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ahqkas · 4 months ago

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♯ WOMANIZER ( you misunderstand the batboys’ intentions about you ! )

— fem!reader, bruce & dick & jason ( separated ), cursing, i believe in the imperfection of dick grayson, based on this req.!!

. . . BRUCE WAYNE !

THE PARTY AT WAYNE MANOR WAS ALREADY WELL UNDERWAY, with the gotham’s most privileged citizens mingling in perfect suits and ethereal gowns that sparkled like they held all the stars in the universe. you didn’t really belong here. or at least, that’s what you told yourself as you stood near the edge of the balcony, nursing a glass of champagne and pretending you weren’t keeping an eye on the man who seemed to command attention wherever he went.

bruce wayne. gotham’s billionaire playboy. philanthropist. occasional heartbreaker. you’d known him for a while, though you wouldn’t exactly call yourself friends. he had a knack for being charming in a way that left people breathless, and you? you’d seen through it. or at least, you thought you had.

when he’d started showing interest in you—lingering glances, invitations to these kinds of events that were hosted by him, casual but warm conversation—you’d dismissed it with a wave of your hand and a gentle no, thank you. bruce wayne didn’t date women like you. he charmed them, maybe took them to dinner once or twice and to warm the cold side of his bed, and then moved on to the next glittering distraction. that’s what you’d always assumed about him, and it didn’t help that you were acquainted with one of his exes, a woman who had once rolled her eyes and described him as a man who “likes the chase more than the catch.”

so when bruce’s eyes found yours from across the room tonight, you bristled. it was hard not to notice the way his gaze softened when he looked at you, the way his smile seemed smaller, less performative and more genuine, when it was directed your way. but you couldn’t help but wonder if it was all part of his game. was this just bruce wayne being bruce wayne, setting his sights on some pretty bird for the thrill of it? or was there more to it?

as the night went on, the man found his moment. you were standing near the balcony doors, half-hidden from the crowd, when his smooth voice broke through your thoughts.

“enjoying the party?”

you turned to find him standing a little closer than you’d expected, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his perfectly tailored suit, the rich fabric complementing his broad shoulders and easy confidence. he looked effortlessly polished, as always, every detail of his appearance considered, from the subtle sheen of his shoes to the faintest trace of cologne that lingered in the space between you. but tonight, there was something different about him, something in his expression that caught you off guard. his stormy blue eyes, always so guarded, seemed uncharacteristically open, revealing an earnestness that made your breath hitch. and there, just beneath the surface, was a vulnerability he didn’t often let slip, like he was holding his heart out to you, unsure if you’d take it or walk away.

“it’s fine,” you replied, the words carrying a certain amount politeness as you swirled the champagne flute in your hand. the golden bubbles rose to the surface, catching the soft glow of the chandelier overhead. you took a measured sip and the crispness of the drink did little to soothe the edge in your tone. “not really my scene, though.”

he chuckled softly. “i had a feeling you might say that.”

“then why invite me?” The question came out sharper than you intended, but you didn’t back down. you’d spent too much time wondering what exactly a man like bruce wayne wanted from you, and tonight you were in no mood to dance around it.

bruce blinked, clearly caught off guard. “i thought—” he hesitated, the usual composure faltering ever so slightly. “i wanted you here.”

“for what?” you pressed, your voice dipping lower, but it carried the sharpness of a blade meant to cut through his carefully built walls. “to add to the collection? to say you’ve charmed another woman into falling for you?”

the words hung between you, heavy and biting, and you could see the faint flicker of hurt that flashed in his eyes before he masked it. still, you didn’t back down. you’d seen this thing before—the effortless charm, the disarming smiles, the way he made women feel special, if only for a moment. you weren’t going to be another one of those fleeting moments, another name whispered in hushed gossip about gotham’s most privileged golden boy. the weight of your words wasn’t just meant to confront him; it was a shield for yourself, a barrier you put up to keep your heart out of reach of someone who could crush it without even meaning to.

but bruce wayne didn’t flinch. instead, he looked at you with an intensity that made your chest tighten.

“that’s not what this is,” he said quietly with his voice steady but threaded with softness. there was no defensiveness in his tone, no quick quip to deflect or charm his way out of the accusation. he didn’t puff up his chest or offer a rehearsed explanation to save his pride. there was no trace of the man who usually walked through conversations with the ease of someone who always knew the right thing to say.

instead, it was just bruce.

you crossed your arms at your chest, your guard still firmly in place. “forgive me if i find that hard to believe. i know your reputation, and i know you don’t exactly have a track record of . . . consistency.”

the man let out a long sigh, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair and glancing away for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts before he let them out for you to hear. when he looked back at you, his expression was different—softer, more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him.

“i know what people think of me. but that’s not who i am with you. you . . . you’re not just some passing interest to me. i don’t know how else to say it, but i care about you. more than i’ve cared about anyone in a long time.”

his words caught you completely off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. you searched his face for any sign of deceit, any trace of the playboy side of him you’d come to associate with him. but all you saw was sincerity. it terrified you as much as it made your heart ache.

“you don’t have to believe me,” he added, his voice quieter now. “but i’ll prove it to you, if you let me.”

the vulnerability in his eyes was so raw, so uncharacteristic of the man you thought you knew, that you couldn’t help but feel a crack form in the wall you’d built around yourself. maybe he really meant it. maybe this wasn’t just a game to him. you didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything at all. instead, you let your gaze linger on him for a moment longer, trying to piece together the man in front of you with the one you thought you’d figured out. and for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—you’d been wrong about bruce wayne.

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

DICK GRAYSON WASN’T USED TO BEING MISJUDGED. sure, people sometimes underestimated him—wrote him off as just another pretty face, a charmer with a disarming smile and nothing deeper behind it—but he always found a way to prove them wrong. except when it came to you.

you, with your sharp wit and guarded heart. you’d known him long enough to see past his dazzling exterior, but you also had your assumptions about him, shaped by things you’d heard and what you thought you’d observed. you’d seen him with kory, with barbara, with women who seemed to flock to him effortlessly. to you, he seemed like someone who loved the chase more than the catch, someone who couldn’t sit still long enough to really, truly care. and that’s where the problem began.

it started with a rumor. one of your friends—a casual acquaintance of dick’s—had mentioned his “reputation” in passing, how he’d always been the heartbreaker of gotham’s streets. you’d smiled politely and brushed it off, but on the inside, your walls had risen. and then there were the times you’d seen him turn on the charm with women at galas or events, the way they seemed to melt under his intense gaze. it didn’t help that you were certain he could have anyone he wanted.

when dick started paying more attention to you, your first instinct was suspicion. he’d never been anything but kind, but now, his kindness seemed . . . targeted. personal. he asked about your day, remembered small details you’d mentioned weeks ago, found ways to cross your path more often than felt coincidental. he’d even shown up at your workplace once with a bag of takeout, claiming he was “just in the neighborhood,” though you were sure that wasn’t true. it was flattering and sweet, sure, but it also made you wary. he’d been like this with others before, hadn’t he?

“let me guess,” you said one day, crossing your arms as he caught up with you after a late-night outing with mutual friends. “you’re just doing this for fun, right? another notch on the great dick grayson belt?”

the words stung more than you expected. they slipped out before you could stop them, a mixture of your own insecurities and the walls you’d carefully constructed around your bleeding heart to protect yourself. dick froze mid-step, his easygoing smile faltering for the first time.

“what?”

“you don’t have to play dumb,” you continued, keeping your tone casual, though the tightness in your chest betrayed you. “i’m not one of those girls who’s going to fall for the charming guy.” you gestured vaguely towards him, your hands betraying your nerves as much as your words. “i mean, i’ve seen it all before. the sweet smile, the compliments that sound so personal but somehow aren’t. you’ve got a whole thing, dick. it’s practically a brand.” shifting your weight, your eyes darted away from his for a second before locking back in. “i’ve seen it with kory. with barbara. probably with whoever else came before or after. you walk in, sweep them off their feet with your ‘i’m just a nice guy with perfect hair and a killer backflip’ act, and then . . . i don’t know. you move on. it’s just what you do, isn’t it?”

the words spilled out faster than you could stop them, a mix of defensive sarcasm and the tiniest sliver of insecurity you hated admitting was there. the way his expression shifted, the way his easygoing demeanor cracked, told you you’d struck deeper than you intended—but you couldn’t back down now. not when your heart was hammering against the bones of your ribs, reminding you of all the reasons you’d kept him at arm’s length.

dick blinked, as if you’d just slapped him. for a moment, he didn’t respond, his mouth opening and closing like he couldn’t quite figure out what to say. the hurt in his eyes was almost enough to make you regret your words, but you stood firm, heart pounding.

“i . . . wow,” he finally said, running a hand through his dark locks. the tone of his voice was quieter than you’d ever heard it, stripped of the usual warmth and charm that seemed to come so effortlessly to him. his hand lingered at the back of his neck, fingers pressing into the tension there, like he was trying to ground himself. “that’s what you think of me?” he repeated. his blue eyes, normally so lively and teasing, searched yours for some kind of explanation, some hint that you didn’t mean it the way it sounded. but there was no teasing now, no easy smile to smooth over the rough edges of your words.

for once, dick grayson—always so confident, so sure of himself—seemed completely thrown, like you’d hit a nerve he didn’t even know existed.

in truth, the man was head over heels for you. he didn’t know when it had started exactly—maybe it was the first time he heard your real laugh, or when you’d gone out of your way to help a stranger on the street, or the way you always managed to keep up with his fast-paced banter. all he knew was that you were constantly on his mind, and he was trying everything he could think of to show you how much he cared. but clearly, he’d been going about it the wrong way.

“look, i know what people say about me. i know i’ve made mistakes, and yeah, i’ve had relationships that didn’t work out. but that doesn’t mean i’m—that i’m what you think i am.”

“then what are you, dick?” you challenged, your voice sharp even as doubt began to creep in. “because all i see is a guy who’s used to getting what he wants.”

he let out a breath, shaking his head. “i’m a guy who’s trying to show you that you’re important to me. that i care about you more than i’ve cared about anyone in a long time. but apparently, i’ve done a terrible job of that.”

the raw honesty in his voice caught you off guard. for the first time, you saw past the charm and the confidence to the vulnerability beneath. he wasn’t trying to manipulate you or play games—he was laying himself bare, and it terrified you almost as much as it touched you.

“you could have anyone,” you said quietly, your tone softening despite yourself. “why me?”

dick stepped closer, his hands in his pockets, as if he was trying to give you space while still closing the distance between you. “you challenge me. you make me want to be better. and yeah, maybe i’ve had a past, but none of that matters to me anymore.“

in the silence that followed, you felt your walls begin to crack. maybe he wasn’t perfect. maybe he’d made mistakes. but the sincerity in his eyes was impossible to ignore. he wasn’t just saying what he thought you wanted to hear—he was saying what he needed you to know. you allowed yourself to consider the possibility that he was telling the truth.

. . . JASON TODD !

JASON TODD WASN’T A MAN KNOWN FOR BEING SUBTLE, especially when it came to matters of the heart. his past had been a mess, filled with pain, betrayal, and a long string of failed attempts at normalcy. but despite all the scars, despite the weight of the past, there was something about you that made him want to try, that made him want to be someone better, someone worth your time. yet, every time he tried to get closer to you, it felt like you were slipping farther away, as if you saw him as nothing more than just another guy who wanted a quick fling—someone like the men who had come before him, someone who was only interested in getting into your pants.

it frustrated him to no end.

jason knew he wasn’t perfect. hell, he knew he had a lot of baggage, a lot of things that would make most people run in the opposite direction. but you? you didn’t just run. you were cautious, almost skeptical, like you were holding him at arm’s length, convinced he was just another fool who thought he could charm you with a few clever lines and some smooth moves. the way you looked at him sometimes—it wasn’t with the disgust or anger he used to see when people looked at him, but something close. disappointment, maybe. like he was nothing more than a shadow of someone who could be worthy of your time.

the thing that gnawed at him the most was that you didn’t believe him. you didn’t believe that he was different, that he saw something in you beyond the physical. there were days when you’d look at him, laughing at something he said, a playful smile tugging at your lips, and jason would get this flicker of hope that maybe—just maybe—you could see him the way he saw you. but then there were the other days. days when you’d pull away, your eyes distant, your words clipped, and it would hit him like a ton of bricks. you were still unconvinced.

it didn’t help that you knew his exes, some of the women from his past who had used him or only wanted him for the same thing you feared he wanted from you. and that only made you more guarded, more unwilling to take the chance on him. to you, it was as if he were just another man who came with a history of bad decisions. and to some extent, maybe you were right, but he wasn’t about to let that be the end of the story.

one night, after patrol, jason found himself sitting at your kitchen table. you were cooking ( his favorite ) , focused on your task, and he leaned back in his chair, watching you with a quiet intensity. he couldn’t help but study you—how you moved, how your eyes flickered over the ingredients, how you chewed on your bottom lip when you concentrated. he adored it all. and it pissed him off that he couldn’t just tell you how he felt without the weight of his past overshadowing it all.

“hey,” he finally spoke up, breaking the silence that had been hanging between you. you didn’t look at him right away, too absorbed in what you were doing, but when you did, it was with a look that said you knew exactly what was coming.

“jason,” you sighed, setting the knife down carefully and wiping your hands on the towel. “we’ve been through this.”

his brows furrowed, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips. “been through what?” he asked, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice but failing. “what’s the deal with you?”

you paused, your face softening with an almost sad smile. “what do you mean, what’s the deal with me?” you asked with your voice a mix of amusement and something else—something more guarded. you leaned against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest.

“you act like i’m just another guy you’re trying to keep at arm’s length,” jason said, vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to. “i get it, alright? i do. i’ve messed up a lot. but i’m not trying to be just some guy who’s after your body. i’m not. i don’t know what else i have to say to make you believe that.”

your eyes softened upon hearing his rant, but there was still hesitation there, that skepticism that had become so familiar in his interactions with you. “jay, you’re a good guy, but . . .” you trailed off, searching for the words. “i’ve seen how things end with people like you. how they use others, and then leave them behind. and i’m not stupid. i can see how you look at me sometimes. it’s the same way you look at everyone else, isn’t it? like they’re just a means to an end.”

jason pushed himself up from his seat, crossing the small space between you in a few long strides. “that’s not how i look at you,” he stood firmly. “i don’t look at you like that at all. yeah, i’ve made mistakes. but i’m not the same guy who was a dickhead in the past, and i’m not the same guy who thought he could just charm his way into getting what he wanted. i care about you.”

you let out a breath, dropping your gaze for a moment, and his heart skipped a beat. there it was—the doubt, the hesitation that had been there for weeks, lingering just beneath the surface. he wasn’t going to let you slip away without trying, not when he knew what he felt. not when it was so clear to him that you were the one person who had somehow gotten through the walls he’d built.

“i’m not asking for anything from you,” he continued, his tone softening as he reached out, gently cupping your cheek with one hand, lifting your face so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “i’m just asking for the chance to show you. i know you don’t trust me yet. i get that. but please, give me a shot. i’m not just gonna walk away. not this time.”

there was a beat of silence between you two, the air thick with everything unsaid. and for a moment, you just stood there, your eyes locked on his, reading him in a way that made his breath catch in his throat. he was giving you everything in that moment, his heart, his truth, all laid bare in front of you. and for the first time, he wasn’t sure if you would walk away.

but then, something in your eyes shifted. a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you sighed, reaching up to gently take his hand from your cheek.

“okay,” you said softly, voice almost a whisper. “okay, jason. i’ll give you a chance.”

jason’s heart fluttered in his chest, and a grin tugged at his lips as he leaned forward to kiss you. he was a man who had always been wary of letting anyone get close, but when it came to you, he would do anything to prove he wasn’t the same man he once was.

and with that, for the first time in a long while, jason allowed himself to hope.

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fuckyeahisawthat · 1 year ago

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Controversial opinion among Dune book fans maybe, but I loved the changes they made to Chani's character. Making her a fedaykin who is already an experienced fighter before Paul arrives was a brilliant choice. Dune Part Two is a war movie, and this puts her at the center of the action, side by side with Paul, and gives her a much more active role than she has in the book.

We got a hint of where things were going in the beginning of Dune Part One. The first thing we ever know about movie Chani is that she's a fighter. She serves as a voice for the Fremen, telling us the story of their struggle from her point of view. I wrote here about the difference this change makes compared to other adaptations of Dune, what a perspective shift it is to have the world of Arrakis introduced not by an outsider, describing it as a dangerous but valuable colonial prize, but by one of its native inhabitants, who tells us before all else that it's beautiful, her home that she's fighting to liberate. I am so, so glad that the second movie followed up on this characterization.

I never found Chani and Paul's love story in the book particularly convincing, because why would this woman, who already has a prominent and respected place in Fremen society, even give the time of day to her deposed would-be colonizer, let alone fall in love and have children with him? Without a compelling reason for Chani to love Paul, she ends up feeling like a prize to be won, and "indigenous culture personified as a woman to be wooed (or conquered) by the colonizing man" is a trope we've seen and don't need to repeat.

But as soon as you tell me it's a barricade romance I get it. Cool cool cool, I know exactly what this relationship is now and it makes sense. Movie Chani doesn't respect or even particularly like Paul when she first meets him, and she doesn't think he's the fulfillment of any prophecy. She comes to respect him, and eventually love him, through his actions. He's brave--sometimes recklessly so. He fights well. He's willing to stick his neck out on the front lines with the other Fremen fighters. He can (after a little help) hack surviving in the harsh desert environment. He's not too proud to learn from others. He seems to genuinely want to be her equal in a common political struggle. All these qualities make sense as things she values.

Fighting side by side as equals is just about the only way I can see movie Chani falling for Paul. And it fits perfectly with the film's pattern of reversals that Paul's capacity for violence would initially be one of the things Chani likes about him, only for her to be repelled later when she sees what he becomes.

And as for Paul, well, he's had people deferring to him his entire life. Someone who doesn't take any shit from him is probably refreshing. He seems to like people (Duncan, Gurney) who challenge him and engage in a little friendly teasing--and aren't afraid to go a few rounds in the sparring ring.

It's easy to speedrun a romance when you're spending all your time together in mortal danger fighting for a shared political cause. Especially if you then start winning in a war your people have been fighting for decades. Are you kidding me? That is the perfect environment for intense battle camaraderie to turn into romantic love, and lust.

It makes sense that this version of Chani never believes Paul is any kind of messiah. Of course a character like movie Chani wouldn't believe in or trust some outside savior to liberate them. She's been working to liberate her own people for years. The more Paul invokes the messianic myth, the more he starts sounding once again like someone who plans to rule over them, and the more uncomfortable Chani becomes. In this way she becomes a foil to Jessica, the two of them representing the choices Paul is pulled between. It's a great way of externalizing the political and philosophical debates that often happen within characters' heads in the book.

And of course this version of Chani would leave Paul at the end of the film. It's not just the personal, emotional betrayal--although that stings. What common cause does she have with someone who just declared himself emperor and is sending her own people off in a war of conquest against others? Given the important role she plays in Dune Messiah, I am super curious to see how they get her back into the story, but girl was so valid for being willing to just gtfo. Given that she has the last shot of the whole movie, I'm sure she'll be back somehow, and I can't wait to see what they do with her character in any future installments.

#dune #dune part two #dune part 2 #chani kynes #paul atreides #adaptation #dune spoilers

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tcmmysheiby · 4 months ago

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oh, loverboy - dbf!joel miller

authors note - listen, i love myself some pedro pascal but game!joel?? another level for me, ok. you can picture with either game!joel or show!joel, you do you. i haven't written in five years and i have come out of writing retirement just for this man. pls be kind to me!! any feedback is appreciated, especially as this is my first smut in so long and i'm used to writing about peaky blinders boys! feel free to send me asks, requests, whatever whatever u want

warnings - dbf!joel, afab, reader described as wearing a dress, dry humping, cheating (joel is married!!), joel takes readers underwear, reader is v horny and shameless about it, facesitting/riding (aka reader would kill joel irl), lots of dirty talk, pussy pronouns, brief female masturbation and brief mention of male masturbation, dryer is in the kitchen cause i'm british ok!!!, slight cum play but not really, use of the word slut, joel gets off on having just hair pulled at js, somewhat switch!joel towards the end but maybe not idk, semi-public sex, office sex, age gap (20 years, the rest is down to you)

word count - 8k.

You knew it was wrong to be besotted with your parent’s best friend, especially when he was a married man but how could you resist? Joel Miller did nothing to help your cause.

He was polite, handsome and always walked around like he oozed confidence and could do whatever he wanted and no one would bat an eyelid. His smile was enough to have you clenching your thighs during family meals and your fingers stuffed deep in your pussy the very same night as you dreamed of what else that mouth could do. It was a long, tortuous, heavenly roundabout that you were stuck on and frankly, you didn’t want to get off.

What did you do in a previous life to deserve this? Why couldn’t you have met Joel in another life? A life where Joel and your dad didn’t meet every Saturday night to play card games and drink beer whilst discussing the latest game. A life where your mother and Joel’s wife, Charlotte, didn’t have spa nights and drink cheap fruity wine they got from the local store. You deserved more, you deserved better, you deserved Joel.

You have been so good. You’d resisted him for years. You’d perfected your best, fake smile during every anniversary dinner, congratulated them as they announced the renewal of their vows, you’d helped his wife pick out her wedding dress alongside your mother, you’d done everything you were meant to do. When was it your turn?

“What you thinkin’ bout, girl?”

You dragged your eyes away from the kitchen window and over to Joel who stood in the doorway, halfway to the fridge before he stopped. How long had you been staring out the window at him? You had only come in here to check on your laundry, how long ago was that? Were you going crazy?

“Nothin’, Joel,” you said softly, quickly glancing down at the dryer, only a few minutes left. “You and my dad havin’ a good time?”

You nodded out the window and towards the car that Joel and your dad had been working on for almost six months now, they never seemed to get any further with their latest mechanical mission. On the lawn next to the drive sat your mother and Charlotte, both of them engrossed in conversation as they sipped on lemonade whilst basking in the Austin summer heat. You didn’t hate Charlotte exactly but you envied her and you didn’t know what was worse. You envied her pretty flowery dresses and long curled hair that always look elegant, her fingernails which were always painted a pretty light blue colour and perfectly maintained, envied the fact she slept next to Joel every night and probably didn’t realise how lucky she was. God, maybe you did hate her.

“Be havin’ a damn better time when I don’t have to look at that car again, swear your dad buys the stupidest shit going,” he scoffed before opening the fridge and pulling out two beers, eyeing up the cheap brand your father had purchased. Joel then turned towards you, “Looks like something’s on your mind - “ he paused before the slight graze of a smirk morphed on his luscious face. “Or someone?”

It was your turn to scoff, only yours came out uncomfortably loud. “N’ what’s that meant to mean?”

“C’mon, charmin’ girl like you must have someone by now,” Joel questioned, an eyebrow arched as he stared over at you. Was he moving closer to you? No, it was your imagination. “Not seen ya’ with anyone since that lil boy you had back when you were twenty, what a fool he turned out to be.”

Yeah, a fool indeed. What a waste of time he turned out to be.

“Tell me about it.”

“Nobody then?” Joel was definitely closer. Could your laundry please hurry up?

You took a quick look at him briefly before smiling and shaking your head. You turned back towards the window, your back to him now. “We all ain’t lucky to be loved up like you, Joel. Boys my age, well…”

“What’s wrong with 'em’, sweetheart? That guy turned you off men completely, huh?”

“Well, they just ain’t my type, Mr. Miller…” You trailed off, you hadn’t called him that in many years. “I like men that are a bit older, ya know?”

As soon as you finished your sentence, you felt Joel's presence behind you.

This is what happened between the two of you. Nothing out of turn was ever said but there was a tension, an indescribable sends-you-crazy in the middle of the night, tension. You were adamant it was just you being delusional. You were twenty-years younger than Joel, he would never have any interest in you that way. Plus, your parents were his best friends. Oh, and he was married.

Were you some infatuated young woman who just couldn’t stop fantasising about her dad’s hot best friend? This was more than a fantasy though, this had been going on years. You’d spent endless nights with your hand tucked in between your thighs as you thought dirty things about him. Had mastered every excuse going as to why you couldn’t attend any of the Miller’s functions that Charlotte insisted on throwing.

“Older?” Joel leaned across you to grab the bottle opener. Of all the places for your father to have left it, why did you have to be in front of it? You got a whiff of his aftershave and almost fell to your knees there. “What makes you like older men so much, huh?”

“Just somethin’ about them, somethin’ special, somethin’ that makes me feel a lil’ bit naughty, you know?” What were you doing? Words came out of your mouth before you could even process what you were going to say. Joel being behind you, his arm brushing past your waist as he brought the bottle opener towards him. It was all too much, you couldn’t stop rambling but he looked so good, black t-shirt so tight and jeans fitting in all the right places. Did she tell him how good he looked all the time? “They got more experience, more knowledge, and know how to treat a lady right. Boys my age, they don’t know what they doin’. Boys at college showed me that, that’s why i’m wantin’ an older man, ya know? Want someone who ain’t gonna mess me around or throw me to side when someone prettier comes along.”

“These city boys stupid if they throwin’ you to the side baby,” Joel purred, his breath hot on your neck. He looked down at you from where he stood, trying his hardest not to stare down your shirt. You always made it so difficult for him. “You have many boys in college?”

Joel moved to your side and faced away from the window. He stared straight ahead as he placed one of the beer bottles down and brought the other to his lips. You stared directly at his wife as you tried not to imagine her husband bending you over the counter, dropping to his knees and using his mouth to eat your pussy from the back. She had no idea as she giggled alongside your mother, had no idea of the thoughts that had ruined your brain since hormones came to play.

“They wanted me, I didn’t always give them the same attention back.”

You took a step back at the sound of the dryer beeping, finally. You grabbed the washing basket you had discarded to the side and lowered yourself to both knees as you emptied your load of dry, clean washing into it. Maybe this wasn’t the best position to be in considering you only had to glance slightly to your right and make eye contact with Joel’s bulge. You weren't straining your back for no-one though.

You felt your heart drop as Joel crouched down to your level besides you. The two of you were no longer in view of the window, nor the front door if anyone was to walk in. This felt wildly inappropriate, you loved it. You just silently prayed that Joel felt the same gravitational pull as you did.

It all seemed different. You’d had these conversations before, sometimes there had been flirtatious comments but Joel was a tease, could flirt with a lamp post if he really tried hard enough. There was something about the way he was looking at you now, almost as if there was resistance there. Like he was trying to resist you.

“Older men won’t always treat you well,” he rasped, training his eyes to stay level with yours and not fall below your neckline. Your little white tank top doing nothing to hide your chest, it seemed you had skipped wearing anything underneath. Such a tease, he thought. “Young pretty thing like you wanting a bit of them? C’mon now, you can’t handle no-one your own age, let alone someone twenty years older than you.”

There was a taunting smile on his face. Your heart began to thump under the thin material of your vest as you looked at him, not paying attention to the clothing in your hands. His head tilted to the side slightly as he eyed you up, waiting for you to respond.

“You are twenty years older than me,” you whispered out loud before you could stop yourself. “Do you think I couldn’t handle ya?”

Joel shook his head and sniggered slightly. “I know you couldn’t handle me baby, ain’t no shame in that.”

“Why don’t you give me the chance to prove you - “

“I’ll have these.” The words were spoken and an item of clothing was stolen from your hands before you could finish your sentence . You suddenly felt tiny as Joel stood up. You looked up at him, eyes wide and mouth open as you watched him hold your pink, lace panties in his hand. “I’d prefer them used but this will do.” You kneeled with your mouth open, unable to make any argument back. Joel looked down at you before he bent over slightly to grab your jaw. You whimpered pathetically at the action and a wide shit-eating grin was on Joel’s within seconds of you making the sound. “Goodbye sweet girl.”

“Joel - “

“Goodbye sweet girl,” he repeated sternly, his eyes lingering on yours as he stood up straight and walked out of the kitchen, your panties stuffed in his back pocket and both bottles of beer in his hands.

----

You were a fool. A big fool.

As soon as Joel had gone, you were running upstairs into your room where you slammed the door shut and threw yourself down on the bed. It had never gone that far before. He’d taken your panties - your favourite but you’d let that slide. Your mind was clogged with thoughts of him with your panties wrapped around his cock as he edged himself over and over again. His hand pressed against the locked door of the bathroom he shared with his wife. He wouldn’t be thinking about her though, no, his mind would be flooded with filthy images of you doing the stuff his wife wouldn’t do for him, you bent over wherever he wanted, his cock stuffed wherever he wanted, your mouth wide open and pussy sopping for him. You wanted them back, covered in his cum and filth, his scent embedded in the material. He was making you feral, the panties you were currently wearing already so soaked.

He wanted them used? Well, he’d get them used.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, your right index and middle finger slowly massaging your clit.

It was the same routine almost nightly. The moment your fingers touched your clit, dirty thoughts of Joel would arise in your brain. You wanted every inch of him, wanted his fingers rubbing delicate circles on your clit rather than your own, wanted his tongue lapping you up as he slowly slipped his large fingers inside of you, slowly but surely bringing you to the edge over and over and over again.

You felt restricted by the panties you were wearing but you needed them soaked. Needed Joel to have one smell of the fabric and go mad with lust, unable to control himself to the point he tugs his cock out wherever he is and strokes and strokes until he’s coming so hard that the only thing he can purr is your name over and over again. You were so mad for this man, you needed him to be the same back.

This is what you were put on this planet for. You were made to make Joel miller go crazy at the scent of a younger woman.

You rubbed your clit harder as you arched your back, mumbling his name repeatedly until it was the only thing you could do. Your legs spread wider as your eyes fluttered open and shut, the room blurring as you felt the pressure grow in your lower abdomen.

You always came quick when you thought of Joel but this, this was humiliating.

As your orgasm washed through you, all you could do was concentrate on Joel’s voice. I know you couldn’t handle me, baby. You could, you knew you could. You could hear the disgustingly beautiful words that he would speak to you as he thrusted his cock in and out of you, the delicious stretch as he split you open and opened your legs wider than you ever could yourself.

“Oh fuck, Joel, Joel - “ you stuttered shakily, your orgasm sending shockwaves through your body. You tightened your legs around your hand that was still rubbing your clit and your back arched off the bed, the sound of his name on the tip of your tongue as you slowly came down.

You needed him. You were going to have him.

You spent the next few moments trying to gather your thoughts and talk yourself out of making a bad decision. This could ruin your life and your relationship with your parents but most importantly, it could ruin everything with Joel. Not just the sexual stuff either. Being able to have someone to call in the middle of the night when you were stranded at a party and too frightened to call your mother, the memory of having your first sip of alcohol with Joel when you were eighteen, the way that he would smile sweetly to you whenever he saw you unloading groceries from your mothers car. It would all be ruined, gone. A new, uncertain, dangerous territory would arise and you would be stuck there, unable to go back on what you have done. But you wanted this more than anything, had dreamed about this endless time. If you could only have him for one night, then one night it would be.

Before you could talk yourself out of anything, you jumped off the bed and ignored the pulsing feeling in your pussy. You reached over to the freshly washed laundry and grabbed a hoodie and a pair of leggings. As tempting as it was to walk down the stairs in nothing but your soaked underwear and an oversized t-shirt, have Joel peel them from your body before taking you over to the dining room table and fucking you, you had to have some class about you.

The sound of your parents and Charlotte could be heard from your bedroom, they must have come in at some point but you were sure they hadn’t heard you. You listened out for Joel’s voice or laughter but heard nothing.. A part of you hoped he’d rushed off home to fuck himself with your panties. You bounded down the stairs with a skip in your step, excited for what was to come.

“Where’s Joel?” you asked as you came into the kitchen, voice laced with fake innocence as you smiled sweetly at the three of them around the dining room table. Your used panties hidden in the pocket of your hoodie.

“Garage,” Charlotte answered. “Everything okay? Anything I can help you with?”

Absolutely not.

“Yeah, I just need to ask him something about Sarah.”

“Before you go,” your mother started, stopping you as you made a rush for the front door. She showed you her laptop screen, a stunning spa resort on the screen. Nice. “Me and Charlotte were thinking about booking a weekend away at the end of summer, are you interested in coming?”

“You really should,” Charlotte answered, not giving you a chance to oppose the situation. “I could always see if Sarah is free to come along with us so you’re not stuck with us the whole time.”

You shrugged your shoulders and glanced towards the garage door through the kitchen window. Could you really be in close proximity to Charlotte for a full weekend? Especially considering what you were about to do.

“I’ll think about it,” you answered with a smile, hoping it would be enough to satisfy them. “Anyways, bye.”

You rushed out the front door and over to the garage before they could say anything else. As you reached the door, you caught a glimpse of Joel around the corner, your heart skipping a beat as you stared at him. He was so pretty, years of labour engrained on his face but he wore it so well. His hair was messy after spending hours running his fingers through it, most likely at annoyance towards your father for buying another car that didn’t run. His beard was unruly and all you could picture was the feeling of the coarse hair running along the inside of your thighs and leaving red marks in its wake.

You coughed loudly and caught his attention. He turned around slowly, already trying to fight an erection at the sight of you and a seductive smile. “I want my panties back, Joel,” you began. You wanted to move closer, run your hand up his chest and grab the curls at the back of his neck but you maintain your dignity, for now. “They’re my favourite pair.”

Joel tutted and shook his head.“Not happenin’, darlin. They are mine now.” He threw the rag he had in his hand on the work bench behind him, eyes not leaving yours for even the briefest of seconds.

“But what if I give you something better?” You slowly stalked over to Joel and pressed your body up close towards him and fought the urge to not stare up at him. “Somethin’ so much better.”

Joel watched with hooded eyes as you reached in between your bodies, your hand accidentally grazing his lower belly. He took in a deep breath and clenched his fists. He was struggling as much as you and you loved every moment.

“You filthy girl,” Joel chuckled darkly, the sight of your panties having his cock rock hard against the rough denim material of his jeans. He was fucked. He took them from your hand and admired them with a glimmer of humour in his eyes but there was something darker there, almost worrying. He fondled with the material, his rough finger moving along the crotch and he audibly moaned when he felt the wetness. “These are still wet, baby. What you been doin’ up those stairs, huh?”

You tilted your head to the side and grinned. “You wanna’ know?” You asked, so sweet and sexy that the way you spoke went straight to Joel’s cock. You ran your hand up Joel’s chest and over his neck before pressing the two fingers you’d used to get yourself off against his plump lips. “You can have a taste if you wanna’.”

“Pretty girl - “ he purred, unable to finish his sentence as you pressed your fingers into his mouth. “Dirty girl,” he finished, his mouth enclosing around your fingers as he took in the faint taste of your previous orgasm. His large hand wrapped around your wrist, keeping you in place whilst he stared down at you with a fire in his eyes that you’d never seen before. He popped your fingers out of his mouth, “Always knew you were a fuckin’ slut for me.”

You stood up on your tippy-toes as you attempted to capture Joel’s mouth with your own but he pushed you back, enough to make you stumble back into the bonnet of the car that Joel and your father had been working on.

“Please, Joel,” you whimpered, sounding more pathetic than you normally did when you were around him - you wanted something to happen when you passed him your wet panties but this, well this was something else. You watched him as he walked over to you, an internal battle playing out in his head but he knew which side of him would win. You reached out for him as he got closer but he gently slapped your hands away. “I’m not a slut, i - “

“Ya think I don’t notice the way you suddenly become a slut whenever I’m around? How I’ll walk into your house and you’ll be dressed in jeans and a shirt and within five minutes, suddenly you’ve got on them lil’ pyjama shorts with the frills on the bottom and an even littler tank top that you should be fuckin’ ashamed to be wearing around your parents,” he spat. He stood directly in front of you, one large hand reaching out to lay flat against your stomach as he pushed you further against the bonnet until you were practically laid flat against it, your elbows the only thing keeping you slightly sat up. “But you ain’t ashamed. You fuckin’ love it. Love knowing that my cock’s damn near bustin’ out my jeans all night, don’t ya?”

“I didn’t know, Joel - “ You knew.

“Didn’t know? See, you’re a liar as well as fuckin’ slut. You think you deserve my cock?”

“Yes, please,” you moaned loudly without any shame. No concern for the three people not that fat from you. You were fucked if anyone was to come into the garden. Due to the placement of the work bench, you were thankfully out of sight of the house.

“Why?” he asked, his hand running up and down your stomach delicately.

“I’ve been so patient, Joel. It’s been torture, knowin’ you going back to her and fuckin’ her when it should be me you fuckin’,” you cried out, your eyes watering with desperation. “Don’t you think I deserve ya cock? I’ve been good, I promise. I gave ya’ my used panties. Made myself come whilst wearin’ them, just for you, thought of you, I promise.”

Before you could begin to process your actions, you grabbed Joel’s hand and moved it further down so it was situated in between your thighs. You had ‘forgotten’ panties and with your previous encounter with Joel, your orgasm and this current situation, you were dripping all the way down to the seam of your leggings.

“Can you feel it, Joel?” you asked, voice soft and quiet. “Can ya’ feel how wet I am for you?”

Joel moaned lowly as he slowly moved his fingers along your clothed pussy, the material from the leggings adding an extra layer of pleasure. You were already so sensitive still from your previous orgasm but you weren't going to back out of this.

“I feel it, baby,” he grunted. “Fuck, ya’ so beautiful, so wet, I ain’t got no choice but to fuck ya’, have I?” Removing his hand, Joel placed both of his hands on each side of your inner thigh and split your legs apart so you were fully spread out for him. The action caused you to fall flat onto your back and you attempted to open your legs even wider for him. “That’s it, good girl.”

Joel took one large step until he was situated between your thighs. His hands reached up to grab your waist and he moved your body down until you were pressed against his bulge, his hard cock pressing directly onto your clothed pussy. His hands tightened around you as he slowly rubbed his cock against you, his eyes fluttering shut with ecstasy.

Joel felt so wrong. If someone was to walk into the garage and see the scene in front of them then Joel would be leaving yours with a black eye but how was he able to resist such a beautiful woman who was equally as desperate as him? He’d tried so hard to resist you, spent the last few years trying to purposely avoid you but there were times when he couldn’t, and he couldn’t even count the amount of times on one hand that he had to rush off to your parent’s bathroom and stroke his cock until he finally saw sense. This was his best friend's daughter, this was you. Not some random girl in a club that just wanted a quick fuck. This was quiet, pretty, sweet you. He didn’t even want to think about his wife who was blissfully unaware of his sinful thoughts, especially didn’t want to think about her when your hips were moving and creating more pressure on his cock.

“Want more, Joel,” you whispered, eyes shut as you continued to grind along his cock. You definitely looked a mess but Joel didn’t seem to care, not when his hands left your waist and he let you take control. “Cock feels so big, bet it feels even bigger deep inside of me.”

Within seconds, you were flung around so you were now bent over the bonnet, your legs dangling over the edge. Joel’s hands were on your waist again as dragged you back so your back was perfectly arched for him and arse up in the air for him to admire. His cock pressed against you as he shamelessly rutted his hips into you, allowing the sensation to go straight to his cock - and head.

“Pretty fuckin girl’, told you earlier that you wouldn’t be able to handle my cock,” he moaned, one hand moving down to squeeze the flesh of your ass. There was nothing delicate about the touch, you didn’t mind. “But like I said, gonna have to fuck ya’, aren’t I? Wouldn't be fair of me to let you carry on like this, so desperate and horny for an old man’s cock that you gotta’ stuff your fingers inside your pussy every goddamn time I’ve been in the same room as ya’.”

You’ve never seen Joel this desperate, all fury and hormones as he rubbed himself against your ass, almost as if you weren't there. You could do nothing but grind your hips up against him, waiting and anticipating and his animalistic nature took over. He messily fucked his cock against you, whispering sweet nothings out loud as the usual authoritative Joel slips away. His eyebrows dipped as his orgasm approached and suddenly, he felt like an eighteen year old boy again. He was no better than those college boys you bitched about. He wasn’t going to come in his pants at the feeling of your ass pressed against his cock and he certainly wasn’t going to sit next to his wife on the drive home and pretend that he didn’t just get himself off using your body.

“No, no, no, where you goin’, Joel?” you whimpered as you felt the loss of his body against yours. You turned your head around and reached for him, only for him to shake his head as a warning. If you touched him, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. “Want you to come, need you to come, please, I’m so desperate, please. Can fuck my throat, please - “

“Shut up,” Joel snapped, taking a few steps back as he eyed you down like you were his prey. “If I only get to fuck you once, then it ain’t being like this, you understand? Plus baby, your parent’s are in the house, my fuckin’ wife is in the house. Need to be careful if we gonna’ do this, shouldn’t even be doin’ it but fuck, you right girl, you waited long enough, ain’t ya’?”

You nodded pathetically as you stood up straight. “So long.” You were no longer the woman that walked into the garage and made Joel suck on her fingers. You were weak, desperate and a horny pathetic mess. Frankly, you didn’t care slightly about the people inside the house, not when you could see how hard his cock was.

“I need to go by my office tonight and pick up some paperwork.” Joel stated, not looking anywhere else but at you. His cock was throbbing in his briefs, begging to be released and forced inside your tight, warm pussy but Joel needed to wait. He couldn’t do this here - couldn’t risk his wife or your parent’s walking in despite how badly he wanted to bend you over the stupid car. “You’ll be there, won’t ya’?”

Again, you nodded pathetically. “I’ll be there.”

“Wear a pretty dress, or skirt, yeah?” The sound of Charlotte's voice reached both of you at the same time and you took note of the way Joel grimaced - he wasn’t ready for this to be over yet. He was already counting down the hours until he could help you get over your need for his cock. “No panties either and I’m keeping these.”

----

When you had woken up that morning, you hadn’t expected that this is where you would be but here you were, standing outside Joel’s office feeling like nothing but an idiot. You looked down at the dress you’d put on just for him, a pretty pink off-the-shoulder flowery summer dress, you looked cute, irresistible.

You stepped inside, knowing the way to go from your previous visits with your father. Those times had been innocent, you’d sat in Joel’s office whilst him and your dad discussed whatever business they needed to talk about. This time was different. You felt so anxious as you approached the office door - not bothering to knock as it was already slightly open. You had a plan to open the door slowly and say something that would have him dragging you over to the desk but you didn’t get a chance. Before you could say anything, his voice was ringing through the room.

“Take your dress off for me.”

You stood still in the doorway to his shared office with Tommy as silence occupied the room you were in. Not even a hello, straight to the point. Joel faced away from you as he flicked through some paperwork that was untidily placed over the desk, could he feel how desperate you were for him?

“What if I say no?” you fire back, your tone of voice playful.

Despite your voice showing some confidence, you could feel yourself getting smaller under the harsh gaze of Joel as he turned back to look at you briefly. The glance only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to let you know he wasn’t down to play your games anymore. Joel turned back towards the paperwork and sighed loudly enough for you to hear it from the other side of the room. Was his cock aching at the thought of having you?

“Ya’ think you’re so cute, don’t you?” Joel asked rhetorically. “Did you listen to what I said earlier on? Did you wear your panties or nah?”

You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you. “I listened to what you said, Joel. Behaved myself. I’m not wearing anything underneath this dress.”

“So do as you're told and take that dress off before I have to come over there and do something about it, understood?” Tempting. You watched as Joel strolled casually over to a sofa besides his desk. He looked at you properly for the first time and his cock hardened at the sight of you. “We shouldn’t be doing this, you know that.”

“I know,” you said softly with a shrug of your shoulders. “But I kinda’ don’t care.”

Joel stifled a laugh. “Me neither, baby.” He raised one eyebrow and nodded towards your dress, encouraging you to finally free yourself of the loose clothing which felt like it was stuck to your body.

Standing at a distance from Joel, you allowed the dress to slip from your body until it fell lightly to the floor. You were completely naked for him, body bare and on show. Goosebumps arose on your skin as you watched him take every inch of you in, his eyes slowly trailing over your collarbones, down to your breasts where the nipples had peaked due to the cool air, down your soft belly which was gagging to be covered in his kisses, and finally your pussy. If he was any closer, he would be able to see the glistening in between your legs.

“You think she’s ready for me?”

“She?” you asked with a confused expression etched onto your face.

“Your pussy, baby,” Joel cooed, his voice soft and loving. “God, you can be so innocent when you wanna’ be. Come over here, wanna see all of you.”

You gulped as you walked over to him slowly, suddenly feeling anxious at the feeling of his eyes roaming over your body. He looked so hungry for you with his right hand rubbing against the growing bulge in his jeans. So pretty, you thought to yourself.

When you finally stood in front of him, you looked everywhere but down at the fact that had ruined your dreams since you could remember. Maybe this was wrong but it felt so right at the moment.

“I can see she’s ready, she’s so wet for me already,” Joel said, his large palms coming to lay on the back of your thighs. You shuffled forward slightly until his face was in direct view with your soft belly. Joel leaned slightly forward and placed one chaste kiss directly above your belly button. As you looked down, Joel looked up and the two of you were silent for a brief moment, just staring at each other and waiting for one to back out but when neither of you spoke out against what you were about to do, Joel continued on. “When we got this office, Tommy brought some dumb shit for it. Told him we’d never need a sofa in here but I’m starting to think that maybe it wasn’t a bad purchase at all.”

“Why’s that, Joel?”

“Because imma’ eat your pussy on it.” He said the words so casually that you almost fell to your knees there. “Bet you’d look so pretty with your thighs on either side of my face.”

“Joel,” you hummed, hands automatically coming out to thread in his thick hair. A soft moan came through Joel at the action.

“What do you want, pretty girl?”

“Please.”

Joel gracefully pulled you down so you were straddling his lap, his large hands roaming along the skin on your back as he admired you. “So beautiful,” he mumbled, mouth pressed along the base of your neck. “Wanna mark you up so bad. Fuck if you were ten years older, not my bestfriends daughter and I weren’t married, I’d do such bad things to you, fuck you full of my cum till I was leaking outta’ ya’ for days.”

“Can’t, I wish you could, more than you’ll ever know,” you whined, fingers gripping his head as the flurry of kisses along your neck went straight to the fire in your loins. “But you can do what ya’ said before.”

“Tell me what you want me to do, wanna’ hear them dirty words come from that sweet mouth of yours.”

“Want you to eat my pussy, Joel. Please.”

Joel grunted before taking a hold of your body and shuffling you around on the sofa until he was laid flat and you were straddling his waist. Joel looked as desperate as you as he thrusted his hips up, shuffling you slightly along his body.

“Come on then, I’m waiting for her. Been waitin’ on her for far too long.”

Joel grinned widely, excited at the prospect of having his best friend's daughter come all over his tongue. Joel was obviously lying if he said that he hadn’t thought about this before but they were just taboo thoughts that he had, nothing serious, everyone fantasised, right? He almost felt ashamed when he left your parents house only hours before, cock still hard and leaking in his boxers as he pictured you spread across your fathers car. He tried to make conversation with Charlotte on the way back home but it was physically impossible, his mind clouded with the memory of you bent over your dads precious project with your ass in the air, basically inviting him in. But he felt no shame now. Not with you, straddling him and looking down at him with an anxious, but compliant, smile on your face - he was completely and utterly fucked.

“Happily, Mr. Miller.”

You sensually moved your body further up his, pausing briefly to place your thumb against Joel’s mouth. You dragged his bottom lip down as you smiled down at him sweetly, the memories of your fingers in Joel’s mouth as he sucked them clean had you throbbing onto his t-shirt, sure to leave a stain in its wake. Before you could go any further, Joel gently wrapped a hand around your wrist.

“Up here, now. You know what to do, doll.”

Smiling, you placed both of your hands against the arm of the sofa that was behind Joel’s head and lifted your body up so that you could move until you were hovering above his face. You’d never done this before. Sure, you’d had someone go down on you but never like this, never so intimate and never whilst you had been this wet. Joel was in no rush though as you hesitated above him. He would never force you to do anything that you didn’t want to do and he understood that you were most likely nervous - you was fucking your father’s best friend after all. The sight he had wasn’t too bad either, your pussy soaking and dripping just for him. So close to his mouth. After some hesitation, Joel came to the conclusion that he couldn’t look at your sweet cunt for any longer and do nothing about it.

Both of his strong hands gripped onto your thighs as he brought you down to his face and delved in, a moan coming from both of you as his tongue immediately started to lick along your clit in a teasing manner. You lurched forward at the sensation, your hands gripping onto the sofa with a tighter grip.

“Oh, that feels so good,” you cried out, one hand leaving the sofa to grab his locks. “Don’t stop, please, please don’t stop.”

Joel wrapped his mouth around your clit as he gently moved his head from side-to-side, he would keep you on top of his face for the rest of his life if it was possible. You looked down at the sight of him, so beautiful and sensual that you couldn’t help but moan just from that. Your thighs squeezed against the side of his face as you felt yourself relax into him, allowing yourself the chance to roll your hips and meet the stroke of his tongue. His hands grabbed both of your thighs as a sign of encouragement.

“You taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” he purred before placing small flicks against your clits, starting slowly but becoming more distressed as your moans became louder and more frequent. “She’s so fuckin pretty, girl. Such a pretty pussy, so wet and all for me.”

“For you, Joel,” you breathed out as your eyes squeezed shut and you stuttered forwards. Joel’s actions were becoming more ferocious on your cunt, his tongue having no limits as he continuously brought you to the edge.

You could barely speak, only the filthiest of moans coming from your timid body as you continued to grind along Joel’s face. Worries about harming him were gone, all you could focus on was the unmeasurable amount of pleasure that he was bringing you. If his tongue alone could do this, what could his cock do?

Joel didn’t need to hear you speak though. The moans and whimpers that blessed his ears was enough to tell him everything that he needed to know. You were gone when it came to him, would allow him to do whatever he wanted and just the feel of his cock against your ass and his tongue on your clit had done that to you. He wanted to ruin you so bad it almost hurt him.

As you looked down at Joel again, your eyes flickering open for the briefest of moments, you noticed the cockiness that glimmered behind his eyes.

“I’d do this every day of my life if I could,” he said as he lifted you up briefly. You whimpered at the loss of contact but also at the sight of him. His face glistened with your wetness, his beard drenched and lips swollen as he stared up at you. Darkness had clouded his eyes.

You can. You can. You can. You wanted to scream at him. But he couldn’t. He was married.

“Just shut up,” you mewled before reaching down, grabbing his hair and planting yourself firmly on his face. An animalistic growl came from Joel as he returned his heavenly lips to your core. His moans and whimpers vibrated against your clit as you tugged harder on his hair with every action of his tongue.

You found a rhythm that had Joel’s eyes slightly widening but he didn’t once stop as you rode his face, his tongue and lips drinking in every drop you released. His tongue went from moving leisurely swirls along your clit to rough, mixing the rhythm up and having you yearning for more.

His cock was so hard it was painful. He wanted nothing more but to flip you over and fuck you from the back, have you keening and arching your back for him as you screamed his name over and over again, legs shaking and orgasm so strong you black out but he needed this just as much. Wanted to have you flood his mouth with your arousal, he needed to struggle to breath as you put all your weight on his face and took what you needed, deserved.

Your head was thrown back as you chanted his name like a prayer, your voice becoming embarrassingly higher. Small flicks that he left against your clit were becoming more distressed and the thrust of your hips was almost making it hard for Joel to breath but he would die happily if it meant dying in between your legs with his tongue pressing against your enterance.

“I’m so close,” you whimpered out loud, your cunt clenching around his tongue as he behaved like a frenzied woman between your thighs. His tongue was everywhere all at once and you could feel yourself start to build up, the excitement of the release making you tug on his hair harder as fucked yourself harder on his face.

Joel pulled back for air, his breath laboured and eyes glossy. He gave himself a few seconds to collect himself as you made stared at each other, both so fucked out your brains it was ridiculous.

“You gonna come for me, pretty girl? Gonna coat my face?” Joel asked, his words broken up due to being unable to tear his mouth away from your clit for more than a few seconds. “Answer me baby, tell me how good I’m making you feel - “ Joel cut himself off with a long, drawn-out moan as your hands returned back to his hair. “Keep tugging my hair.”

Tugging harder and putting most of your weight onto Joel’s face was the only response you could give him. Your moans and whimpers matched Joel’s as he continued his tortuous assault on your cunt and you weaved your fingers throughout his hair, your fingernails digging slightly into his scalp causing a delicious burn.

The burn in your lower stomach grew stronger with every movement of Joel’s tongue and your legs started to shake around his head. “Come, pretty girl,” he growled against your clit. “Come so hard on my tongue I can taste you for days.”

You dissolved into pleasure as you felt your orgasm rush through your body, every part of you in utter bliss as lowly moaned out Joel’s name. His own cries of pleasures were adding to the orgasm, the vibrations rippling through you. His hands grabbed you tighter as he held you down, surely not able to breathe but frankly, not caring in the slightest. This was heaven to him. Being able to feel your thighs shake and stutter, your whole body clench up and the taste of your wetness gushing out of you and onto his tongue, drinking up every inch of you like he was a man dying - he was done for. This was perfection. This is what he had been craving for so long.

It felt as if everything had stopped as you gently moved your cunt across his mouth, the last of your orgasm sizzling out. You attempted to move off Joel and give him a chance to catch a breath but he pulled you back down, using his tongue to clean up the evidence of your orgasm. It was only when the pleasure became too much that you pulled him back with another pull of his hair, earning an almost silent whimper from him.

“You did so well, baby,” he whispered as he moved you down to his lap and sat himself up. Joel’s hand moved to your face as he brushed some of the hair out of the way. You looked so good, so blissful and angelic. He looked even better though, completely fucked out as he tried to labour his breathing.

You nodded slowly and pressed your forehead against his. “So good. Thank you, thank you so much.”

Joel gulped and hesitated before speaking, “We can do this again,” he started, ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to shut up. This was so wildly inappropriate but how was he meant to resist you after you’d just sat on his face and ridden him to high heavens? His heart clenched at the hopeful smile on your face. “Our secret though, baby. Can’t tell no-one, ya’ get that?”

“Our secret.” You leaned back on Joel’s lap, expecting to feel his hard cock pressing into your sensitive core but instead, you just felt his soft bulge and a hint of disappointment hit you. “You not get hard for me, Joel?” you asked sadly.

There was a devilish smile on his face as he watched you shuffle back until you rested on his lower thighs, your eyebrows pressed together. You undid the buttons of his jeans and slid your hand inside of his briefs so you could cup his bulge - he had wanted you so bad before, what had happened?

Joel continued to watch you with a smile as your mouth formed into the perfect ‘o’ shape at the realisation of what had happened.

“For me?” you asked sweetly as you removed your hand from Joel’s boxers, the remnants of his come on your finger tips.

“For you,” he answered with a faint blush to his cheeks. “Made me come untouched, girl. All from those pretty fuckin’ hands of yours in my hair and the way you rode my face…” he trailed off and grabbed your ass, pulling you against him. “Suck ya’fingers baby, taste me.”

You did as told, maintaining eye contact as you slipped your digits into your mouth and tasted him on your tongue. Fuck, he was delicious.

“Funny,” you moaned around your fingers before letting them pop out your mouth. You leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to the side of Joel’s mouth, ignoring his look of confusion. “Told me I couldn’t handle an older man but it looks to me like you can’t handle a bit of younger pussy.”

Joel chuckled as his fingers started to trail along the inside of your thigh. “I’m not finished with you yet, darlin’. Fuck, I ain’t even started yet.”

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us smut #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #ok imma go eat my lasagna now

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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

Note

i don’t know if ur taking request right now, but I love ur writing so much!! I was wondering if you could do something with poly!marauders x reader? Where reader gives blood for the first time and the marauders either work there (maybe emt!marauders?) or are just there with her and reader is almost finish when she says that she isn’t feeling well and she almost passes out?? 👀 and then they all panic and comfort her??

Thanks for requesting angel!

cw: mention of blood, needle, basically everything you'd expect at a blood donation clinic + nausea and fainting

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“First time?” Sirius asks as he ties a rubber tourniquet around your arm.

You blink, looking away from the rows of chairs laid out beside you and back to him. “Sorry?”

“Is this your first time donating?”

“Oh. Yeah. How did you know?”

Sirius—he told you to call him Sirius when you sat down, though at first you thought he meant the word serious—grins at you. He has dark hair tied in a messy yet startlingly chic chignon at the back of his head, his face seems chiseled from marble, and he’s one of the few people working the clinic today in paramedic uniforms instead of nurse’s scrubs. His attractiveness intimidates you, but his demeanor sets you at ease; it’s a real trial for your nervous system altogether.

“You look a bit nervy,” he says.

“I don’t know why I am,” you laugh, nervously. “I’m not squeamish or anything, I just…haven’t done this before.”

“That’s perfectly alright. A lot of first-timers are a bit antsy.” Sirius’ gloved finger begins prodding at the crook of your elbow, but his eyes are on you. “Get comfortable, darling. You’ll be grand.”

You aren’t sure how, exactly, to get comfortable, but you try to settle into the plasticky chair. Sirius’ cheek apples like he appreciates the effort. He looks down at your arm. It feels oddly vulnerable, like he’s staring at the softest, most delicate part of you. You try not to think about it.

“Alright, here we are.” He grabs his supplies from the table beside him, gaze flickering to you again. “You want to close your eyes, sweetness? I know you’ve said you’re not squeamish, but just in case.”

You close your eyes, thinking that you’re more likely to anxiously vomit from him calling you sweetness than anything else.

“Perfect. Okay, you might feel a little poke.”

It is little, so little you barely feel it at all, but that doesn’t keep your stomach from hopping up into your throat. You take in a breath through your nose.

“Doing alright?”

“Mhm. Sorry, yeah.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, gorgeous. Just let me know if you start to feel funny or anything.”

Funny might describe the state of your head right now. Sounds seem to fade in and out, your focus slipping. You feel sure Sirius can see the sweat beading on your upper lip.

But you stick it out, breathe steadily in and out your nose, and soon Sirius is telling you, You’re doing beautifully. Almost done.

Unfortunately, the next breath in comes with a rush of nausea. You feel like you should tell him.

“Um,” you mumble, eyes still closed.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not…feeling…”

The last couple of words get all tangled up in your tongue on their way out.

“Hey. Hey, babe, you okay? Can you open your eyes for me?”

You try. It’s like looking through fuzz.

“James!”

You want to pick your head up and see what’s turned Sirius’ voice so urgent all of a sudden, but you don’t have the strength.

“Here she comes. You’re alright, love.”

You make a small, humiliating sound as you rouse, made all the more humiliating by the way the voice shushes you gently. You remember where you are instantly, and wonder why you’re lying flat on your back on cool tile rather than sitting in the chair.

The shushing voice isn’t Sirius’, either.

“Can you open your eyes, please?” it asks.

You do, somewhat reluctantly, subjecting your corneas to cruel fluorescent lights and the stare of the man above you. It’s a rather kind stare, really. Hardly fair to say you’re being subjected to it.

“Hi there,” he says. “How are you feeling?”

“Hi.” You look down your body, to where another man is sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding both of your ankles on his shoulder. “I’m…okay. What…?”

“You’re at the blood donation clinic,” the first one tells you. “You fainted.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

The man at your feet laughs. “That’s alright, babe. All in a day’s work, you know.”

Not long ago, you remember feeling like all the blood was draining from your body. Now, you’re quite sure it’s returning to your face with vigor.

“How long was I out?”

“Not long,” the man by your head reassures you. “We only just managed to get you lying down when—”

“Oh, good!” Sirius startles you, coming up from behind your head without warning. “You gave me a fright, gorgeous. I did tell you to say if you started feeling funny, didn’t I? I thought we had a repartee. How are you feeling now? Is Remus taking good care of you?”

You blink. It appears your brain is still functioning at somewhat less than peak performance, and you struggle to keep up with all his questions. “I’m fine. I…I did try to say…”

“It’s not your fault, love,” Remus says, covering the top of your head almost protectively with his hand. He gives Sirius a dry look. “We’re supposed to ask beforehand if you have a history of fainting.”

“There’s no history to be had!” Sirius defends himself. “It’s her first time. Luckily, I have catlike reflexes in terms of sounding the alarm, and James was quick enough to catch her before she toppled out of the chair.”

“Oh, first time.” The one who must be James gives you a sympathetic look. His thumb rubs over your ankle bone as though to comfort you. “I hope this hasn’t spoiled it for you, lovely. I’m sure it’s scary.”

This doesn’t feel like the sort of thing you’re meant to reply to, but when both Remus and Sirius look at you with similar pitying expressions, you squeeze out a meek, “I’m okay.”

“We’ll try to make sure you leave without too awful of an impression.” Sirius grins at you, squatting by your side. “We’re just gonna take it nice and slow, babe. How about sitting up to have a drink?”

When you nod, Remus slips a hand behind your back, supporting you upright. James sets your legs down as he does.

“Alright, any preferences?” Sirius begins lining up plastic bottles on the floor beside you. “Our bar is stocked with apple, orange, and grape juice and water.”

“Ooh, he must really like you,” says James. “Normally he hoards the grape juice for himself.”

Sirius shoots his friend a nasty look, but he doesn’t deny it.

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yinyuedijun · 26 days ago

Text

TRUST FALL | asakura shin x f!reader

Shin is a painfully vanilla guy but tries his best to let you live out your kinky fantasies. You have a breakdown when you try to indulge his very normal one. (Or: 3 times Shin humoured your kinks + 1 time you humoured his.)

11.5k words, sequel to situationship. nsft tags: fingering with the power glove, free use, somnophilia, domesticity kink + breeding kink. all sex is consensual (sometimes veers into cnc territory, shin relies on esp to obtain consent), none of it is rough or mean. toward the end of the fic, the narrative focuses on anxieties and/or desires about starting a family. chapter 203 spoilers. dividers by @/cafekitsune!

IMPORTANT: the reader is hypersexual due to off-screen sexual trauma, which is not explicitly described, but is discussed. there is also one non-graphic nightmare related to this trauma that turns into a horny dream about shin (lol). 20% of this fic is a psychosexually strange healing narrative, 80% of it is just silly porn.

Sometimes, Shin is glad that he can hear all your thoughts.

Mind you, it's not like he doesn't want to give you some privacy. God knows he's tried a million times to tune out your internal monologue the way he can normally do with other people, and god knows you’ve tried your hardest to imitate the cognitive trick that Nagumo does to keep his mind hidden away from Shin. The reality is, though, that your feelings always overpower any psychological barrier that the two of you attempt to create. Your thoughts are always too loud for him to ignore, usually because you're either too happy or too horny around him to keep them quiet. Apparently Shin has that effect on you.

But often he doesn't mind it. It’s sometimes even convenient. Helpful for all the stuff that you want to do in bed, for example.

Now, Shin’s known from Day 1 that you're kind of a freak. He’s seen enough of your psyche to understand the exact nature of your sexual fantasies, and on the day that you became an official couple, he went home and googled how you're supposed to have safe, sane, and consensual sex with a person who dreams of doing the exact opposite of that. Although Shin is himself a strictly vanilla guy, and the two of you were already having perfectly nasty vanilla sex that was satisfying you—he likes you a lot. He wants to treat you right, give you nice things. This includes everything from flowers to chocolates to exciting orgasms for the rest of your life, even if it means he’ll need to get a little freaky about it.

Shin’s since ended up learning a lot about BDSM, and he’s also ended up trying a lot of basic BDSM practices that don't really work on you. You are shockingly bad at enforcing your boundaries. You always get too horny to remember your safeword (Resident Evil—you chose it yourself), find it too much work to use nonverbal cues, and you dry up whenever he tries to use the traffic light system.

“It doesn't matter,” you once whined at him, “it’s not like I’d ever not wanna have sex! You can do whatever you want to me.” Which was an insane thing to say, and exactly why Shin feels like you should know how to use a safeword. But when he tried to explain this to you, you’d crawled into his lap and begged him to fuck you anyway. His dick got so hard that he could only say yes, though he first made you understand that it would be regular sex, not the stuckage roleplay you'd been asking him to try.

Regular sex. You're only supposed to be having regular sex.

There is no reason why you should be in tears right now, desperately trying to stop yourself from cumming on Shin’s fingers—and all over his power glove.

This is mostly your fault. Mostly. Ever since seeing Shin nearly kill someone using the thing, you've fantasised about him having it on in bed. Specifically, you’ve fantasised about him wearing it while his fingers are knuckle-deep in your dripping pussy. Shin wasn't ever planning on humouring those daydreams, but, well. He likes you a lot. He wants to give you nice things. If you want to have a mind-blowing orgasm while you're grinding your clit against the power glove, he'll let you—on the condition that you don't ruin it.

You've been having a lot of difficulty fulfilling this condition.

You're breathless, broken. Face tight from the effort of holding back your orgasm for so long. You’ve cum nearly twice now, and only didn't because Shin decided not to force it. Not yet, anyway. He admits he's being a little mean: every time he curls his fingers and rubs your sweet spot, he feels your cunt drip for him and he can’t help but do it more. The tears pearling up at the corners of your eyes and the way you're trying to squirm away from his hand would ordinarily make him stop—even make him worry—but then he hears you thinking, right there, right there, feels so good Shin you make me feel so good do that again, and then of course he has to comply.

“Shin,” you whimper, “I’ll cum if you don't stop that.”

You try to pull away again, hips jerking back from his touch, but your pussy is begging for him—tight and wet and greedy for more. His fingers are soaked, as is the black steel encasing his palm. Part of Shin feels like the glove has already been ruined; the rest of him is too horny to care. Completely unrepentant, his thumb rubs gentle circles into your clit, and he feels his cock throb at the noise you make.

“Shin,” you whine, “don't.”

He glances up at you. “You want me to stop using my fingers?”

No. You bite your lip. Pretend to look distressed. “I… I’ll make a mess if you don't.”

“I'll slow down,” he promises, and when he eases the pressure on your g-spot, your inner disappointment is so loud that he knows what he should do next.

When Shin lowers his face between your legs and pushes your thighs open with his free hand, you squeal.

“Shin!”

“What? I’m not using my fingers. Should be fine, right?” He doesn't need to wait for a response—he already knows what you're thinking—so he leans down and puts his mouth on you the way he's been wanting the whole night.

You whine when you feel his tongue on your clit. Clench immediately around his fingers—more Shin please I want more please touch me the way I like, you know where—so he curls them again, and the way you cry makes him want nothing more than to get on top of you and fuck you properly.

But that's not how you want to cum. You don't want to cum on his cock; you want to finish on his fingers, soak the sheets, and probably ruin Natsuki’s day with a repair call. So Shin closes his eyes and starts sucking at your clit, and he’s relentless about it—even though you try to push him away, even though you start keening and telling him to slow down, even when you’re panting hard and pleading with him to give you a break. “Shin,” you say, voice breaking, “Shin, no, I can't, please, I'll—I’ll cum, you gotta stop, no no no, I can't, I can't—”

You sob. Fully cry as your back arches, and Shin groans as you gush all over his fingers. Can’t help but watch as you fall apart for him, the way you’ve been wanting the whole time. He admits that it was hot seeing you cum despite the fact that you were begging not to, knowing that he was the one to make you lose control. Still, Shin is a vanilla guy; as soon as you've calmed down, he's wiping away your tears and studying you carefully.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Was that alright? I was reading your mind the whole time and did whatever you were saying to me, but I was still a little worried that—”

You throw your arms around him and shut him up with a kiss.

Once Shin gives up on the use of safewords and starts relying on his clairvoyance, the free use thing also becomes a lot easier.

Now, it isn't like you aren't beaming into Shin’s mind—whether at the store, in your home, or even on the train—that you want him to fuck you at all times. It isn't like he's happily obliging whenever he's over at your place, as many times as his dick will allow. But he likes to ask first, and he likes to hear you say yes first. Unfortunately, you have the specific fantasy that Shin doesn't care what you want—you just want him to manhandle you and pull you onto his cock whenever he feels like it. Also, it's apparently very important that he takes you by surprise, and that he keeps going even if you complain about it?

Shin truly doesn't get it. He's not opposed to having frequent sex. He likes you a lot, wants to give you nice things. You want his cock inside you at all hours of the day? Sure, he’ll give it to you. But why do you want him to be so rude about it? Whatever happened to saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’?!

So anyway, he does it.

It’s hard catching you by surprise. His ESP tells him that you do want—and now expect—to be fucked nearly every moment of every day. You want it in the morning, when you wake up in bed and heat starts curling in your belly at the sight of him next to you. You want it when you're in the kitchen, trying to focus on making dinner while you squeeze your thighs together and try to relieve some of the heat between your legs. You want it as you clean the windows, your panties soaked and thighs messy with slick, thinking of the way Shin fucked you against the glass just the day before.

Want you inside me, Shin, you think nearly all the time. Want you to use me. Please?

This is how you find yourself leaning against the kitchen counter, all the dishes in the sink forgotten as your pussy squeezes around his dick. How you find yourself warming his cock as the two of you watch TV, your focus on the screen wavering as his fingers circle your bud. How he ends up interrupting you when you’re trying to read, pulling down your top so he can squeeze your breasts and tease your nipples through your bra. Stress relief, he calls it, which is true. There are fewer things that take his mind off his ex-assassin troubles than playing with your tits as you squirm on his lap, listening to you squeal and whine as you try to read. Sometimes he can get you to cum that way, too—just by licking and pinching your nipples and letting you grind yourself on his thigh.

It takes him a long time to actually get you off-guard, though.

He finally manages it when he comes home after a late shift in the store, wound up from nearly (but not actually!) killing two hitmen. It wasn't the violence that had bothered him, really; it was the fact that those pricks had knocked over an entire shelf in the store in the process of attempting murder. Couldn't they have attacked Mr. Sakamoto outside?! It took fucking forever to clean up and restock all those cooking wines and soy sauces. Assholes.

To his significant shame, Shin spent his entire commute afterward thinking of coming home and seeing you. Not to kiss you and cuddle with you, which was the sort of thing he wanted to do at the start of the relationship—but to pull you onto his lap and hear the cute noises you make whenever he plays with your body. Apparently that's now his stress response after several weeks of your free use policy, which makes him want to die a little bit. But as this been your explicit goal, he also decides not to fault himself for it too much.

By the time he's stepping into your apartment, he's already hard and thinking about which positions he’ll fuck you in.

In a miraculous twist of fate, Shin catches you while you're folding laundry and thinking about the news, rather than the way his dick felt inside you last night. He knows then that this is his moment: the stars have aligned, and he can finally fulfill your favourite fantasy.

“Shin,” you say, face lighting up. “Welcome home! I didn't hear you come in.”

When he kisses you, you beam at him in a way that's so pretty and innocent that it makes his cock twitch and has him feeling bad about what he's about to do. The two of you could have a wholesome night in for once. You're in the mood for it. He can tell from the way you’re chattering at him about your day off with Lu, and how you’re thinking about maybe doing a trip to Hakone with him because of a travel ad you saw on the subway. I've only ever been once on a mission… it would be nice to go as a couple next time. I wanna go to a ryokan with Shin…

Shin would definitely enjoy a couple’s trip with you. Not just to Hakone, but everywhere else in the world too. Maybe it can be an annual thing, something to do for anniversaries. (Though it's not like he’s thought of destinations for your next five anniversaries or anything. Nope. Not at all.)

Ordinarily he'd start trip planning with you on the spot, but this is an unprecedented opportunity, and his dick is throbbing from the sweet way you keep looking at him. You're in the middle of talking about plans for the rest of the evening, still folding laundry, when Shin's hands slip beneath the hem of your t-shirt.

He feels like a creep doing it. It's rude, right? It's so rude. You were thinking just now about making some popcorn and cuddling up to him and watching John Wick tonight. You weren't expecting to feel his palms sliding up your sides and cupping your breasts. Or for him to start kneading them.

But after a moment of shock, Shin hears a mental cheer from you that’s so loud that it nearly has him laughing.

Of course, you don't voice your enthusiasm. “Shin,” you whine instead, squirming as his fingers start circling your nipples, “I'm—ah—trying to get these chores done.”

“I’m sure they can wait,” he says, pulling you backwards. His cock presses against your ass and your thrill is palpable in his neurons. “This’ll be quick. I promise.”

You don't give in immediately. You chide him a little, then make a half-hearted attempt at continuing at your task. Your hands shake as you pick a shirt out of the basket and start folding it, all while you're being groped and teased and rutted against like a toy. You’re opening a drawer when Shin’s hand wanders between your thighs and he runs his fingers along your shorts. They're thin enough for you to feel his touch through the fabric, and you shudder when he starts rubbing your pussy through them—with a precision that has you melting, because he can hear it when you think about how good it feels when he touches your clit like that, especially while he's ignoring your complaints about it. Who knew you had it in you, Shin? you giggle internally. (Definitely not him, he wants to reply.)

He slides a hand into your shorts, and that's when you drop the laundry and give up.

Shin finds himself fucking you for the better part of the night, first from behind, then from beneath you. The sight of you bouncing on his cock drives him so crazy that he has you pinned underneath him not too long later, moaning and drooling as he drives you into the mattress. He only stops when you start thinking that you're starting to feel too sore. (You can keep going anyway, Shin, you tell him, but he knows he wouldn't be able: it kills his boner whenever you're in any kind of pain.)

But even if you’re a bit uncomfortable, you're practically glowing by the time he's finished.

“That was so fun,” you say as you kiss him. “You should do that more often.”

Shin snorts. “I don't think we can have sex any more than we already do without my dick falling off.” He gives you a curious look, suddenly worried. “Is this really not enough for you, though? ‘cause I can do other things if you want. Use my mouth, or toys, or whatever…”

You seem confused. “Well, it's not really about how many rounds we go…”

He blinks. “It's not?”

“No.”

“Then what is it about?”

You tilt your head. “Haven’t I said it? I mean, I've definitely thought it. It’s about being treated like a ho—”

“I know,” Shin interrupts, deadpan, and you giggle. But then he's studying you intensely; if he wants to give you exciting orgasms for the rest of your life, he'll need to understand what makes you tick.

“What’s the appeal of, uh… being treated that way? If it's not just about how many times we do it in a day?”

Shin encounters one of the major limitations of ESP: if you can't form a coherent thought, then Shin can’t read it. He can only see the knot in your brow, feel the discombobulation in your mind as you try to make out the exact shape of your desire. See it in your face when you can't.

“Who knows,” you finally say. “It's just hotter the way we did it just now, I guess? Like, it's a whole genre of porn. Tons of people like it.”

He frowns. Shin truly doesn't get it, and he wishes he did. But he doesn't need to understand your fantasies to humour you, as long as it makes you happy.

Though... there is one free use scenario he can't deliver.

No matter how many times he’s tried and how many times you've begged him, Shin can't bring himself to have sex with you in your sleep.

He feels a bit bad about it, honestly, because you clearly really want it. You've pleaded with him to try it out for the past twenty nights in a row, slept in exceptionally revealing lingerie just to tempt him, and have recently begun a diabolical routine of teasing him every night. You make out with him, rub yourself on him like a cat in heat, and grind your core on his aching cock through your tiny little panties—all before rolling over in bed and knocking out.

But despite your new habit leaving him with the worst case of blue balls in the world, Shin just can't bring himself to touch you in your sleep.

He doesn't get how it's supposed to work in the first place. It's a kink you probably picked up from all the fanfiction and doujinshi that's rotted your brain, and it doesn't make sense at all when applied to real life. A trained assassin is the worst person to try somnophilia with: “You're a light sleeper and your first instinct is to kill anyone who startles you,” he’d pointed out once. “How am I even supposed to touch you in your sleep without you waking up and accidentally stabbing me?”

In response, you started to take benadryl and melatonin before going to bed, and you promised that you would absolutely, 100% not stab him if you woke up in spite of that. (Okay, it might be more like 90%, but Shin can just use his ESP to see the future and dodge, right?) This flabbergasted him, but also didn't really surprise him.

It also didn’t really help.

The heart of the problem is that somnophilia is truly just too freaky for Shin. Despite everything he's tried with you, nothing really hits like vanilla sex. Even when he's enjoying the more adventurous stuff, he can only do so if he knows without a doubt that you're fully into it, and that's just kind of impossible if you're asleep when he's doing it. What if you wake up and realise that you didn't want any dick that night, actually? What if you wake up and you feel complicated, empty—not as good as you thought you would?

“But I’m always going to want it,” you insist, “and I'll like whatever you do with my body! You don't have to worry about all that.” Which is, again, an absolutely insane thing to say—but Shin doesn't know how to explain that to you. Your mind buzzes with frustration and something that feels a little like heartache whenever he tries, a knot in your chest that you don't really understand yourself, and it makes him feel so bad that all he can do is kiss you until your sadness ebbs away.

So Shin keeps his hands to himself, even when you're having the horniest dreams he's ever seen.

He doesn't mean to peer in on them. It's just impossible not to when you're next to each other in bed and your subconscious is making you think and feel crazy things. The sad dreams are probably the loudest ones, but the wet dreams are a close second. And this current dream is both very wet and very loud. Whenever Shin closes his eyes, he sees it clearly: some faceless man is on top of you, inside you. With each thrust of his hips, you shift in your sleep—thighs pressed together, hips twitching. Hot breaths, little whimpers. Your body is begging to be filled.

Shin doesn't take it personally that you're dreaming of some random guy instead of him. It's part of a particular kind of free use fantasy for you—the idea of anonymous men using you impersonally, like some kind of gloryhole. You used to think of it so much in your waking hours that it's lost all shock value to him. It doesn't turn him on, either—it's just not his thing.

So he lies down next to you and prepares to fall asleep to some pretty mundane gangbang visions. He's nearly drifted off when something happens that makes his eyes open wide—

You start to feel uncomfortable.

Uncomfortable, uncertain. You've just realised that you can't recognise the face of the man on top of you, that you aren't sure if it's Shin. You’re squirming, wanting to get away, because I don't want anyone other than Shin to touch me, I don't want anyone other than him to use my body, I don't want anyone other than him inside it. A sense of panic grips you, and now the whimpers you're letting out don't sound needy anymore.

You sound afraid.

Shin is on you immediately. A hand on your cheek, his voice soft so as not to scare you. “Hey,” he says, “I’m right here. I'm right here. Wake up for me, okay? C'mon.”

He shakes you gently, and then not so gently, and now he's wondering what ungodly cocktail of sleep meds you took to stay unconscious like this. But even if you aren't awake, you can still hear him, his voice cutting through the fog of your sedative-fueled dream—and that's enough to comfort you. You can make out his features now, which are so handsome that you can't help but calm down.

Oh, your dream self says, it is you. Hi, Shin.

Shin sighs. “Hi,” he says, voice full of relief. “Yeah, it's me.”

The little smile you give him is so tender that his heart lurches. I'm so glad, you sigh. I don't want anyone else to do this to me.

This dream version of you is chatty. Infinitely chattier than your real self. I wouldn't have minded some other guy on top of me in the past, you know? you tell him as he undresses you. As long as I came, I didn't really mind whoever was inside me. It's not like I got to choose anyway. I was using my body for missions, so I only slept with whoever I got assigned. Cumming was a nice bonus though.

The Shin in your dream kisses a path from your jaw to your neck to your breasts, ignoring you. (The real Shin would never do this—he would probably start crying if you ever talked about any of this stuff out loud to him, actually.) He doesn't reply as you keep babbling about what sex used to be like for you, about all the stuff that Shin’s seen in your sadder dreams. Not that you think they're sad; you don't know that you sometimes cry in your sleep. You don't think it's too strange that the kind of sex you had for missions sometimes made you pretend that you weren't in your own body, that the kind of things being done to it weren't also being done to your heart. As long as your body had an orgasm, then you were probably enjoying it—that only makes sense, right?

But then you started sleeping with Shin, and sex always feels so different now. Shin doesn't just make you cum; he makes you feel like you're melting. Like you don't want to be anywhere in the world except in his arms where he can hold you and kiss you and hopefully fuck you a second time.

I never liked going multiple rounds with other people the way I do with you, you observe. I kinda feel like I maybe didn't like having sex at all. But you like it if it's Shin. All the things you hated doing with other people—being held, being kissed, being used—you always enjoy doing them with Shin. You’re actually pretty sure that you were doing them all wrong before you met him, and it's nice that your body feels right whenever he touches you now.

That's what you like most about when he fucks you, actually. You can always trust Shin to make your body feel right.

That's when it clicks for him: the shape of your desire, the reason your heart twinges when Shin starts talking about safewords and boundaries and how he can't just do whatever he wants with you. It makes him feel an ache in his own chest, and he finds himself leaning down to kiss your forehead, and then—after a long, thoughtful pause—the silky contour of your mouth.

The Shin in your dreams moves in lock-step with him. Kind of. He kisses you as well, his hands wandering all over your body. But then he gets wildly out of character. Shin goes bright red when he hears the porn dialogue he's been assigned. He wants to wake you up so he can tell you that he wouldn't ever call you his cum dump (what the hell), but it's making you wet that you're being treated like one—and to his utter shame, Shin’s dick is starting to twitch too. Something about you squirming underneath him, desperate and vulnerable for him even when asleep, is making his brain short-circuit.

When you start begging him to touch you—please, Shin, I was so scared I need to feel you now, need you inside me right now, want you to use my pussy, only you and no one else—Shin feels something inside himself snap.

And he touches you.

He starts with your breasts, because that seems least likely to disturb your sleep, and god knows he doesn't want you to wake up and witness him doing something so deranged. But your eyes stay closed even though you feel his touch in your dreams, your nipples pebbling as he teases and pinches them. Your brow dips and you whine, and you only get louder when his tongue starts swirling around a nipple—but you stay fully asleep.

When he reaches down, he's unsurprised to find your panties soaked through. Not just from your juices, but also from all the cum he left inside you earlier in the day. He strokes you through the ruined satin, a thumb rubbing your swollen clit, and he’s startled to feel you get even slicker. His dream self wonders at how sensitive you are, how needy your pussy is, and Shin cringes at hearing himself saying all that—but he also agrees. You always make a point of using toys to keep yourself stretched out for him if he's not around to do it himself, and your body is at this point practically trained to expect his touch—but even then, it's shocking how ready you are to take him even when unconscious.

When he pushes your panties to the side, he sees your hole is fluttering around nothing—both here and inside your dream. The sight makes him lose any shred of self-restraint, and he frees his dick from his sweats and starts fisting himself until his length is slick with his own pre-cum. Your subconscious can't quite recreate the feeling of taking his cock, leaving you panting and unsatisfied, and he fully intends to fix that.

He lines himself up with your slick folds—and he pushes into you.

Shin can hardly believe that you're still sleeping right now, all while your pussy helplessly swallows his cock. He'd feel bad if he didn't know how blissed out you were, your subconscious flooding with euphoria, your body overfilled with pleasure. He's being pretty rough with you in your dreams, but he's careful with you in reality, the way he's always told you he'd be.

Plus, he really doesn't want you to wake up.

But despite his best efforts, your eyes open. You're groggy, confused, not understanding what's happening and how come your breasts are exposed or why is there a cock inside you—and then your eyes are going wide as your pussy starts pulsing around him, and you're gasping and crying as you feel yourself soaking everything.

By the time you figure out what's going on, Shin’s come back to his senses. He blurts an apology on instinct, launches into a garbled explanation of why he was fucking you—but you just give him a dazed smile, a sweet little kiss, and then you turn over to spread your dripping pussy for him.

“Keep going, Shin,” you say, voice drowsy but no less clear. “You're still hard, right? Use my body until you feel better. Promise I'll like it.”

Shin sucks in a breath, feels the last threads of his sanity snapping. He's a vanilla guy, after all. Nothing hits like hearing you ask to be fucked out loud—except for maybe the sight of his cum dripping out of your swollen, needy pussy, your cunt fluttering around nothing and clearly wanting his cock back inside it. The combination is driving him wild.

You don't end up getting any more sleep after that.

The two of you do a lot after that. Way more than Shin ever thought he would in bed, including the most embarrassing roleplays in the world. There was the stuckage roleplay, the sex worker roleplay, the school classroom roleplay, the french maid roleplay, and—perhaps the worst of them all—the chikan roleplay.

(Yes—the two of you tried the free use thing in public, with Shin feeling you up during a commute home as you squirmed and pretended to ignore it. He'd tried to be subtle, telling himself he would stop if anyone noticed what you were doing, but you kept thinking that you really wanted him to keep going, so of course he had to oblige. Shin now can't take the Yamanote line without wanting to die from shame, nor without thinking about you instantly cumming on his fingers when he told you that you were being watched.)

But despite all those insane sex acts, nothing scares him as much as when you ask about his kinks.

“I don't have any specific fantasies,” he says quickly. “I'm a vanilla guy. You know that.”

“Uh huh. Sure. I also know that you're lying.”

He tries not to sweat.

“It’s okay, Shin,” you say delicately. “You don't need to be embarrassed. Breeding kinks are very common and respectable. It's the most normal thing out there, if you think about it. Humans need to procreate somehow, don't they?”

Shin can't form a response. He’s too busy visualising potential escape routes from this room, of which there are none because you are much faster than him and could easily intercept him if he bolted. When he accepts his fate, he forces himself to look at you and finds himself being stared at. Studied.

“So,” you say.

“S-so?”

“Tell me what flavour of breeding kink you like.”

His face burns. “What do you mean, flavour?”

“Like the kind of scenario where the breeding is happening. Like omegaverse, or hybrids, or those stories where someone's chained up and forcibly bred. You know.”

Shin realises then that he absolutely cannot tell you the fantasy that has him furiously jacking off when you aren’t around. He just knows you wouldn't understand it, and possibly you'd also read too much into it. Maybe you'd even freak out and break up with him. He’ll need to keep this a secret and carry it to the grave—or at least for another five years, after which it might make more sense to bring up as a serious conversation.

But you're very, very persistent about asking, and around five weeks later, he caves and tells you everything.

“Pleeease, Shin,” you beg for the millionth time, batting your lashes and giving him wide, pretty eyes you know he can't resist. “Whatever it is, I promise I won't judge. Like—I’m the last person who can make fun of anyone for their kinks. You know the kind of shit I read.”

Shin does indeed know the kind of shit you read—he’s also read it all, secondhand through your thoughts—and he does indeed know that you are in no position to judge anyone else for their preferences. But judgment isn't what he's worried about. It would be easier if it were. If his breeding kink had anything to do with omegaverse or hybrids or the weird dubcon stuff you described, it would be far less incriminating. But given the truth, he coughs and tries to crack a joke—“I dunno, it might be too freaky even for you”—and you give him a look so disappointed that he nearly flinches.

“H-hey—what’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” I just wish you trusted me. “I’m fine, I promise.” I trust you with my thoughts. How come you can't trust me with yours? “Don't pay attention to whatever you can hear from my mind, by the way. It's not anything you should worry about.” I don't want you to feel guilty.

The two of you have a strict rule, given your lack of mental boundaries: when Shin overhears something that you don't want to discuss, he's supposed to pretend it never happened. Usually he obliges, but this is just impossible to ignore. You have a point: you are willing to be vulnerable around him 24/7. There are no psychological barriers between the two of you. Each moment you choose to be with Shin, you also choose to forfeit all privacy for your heart—an act that confuses Shin as much as it moves him. Because everyone dislikes his uninhibited access to their minds. Everyone has something to hide. Everyone should be at least a little bit afraid of him—you, most of all.

The one time Shin voiced all this, you gave him a funny look and thought, I don't understand what you mean.

Because you don't mind that Shin can hear all your thoughts. You don't mind him knowing your insides, feeling out all the places that make you feel nauseous and bruised and dirtied. You don't mind that he's seen things about you that make you feel disgusted with yourself, things that make you feel like your body is undeserving of love—because you know he won't judge you for any of it. Because Shin is a good person, he’s good to me and he's good to my body, better than anyone else has ever been and will ever be. That must be why I have such mind-blowing orgasms when I sleep with him.

I didn't know how good sex could feel until I met you, Shin. Did you know that?

Shin did know that. He had actually figured all that out some time ago from seeing your dreams, which is only making him feel worse. His access to your thoughts is so unlimited that he understands your desires better than you do yourself. It's only fair that you should also understand some of his, right?

Besides, it's just a kink. A harmless kink. You won't think too hard about it, right?

Right?

He clears his throat.

“I…”

You glance at him, curious.

“I'm kinda into… like, a domestic kind of scenario… with the whole, uh…”

He can't bring myself to say it, so you do it for him: “The breeding thing? Like, you’re into the idea of breeding me in a domestic roleplay?”

Shin is going to die. But he perseveres, because it's you, and you deserve this bare minimum from him: “Yeah… like. You're a housewife, and we… y'know.”

You give him a blank stare, which then gives way to understanding. “Oh! I know what you mean.”

“D-do you?”

“Yeah! Like those doujinshi where there's a lonely housewife and the neighbour cucks her husband by sleeping with her, right? Or her daughter’s boyfriend sleeps with her. Or the husband’s father.” You hum, studying him, somehow not reacting to the way his jaw just dropped. Just what the hell have you been reading when he isn't around? “Or is it one of those wedding NTR scenarios?”

“What? No!” Shin really is going to die. But he comes clean, because he won't be able to live with himself if he gets roped into a roleplay about any of those situations: “I just mean, like. We’re a married couple, and we’re trying for a baby.”

You stare, and he hears the open confusion in your mind. Apparently you can't fathom why anyone would find a life of domestic bliss sexy if it's not about to involve some form of cucking. But you keep your word and don't judge him: “Oh. Well, that'll be easy enough to do.”

Shin blinks. “You mean… you’ll do it?”

“Of course I'll do it,” you say, warm and reassuring. “I wanna make you feel as good as you make me feel, Shin.”

Something in him melts at the words, especially because he can hear that you're saying them with your whole heart. Every response he can think of is lacking, and he's at a painful loss for a reply. But then you cheerfully add, “And anyway, you fingerbanged me on the Yamanote line. This is the least I can do in return,” and Shin goes back to wanting to disintegrate.

Despite Shin’s insistence that his fantasy has nothing to do with the R18 cucking doujinshi that you read, you seem dead set on taking inspiration from them. For the next week, he's subjected to some of the worst imagery he's ever encountered as you “perform research” for the scenario you're planning for him—which is to say, he reads a great deal of ecchi manga through your thoughts. Their contents make him incredibly afraid of whatever you'll come up with, but he's also oddly touched at how committed you are to the whole thing, so he can't help but leave you to your machinations.

And to be fair to you, you do your due diligence by asking him additionally what he wants.

“What’s your idea of domestic bliss?” you say one afternoon, when the shop is slow and sleepy and Lu is mercifully absent. “Like, what do you imagine a happy household looks like?”

Shin knows the answer immediately: Mr. Sakamoto with Ms. Aoi and Hana. Eating a home-cooked meal around a table with them and Lu. Waking up each morning to the scent of miso soup and the noise of a laughing child. Hana running into the store as she returns home from school, carefree and loved. Watching you teach her how to fold origami cranes so you can make some to hang from her ceiling. Seeing you beam when she says, Thank you, neesan.

Being embraced by you when he comes back to the store after almost dying. Feeling you wipe the blood off his knuckles before kissing them. Hearing you say, Welcome home, I missed you, let’s eat dinner. Cooking for you with his hands that he once used only for killing.

That's family to Shin. All of you, in the store, together.

Now, Shin will absolutely die if you use such sacred memories as a reference for this roleplay, so he doesn't voice any of this. Problem is—he doesn't have any other reference point for what a family should be. He grew up in a lab, and then afterwards he watched his father explode on a ship. You can't exactly fill in the gaps for him either, given how you were raised, and he constantly listens to the buzz of your disappointment at having no real material to work with for this roleplay.

“I dunno,” Shin eventually says. “Maybe, like, I come home and you’re in the kitchen? And I help you make dinner? And we eat together and go to bed together. I feel like that's what a married couple does.”

You hum. “Yes, that sounds right. And I'm wearing an apron, right? With a conservative outfit that's still tight enough to be kind of sexy?”

“Uh…”

“And I'm super lonely because you've been neglecting me because of work and we haven't had sex in two years?”

Shin is baffled. You can't even go two hours without asking him to have sex—two years is unfathomable. “Uh…”

“And the neighbour has made several passes at the lonely housewife next door, but I turn him down because I only want my husband’s cock inside me, right?”

Shamefully, Shin’s dick twitches at this last suggestion. Still, he says, “Er, no, I’d really just like you to act as you normally do. I don't need a re-enactment of The Neighbourhood Housewife series.”

“Aw, okay… And you're really sure you don't want me to wear an apron?”

Shin overhears a thought, and he almost snorts. “You're free to wear one if you want.”

“I just feel like aprons do a lot for me.” You give Shin—and his shop apron—a meaningful look. “Don't you?”

Shin tries not to flush. A little afraid that you'll next suggest that he wears an apron and plays a lonely househusband, he hastily says, “Good point. I think you should wear one.”

When Shin gets home that Friday, he discovers that aprons do a lot for him too.

This revelation is shocking for him, given all the housewife-centric porn that he's been forced to read secondhand. He's seen probably half a dozen women in nothing but aprons and hardly reacted to any of them, but the sight of you in a sky blue apron, humming as you chop away at some carrots, is doing something horrible to him.

The setup is getting to him too. There are couple photos placed throughout your apartment (among them is his personal favourite, taken among the cherry blossoms at Himeji Castle), as well as a fake wedding band on your finger (he’d picked out one with you at your insistence, and Shin thought it was funny at the time but now his ears are going pink at the sight of it). The air is rich with the fragrance of cooking rice and simmering curry. New curtains, a vase of flowers on the table, unfamiliar decor and some of his personal effects are placed throughout the living room—all to create the illusion of just having moved in together.

The scene isn't making him feel horny, exactly. It's more like it's making him feel warm.

It’d be nice if the two of you could live together like this, he thinks. If Shin could really come home to this everyday, and if you could really greet him with a kiss and smile, and if you could cook together and spend time together and fuck nasty together, if you could take your husband’s cock every day and get filled up with his—

Oh. Those are your thoughts. Not Shin’s.

He clears his throat, and he half-expects you to crack a joke about your dirty monologuing, but instead you put down your knife and come by to kiss him on the cheek. “Welcome home, dear,” you say warmly, and Shin’s heart jumps at the pet name. You smile as his cheeks flush: My husband is so handsome, you think, and Shin feels like he's about to explode.

Somehow, this is harder for him than fingerbanging you on the Yamanote line. That was mortifying, but this roleplay is quickly revealing things about his psyche that frankly distress him. Still, he plays his part, and tries to get into the appropriate mindset. You're his wife right now—his beautiful, pretty, gorgeous wife who he lucked out with and somehow married and now he’s has a home with you, and he's going to start a family with you, and he hopes the baby will have your smile and eyes and hair, and he's going to take so many photos of the two of you, and holy shit he's so glad you don't have ESP.

Anyway, he comes up with an underwhelming response: “H-hi. How was your day?”

“Good,” you say. “Was nice to get a break from work. Missed you the whole time though. You kept me waiting too long.” Wanted to feel you inside me all day, you whine at him mentally, and Shin doesn't know how actual married couples go about their daily lives. If you were really his wife and he heard you thinking like that, he'd probably never leave the house.

(Roleplay, he reminds himself immediately after. This is a roleplay. He shouldn't think about actually marrying you. That would be a dangerous route to go down, and he definitely hasn't thought about it before. Nor dreamt about it. No, sir.)

“I'll make it up to you,” he promises.

“You'd better.” You point at the curry that's simmering on the stove. “You can start by helping me with dinner.”

The way the rest of the night is similar to a regular evening together. The two of you cook together, eat together, and clean together. The only difference is that instead of hearing you monologue in your head about how much you want your boyfriend to fuck you, Shin is instead subjected to fantasies about your life as newlyweds. You beam a false memory of your wedding night directly into his head, and the mental image of Shin fucking you in your wedding dress has him so bricked up that he nearly breaks several glasses.

By the time you've both showered and gone to bed, Shin has been tortured for hours with detailed fantasies about your married sex life. (They involve various sets of bridal lingerie, an amorous honeymoon in Thailand, and sex on every surface in the apartment. All unprotected, of course, and accompanied by tender kissing each time.) Somehow, you don't break immersion even once. Even when Shin joins you in bed, you're thinking about how lucky you are to have him as your husband.

Shin doesn't think he's ever been so hard in his life.

You giggle when you’re straddling his lap, feeling it for yourself through your silk slip. “Someone’s excited.”

“‘Course I am,” he says between kisses. “How couldn't I be?”

How couldn't he be, if you were his wife?

(Roleplay, he reminds himself again. Roleplay. This is a roleplay! It's not good to think in marital hypotheticals. It's stupid, really. But he's doing it anyway and holy shit is it making him horny.)

He reaches under your slip, isn't surprised to find your cunt bare and dripping for him. Stretched myself out for you while I was at home today, you think as you move your lips against his, hot and messy and addictive. Used a toy, but it just wasn't the same as my husband’s cock.

He groans against your mouth as he reads your memories of your day: not a fabrication like the hazy visions of your false wedding and honeymoon, but detailed and heated and real. How you really did feel the frustration of a lonely and neglected housewife and couldn't help but take your favourite vibrator and spread yourself out on your shared bed. How you split yourself open on it and moaned his name as it stretched you out. How you gushed as you came, and how it still didn't feel as good as Shin’s touch because you didn't get to kiss him and feel his arms around you at the end.

He feels crazy when he lays you out beneath him. Insane when he studies your gaze, honeyed with lust, and your pussy, pretty and glistening for him. You give him a smile that's shy—genuinely shy, he can tell from your thoughts, because you've done a million freaky things but you've never acted out anything so tender before. Never played house like this, never imagined a cozy and warm life where you get to have a family.

He's never really thought of it before, either. He never had a cozy and warm life growing up, and he didn't really think he could ever change enough that he could have one. Never thought he could have a family, and maybe this is just a roleplay, but it's the first time he's really envisioning himself starting one.

“Are you gonna put a baby in me, Shin?” you ask shyly, and he nearly cums in his pants.

Shin generally likes to take his time with you in bed. Even if he can hear you mentally whining for his cock, he ordinarily likes to tease you with his tongue and fingers first. But he's desperate to be inside you today, and he can tell that you aren't upset by how quickly he frees his cock and presses it against your entrance. He can feel himself throbbing as he slides between your folds, his cock twitching at the slick and sticky noises from your cunt.

“So eager,” you tease. You break immersion just to taunt him, bedroom eyes turning sly: Wow, you really do get off to this stuff. Never would have pinned you for the type to enjoy breeding someone like this—

“Wife,” he corrects you without thinking, and you blink.

“Huh?”

“You’re not ‘someone’, you're my wife,” he says, fully talking with his dick, “I wouldn't marry anyone other than you, and I wouldn't put a baby in anyone other than you.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed. Shin is vaguely aware of your heart pounding as he lines his cock up with your entrance, your pussy fluttering even as your mind scrambles for words. “O-oh, really? I mean, I guess that is what the scenario-ohhh—aah…”

Your mind goes blank as Shin pushes into you, and Shin’s finding it equally hard to think. He can never get used to how you feel around him—tight and hot and perfect—and it’s even more overwhelming this time thinking that he'll get you pregnant. The thought has him feeling so insane, he can't help but start fucking you immediately.

You gasp when he starts thrusting, driving his cock into you at an angle that has you curling your toes. Pleasure bursts in your mind as he hits your sweet spot, your pussy squeezing around him each time. He's touched you so many times, fucked you into oblivion so many ways, committed every inch of your body and mind to muscle memory—it’s easy for him to take you apart, force you toward a quick finish.

Your hole starts dripping uncontrollably, and your belly tightens in a way that short-circuits your thoughts. Shin reaches between your bodies before you can fully comprehend it, rubbing your clit until you’re whimpering.

Sometimes your mind sounds very needy when you’re about to climax—more more more, right there, right there, don't stop, don't stop—and sometimes you sound pretty depraved—that’s right, Shin, fill me up, wanna be your cum dump—and sometimes you sound very tender—please kiss me, please hold me, please be as close to me as you can—but right now, you just sound shocked.

A-already? you think, dazed, and before your brain can catch up with what he's doing, Shin presses down on your belly and grinds his cock against your g-spot and suddenly you're tearing up as you gush all over him.

It's so hard not to cum with you. Shin nearly has to resort to using ESP on himself to keep it from happening. But he fucks you through your orgasm without pause, and he doesn't really slow down until you're a hazy, fucked out mess. Every inch of your body is so wrung out from pleasure that Shin can't hear a single, coherent thought—just a mindless rush of dopamine—which means you're probably relaxed enough to take his cock just the way he wants.

He brushes his lips against yours, sweet and easy, before he says, “Let me know if this is too much.”

“Hmm?” Not ready to form real words yet, you think, What are you up to, Shin? and You can do whatever you want with my body, you know that now.

Shin answers by throwing your legs over his shoulders. You squeal when he practically folds you in half, grabbing at the sheets when he starts to move again. Your pussy tightens around him as he pumps his cock into you, your body eager for more even though you just came. Deep, you think, gasping, it's so deep—

Shin feels it when he hits your cervix, and he hears you thinking it too. You keen when he does it again, moaning at the feeling. Feels good, Shin, you reassure him, your fingers reaching for your clit. Keep going. It's all he needs to hear before he starts pounding into you again.

He feels like an animal when he fucks you like this. Can't think about anything other than how deep he is inside you and how completely he's going to fill you up, how you're going to be walking around with his cum inside you for days. You’re thinking about it too—please, Shin, want your cum in me, want it in my womb, want you to breed me, please, please, wanna give you a baby—

Shin groans, his hips stuttering to a halt as his cock starts twitching, and soon he's pumping thick ropes of cum into you. You follow not long after, you pussy milking his cock as you gush all over him. He lets it, too—stays inside you the whole time and makes sure that you take it all, the two of you kissing each other hungrily. Only pulls out once you're both spent, and you whine at the emptiness afterwards.

Your hole is stuffed so full that his cum drips out of you almost immediately; you make a small noise as you feel it soaking the sheets. Somewhat predictably, you reach in between your legs, spreading yourself to give him a show.

“You came so much,” you say. “I can’t keep it all inside me.” As if you even tried.

Shin is used to your cumshot displays, but he feels his throat go dry at the sight anyway. “Um…” He licks his lips, and he’s momentarily torn between cleaning you up with his mouth and pushing it all back inside you. “Aren’t there, um. Positions you're supposed to stay in after? To help. With keeping it in. To get pregnant, I mean.” At least Shin remembers this fact from one of the many breeding fics you read over the past week.

“Are there? Oops.” You give him a guilty look. “I didn't know that. I guess we're gonna have to do that all over again.”

Shin snorts. Figures. “I'm gonna need a few minutes,” he says. Then he lies down, pulls you with him. “I wanna hold you first anyway.”

You make a happy noise as you're wrapped up in his arms, his chest pressed against your back as he curls around you. Apparently still committed to your role, you grab your phone as you snuggle up to him and look up post-coital positions for couples trying to get pregnant. Shin watches you type on your screen, idly touching you all the while—his lips kissing your shoulder, his fingers running along the arc of your hip. “Oh, huh, you're right. I'm supposed to lie down and keep my lower body elevated…”

“Elevated?”

“Yeah, people put a pillow underneath their hips sometimes… or sometimes they put their legs up.”

He makes a face as he tries to imagine it. “Sounds uncomfortable. I feel like the pillow thing should be enough… not that I think it's gonna make a difference with how often you like to have sex, anyway.”

You laugh. “Kind of a wonder I'm not pregnant already, huh?” Then you give him a look that's supposed to be shy, but is a touch too playful to be convincing. “But hopefully I will be after this.”

Heat crawls up his neck as he listens to your thoughts. You're not even imagining anything especially filthy—just thinking about what it'll feel like to carry his child. Shin recognises some of your monologuing from a fanfiction you read two days ago, a lot of which is sort of sensual. But it's really the original, non-sexual bits that are doing a lot for him. Stuff like how you'll probably have really bad morning sickness, but you know Shin will be there to rub your back as you throw up. Or how you're worried about whatever weird cravings you’re going to get, but you know Shin will buy whatever snacks you want. Or how uncomfortable you'll be when your stomach gets huge and the baby starts kicking, but I bet Shin will be excited to feel that, though.

There's a long, heavy pause before you think, You're gonna be such a good dad, Shin. Because Shin is a good person, he's good to you and he's good to your body and he's good to everyone at the store. He’s going to be so good to his child, and he’ll be good to their mother, too.

Shin doesn't realise that his fingers are resting on your stomach until he feels you lay your own over his. He closes his eyes and imagines a life there, cradled beneath the hand that he once only used for killing, the laugh of a child carefree and loved, the sound of your voice welcoming him home at the end of the day—every day, for the rest of his life—and obviously it's just a roleplay, it's a roleplay and he's being a moron for thinking in marital hypotheticals, but he says, “I can't wait to start a family with you.”

You stiffen.

Shin blinks. He listens for your thoughts, but there's only a long, crawling silence, and then you bolt upright and say, “Resident Evil.”

His eyes go wide. He sits up, reaches out for you—“H-hey, what's wrong?”—but you're already slipping out of bed.

“Need to pee!” you squawk. “Don't want to get a UTI, y'know?” And then you're gone and the bathroom door is slamming shut.

Your apartment is small, just like most places in Tokyo. The washroom is well within 400 metres of the bed, so Shin can fully hear you crashing out in there. The thoughts are incomprehensible at first—garbled words, high pitched buzz, flashbulb images. Chain link fence. Bloodied knife. Needle in a child’s arm, a string of cranes hanging above their head. Zombies on a screen, Mario and Princess Peach. An older boy with white hair, pinching a crease into flower-patterned paper. Niisan left me they all left me they never wanted me. Nobody ever wanted me, except for Sei-nii but that was only to use me for missions so many missions I lost count. A dark room full of men, their jugulars slashed. Other men, other rooms over the years. There are so many of them, so many men inside my body using my body has Shin ever looked in my head and counted them all?

The sound of chimes in a convenience store. Your favourite place in the world. Then Shin at the stove, in an apron. He's so handsome. Now he's holding a baby, a little boy who looks just like him.

There's someone beside him, and it isn't you.

You turn on the shower, and the rush of water is loud so Shin can't hear the sad little noise you make with your throat, although you can probably hear everything in my head, right? Sorry. Please ignore me. I'll be normal in a minute.

Shin wants nothing other than to kick open the door to help you, but his guilt stops him. His regret at how invasive his powers are, at how he can't shut out your thoughts, so loud and raw, when you most need privacy. It's the least he can do to respect your wishes and leave you alone.

He sits on the bed, listens as the roil of your thoughts become a simmer and then still. The shower turns off. The toilet flushes. I really don't want a UTI. You wash your hands, count to ten, and you come out looking and sounding so calm that if Shin couldn’t read minds, he'd never guess that you just had a mental breakdown in the toilet.

“Hi,” you say neatly as you sit down, and Shin pulls you into a hug so suddenly that you yelp.

“I said to ignore my thoughts!” you whine, squirming in his grip, trying to get away.

Shin actively stops himself from sighing. “I don't need to hear your thoughts to know something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong. I'm fine! I'm normal. I'm very normal right now.”

He gives you a long, unimpressed stare, but you return it with the look of a prey animal about to bolt, and he realises he has to humour you.

“...alright,” he says, “you're normal. Nothing's wrong.” Shin watches you uncertainly, seeing the tension in your body, hearing the rush of blood in your skull. You're staring at your fingers, remembering how to fold the wings of a paper bird. Trying to focus on the motions and not the person who taught them to you. Trying not to let Shin see all the people you miss and all the things that weren't meant for you.

You find it hard to look at him, so he stares at the wall instead.

“Do you want to be left alone right now?” Shin guesses.

Your voice is very, very small: “...yeah.”

Shin’s brow knots, but he can't hear anything other than a vague emptiness from your heart now, and he shouldn't be listening anyway. Shouldn't exploit the fact that your mind is so defenseless around him.

He's pulling himself away when you say, “Wait.”

You’re visualizing escape routes out of the apartment right now. You'd beat Shin in each one, and you'd be able to disappear from Tokyo long before he could ever catch up to you. But you stay on the bed instead, fidgeting as you stare at your lap, and even though your face is calm, the flood of your thoughts is so scared and sad and hopeful that Shin finds his head and heart aching simultaneously. He wants crush you in his arms and say all the things you want to hear—and then all the things you need to hear, but don't know.

But he stops himself.

“If there are thoughts you want me to ignore,” he says, “then you'll need to say the ones you want me to know out loud.”

You wince. You trust Shin with listening to all your thoughts, but actually voicing them is something you're not very good at yet. Assassins are secretive by nature, and you were raised to be a killer. I’ll throw up if I say this, you think, face miserable.

“You'll throw up if you don't,” Shin points out, feeling your stress response in his brainstem.

You nearly look—and feel—physically pained when you say, “I… I’d like it if you stayed.”

Shin's not sure when his own heart started feeling so heavy, but he's relieved to feel the weight lift. “Okay.”

So Shin settles next to you in bed, and after a moment, you start to relax. The anxious chatter of your mind goes quiet. The old memories stop blinking at you. You try to focus on your boyfriend to further ground yourself. He has a handsome face so it's easy. He goes bright red at the thought, which makes you smile.

Shin cracks a joke, which makes you snort, and after that you crawl pretty eagerly back into his arms. You demand kisses and he happily obliges. Your fingers seek him out and he knows to hold your hand. You rest your head on his chest and you listen to him talk about all the goings-on the store, the upcoming movies he wants to see, the ryokan he's booked for the two of you, and now you're very drowsy.

People's thoughts get slippery and strange when they’re on the verge of sleep. Sometimes it's garbled nonsense, but sometimes it’s their unguarded feelings. Shin hears yours, faint and scared but so very, very tender:

Wasn’t raised for a life like that… Never even thought about it… But if it's Shin…

Shin wants to grab you and make you look at him. If it's Shin, what?! he wants to ask. Suddenly, he’s having insane thoughts about if you’d like to actually live together and when's the right time to get serious and come to think of it, Mr. Sakamoto wasn't much older than him when he got married, right? Maybe he's not crazy for having daydreams where your face is lighting up at a diamond ring that he got you. Not a fool for wanting to come home to you every night. Not losing his mind for thinking that it might be nice to have kids at some point down the line.

Not stupid for maybe sort of really wanting to have them with you.

It did make him feel like he was insane, when he first started having those thoughts. Shin had never contemplated any of that stuff before. He’d grown up in a lab. Drifted through life being rejected for his powers. Shot his own father and watched him die. The only person who looked out for him after that was Mr. Sakamoto, and then he dipped soon afterwards anyway. All this to say, Shin wasn’t exactly raised to expect that he'd someday have a family, either. Never even thought about it, because he was sure he'd never get it.

But even if he’s never expected such a life, Shin can’t help but hope for it when it comes to you.

He would really like to tell you all this, but by the time his own mental crashout is over, you're fully asleep and drooling on his chest. So deep in the REM cycle that when Shin tries to read your mind, he catches you dreaming about kissing him on the Yamanote line, giggling into his mouth as his ears turn red. Typical.

There's a ring on your finger, different from the pretend-play version you left in the washroom. This one’s got a diamond, simple but pretty. It suits you.

Shin commits the design to memory, and he decides to stay up a little bit longer, watching the dream with which you've trusted him.

END

notes: the funniest part of this fic to me is how much build-up was required for shin to try the most standard kinks on tumblr dot com. i am very sorry if you felt misled by the summary/tags, expecting to read something super kinky only to find that this fic was fairly vanilla. i blame shin.

also i know this is not my best writing </3 I actually lowkey wanted to delete it all at the midway point alskdfjsldfkj but we move. please do let me know if you liked it!!!!

#asakura shin x reader #shin asakura x reader #sakamoto days x reader #sakadays x reader #sakamoto days smut #shin asakura smut #dividers by @/cafekitsune

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natalievoncatte · 14 days ago

Text

“Are you ready?”

Kara was at her desk, which was frankly rather unusual. She was plugging away at something, deep in concentration on whatever she was writing. Lena stopped to watch her for a while from the doorway, leaning against the frame. She found herself doing so more and more often now, largely for one reason: Kara Danvers was the prettiest girl Lena had ever seen.

If you asked Lena her type, she wouldn’t have described Kara Danvers, who was more athletic than svelte, built with strong shoulders and a swimmer’s silhouette. For all of Kara’s efforts to hide beneath soft cardigans and corduroy, it was obvious how jacked she was.

There was more than that, though. It wasn’t just her eyes, a peculiar shade of blue that Lena was sure she’d never seen before; it was the intelligence behind them, the curiosity and wit and shy, stammering confidence. Kara had a kind of nervous courage, for lack of a better way of putting it.

And she was gorgeous, of course. Honeyed curls, soft skin and pillowed lips and those gorgeous eyes, radiant eyes even behind a chunky frame.

Lena would never confess that she was a little in love with Kara. Even after the flower thing, and the buying the company thing, and…

Yeah.

“How about lunch?”

Kara looked up sharply. “What? Oh! Lena hi, I’m just-“

“Don’t give me that,” said Lena. “I’m treating you to lunch.”

“As my boss or my friend?” Kara asked, cautious.

“As me. No shop talk.”

Kara brightened; Lena had… put her in her place, not to put too fine a point on it, a few weeks ago when Kara snapped at her over a perfectly normal request to actually put in some time in her office.

It was necessary.

It also hurt like hell.

Kara made some noises about her work but acquiesced, grabbing her messenger bag and walking with Lena to the elevator. They rode in an moderately aggressive awkward silence; Kara seemed to be one of those people who chronically distrusts elevators despite-

The power went out.

The lights went with it. The elevator car dropped a foot in half a second and Lena felt herself crashing into a solid wall of Kara just before the emergency lights slammed on.

Lena took a moment. Kara had gently caught her and pulled her into a loose hug, for which Lena was grateful as it kept her from slamming her knees into the floor of the elevator.

“Lena? You okay?”

“I’m fine, you?”

Kara gently released her. “I’m… yeah. Fine. Are we stuck?”

“Power’s out. We might be here a while.”

Kara’s eyes went comically wide. “Nothing!”

Lena quirked a brow. “Okay.”

“Really, I’m fine. I was looking forward to lunch! You know me, always hungry. I wish I’d brought some snacks! I like snacks. Do you like snacks?”

Lena stared at her.

“Kara?”

“Of course you like snacks, that was so dumb. I’m sorry, I,” she looked frantically around the small space they found themselves in, “I don’t know why I’m… I’ll shut up.”

Lean shrugged and sat down, leaning against the back wall. Kara did not, choosing instead to pace, which was a tad annoying given the space they were in, but she was more worried about Kara than anything else.

She seemed… frantic.

“Are they going to come get us?”

“Eventually, if the power doesn’t kick back on first.”

“Do you think we’re stuck in between floors? I think we’re in between floors.”

“Probably.”

Kara flipped the panel down beneath the buttons and pulled out the phone inside, the plastic creaking in her grip. She pushed at the HELP button, but nothing happened.

“They know we’re in here right? Someone knows. They won’t leave us.”

Lena blinked.

Oh. Jesus.

“Kara,” said Lena. “Why don’t you sit down? We can just wait for help.”

She gave a short, sharp shake of her head in reply, like some frightened creature. She was now hugging herself and trembling.

“It’ll be soon, right? I can get out soon. I have to get out.”

“Kara,” said Lena.

Kara stared at her, and Lena knew.

“You’re claustrophobic.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Y-yes,” said Kara.

“Sit down with me, okay?”

Finally, she sat, shoulder to shoulder with Lena. Lena took her hand and squeezed it softly. Kara’s hand reminded her of an exotic bird quivering in her palm. Her pulse had to be racing.

“It’s going to be okay. They’re working on getting us out right now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Kara swallowed.

“I won’t let anything hurt you,” said Lena.

Kara looked at her with big, wide eyes.

“At least it’s not dark,” she said, lamely.

The lights immediately went out. Kara yelped and Lena felt her jump, hugging herself as her head thumped against the all.

“Oh Rao please no,” Kara whimpered, “please not again I can’t do it again.”

Rao? What the hell was a Rao?

“Lena, it’s dark.”

“I’m right here.”

Lena wrapped her arm around Kara’s shoulders, and found she was shaking like a leaf. A strained, choking sob ripped the air and Lena felt Kara plunge her face in her hands.

She was hot, almost feverish, and her coiled muscles felt like steel cables, even as they trembled. Lena could feel Kara’s heart pounding, incredibly fast.

“Get me out, please get me out.”

Her cell had no bars. Lena tried anyway; nothing.

Kara, very softly, began to cry. When something creaked, she almost screamed, jolting Lena.

“They can’t get in, they can’t get in, they can’t get in.”

“They?”

“The phantoms,” Kara choked out. “The other things. They want to get in, they want to get me.”

“Kara, we’re in an elevator. There’s nothing outside but concrete and steel cables.”

“Are you real?”

“Of course,” said Lena.

“It felt like I’d sleep for years, then I’d wake up and something huge would be crushing my pod or the phantoms would be scraping their claws on the canopy and looking at me. They just stared. All they had to do was wait.”

“Your pod?”

Kara froze, going totally still.

“I… uhhh… I mean my… my bed? No, the car, from the accident, my parents died in the accident, I hit my heed.”

“You told me your parents passed in a house fire.”

Kara swallowed hard. “Did I?”

Her voice was thin and hysterical.

“Please, Lena, I’m scared.”

Lena gently guided Kara’s head to her shoulder and rocked her there, lightly carding her fingers through her hair.

“It’s alright, Kara. It’ll be alright.”

“Lena,”

“It’s okay,” said Lena. “Everyone gets scared. Everyone has a fear. Even you.”

Kara sucked in a breath.

“Pod,” said Lena. “Phantoms.”

“Lena I…”

“Shhh,” said Lena. “Hush now. You’ve already saved me at least three times, I owe you one.”

Kara gently wrapped her arms around Lena and sobbed into her shoulder. Lena suspected that Kara couldn’t break them out, so she didn’t press it. She just let Kara hold her and gently stroked her hair and softly sang an old lullaby she half remembered, stumbling back over the same verses.

There was a last a loud bang and Kara jerked, then let out a slow breath as the elevator doors at last spread open, forced apart by workmen.

Lena made sure Kara got out first. Then, Kara reached down and lifted her by the waist, setting Lena gently beside herself.

“Thank you,” Kara murmured.

Lena felt the eyes of the two workers behind her but she didn’t care. She smiled softly.

“I’m not mad. Actually, this explains a lot.”

Kara swallowed, hard.

“I think we missed lunch.”

“Mmm,” Lena gave her a coquettish smile. “Why don’t we get dinner, then? Just us, at my place.”

Kara smiled, wiping away her tears.

“I’d like that.”

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #elevator #claustrophobia #claustrophobic Kara Danvers #identity reveal #Lena Luthor has a crush on Kara Danvers #lena luthor is secretly soft #protective lena luthor #Lena protects her girl too

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ki2rins · 2 months ago

Text

⟢ lowkey - nsr

pairings: badboy! riki x fem! reader || fluff, crack || wc: 5k

synopsis: news flash! nishimura riki is finally mature enough to acknowledge his feelings for you and he wants to let you know! but what would he do? A. try to feed you? B. walk you home? C. many more. or D. all of the above? warnings: hes not really a badboy...just more of a get into fights/suspensions boy, loosely based / integrated from the anime - my little monster, highschool! au, petnames, playful banter, teasing, confident ni-ki, shy reader, swearing, - lmk if i missed out anything! playlist: lowkey - niki, moonstruck - enhypen, your eyes only - enhypen, is this love - XG rin's yap: gawddd first try at writing an actual fic, big thanks to bby who sent in the ask, ily smm <3 do let me know what yall think about it!

➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

nishimura riki or ni-ki was too boisterous. too boisterous for your calm, simple minded nature. he was noisy, you were quiet. he was sporty, you were not. he had a reputation that followed him wherever he went, while you preferred to stay low and blend into the background. yet, despite these stark differences, he always seemed to gravitate towards you. shocking you by leaving random candies on your desk, doodles on your notebook and even occasionally gives you a smile or two whenever your eyes meet. you thought to yourself, countless times even, on the reasons why ni-ki would shower you with these subtle affections. little do you know that the man, the myth himself, has a major crush on you. ni-ki took note of every simple detail about you. from how you’ll do your hair - a simple ponytail on mondays to thursdays and a small tidy bun on fridays since there was gym class. he also noticed how you’ll forget to have your lunch when you are caught up on annotating your textbook, and today was the day he spoke up about it.

ni-ki’s footsteps echoed through the classroom as the door swung open. his usual confident stride was back after his suspension, as if nothing has changed, though the whispers around him had already started. he flashed his signature smirk to the few people who dared make contact, his reputation clearly preceding him. most of the students avoided him, but not you. you didnt really have time to keep your head into these dramas, and you certainly didnt understand why everyone cared so much about his return. yet, for some reason, there he was, standing at the entrance of your usual seat. “you mind if i sit here?” ni-ki asked, his voice laced with a lazy confidence, like it wasnt even a question.

you blinked, trying not to show the hesitation in your eyes. the desk next to yours was the only one left open. you nodded, but the words caught in your throat as he slid into the seat without waiting for your approval.

his eyes briefly scanned the open space on your desk - notes, pens, textbooks and the untouched lunch you had packed earlier.

“you busy?” ni-ki asked, as if making small talk with you was his second nature. his tone was nonchalant, like he was speaking to someone he had known for years, even though you had barely exchanged a couple of sentences before.

you glanced at him, then back at your notebook. “kind of.” ni-ki hummed, playing with the contents in your pencil case. “kind of? looks more like youre drowning in notes.”

you sighed, placing your pen down. “its lunch period, if youre not here to study, why are you sitting here and bothering me? shouldnt you be in the cafeteria or something?” he leaned forward slightly, elbow propped on the desk, resting his chin on his fist. “but you havent eaten.” ni-ki said lazily. his eyes stared at your lunch then back at you. “how do you-” “you do this a lot, get too caught up in work, forget the time then boom - lunch period passes and your lunch gets forgotten.” your mind went blank upon hearing the words that just escaped from ni-ki’s mouth. he described that usual routine so perfectly that for a second you wondered - do doppelgangers exist in this world? you were so lost in your thoughts that you didnt realised until you heard the presence beside you speak up again.

“eat.” ni-ki said as he nudged your lunchbox towards you.

you hesitated, scanning his face for any sign of teasing, but he looked…oddly serious. it was strange, having someone notice such a small habit of yours, much less some like ni-ki. at that moment, you found yourself staring at him - from his jaw to the countless moles on his face, to his lazy-looking eyes and the stray strands of hair resting on his nose. damn. he look…good.

“do you want me to feed you or something?” you blinked as you register his words. what in the world was he saying now? “come on yn, lunch period is ending in 10 minutes. chop chop.” ni-ki said as he took your lunchbox, opening it and passing you the sandwich you prepared for yourself earlier this morning, bringing it up to your lips.

“i-i can eat it myself.” you snatched the sandwich away and turned the opposite reaction. taking a bite as you feel blood rushing up to your cheeks.

upon seeing you shying away from him, ni-ki leaned back on his chair, arms crossed and a knowing smirk growing on his face. he admired the sight in front of him and it killed him to not take this chance to tease you even more, and what he says next really drove you insane.

“good girl”

then you choked. ➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

you were so caught up in your thoughts that you barely noticed the bell ringing, signaling the end of class. as you packed your thing into your bag, your mind drifted back to earlier - specifically, the moment when ni-ki pointed out that habit of yours.

“but you havent eaten”

“do you want me to feed you or something?”

“good girl”

your cheeks warmed again at the thought of his words. he was right, as much as it embarrassed you. it wasnt the first time you had forgotten to eat, but hearing him call you out on it felt different somehow - like there was a tinge of affection wrapped up in those sweet words.

as you were wrapping up your thoughts, you attempted to slip out of your seat, but you froze when ni-ki’s voice reached your ears.

“ready to go?”

you turned your head, confused. “ready to go where?”

his smirk remained as he gave you a nonchalant shrug. “home.” and that was how you suddenly found yourself walking side by side with ni-ki.

you cant lie, you dont have many friends. you chose to be part of a small, quiet circle that only hung out every once in awhile, mostly just to study or to catch up. your day to day was simple and predictable - go to school, proceed home, study then lastly, sleep. and so, it repeats again and again.

is he doing all these out of pity? is he…looking down on me?

it was unplanned, uncalled for even. you cant help but wonder if his actions covered up for any malicious intentions. but here you were, leaving the classroom and walking down the hallway, your footsteps in sync despite the silence hanging between you as you both made your way out of school. you glanced up at him, his hands shoved casually into his pockets, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

“so, whats your deal?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

ni-ki raised an eyebrow, glancing at you sideways. “my deal? you have been avoiding me.”

you stopped walking for a brief second. “i havent been-”

“yeah, you have.” he cut in smoothly. “you have been acting different lately, quieter. you dont usually keep to yourself.

fuck. why is he noticing every single thing?

but you could feel your heart skip a beat at his words. was it that obvious? you tried to brush it off, but his presence was so overwhelming, it was hard to hide anything. you forced a casual shrug. “its nothing.”

ni-ki raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “uh huh. sure. you have been way too quiet. no more random laughter with friends in class. not raising hands to answer questions anymore. you are usually…not this distant.”

you tried to think of a response but found yourself coming up short. was he always this perceptive? or were you just that readable?

“what about you?” putting up a more defensive front after being called out. “you dont exactly make it easy for people to talk to you.”

he just gave you a lazy grin. “i dont need people to talk to me. i have got everything i need.”

you blinked, unsure how to respond to that. his self-confidence, or maybe arrogance, was something that always threw you off. it was like he know he had the power to make anyone talk, but didnt care enough to do so.

“so, whats the plan after school?” ni-ki asked, his voice casual again, like the conversation had never left that easy, confident tone.

“im going to study.” you said quickly, almost instinctively, though your thoughts were drifting to the last few hours of class.

“of course you are. you always study, but you need a break.” he said as he turned, walking backwards now, his gaze never leaving you. “maybe i’ll join you someday, keep you company while youre at it. who knows, maybe i could even tutor you.”

your heart did a strange flip at his words, but you tried not to show it. “yeah, right. you spend more time being suspended than actually being at school, and you think you can tutor me?”

he shrugged, as if the idea didnt faze him at all. “well if you never try, you’ll never know.” he shot you a wink. “the invitation is always up, you could just give me a ring or drop me a text whenever.”

you hummed, trying to stay calm while still processing the casual ‘invitation’ ni-ki had offered to you. you wanted to snap something back, but the air between you was thick with something you didnt quite understand. was this the way he usually operated? you couldnt tell if he was serious or if he was just messing with you.

the walk home continued in silence, but your thoughts were racing. ni-ki was… unpredictable, and that made you nervous in a way you werent used to.

➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

and so, the weekend came along and not once did you leave ni-ki’s mind.

it wasnt like he didnt have other things to do. he had a routine - friends, his usual chaos - but somehow his thoughts kept drifting back to you. the way you blushed when he teased you about your lunch, the way you avoided meeting his gaze and the strange tension between you both that had been hanging ever since that walk home.

he didnt get it. you were different from the usual crowd he interacted with. quiet, reserved. he was used to people talking around him, trying to get his attention, but you…you didnt try at all.

maybe thats what made you so interesting. and alluring.

he found himself staring at his phone more than usual, waiting for a message from you. he had dropped the invitation, and part of him thought you had just ignored it. but another part of him wonder if maybe, just maybe you would reach out.

his fingers hovered over the keys, typing and deleting messages, not sure how to play this out. he wasnt used to feeling like this, like there was something worth waiting for.

with a frustrated breath, he tapped out a quick message, keeping it casual, trying to convince himself.

okay, you got this. just send the message. easy-peasy, no pressure.

he stared at the screen for a moment longer, then, with a sigh, he sent it.

ni-ki hey, its ni-ki just thought i'll remind you the offer is still open ;)

ni-ki stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, waiting for a reply. his thumb hovered over the phone, already anticipating the silent rejection or the awkward radio silence that might follow. you see, ni-ki is a boy who dreams big, but he does not know how to achieve his dreams. he is not sure on the ways to approach or even to impress you. he is just placing his bets on the weird and awkward gestures he does to catch your attention, and something about his gut told him this time - that it he has a shot.

still, he tried not to get this hopes up too much.

the minutes dragged on, and his eyes flicked back to his phone again and again, even though he knew it was ridiculous.

finally, the screen lit up. his heart skipped a beat.

it was a reply.

yn thanks for the reminder i'll think abt it

his lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. it wasnt exactly a ‘yes’, but it wasnt a ‘no’ either. but he was determined to make you say ‘yes’.

ni-ki well if ure gonna think abt it u might as well take me up on the offer

he hit send, then tossed the phone to the side, trying to distract himself with anything else. but as always, his mind drifted back to you. was he coming off too strong? was he annoying you?

a ping sounded, and he instantly grabbed his phone.

yn youre serious about this huh?

ni-ki smirked, tapping a finger to his chin like he was trying to play it cool. he then replied quickly.

ni-ki i mean it wasnt a joke in the first place besides im pretty sure i could teach u a thing or two

yn im not so sure abt that im fine studying on my own

he grinned, sensing an opportunity.

ni-ki i know u'll say that but we both know ure not the greatest at keeping up w anyth and everyth remember what happened during that lunch period? classic example of u getting lost in your work dont think i didnt notice

there was a long pause, and ni-ki started to think he might have pushed it too far. but then, his phone buzzed again.

yn youre really observant huh? you sound very much like a stalker but abt ur offer im not sure abt it im not yk the best study buddy

ni-ki laughed to himself before replying almost instantly.

ni-ki ure prob right but thats why u need me and yk me irl so i cant be deemed as a stalker :) plus i promise i wont bite unless u want me to

ni-ki cringed at the last part but he didnt want to delete it. thinking to let you decide how to comprehend that.

yn :l fine i'll give it a shot but dont expect me to enjoy it

ni-ki's grin widened. he had won this round.

ni-ki deal see? that wasnt so hard

yn whatever i'll see u tmr then mr tutor

he laughed before typing out his last reply.

ni-ki cant wait to see u tmr promise it'll be fun :)

once done, he leaned back against his bed, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. he wasnt sure what he had been expecting, but the fact that you agreed made it feel like progress. it wasnt much, but for ni-ki, it was a step forward and a win, is a win.

➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

you found yourself in the strangest places at the oddest times.

and here you are, standing outside ni-ki’s doorstep on a bright and sunny, sunday afternoon.

honestly you didnt expected yourself to agree to his offer at all, but something about his persistent messages and the way he would playfully pushed you to study with him had gotten to you. so here you were - standing in front of a you never thought you would be near, at a time you definitely never saw coming, door.

you took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, wincing at how loud it sounded against the silence of the street. your thoughts were scattered, your mind racing through the worst-case scenarios. what if he gave you the wrong address? what if hes not home? you swallowed hard, trying to shake off the wave of nervousness crashing over you.

just then, the door opened with a soft creek, there he was - ni-ki, standing in the doorway, donning just a simple tank top with sweats, greeting you with that familiar cocky smile on his face.

“hey” he said, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. “you actually showed up.”

you couldnt tell if his smirk was a teasing one or was he genuinely impressed at the fact that you were standing right infront of his doorstep. either way, it did little to calm your nerves.

“well” you cleared your throat. “i said i would, didnt i?”

he grinned wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’ll believe it when i see it.”

you rolled your eyes, trying to hide the flush creeping up your neck. “so uh. where are we studying?” you asked, doing your best to sound casual.

he stepped aside, gesturing you to come in. “follow me. i have a study spot all set up.”

as you entered, the tension in your chest started to ease slightly. it was just studying right, right? you could handle this. but still, you couldnt shake the feeling that something had shifted between the two of you ever since that walk home.

the study session wasnt anything out of the ordinary - at least, thats what you tried to tell yourself. you and ni-ki were seated side by side, books scattered across the desk, his room quiet except for the occasional rustling of papers and the soft tapping of your pens.

you tried to focus on your notes, but it wasnt easy when he kept glancing at you. his gaze was so intense, and it made your stomach do these weird flips you couldnt explain. every time you looked to your side, he’ll be looking at you with that half-smirk of his.

“need help with that equation?” ni-ki asked casually, leaning over to look at your paper, your shoulders making contact, making you tensed.

“i-i got it.” you stuttered, quickly writing down the the answer and shifting your body aside, slightly tucking yourself inwards.

he chuckled softly, clearly amused by your reaction. “relax cutie, im just making sure youre not stressing too much.”

your heart beat faster at his words, especially by the petname he just called you. it wasnt the first time he had said something to put you at ease, but somehow it felt different today. you couldnt help but notice how gentle his tone was, how patient he was with you.

there was a brief silence before you felt him brush his fingers against your cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. his touch was light, but it sent an unexpected shiver down your spine.

“youre too close.” you muttered, trying to distract yourself by scribbling down more notes, but it was hard when his hand lingered in the air, still so close.

ni-ki didnt seem to mind the tension. instead, he leaned back in his chair, eyes never leaving yours. “youre cute when youre flustered, you know that?”

you tried not to blush, but the heat creeping up your neck was unavoidable. “stop messing around.”

“im not messing around.” he replied softly, his voice suddenly more serious. he leaned towards you, resting his elbows on the desk, his gaze softening. “you know, i have been thinking about something.”

your eyes met his, and for a second, it felt like the whole world stopped. you felt nervous, your chest thumped in anticipation. you didnt know what he was about to say, but something told you it was important.

“wh-what?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

he hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking to your lips before returning to your eyes.

“i like you. a lot. like, more than just a study buddy. im not sure if you could tell, but i have been trying to get closer to you and i was praying all my gestures wouldnt shoo you away instead.”

your breath caught in your throat. you had not expect this moment, your heart raced, and you could feel the color rising in your cheeks, “ni-ki…”

he reached out, his thumb brushing the back of your hand gently. “i know this might sound sudden, but i like the way you are. quiet, thoughtful. you dont make a big deal out of anything. and…i think youre a lot more than you give yourself credit for.”

there was an awkward pause, and you werent sure what to say. you had been so focused on the fact that he was always the cool, aloof guy, that you had not noticed how serious he had been about this whole thing.

you did reciprocate his feelings back, but there was just one thing that was stopping you from doing so - his reputation. he was the headstrong boy who gets into fights and treats the world as his playground. you, on the other hand, were just an average girl exploring life one step at the time. both of you were polar opposites, and that scared you.

people had warned you about him before - teachers who sighed at the look of his bruised and battered sight, classmates who gossiped about his fights, the way he always seemed to get himself into troubles and brush it off like it was nothing. ‘he doesnt care about anything’ they said. ‘hes just looking for fun.’ but sitting here now, with the way he was looking at you, speaking so softly, so genuinely…you werent sure if that was true anymore.

before you could summarised your thoughts, ni-ki broke the silence, his voice playful again but with that soft edge of sincerity. “dont worry. im not expecting anything, not from you anyway. but i thought you should know.”

those four words that he slipped in hurt you in ways you couldnt explain. you wanted to admit your feelings for him but the fear still stays. however, something inside of you just wanted to give it a shot, not caring if you would get hurt in the process. life is full of growth anyways right?

“ni-ki” you said, still unsure of how to phrase your words.

he hummed, leaning close to you. “yeah?”

“im scared, but i want to try…wanna make this work. make this work with…you.”

➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

you and ni-ki did not settle on any label of your current in-between-friendship-situationship-relationship-state. instead, you both agreed to take this one step at the time, keeping things lowkey.

so when he texted you on a saturday night with a simple “wanna go out?”, you werent sure if he meant a date or just another random meet-up. but then again, did it matter?

the waves crashed gently against the shore as the two of you walked side by side, your footsteps sinking into the sand. the beach was quiet, save for the distant laughter of a few night strollers and the occasional rustling of the breeze. it wasnt planned, wasnt fancy - just the two of you, sneakers in hand, the salty air clinging to your skin.

“didnt think you would actually show up.” ni-ki mused, kicking a stray shell along the sand. his tone was light, but you caught a small smile tugging at his lips.

you scoffed, hugging your arms. “you do realise you texted me at, like, ten, right?”

“yeah, but youre here anyways.” he nudged you with his elbow. “you just cant resist me huh?”

you rolled your eyes, but your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat at the way he said it - so effortlessly, so naturally, like this thing between you had always been there.

the night stretched on as you walked, exchanging quiet conversation and playful remarks, but beneath it all, there was something else - something unspoken, lingering between your words - until ni-ki finally brought it up.

“you still scared?” he stopped to face you, his voice soft and you could tell he was serious, no teasing, no laughter. he didnt elaborate, but you knew exactly what he meant.

you hesitated, staring out at the dark horizon, “a little.”

ni-ki hummed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “good. means you actually care.”

he said it so simply, yet it made your chest tighten. you glanced at him, searching his face, and for once, he wasnt smirking. and in that moment you could tell - the facade was gone, he wasnt ni-ki but riki, just a boy looking at you like you were the only person on the stretch of sand.

you both now settled to sit on the sand, hearing the waves clash against each other as you both kept quiet. you studied his face once again, ni-ki hugged his knees, toes playing with the sand, the usual smirk on his face replaced with a faint frown. you could tell that he was distracted and for the first time, you felt his confidence falter and it was worrying you. his eyes didnt hold their playful spark, they were distant, thoughtful. you couldnt but ask.

“is everything okay?” your voice was soft, careful, unsure if you were stepping into something you shoudnt.

ni-ki looked at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. then, he sighed. “you ever wonder if people only see what they want to see?”

“what do you mean?” you blinked, processing his words, unsure of the hidden meaning behind his question.

he ran a hand through his hair, letting out another frustrated sigh. “i mean…im this ‘bad boy’ that everyone perceives me to be. i get into fights, i skip classes, i dont care about anything or anyone. people see that, and they think the know who i am. hell, even i have convinced myself that its easier to just be this…persona. its just easier to let people think im this heartless guy than to show them that…im more than that.”

his words tugged at your heartstrings. you knew the troubles, but you never understood it, not until this moment. the playful, cocky ni-ki you knew, that chased you, was suddenly nowhere to be found. instead, you saw someone who was burdened by an image that never felt like it fit.

“youre not heartless.” you said, your voice steady but filled with sincerity. without thinking, you reached out and gently placed your hand on his, the warmth of your touch grounding him in the quiet stillness of the night. “you never were.”

ni-ki looked down at your hand, gaze softening. “you dont get it. you dont know what its like to always be the guy everyone expects to mess up. i even made you second-guess this whole situation didnt i?” he turned to face you, eyes locked on yours.

you tried to search for the usual playful spark in his eyes, but it was gone. there was only vulnerability. he was no longer the confident, untouchable ni-ki, but just a boy who had learned to hide behind walls. his gaze searched yours, and for a moment, you felt the wright of his insecurities pressing down on you.

you couldnt help but feel guilty. you couldnt help but blame the world for putting so much on his shoulders. for making him self-doubt himself, for making you doubt him.

“you dont have to be that guy for anyone.” you said, your voice soft but firm. “youre more than what people think. i see you. the real you.”

ni-ki looked at you, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but didnt know how. his usual confidence seemed like a distant memory now, replaced by a quiet, raw sincerity that made your heart ache for him.

but to ni-ki, that was all he needed to hear from you, that was all he wanted from you.

acceptance.

ni-ki remained still for a moment, his eyes fixed on yours, as if searching for a hint of insecurity in your words. when he found none, a flicker of something softer passed through his expression. the tightness in his shoulders eased, but he still didnt smile - not in the way he usually did.

instead, he simple nodded, his voice barely across a whisper. “i guess…i have been waiting for someone to see me like that.”

the words were simple, but they carried a weight that you werent sure you were reading for. it was as if, for the first time, ni-ki was letting down the walls he had carefully built around himself, trusting you to catch him if he fell.

you didnt hesitate, you reached out, gently brushing your fingers against his cheek. “i see you, riki. just you. no one else.”

his eyes softened, the guarded look that had been there moments ago replaced with something much more vulnerable. the usual cocky grin was nowhere to be found, but there was something more meaningful in its place - a raw, unspoken gratitude.

slowly, ni-ki leaned forward, his breath warm against your face as he closed the distance between you. it wasnt fast, and it wasnt rushed. it was a quiet, tender movement, as though he was giving you the choice, the space to decide.

and for once, you didnt need time to think. you leaned into him, the kiss gentle at first, as if both of you were testing the waters - treading carefully. but as the kiss deepened, the walls between you both seemed to crumble further, and in that moment, you realised that despite everything - the doubts, the insecurities, the fear - you werent as different as you thought. you were both just two people trying to figure things out, finding solace in each other’s presence.

the world around you faded. the waves, the sand, the night - it all disappeared as ni-ki’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, as if he, too, had been waiting for something to finally feel real.

when the kiss ended, you both lingered in the stillness for a moment, breathing in the night air. ni-ki pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a playful spark finally flickering back to life in his eyes.

“so…are we, like…boyfriend and girlfriend now?” he asked, his voice light but with a hopeful smile.

you blinked, surprised by the directness, but then you smiled, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “youre asking me?”

ni-ki raised an eyebrow, teasing. “well, im pretty sure i have earned it.”

you rolled your eyes but couldnt stop yourself from smiling, the warmth between you undeniable. “i guess so.”

he grinned and pulled you closer, the playful glint in his eyes still there, but there was something more sincere behind it now, “good, because im not going anywhere.”

you leaned into him again, realising that whatever this was between you, it was real. no labels, no expectations - just the two of you, finally figuring things out together.

#enhypen #enhypen x y/n #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #nishimura riki #niki nishimura #ni ki #ni ki enhypen #ni ki x reader #enhypen riki #riki x reader #rin's works

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amazinglyashy · 6 months ago

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Sylus = Safety

At some point, somewhere in the deep unconscious of your mind, this became a fact, more than a feeling.

It's definitely not something you think about, no, but it's definitely a driving factor as to why you're walking into his main base of operations of the N109 zone after a particularly grueling mission nearby. Every muscle aches, and your joints are screaming at you to sit down, but you know if you listen, you won't be getting back up anytime soon, which is problematic given the slight gash in your arm and the bruising across your face and bleeding lip.

It's fine though, you know his place well. Or- maybe that was an overstatement. You knew where his room was, and the dining hall, and then the kitchen. That was the extent, though, even though the place could practically be described as a mansion. Or maybe a fortress? You didn't know which to land on in your exhausted haze.

But you find the gauze- the alcohol for sterilizing your wound, and some band-aids to stick across yourself and hope they're long enough to cover. You stare at his shower as you work, remembering Sylus and the shape of his form under the steam and hot water when you had ransacked his room for the twentieth time in search of that brooch. The band-aids aren't long enough, so you settle for two stuck together across the gauze on your arm and call it a day. Night? You didn't know anymore. You stepped to leave, but the bed in front of you is welcoming, and you know Sylus already knows you're here. Whether he's busy or just ignoring you moving around the safehouse, you don't know. But you do know the plush of his mattress feels like heaven on your brittle knees, and the shape of his pillow molds perfectly against you as you forget any possibility of punishment for sleeping in his bed and dripping blood on his sheets.

Maybe it's how spent you are, or maybe it's his scent filling your senses. But you're asleep within seconds.

And when you're waking up, you're waking up warm. Under the covers unlike before- you shoes have been removed, and your arm has been properly dressed with a wrap bandage and clean gauze. There's some kind of goop on your lip and minor cuts, and you feel so pleasantly warm, you have to fight to keep your eyes open.

The pillow you had fallen into was replaced with the toned bicep of the man whose chest your face was buried into, the arm wrapping to hold you between your shoulders, as his other worked his hand gently through the knots in your hair in between strokes of your head.

You have no idea if he knows you're awake, waiting to see if you'll fall back asleep if he stays silent, or if you'll jump away from him. But you consider the two options in the fog of your mind- just for a moment. Just before you let your eyes shut again, sinking into the feeling of his fingers brushing against your scalp, and the warmth surrounding you.

You could stay like this, just for a little while.

#love and deepspace #.writey #x reader #lads #lds #sylus x reader #lds sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #genuinely i am Not okay #fuck #why did i write this

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biteyoubiteme · 4 months ago

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lemon cake

lemon drop!soobin x angel cake!reader

‧₊˚ ⋅ synopsis In a world where everything is sugary and sweet, it is always fun to throw in a little twist. Quiet and tired Lemon Drop finds himself struggling to keep up with the day to day of single-parent life. Knocking on Angel Cake's door, begging for more than just help, might take care of two of his problems. ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ warnings 🔞!!! fairytale au, lemon drop!soobin, angel cake fem!reader, slight spit kink, spit and cum as flavored aphrodisiacs, not really but chubby reader implied bc angel cakes body is soft and described as cake (skin indents and takes a few seconds to bounce back), mentions of masturbation (f! and m!), hand job, oral (m!rec), virginity loss, breeding kink, corruption kink, biting, cumplay/eating/snowballing, no protection, creampie, prob forgot some sorry

⊹₊ ݁ . wc: 8.9k . ݁₊ ⊹

၄၃ ⸝⸝⸝ now playing: new emotion- the aces an: ive never been so happy to post a fic before! this was so very fun to work on with my moots. im honored to have worked alongside some absolutely incredible writers- actually wild that you let me in on this when you guys are just so amazing im a little dazed lol. and it was so fun to read everyones fics early and go back and forth on little ideas we found would benefit each others works. this was one of the best things to do and im so thankful for mae and her mind,,go read everyone elses fics pls pls pls they are so so good. anyways love my friends <333 [m.list] [strawberry shortcake m.list]

Angel Cake loved a routine. Most things could be broken down into a neat list of checkpoints, a simple to-do list set up like the recipe for a good day. She would get to the store early, prep the tables, and make sure all the clothes were neat enough for when she opened the door. Sometimes a new shipment would come in and she would take her time checking off every box as she added the new items to her inventory. She loved folding all the shirts up, stacking them, lining them all so neatly, and keeping them color-organized.

It wasn't until an hour later that the store officially opened for the day, the sweet buttery scent from the town's shops wafting in through the doors. Angel Cake would sit behind the register looking through catalogs to pick out new things to order, helping customers when they filtered in and lulled around the shop admiring her cute displays. Almost an hour after opening is when her favorite customer arrived. “Strawberry!”

She loved to shop, everything she wore was hand-selected by Angel, perfectly picked out from the catalog with her in mind. Even the pale blue shirt worn by Kai was bought within these four walls. The sweet blueberry boy gave a shy wave, apple dumpling, strawberry’s little sister, running right past the two of them to her favorite section in the store.

“I brought you your share from the bake sale,” the cream-colored box carefully held in hand. It was one of the small things Angel looked forward to, the soft cake and cream, the first bite of sweetness. “They took a little longer than expected to make but they turned out so good,”

Kai flushed a deep shade of blue, the color only highlighted by the blue strands of his hair. Even Strawberry was blushing, her eyes tacking onto apple dumpling to avoid looking at angel cakes questioning glance. “Berry why don't you help Dumpling pick out a new school dress, I see angels gotten some new ones in,”

It was all it took for Kai to follow after the giggling child, leaving Angel and Strawberry alone. “You won't believe the weekend I've had,”

“Was it beomgyu? I hear he went to the market for the first time in a month and acted so bitter over Cherry’s jam,”

“No no nothing like that, I just- berry and I-” If strawberry could get any more color to shade her cheeks she would, her flush traveling to her ears, “We kind of…”

“You kind of what?” Angel Cake had known for years that Blueberry had a crush on Strawberry. They spent most of their time together, strawberry baking and blueberry strumming his guitar. It wasn't news to Angel that either of them had fallen into a relationship without much effort.

“We kissed and then it wasn't kissing it was- well-” she was struggling to find the right words, the images of the night before flashing in her eyes as she stumbled through the words. “It was so much more than kissing, the both of us were just insatiable and he just- he tasted so good,”

“Tasted? Like when you kissed?” Angel tilted her head as if that would tip the right information into the right spot for her to understand. Tasting someone did not necessarily sound all too fun, she could picture the underwhelming flavor of blueberries and didn't find it appealing at all. Angel was never really a fan of how plain they could be, although she would never confess that to Strawberry who couldn't stop herself from remembering the flavor as if it was spilling right back onto her tongue.

“Not exactly-” but it was all Strawberry could say before the two of you turned to the sound of apple dumping giving a shout.

“Meringue!” the little blonde, dimpled-cheeked child, giggling as she ran to meet her friend, exclaiming just as loud, “Dumpling!”

Everyone in all of Strawberry Land knew exactly how close the two little girls were. Spending hours joined at the hip, playing games, singing songs, and laughing enough to fill the sweetest of souls with the happiness shared between the two of them. Most times lemon meringue would find herself sprawled out on the living room floor, coloring with apple dumpling while angel cake and strawberry tested recipes in the kitchen. The two little girls being the best test testers, never afraid to say when they didn't like something.

Most times meringue was over because Blueberry was the perfect babysitter, teaching the girls how to play the guitar, and finding fun ways to keep them entertained. He kept them busy while Lemon Drop, meringue’s dad, was off at the local college teaching. Lemon drop soobin was always a bit bitter, the slight tinge to his personality always brought forward with his obvious sleepiness. His under eyes slightly bruised from the late hours he spent bent over books, grading papers, and chasing after his little sweet tart. Rumpled shirt half untucked from his pants, butter blonde hair mussed, and glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Angel Cake could feel her stomach flutter at the sight, he looked unbelievably warm, the kind of person you wanted to slip into and cuddle up. His lazy blinking eyes tracked around the sweet cream shop, deeply breathing in the sugary air.

Soobin wanted a nap, the warmth of the shop hugging him the second he breached the doorway. It was the favorite shop on the strip, the scent pulling him in amongst the rest of the fruity temptations. Buttery warmth hinted with vanilla cream beckoned him in that direction every time. It was easy to get lost in thought and follow his footsteps right to your door without realizing it when he followed his instincts. With an excuse to step inside, he could settle his craving without shyly backing away from the doorway, tinted pink from the recurring embarrassment of finding the shop irresistible. It was okay when Meringue was with him, but when he was alone, gazing through the sugar glass window to see angel cake folding or hanging clothes, it was a little more awkward.

He wasn't particularly known as the fondest resident in strawberryland. He was known to fight back, the sting of his arguments leaving people with a bitter impression of him. It was something that was expected of the debate professor, teaching the people how to stand up for themselves and find the proper form to an argument.

Angel found him to always cut back the sweetness of the people who took his class, leveling out their need to please in a way that she knew people who didn't take his class found caustic. Working in such a closed shop she heard more than anyone else did in the street market, the stalls so open the voices carried over to one another. No secrets could be kept when the air picked up every sound, enough so that anyone could get burned when gossip traveled. It made her shop the gossip harbor, the walls soaking in the secrets enough so that it set the illusion that nothing would make it to the unknowing subject of conversation.

Just last week she heard the run-around rumor mill turning out stories of frosty puff and gingerbread taehyun. The occasional talk of lemon drop, he's just so sour, listing ways to prove someone wrong. Can't we all just get along and not fight? He must be teaching that poor sweetheart of his such nasty things.

It had made Angel roll her eyes. Who cared if he was giving the rest of Strawberry Land a backbone, it was needed in such a basket of softies. But Angel knew she was in the same boat, still a product of her environment, soobin had moved back after finding himself in a big city amongst the rich and decadent. Nothing like the homegrown bunch he had been born from.

Strawberry pinched angel's arm, her soft flesh dimpling at the draw to attention. It always took a second for Angel's skin to bounce back from a tight hold, easily squashed like the cake from which she was named. “It wasn’t just kissing it was- I don't even know how to describe it, we tasted each other in places I never thought to before,”

“Like where?” it felt absurd to think of putting angel's mouth anywhere besides the mouth of a lover, maybe the back of their hand. Strawberry fiddled with the loose ribbon she used to tie a bow on the shortcake box, tugging the strand until it neatly fell away. Even for her name, Angel had never seen strawberry so pink, from ear to ear as she swallowed. “Down there,” her eyes flickered down to Angel's zipper, popping up just as quickly to see if Angel understood what she was saying.

“Berry!” Angel whisper-shouted, shocked, and intrigued all at once. Angel wasn't too dense, she understood to some extent how it worked but never thought about their being a flavor, or even that your mouth was used for more than just kissing.

“Angel, I don't even know how to describe how good it tasted- better than this,” she held up the short plump cake, the sweet cream swirled on top and donned with a little strawberry heart. “And it's hard to taste any better than this, I mean it's more addictive than sugar,”

It seemed hard to believe, especially when Angel sunk her teeth into the light dessert. The warmth of the sponge still lingers in between the ripples of fresh fruit. The frosting was her favorite part, dotting her upper lip in the clear mark of overindulgence, the creamy whips making her softly moan.

The sound echoed in the shop, just loud enough to be heard under the giggles of the girls, talking out planned outfits to wear to school tomorrow, but it didn't catch Kai’s attention, only catching the ear of lonely Lemon Drop Soobin. He watched the way Angel wiped at her mouth, sucking her thumb clean before rolling her eyes, “Hard to believe,”

“Well, you won't know until you try,” Strawberry muttered, closing the box of sweets and tying the bow back up.

“Ew no, I hate to say it but blueberry is kind of a flavorless fruit-” Angel Cake started looking over to where soobin and Kai stood. Angel stuttered in her speech, cheeks flushed and shoulders straightening under Soobin’s piercing gaze. Strawberry not even noticing the hiccup, “No! Not with Kai, anyone else but him, I mean it, Angel, it was something else,”

Soobin quirked a brow, Angel's cheeks deepening in color. It didn't help that he was looking at her with her train of thought derailing in the direction of a lovely open pool of crisp lemonade. She could just smell the citrusy freshness that followed after him, the scent that made her perfectly aware of how different they were, and forced her to face the recollection that she wanted him in a horribly needy way.

She wondered exactly what he would taste like, obviously lemony, but would he be more sweet or sour? Fresh or bitter? He was the opposite of sweet little blueberry who was now clapping at the choice of dresses the girls had picked out. Lemon drop was a streak of verbena-washed clarity in a town full of half-baked sweet tarts. She wanted him to wash over her and teach her things she never would have known without him, open her pallet to more than just the sweets found in a shop just like Strawberry said. Because as much as she talked down on the people around her, she was just as close to them, still grappling with the niceties of sprouting out in a field of pushovers. But she had time to bake, enough so that she knew she wanted more than just a dollop of sweetness to finish her off. She needed the honesty of someone who would be just as bitter as she was sweet, someone who had left and come back, someone who knew exactly what she wanted and had achieved it themself. Only now all she could think about was what exactly you had to do for a taste of anything at zipper level.

“You know, I heard he's looking for a sitter, especially because Kai is helping me so much at the stand. It's great to have Dumpling around but sometimes following her and meringue is a bit much,” Strawberry added, looking right past soobin to where Blueberry was fussing over apple dumplings shoelaces.

“Really?” soobin had broken eye contact to tend to little lemon meringue, carrying the outfits she's picked out in one arm and pushing back his hair with a ruddy knuckled hand. She watched the two of them like she was memorizing her favorite recipe, taking the time to run over every line, connecting the little bullet point dimples the two of them shared. Even when Strawberry took her bunch with her out the door, leaving the two of them alone at her counter, she couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her features.

“Don't you just love it, angel? It's so bright and pretty and does a perfect twirl when I spin,” meringue is nearly a spitting image of lemon drop, the only difference is her hair doesn't have the classic butter blond but a sun-washed version, the roots starting as a toasted tan color before fading out. But even then it's impossible to say they weren't related. Holding onto the edge of the checkout counter, hand still fluttering over the dress she's picked. Soobin reaches into his back pocket to pull out his wallet, grinning with the edge of his mouth as he watches her look up at Angel with her big brown eyes, dimple so deep in his cheeks she's sure she can swim in it. “It's perfect,” Soobin mutters.

For someone who has been pushed into the bitter pile by the rest of the town, Angel finds it hard to believe someone like the man before her could be anything but comforting. It was in his name, lemon drop, so nostalgic, in and of itself an acquired taste.

“I know you think that but I was asking angel,” meringue scrunched up her nose in that little kid's way, the light dusting of faded freckles tucked into the creases like a bunched blanket.

“I love it, would it even be a good dress without a perfect twirl? It's why I make sure all of the dresses in here look good when you spin,” Angel folds the items neatly sliding them into the gift bag. “Here you go,”

Soobin passes out the exact change, hand brushing angels as he lets the money go, surprised by the warmth radiating off the soft contact. Just as comforting as the alluring scent in the streets he shouldn’t have expected any less. Meringue is elated to be handed her bag giggling to herself as she thanks Angel and her dad. “Next time I see you I hope I can see your perfect twirl and soob- lem-” Angel stumbles over the right name, never really having spoken to him personally besides a few light greetings in passing.

“Soobin is fine,” his grin was a mix of amusement and arrogance that whipped Angel around in a mix of unrelenting jealousy. The ease with which he found himself walking through life was something angel only wished to grasp, and here he was, with confidence written into a single smile.

“Okay, soobin, if you ever need help after five I'm always free to watch her when you need work done. Strawberry was just telling me you could use a hand, "Angel says it so innocently, eyes blinking up to him in a way that he can't think about too closely. It takes everything in him not to look down at the very hand she speaks of, even if it's metaphorically. Because he could use a hand, specifically hers wrapped around him revealing the stress he was feeling in ways that he knew only she would be able to take care of. But it was too much to ask in a place like this, too much to think about when he was in public, and certainly too much when his child was waiting by the door for him to take her to her playdate.

“Thank you I could- um- really use the help,” he didn't know what to do with his hands, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose only for them to slip right back down, hand running through his already messy hair. It was the most angel had ever seen him discomposed, more like a stuttering school boy instead of a college professor who made school boys cower.

“Okay just let me know, you know where you can find me,”

It was only a few days later when soobin came by to ask for Angel's assistance, meringue hot on his heels as he shuffled into the shop right before closing. “I know it's last minute but Kai was supposed to take her to Strawberry’s house but turns out he cant and-”

“It's okay,” Angel chuckled, “I know the two of them have been so finicky with plans recently it's no problem at all. I just need to make sure the doors are locked up and then we can go,” and so they waited while you twisted the key, checking the knob twice, and shuddering from the slight chill in the air. In only a few days, Angel knew the gingerbread cobblestones would be coated in the thin glaze of the first frost, dollops of shoveled snow pushed up against her shop looking like misplaced piles of spilled frosting.

Lemon meringue ran ahead, her ballet flat-covered feet skipping between each stone like a made-up hopscotch map only she could see. Instinctively, Angel walked a step closer to soobin, bumping his arm with every other step they took toward his house at the end of the lane. Angel knew this was one of the reasons why he was accepted more than his other bitter labeled fellows, he lived in town, and went to town meetings even if he didn't add to the majority opinions. If he lived down on the outskirts, house kissing the woods or worse buried deep inside them, he wouldn't have a chance of being accepted in the way that he has been. It gave Meringue the best opportunity to find friends and build a relationship with the community before they ostracized her for being anything but sweet because of the name she carried.

Pushing open the door to their modest place, Angel was surprised by the solace laced into the brown woods and honey-colored accents thrown around the house. Stacks of leather tomes litter tidy shelves, and little dolls, and figurines placed by meringue are known only because of how high each item reaches. It smelled of freshly picked lemons and the cozy baked smell of warmed sugar. It was just late enough for the sun to be setting in through the gauzy curtains, casting the room in a warm golden glow. Angel wasn't to bask in the light, curl up like a kitten on the plush couch, tucked in with the knitted blanket tossed over the back like an invitation.

Meringue shot forward, hand wrapped around Angel's wrist tugging her past the living room and to the overly saturated room that could only belong to a child as happy as her. “Look, angel! I can show you all my princess dresses, we can do a fashion show!” She pushed open a trunk decorated like a little carriage fit to wheel a queen in, the lid holding back all the tulle and silk, only to now spill out like an overstuffed donut.

Soobin chuckled by the doorway, knowing exactly how his daughter was. She would keep Angel entertained enough for the both of them, needing no help to find something to do. It was the only thought in his head until he caught sight of Angel's wrist, his little meringue’s handprint still indented on her soft skin. He watched in amazement the way it slowly rose back into shape like a cake filling the tin in the oven. The thoughts running in his head were nothing to be proud of, images of his hands on the plush of angel tummy driving him mad. He had to turn away, leaving them alone in the room to focus on the stack of papers he had on the edge of his desk to dull the image of his handprint on the crease of her hip, dented into her thigh.

It was hard to get work done as is, his mind always fluttering through the tasks at hand, the next paper to grade, the time to pick up meringue, when he would be able to fit in the time to sleep. Now all he can think about is sweet cream dotting the smooth expanse of buttery cake. He hardly got through the few papers waiting for him, red pen in hand, staining the tips of his fingers as it sat motionless waiting for him to write. Hours passed, the soft laughter and chatting heard through the cracked door, every so often a glimpse of yellow and pink crossed in front of his field of vision, both angel and meringue going from the living room and back.

It made soobin happy to not worry that Meringue was having a good time, sometimes she fell shy especially when not near Apple Dumpling. She even had to warm up to Strawberry, only becoming her bubbly self when she and dumpling were alone, hiding behind her closest advisers in the face of someone new. But Meringue had always wanted to talk to Angel Cake even before they had known her to be best friends with Strawberry. His sweet lemony girl's eyes go wide and glittery seeing the expanse of clothes held in Angel's shop, do you think she gets to try on anything she wants? Look at how cute she dressed Daddy! I wish I had her job.

Every little comment only showed how deeply Meringue wanted to play dress up, more so play with Angel. He's sure even if he had asked for Angel to watch meringue in the shop she would have just as much fun as she was having going around the house now. He loved how comfortable Meringue found herself around Angel, and how Angel accepted his girl with open arms.

Time slipped past soobin without realizing the laughter had faded into hazy silence, more than half his stack of papers cleared through and marked to be returned to waiting students. He ran his fingers under his eyes, glasses set askew from the rubbing, sighing into the empty study. Soobin didn't notice Angel until he smelled her, that wonderfully delicate sweet smell of vanilla sweetness making him hold back his groan. He had thought it had only been the smell of the shop. The cake-like walls were made to pull in customers like the cinnamon scent of a bakery wafting through the streets, beckoning all who breathed in the air. Maybe Angel smelled so delicious because of working all day, the scent rubbing off and sticking to her hair, her clothes, her skin.

“She's fast asleep, knocked out almost as soon as she laid down to read her bedtime book,” Angel leaned against the edge of soobins desk, hip digging into the wood, fingers sprawled over the skewed pages of work. To Soobin, she was a dazzling masterpiece of messy hair and flushed skin, dress short enough for him to see the way the desk was pinching her thigh.

“Thank you,” the words twisted into a whisper from how dry his mouth had gotten just from looking at a single strip of skin. Licking his lips he tried to swallow, finding something to say besides the hollow echo of words he had managed.

“Oh it's nothing really, she's a doll,” Angel's eyes danced over the pages at her hand, “you lived in the city right?” even just the mention had soobins mind going back to the dull colorless house he found himself in when studying for his degree. It made him sick to think about raising meringue in a place like that, she was why he had moved back home, not caring how off-put the rest of the town was about him now.

“Yes, I did,” he sat back in his chair, one elbow still resting on the desk and the other laid out on the armrest. He was half turned to angel, lower because of sitting and now having her tower over him. And her damn thigh was there right next to him, knuckles twitching to brush over the smooth expanse of skin.

“Did you like it?” Angel had tipped her voice down to a whisper, the dim light needing the change when she had decorated the question in enough hope and worry. It wasn't as if Soobin’s answer would change much, she knew she dreamed of a city out there bright enough to blind the thought of home but it was hard to leave when it was all she ever knew, she didn't even know if she truly wanted to leave.

“I liked it enough,” soobin bit at his bottom lip, worrying over the question. It was as honest an answer as he could give. “But it wasn't home, not for me, not for meringue. There is nothing quite like the comfort of home,”

“Like this place you have here,” Angel lifted her chin, looking around the packed study with even more books and bobs. “That couch of yours looks too cozy not to nap on,”

“You should see my bed,” it was a quick response, one that didn't pass the filter connected to the bit of his mouth that kept him from saying anything embarrassing. “I- I didn’t mean it like that-”

But Angel didn't get the innuendo embedded into the words, she just nodded, “I should, I bet it's just as warm as the rest of this place, you have it at just the right temperature,”

The lack of sleep was making him loose, his finger drifting out to press right into the outside of Angel's thigh, pushing against the soft plush of her skin just enough to feel the heat from her, “you sure it's not you? You seem to keep warm enough,”

“Oh no, take it from a cake to know exactly when they walk into the right level of warmth. This is perfectly cozy,”

“You do feel…lively,” soobin drags his finger up Angel's thigh, reaching right to the hem of her dress, stopping right before it could go any further. The line he had drawn was like the roadmap to the realization that he should not be touching her like this. But it was incredibly hard to remember his mind when he felt this hazy; drunk off the lack of sleep and the sweet smell of sugary cake.

Angel felt the pad of his finger slip right up her spine, sink into her nervous system, and cloud her mind. Even if he had pulled away, flexing his hand as if that would sink the feeling of her warm skin into his palm, she could swear the touch was tattooed right there forever now.

She couldn’t forget it, not on the walk home, not when she showered the day away, not even when she climbed into bed. The moonlight slipped in through her lacy curtains, the soft gleam pulling her mind right back to the study. Her finger pressed right where she remembered him, circling the spot like she was tracing the shape of the yellowing moon on her thigh.

Even the moon made her think of him, a little lemon drop in the sky, her bed warm enough to picture what it would be like to snuggle up in his. Her fingers were too soft and not at all how she needed them to be to pick up her illusion. Pressing them harder into her thigh she felt an ache between her legs, centered right at the heart of her.

Angel had never felt such a pull to touch herself, not until the butter blonde boy was there just out of reach, so close to palming her thigh instead of just using the tip of his fingers. She wanted his hands all over her, they didn't even need to be warm, she just needed him. Needed his finger pressed on the tormentor's bud that called for him. But for now, she would have to make do, her hand pushed into her shorts feeling along the wet seam of herself never knowing that her body would crave someone so bad without even having tasted them like strawberry had said.

But the only thing on her mind was lemon drop, her hips rolling into her hand, the soft moans drawn out from a mouth so unfamiliar with this sound. Her body told her the way to move, and where to seek peak pleasure until she was a gasping mess, creaming around her dainty digits. Angel Cakes' new discovery was a calamity, highlighting a deep desire she didn't know she could hold within herself. A catastrophe; soobin had been the one to knock a tray of glasses to the floor, already so recklessly close to the edge until one push sent them shattering, angel couldn't clean the glass fast enough, left to never be the same again.

Soobin was no better, he was a cracked vase slowly leaking out in drips of sun-melted ice, he had to hold it together for work, for home; hastily wrapping fingers around the seeping seams only for his thoughts to pour out between his fingers. Because angel cake was spinning in his living room, twirling around with his daughter, giggling until they were a dizzy pile on the floor. His office door just cracked as he caught sight of angels' sweet lacy white panties, clinging to the curve of her ass. If he had knocked over the tray of her sanity, angel cake had taken a hammer to his fragile vase, smashed it until it was powered, and easily passed as dusting sugar on the treats in strawberry’s shop.

Soobin felt his addiction take its toll on him, every night the image of angel cake washed over his sleeping mind until he was reduced to nothing but a needy muddled mess of thruming joints. He couldn't go one day without his hand wrapped around his cock, working his wrist until he was spilling dribbles of cum onto sheets that needed her in them. It was worse when his order from strawberry came in, Kai handing the box over right at the doorway, picking up Meringue for her sleepover with Dumpling. The smell of the shortcake filled the house as soon as he shut the door behind them.

He was embarrassed to have such an obsession with angel cake, sure that she would cringe away from his desperation for her. So desperate he was standing in the kitchen with one hand down his pants and the other digging into the soft sponge of one of the cakes just brought over. The cream and crumb squished out between his fingers as he came, moaning into the empty space until the sound reverberated around him, the smell of her dancing around his body. He wanted her, needed her.

Soobin didn’t even remember the trip to Angel's shop's door, his nose pulling him along the crumb-dotted cobblestone, leading him right to the front doors, so willing to be eaten by the magic-laced girl inside. He could see her through the frosted glass windows, the closed sign turned to signal the end of her shift but she was leaning over the stand of shirts, fixing them in the way she wanted, her end-of-day routine. He could smell her, that buttery sweetness addicting, making him delirious. He wanted to sink his hands into her warm flesh, hold her tight enough so that if anyone saw they would know it was his hands that had been on her, that she was his, and his alone.

He pushed open the unlocked door, the ding of the bell signaling his entrance, that glance over her shoulder ruining him once and for all. “Hi! Did I forget I was supposed to come over tonight? I can pack up real quick or she can stay here-”

“No, blueberry took her- i- i-” he was struggling with the words, a stuttering fool standing in the middle of the shop like he'd come to beg. And he had, he would beg her till the end of his days to have one taste, to have her tear into him like she was peeling back the layers of his sanity. “I need you,”

“Oh?” she tilted her head to the side, the pure look of innocence smashing into him like a wave. He wanted to stain her, fill her up, and call her his.

Soobin struggled to swallow, every breath filling his lungs with her, she was right there on the tip of his tongue. “I need you,” his hand reached down to the bulge sitting against his thigh, hard, thick, and weeping for her.

If Angel Cake hadn't spoken to Strawberry about the zipper-level kisses she would have been confused beyond belief. But it had been all she could think of since then, what it would be like to lick up his body and know exactly what it was that made people so addicted. Because she was grappling with the fact that she was already falling down the rabbit hole of need, to finally taste him would be like crashing right into another world. “I don't know- I don't know how-” she was flushed all over from the confession because she didn't want him to leave, if he needed her she would mold herself to fit and fix any problem he had. Her lack of knowledge wouldn't hold her back, if he was a teacher she would be his best student.

“I'll show you, tell you everything you need to know,” he snapped the button on his pants, undoing the zipper releasing enough pressure to let out the most sinful noise angel had ever heard. She could feel her panties flooded with the cream that had been leaking from her for days now, always tied to the thought of him. If he felt even a fraction of how she did, Angel would make sure to take the best care of him.

“O-okay,” Angel Cake could feel her mouth water, her thighs pulling together, needing them closer to relieve the ache she felt. Soobin locked the door behind him, tugging Angel to a spot behind a rack of clothes. “Here get on your knees in front of me,”

Angel was fast to listen, sinking to the ground in front of him, hands placed neatly on the tops of her thighs, looking up at soobin with those wanting eyes. Just thinking about those plush lips warping around his cock was taking him out, and watching the tip of her tongue wet her mouth was excruciating. Soobin reached into his pants, pulling out his veiny shaft, the sheer size making Angel's eyes widen.

She didn't know what she was expecting but she was not expecting to feel empty at the sight. The top of him was shiny with a layer of leaking pre-cum. Soobin ran his thumb across his slit collecting the wetness to swirl around the tip, moaning at the way Angel's mouth fell open without realizing. “You can touch it,” he nodded, watching how Angel was gripping her skirt, crinkling the fabric trying to hold herself back.

Angel lifted a shaking hand, fingers brushing the side of him, amazed at the softness so much that she wrapped her hand around him and gave a tug. Soobins chest rumbled, his hand reaching out for the rack next to him, the hangers clattering from the force of his grip. “Sorry-”

“No, no you're doing good, just like that, slow and easy,” he nodded, biting back his moan when her wrist flicked again, “you can squeeze a little harder,” he whispered, his free hand finding itself around hers, showing her just the right amount of pressure he was looking for. Soobin's hand guided Angel's until he was using her hold as if it was his own, speeding up the pace.

Angel watches in amazement as soobins head rolls back, his brows pinched as he whimpers. She's never wanted to taste something or someone so bad, and now, with him right in front of her, she can't resist the temptation for what it is. Angel sits up just enough so that she can press a sweet kiss to his tip, a string of pre-cum still connecting her lips to him. Soobin lets out a shocked gasp, watching the way she licks her lips clean.

The taste is subtle, the sweet and sour mixed together only to draw Angel back in for more. She didn't even know what she was doing, compelled by the flavor to envelop him fully, the flat of her tongue licked up and around to collect more of the addictive fluid. Soobin’s knees go weak at the warmth of her mouth, hips jerking to try to chase the feeling, “Oh fuck just like that,” his hand still holding hers, working over the rest that wasn't pressed into her mouth.

Angel cake moaned around him, his bitter lemon taste mixing with the sweetness from his pre-cum. She wanted to swallow him whole, take more of him down. Soobin couldn't even think anymore, Angel's mouth trying to work further down, her hand stopping right at his base. Angel hollows her cheeks, sucking him down like its instinct, soobins groan taking over the silence and joining the soft wet noises. Soobins restraint breaks, overwhelmed by the way her mouth molds to his cock so perfectly, his mind working to imagine it's her waiting cunt. She takes him down so deep he can feel the back of her throat. It's enough for him to wrap his hands into her hair, fingers wrapping softly around her skull as he fucks into her mouth without warning. Angel moans, the vibrations going straight up his cock and making his balls clench. Her hands reach out for his thighs to keep herself steady, tears welling in her eyes, loving the newfound sensation.

Angel Cake doesn't know what to expect, lashes fluttering as he loses himself in the feel of her. It's a shock when his thrusts become erratic, his body trembling with a deep groan, sweet lemon cream spilling on her waiting tongue. Angel tries to swallow, unable because he keeps going, fucking his cum right into her still willing mouth, spurt after spurt following until he has to pull away. Angel gasps, sucking in gulps of air, mouth a mess of dripping lemon custard and saliva.

If she had thought the pre-cum had been addicting, she didn't know the effect the real deal would have on her. Blindly, she wiped the corner of her mouth, licking the cream she'd collected, humming as if she'd just taken a bite of the richest lemon bar. The sight and sound made soobin impossibly more obsessed with her, fingers going down her cheek, pulling her attention to his awestruck expression.

His head was clearing but it didn't stop the infection of her as it slipped well past his mind, into his bones, into his soul. He had heard about how easy it was to save a fruit tree if you cut away the rot fast enough; right at first sight. Angel cake had taken hold of every thorny branch on his tree and twisted herself in the sparse foliage, so deeply intertwined now that he wasn't sure there was ever a time when it would have been an easy snip to rid himself of this fever.

Angel Cake's face was a glistening mess of wetness when he squished her cheeks with one large hand, her pouting lips so kissable and pink. “Look at you,” a surrealistic sigh caught on the edge of his tone. He leaned down, needing a taste of the two of them, the perfect combination of bitter and sweet, angel's sugary spit mixed with his lemony custard making him powerless. And when he pulled away, letting go of angel's cheeks, he watched the way her lips stayed puffy, the illusion of dimples still there as her skin rose back, flushed a petal pink. “Did I do good?”

“You did perfect,” soobin brushes his nose along the bridge of hers, his eyes closing, breathing her in. He wanted to tear into her, squish his fingers into her, and memorize every little action that brought out a sound. But in his post orgasm clarity, he noticed exactly what he had done. He had tainted this perfect angel, filled her with more than just bad ideas but had fully gone in and let his uncontrollable emotions take over.

Even when Angel Cake had gotten home later that night, she couldn't stop licking her lips. She was lying in bed, wriggling in the sheets trying and failing to find a comfortable position let alone sleep. Her hand was stuck between her legs, on the verge of tears for nothing working to cave in a hunger that she was only now painfully aware of. She hated that she was alone, hated it more than she knew the feeling of his hands on her, knew that those long fingers would have been perfect to fix her problem as easily as she had fixed his.

The hunger triggered a compulsion within her similar to the one soobin experienced on his walk to Angel’s shop, her feet carrying her through the streets, half-dressed in her silky lace pajamas. The lemon drop moon cast its path down the cobblestone to Soobin’s front door. The cold unfelt against Angel's warm skin, and when soobin opened the door he could see the steam rising off of her heated body. The haze of it mixed with the backlight of the moon made her look like a true angel waiting right at his front step, outlined in the glow. She hasn't even come in shoes, her thick socks slouched around her ankles, her shorts pinched at her waist, and one tank top strap down her shoulder. He could see her pebbled nipples through the thin material, his lips pursing at the thought of wrapping around them. “Angel?”

He couldn't tell if this was one of his dreams, the kind that left him reaching out in a bed she never saw. “I think I need you now,” she couldn’t find it in herself to be embarrassed by the words, not when she had seen him in the same state, begging and just as needy. Soobin rushed to pull her inside, ready to get her wrapped up in something to keep her from freezing if that was possible for someone so warm. He hardly had the door closed when she was pulling him closer to her, wrapping her arms around his neck, tugging him into her space. She needed to have him in her mouth again and soobin knew he wasn't going to turn her away. His hands slid down her back, fingers digging into the soft skin, groaning into her sugar-sweet mouth, the sound catching in the back of her throat, and she swallowed it down greedily.

Angel didn't know what to do with her hands, her mind shutting off and following their natural way, slipping into his hair, the strands tangling between her fingers, his lemony sweet kisses taking over her mind as he slowly kissed her. But Angel was impatient, whining and rubbing her thighs together.

“What is it baby? Tell me,” he kissed down her jaw, intoxicated by the smell of her, so much stronger when she was so hot against him.

Angel reached down for one of his hands, guiding it like he had done for her, pushing his fingers until they slipped right against the silk of her shorts, “it's so achy,” she whimpered, “and all I can do is think about you,”

She was like a freshly wrapped gift left on the front step, the label perfectly signed with his name and his name alone. A sinful treat he couldn't wait to sink his teeth into. He dragged his fingers along the seam of her, the silk already spotted with wetness, “you want me to take care of you?” the husk of his voice was thick in her ear like syrup.

“Please- please,” her nods are erratic, hips rolling trying to keep him right against her tender clit. Her pathetic cry echoes in the living room when he pulls his hand away. But he doesn't keep his hands away for long, dragging her to his room, having her fall to his bed, right where he's wanted her. Her knees fall open, the heels of her feet digging into the mattress. She's a vision of her namesake, mewling when soobin hooks his fingers into her waistband and takes down her panties and shorts, sliding them down her legs and peeling her socks off, leaving her bottom half exposed.

Soobin is caught at the sight of her gleaming cunt, leaking arousal the color of royal icing, creamy and sweet, looking as if she had been stuffed full of him already. Nothing could keep him from getting a taste. He fell to his knees like this was a place to beg for forgiveness. But he wouldn't be sorry, not after he started his feast. Soobin licked a bold stripe up from her entrance to clit, groan ripped from him with only one drop of her. He wrapped his arms under her legs, holding her open and watching how his fingers dented her flesh, the plush of her spilling between fingers itching to stay there and mold her as his forever.

Angel let out a sharp gasp the second his mouth was attached to her aching center, thighs trying to snap shut around his head, held in place and forced open as she arched her back. Her fingers twisted in the sheets, her breathing only coming out when she slipped out moans. He was devouring her, licking her clean like he was enjoying the frosting before the cupcake, sucking deeply on her clit just to watch her tremble.

Soobin does not care about the mess he's making of her, face dripping with his Angel's cream, moans of delight vibrating against her puffy clit. He doesn’t even notice the way she's writhing beneath him, only that he's now faced with the most delicious meal he has ever had. Moaning into her, slurping up all that she has to offer trying to pull forth more of her sweet cream. And he didn't have to try hard, not when she needed him so bad already, the bubbling building in her lower belly so newfound and yet never before so intense. Angel cake feels like a balloon ready to pop, one deep long suck on her clit has her seeing stars, her orgasm washing over her as swiftly as a needle prick, causing her to come undone. The gush of her arousal keeps Soobin’s mouth right against her, his persistent licks only pulling him in more.

He was a desperate mess, working away at his pants, rutting into the mattress as if that would curb his insatiable hunger. He needed to be inside of her, filling her up with his lemon custard, fucking her senseless until she was begging to stay right here in his bed and never leave. He wanted that, to keep her as his, not just press his hand into her thigh and leave that lasting mark. No, he needed to claim her as his in the best, most lasting way. “Do you want me inside you Angel?” he pressed the flat of his palm into her pelvis, relishing in the way he felt himself sinking into her skin. “Right here, filling you up, making you mine-”

Angel had never felt so empty, not until he pointed it out, solving a problem she never thought she had. Her mewling response was a mix of pleas and whimpers. She didn't care what he did so long as she could have him near, and if he could fix the burn in her belly he could devour her just as well as tear her apart.

Soobin lifted Angel's legs enough so that the backs of her knees were slotted against his inner elbows, one hand reaching down to guide his dripping cock to her waiting entrance. Angel does not expect the pressure of being pushed into, her gasp caught on a half-open mouth of pure bliss. Every slow tantalizing inch stretches her out, her body instinctively clenching around him trying to suck him in. “Relax, baby,” he whispers, his hand sliding up her stomach, up under her tank top to reveal her breasts. He rubs at her skin, soothing her tense muscles until he's sunk all the way into the hilt, her body melting and molding around his.

Soobin waits, catching himself from letting go, letting their bodies adjust to each other. But Angel is impatient, rolling her hips, not even realizing she's trying to fuck back onto him, only that she needs some kind of friction. But soobin is slow to pull out and even slower to push back in, eyes connected to the spot they meet at. Her body was like clay beneath him, so easily shaped into the perfect temptation. Every drag in and out coated his cock in her cream, mesmerizing him, numbing his brain.

Angel could tell the difference in him, that split second that makes his eyes go hazy, hips snapping into hers making her body ripple from the force. “you were fucking made for me- do you feel how deep I am-“ he’s slamming into her, the lude sounds of their wetness mixing; echoing with their moans. All the veins in his hands straining from the hold on her soft sides.

He was pressed so deep into her she could feel him hitting a spot that made her hips sink, her hands reaching out to hold his hands, needing the comfort not knowing what was building inside her. so much more intense than when it’s her fingers or even just his mouth. “soobin im-im-“ she can’t even find the words looking for something that she didn’t know existed until just now.

“we can cum together- I’ll fill you up make sure to pump you full so you know exactly where I'm going to put our baby,” he moves his hand down to press his thumb to her clit, triggering her to jolt, the walls of her pulsing around him before she’s falling apart.

Angel's body is a tightening mess, her back arching, cheeks flushing as she comes undone for him. The pull of her body to his makes him shudder, his whole body falling against hers needing to be close, needing to smell the vanilla sweetness of her skin, sinking his teeth into her shoulder as he holds back his strangled moans. Slow languid thrusts push his lemon custard cum back into her, needing to make true to his promise to have her full of him and only him. Needing to mix together their cream for the perfect bake.

Neither of them knows what's happened to them, only that they are a tangle of limbs, wrapped up tight enough that Angel can still feel the pulse of his cock deep inside her, still pumping into her never having cum so much in his life before then.

Angel feels boneless when he pulls away, her whimper making him chuckle. “I just need to see your creamy pussy again,” the sight to behold better than before now that he knows the wetness is more his than hers. His fingers dragged through her sensitive cunt, collecting the mess to shove it back Into her, fucking her on his fingers for a second. He lifts his fingers in front of them showing Angel the sheer amount of cream coating the digits. “If I could bottle this flavor I would,” he licks them clean before leaning over to shove his tongue into her mouth, needing her to taste what he’s found as his new obsession.

Angel swallows down the cum, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer, twisting legs and burrowing in closer. “you taste sweeter than I thought you would,”

“Did the thought of it keep you up?” he asks, nose brushing along the column of angel's throat. “because thinking of you while being alone in this bed is hell, I need both of my girls under my roof to feel complete,”

“both…” the sound of the word was heavy in her mouth. Not in an uncomfortable way but in a way a piece of chocolate sat on her tongue, melting and sweet, craving to place another one as soon as it was gone.

“Both.” The finality of the word is better than the buttery sheets he’s pressing her right back Into.

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @no1likemybbgcharlie @chasingthatjjunie want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! thank you so much @izzyy-stuff for helping edit this for me ily ily ily @thetxtdevil and @beomiracles for betareading this a bit, but special special thank you for mae who gave me a lot of these ideas in the first place, her perfect mind came up with the cake like reader with indenting skin and helped with the conversation with strawberry and angel <3

#soobin x reader #soobin smut #txt x reader #txt smut #choi soobin x reader #soobin hard hours #soobin hard thoughts #soobin txt #txt soobin #yeonjun #beomgyu #taehyun #huening kai

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x-brik-x · 2 years ago

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I'm seeing a lot of people say that punk fashion is expensive and inaccessible, which is very wrong. here is a list of some ways you can make punk fashion easier, cheaper and more accessible for you, since that's... kinda the whole point.

others are encouraged to add onto this!! (just don't recommend corporations like amazon. not cool.)

1. patches!! you don't need to buy them. DIY patches are not ugly or boring. in fact, they are encouraged here!! DIY, in my opinion, is always the best thing to do when it is an option and is safe to do so.

2. speaking of DIY, spikes!! you can make them!!

cut the top and bottom off of an empty can. cut down the middle of the cylinder and flatten it, so it's just a flat rectangle of metal.

cut out a shape that is kind of a third of a circle, but around 3/4 of the curved edge is taken up by triangle shapes. (I'm not very good at describing, so here's a badly drawn picture)

roll it into a cone, leaving the 4 triangles sticking out at the bottom. this bit is optional, but you can fill it with hot glue to make it more sturdy, just be careful touching the hot metal. I tend to hold the cone by one of the triangles with a bit of fabric wrapped around my fingers for this bit. cut 4 small holes in your fabric in this kind of shape:

and put the spiky bits of triangle through the holes. fold the triangles in on themselves to secure the spike in place. boom. spike obtained. this is one I made and attached to a little piece of fabric to test this method out:

3. battle vests!! (like the base jackets). the best places to buy these are charity shops and second hand websites in my opinion, but if anyone else knows any better options, please reblog with those!!

a good trick I find works well on eBay is to filter search results to your country (or state? can you do that in the US? idk) so that a: fast delivery because local, and b: all the sellers of everything that shows up are in YOUR TIME ZONE.

why is this important? when people sell something for really cheap, it goes FAST. check eBay at like, 2am or something. all the scalpers in your area are asleep. grab the cheap stuff while they can't.

4. sewing!! want patches, but can't sew for whatever reason? I've heard of a lot of people with joint conditions like arthritis complain about the inaccessibility of patch stuff, and that does sound extremely annoying, however:

safety pins!! while they are still a little fiddly, they're much less work so you don't have to fiddle about for long. if you can, you could even ask a friend to help, since it doesn't take long at all I'm sure someone will be willing to help out!! (I know I would, but that's just me, and I love this kind of thing). safety pins on clothes are also widely considered to be a symbol of solidarity, so if anything, you're adding some extra love and meaning to your patch pants/battle jacket.

if that's still too fiddly, fabric glue is always an option. unfortunately this means you won't be able to remove/reposition patches, at least without leaving a massive patch of residue, but if you're ok with that then fabric glue is probably your best bet.

for people who prefer sewing: as for where to get the thread, I've heard a lot of people recommending dental floss, as it's apparently much cheaper and works just as well. I haven't tried this myself so can't confirm that, but I thought I'd share it regardless.

5. where to get fabric!! old clothes. rip em up. you don't need any kind of fancy fabric from the craft store. my patches are made of old jeans that I grew out of.

don't have any old clothes and you don't want to waste any good ones? I'm not sure about other countries, but in the UK, as long as you're not on private property (trespassing), dumpster diving is perfectly legal.

I definitely ;) do NOT encourage ;) trespassing rich people's land ;) to steal from their dumpsters ;)

or tbh it doesn't matter too much how rich the person is, since it's all going to landfill anyway. if it's in the bin, it's free game, but you didn't hear that from me. ;)

please add onto this where you can!! and if I missed something or got anything wrong, add that on too!!

#diy punk #patch jacket #battle vest #patch vest #punk vest #diy patches #punk battle jacket #battle jacket #punk patches #patch pants

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requiemforthepoets · 4 months ago

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to be in it with you ⟢ OP81

PAIRING: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: as you watch oscar play happily with his nieces and nephews, you’re struck by the overwhelming love you feel for him—deeper than you’ve ever known.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: use of y/n, named side character (brother), fluff, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have an oscar request lined up from last year, and somehow i’m at 40%-ish of completing it. so i’ll dedicate this oscar one shot that i drafted long ago to my ‘osc anon’ who had sent in the request as a compensation for not finishing yet their request 🥹 so i hope you guys will like this one too!

It was a perfect summer afternoon in Australia. The sun shone warmly over the sprawling and perfectly manicured backyard, the sound of laughter and chatter floating through the air as Oscar’s family gathered for the reunion. You sat comfortably in a lawn chair, a cool drink in your hand, condensation dripping down the side of the glass, and a soft smile that played on your lips as you watched Oscar from afar. He was in the middle of the yard, playing tag with his nieces and nephews, their high-pitched giggles filling the spaces as Oscar chased them with exaggerated slowness, his long strides deliberately clumsy.

Oscar was radiant under the sun, his easy laughter blending with the children’s laughter, his cheeks flushed from the activity. His hair, slightly damp from exertion, curled at the edges, and he ran a hand through it as he crouched low to let one of the toddlers ‘tag’ him. The sight tugged at your chest, making your heart swell almost painfully.

It hit you then, not for the first time, but in a way that felt newly profound. You love him. You love him so much that it terrifies you. You never knew that it’s possible to love someone so much. The thought was overwhelming, almost suffocating in its intensity. No one had ever made you feel like this before. The relationships that you had in the past now seemed pale and faded photographs in comparison, distant and dull compared to the vibrant, all-encompassing connection you had with Oscar.

You took a slow sip of your drink, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you, but your gaze remained fixed on him. You loved everything about Oscar—the way he interacted so effortlessly with his family, how he was patient, gentle, and kind with the children, how his face lit up with genuine happiness when they pulled him into their little games. He was a mosaic of everything you had ever dreamed of, and yet, somehow more.

With these realizations came a series of flashbacks. You and Oscar go way back, though ‘knowing’ him would be a generous way to describe it. Growing up, you were never more than acquaintances in passing, brought into each other’s orbit because of your older brother, Asher. Asher and Oscar had bonded over karting, spending weekends at the track, their friendship was fueled by shared victories, losses, and countless hours tinkering with karts.

You were always on the sidelines, quieter than most, mostly content to sit with a book or scroll through your phone while Asher raced. Occasionally, your eyes would drift to Oscar—not intentionally at first, but there was something about him that always caught your attention. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, calm and focused, even at such a young age. Or perhaps, it was the easy smile he wore after a win, the way it lit up his whole face. You didn’t actually know when or why it started, but somewhere along the way, you realized you had feelings for him.

It was not a revelation that struck you like lightning. No, it crept up on you, quiet and persistent, until one day, as you unpacked your bag after another weekend spent at a karting competition, you paused, clutching a book in your hands. You loved him. Or, at least, you thought you did. It was kind of innocent, unspoken affection that felt too big to put into words.

But Oscar never knew. You barely spoke to him back then, except for the occasional polite exchange of ‘hi’ or ‘good luck.’ You were not shy by nature, but there’s something about him that always left you tongue-tied. So, when he moved up to F3 and you moved out of Australia to chase your own career abroad, that chapter in your life pretty much quietly closed.

Years passed after that. You had kept tabs on him sporadically, mostly through Asher, who remained in touch with Oscar even after leaving karting behind. When Oscar finally made it to F1, you learned about it through your brother, who called you, his voice buzzing with pride. Though you hadn’t seen Oscar in years, the news stirred something in you—a quiet, enduring happiness for him.

Then, it was months later, on an otherwise unremarkable evening, that your phone rang with a call from an unfamiliar number. You hesitated, your finger hovering over the screen before you finally answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, uh, is this…y/n?” the voice was hesitant but familiar, a thread of nervousness woven through the words.

“Yes, it is. Who’s this, may I ask?”

There was a brief pause, then, “it’s Oscar. Oscar Piastri.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned into silence. “Oh. Hi. Um…hello, Oscar.”

Oscar’s laugh was soft, almost sheepish. “Sorry, this is kind of random, isn’t it? I wasn’t sure if you’d even remember me.”

“Of course I remember you,” you said quickly—too quickly for your liking, your heart thudding in your chest. “I just…wasn’t really expecting this, that’s all. How did you even get my number?”

“Well, apparently our mums kept in touch all these years,” he explained, tone a little lighter now. “My mum mentioned that she saw you back in Australia not too long ago, and she told me about it. She, uh, also gave me your number.”

You were not sure what to say to that. “Oh,” you managed. “I didn’t know they still talked.”

“Neither did I,” Oscar admitted, you could hear the smile in his voice. “But when she mentioned you, I figured I’d…I don’t know, take a chance? I mean we never really got to know each other back then, did we?”

“No, we didn’t,” you agreed softly, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the nervous flutter in your chest.

“I always thought you were kind of…quiet,” he said, voice teasing but kind. “Like you didn’t really want to be there, but you came anyway because of Asher.”

You laughed, the sound surprising even you. “That’s pretty accurate, actually. I was there for him, but it wasn’t so bad, I liked watching you race.”

“Really?” Oscar sounded genuinely surprised.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “You were good. You still are.”

“Thanks,” he said, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, though it felt like the space between breaths, waiting to be filled.

“So,” he said finally, tone shifting to something more tentative. “Would you…want to catch up sometime? I know it’s been years, but I’d really like to get to know you properly. No more awkward hi-and-hellos this time.”

Your heart leapt at the offer, but you kept your voice steady. “Yes, I’d like that,” you said. “I’d really like that.”

“Great,” Oscar said, and you could hear the smile in his voice again. “I’ll text you, then. We’ll figure something out.”

“Okay,” you said softly, your fingers tightening around the phone.

“Okay,” he echoed.

After that whole conversation with Oscar, for the first time, you realized that maybe, you were not the only one that has been waiting for this moment.

The memory had you smiling crazy, failing to notice how Oscar glanced your way, a smile spreading across his face when he caught you staring and smiling. He stood, brushing the grass off his hands, and made his way over to you, his pace was unhurried but purposeful.

“Having fun watching me make a fool of myself?” he teased, voice warm and tinged with amusement as he dropped into the chair beside you.

You chuckled softly, setting your drink on the small table next to you. “Not at all. You’re doing amazing out there,” you replied, tone playful but sincere.

Oscar leaned back in the chair, his hand quickly finding yours without hesitation, his thumb tracing idle patterns on your skin. “You looked like you were in deep thought,” he said for a moment, his eyes searching for yours. “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated, not because you did not want to tell him, but because you were not sure how to articulate the depth of what you were feeling. But after a beat, you decided to just let the words flow freely.

“I was just thinking about how much I love you,” you admitted, voice quiet but steady. “And how no one’s ever made me feel the way you do. It’s like I don’t even have the right words for it.”

Oscar’s expression softened, and he squeezed your hand gently. “You don’t have to find the right words,” he said, tone earnest. “I feel it. Every time you look at me, every time you smile like that, I feel it.”

Your chest tightened, and you swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat. “It’s just that sometimes it feels like too much, you know? Like, I want to memorize everything about you—how you speak, move, even how you laugh. I want to soak up every part of you and carry it with me forever.”

He let out a quiet laugh, his thumb still brushing over your hand. “You make it sound like I’m some kind of masterpiece,” he said, tone light but his gaze were serious.

“It’s because you are,” you replied without hesitation, voice unwavering. “You are to me.”

For a moment, Oscar did not say anything, he just looked at you with an intensity that made your heart race. Then he leaned closer, his free hand coming up to cup your face, his touch gentle but grounding.

“You have no idea how much I love you, do you?” he murmured.

“I think I might have some idea,” you whispered back, lips curving into a smile.

Oscar leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back to meet your gaze. “Good,” he said, voice low and filled with affection. “Because I’m all in with you. Every part of me, every day.”

Your chest felt like it might burst anytime soon from the sheer magnitude of what you felt for him. “Me too,” you whispered, voice trembling slightly. “I’m all in with you, Oscar. Always.”

Everything had also made you realize that you didn’t need the perfect words or grand gestures. Being with Oscar, loving him as deeply as you did, was more than enough.

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demonic0angel · 4 months ago

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One of the Phantoms walk through the walls of Wayne Manor. They immediately get weirded out by the number of hidden guns of various kinds hidden everywhere. (Alfred was not kidding when he told Bruce he'd never find them all...)

Dan stared at a bazooka stuck in between the vents. “Wow,” he said. There were no other words he could think of to describe his disbelief and awe at the way such a weapon was so perfectly hidden in a tiny vent.

Dani groaned. “Can we please go? Why do we have to be here anyways? Please? Can we go?”

Danny was also pausing in place, staring at a rifle that was hidden in a tiny compartment in the wall. “We have to be here to give the shovel talk to your new boo, remember? Damn, how many weapons do you think are hidden in the walls?” He turned to address Dan at the last part.

Dan gave him a disgusted sneer, but after a moment, responded, “Probably a lot. This is only one room but I already see 9 weapons.”

Danny floated through the walls again, doing a little perimeter check before he came back, eyes wide. “You’re right. I looked into the other rooms and there are even more hidden! Who do you think hid them? Can’t be one of the kids, right?”

Dani whined. “Guys!” She tugged on Dan’s cape but he steadfastly ignored her.

“I think it’s that big one. Dick’s dad. Bryce or whatever.”

“You know that his name is Bruce, don’t pretend not to just because you hate him. And I heard from Jason that he hates guns, which is why he uses them,” Danny said, reaching over to restrain their wayward and complaining little sister. She bit down on him viciously but he didn’t care as he and Dan chatted.

“Well, it’s obviously not Dick,” Dan huffed. He tapped his chin. “Do you think it’s Damian? That’d be quite funny.”

They both snorted at the idea of the littlest Wayne hiding bazookas in vents. “It would only make sense if it’s Jason, isn’t it?”

“Actually,” a voice interrupted, drawing back their attention, “it was me.”

The three ghosts turned and stared at the butler, who looked unimpressed. He folded his arms in front of him and then asked, “May I inquire as to why you three are haunting this manor? Or shall I see if my guns work on ghosts too?”

There was silence.

Then Dani growled lightly and hissed, “This is your fault!”

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom x dc #dp x dc crossover #ask #danny fenton #anon ask #dani fenton #dani phantom #dan phantom #dark danny #alfred pennyworth #dan fenton #phantom family #danielle fenton #danielle phantom #ty for the ask!

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knavesflames · 6 months ago

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𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝑒𝓍 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓇𝓁𝑒𝒸𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑜

hello friends, I have arrived. As per the poll, shower sex was first. I had trouble figuring out how to do this but settled on this. I hope you enjoy! (it’s supposed to snow on monday, god save me) (i always end my fics with humour why)

Word count: 2.1k

Contents: shower, tired arlecchino, fingering, it’s soft they love each other fr

nsft utc!

Arlecchino’s favourite thing to do after a long day of dealing with incompetent Fatui grunts is come home and see you. You greet her the same way each time, greeting her with a soft hum, waiting for her to appear in your vision. She appreciates that you give her space to at least take her blazer off. She does it hastily, the garment often being left on the floor by the doormat to be picked up by her on the way to bed later that night. You always seem to be cooking when she comes home, something you have learned to time perfectly— you know she gets hungry when she comes home, and you know she’ll only forget to eat. Each time she moves to the kitchen to wrap her arms around you, a soft sigh leaves her lips, her own subtle way of smelling what she can only describe as pure domesticity.

Arlecchino’s job requires her to be many things. Ruthless, unfeeling, violent, even. When her hands graze your waist, you feel none of that. The hands belong to a woman full of love, even if she cannot express it. You do things for her that no other person would. When you share a meal, for example, you leave any spices out of it (to her satisfaction, much to your own dismay), until the end, after you’ve plated whatever food it is and placed it on the table. It takes more time, but the small flicker of gratitude in her eyes when she sees the colour difference, or smells the difference of the two dishes, warms your heart.

Your eyes inspect her as she eats. Expressionless as she is, she isn’t very good at hiding her feelings. Not with you, anyway. “What’s the matter?” Your quiet voice comes out as a sort of hum as you glance up at her. You watch her hand slows, the metal of the fork reflecting the ceiling light.

“I am tired. Clearly, nobody in this organisation can do their jobs. I do not understand how we are to revive the—“ She cuts herself off before she says anything else. You know well enough that she doesn’t talk about work at home. You do not ask her to. You watch as her hand comes up to release her hair from her signature ponytail, a smile making its way to your face when her snowy strands cascade down her shoulders, disappearing behind her back. When her hair is down, she looks almost soft. Kind. You know, deep down, buried under the facade of strictness (that you beg her to stop applying to herself— she never listens), she is a woman full of love. You know that much because even during nights where her nails are biting into the skin of your thighs, or your hips, or even on occasion, your neck as she draws sound after sound out of you, the other hand is always caressing some part of you, her eyes always full of tenderness.

You remember one of the first times you had sex with her— it was the first time you had attended one of those stupid Fatui balls with her. You had let her pick out the outfit herself, and she enjoyed herself thoroughly. You had barely gotten into your apartment before she had picked you up and laid you softly on the bed sheets, grumbling about how you never made your bed. You were still figuring each other out— what worked, and what didn’t. Midway through, when you weren’t thinking, you whispered. “Degrade me.” Your eyes moved to look into her own, only to be met with an immediate frown. “I will not. How could I ever say such things about you?” You tried to explain, perhaps wondering if she was unaware of what it truly was. She did know, she couldn’t fathom saying a bad word to you, even in such a situation. You learned then how soft she truly was.

“A shower would help,” you muse through a mouthful of the food. “Warm water is good for tense muscles. You’re tense, you can barely keep your shoulders relaxed.” Her eyes move towards the food in front of her. For some reason, she isn’t too hungry. Work has stressed her incredibly, to the point her sentences are short and curt. Her face is apologetic after, you know she means well. You allow it. “I can wash your hair, I know you like that.” After deliberation, she lets out a small hum, a yes.

Once your stomachs are full, you move to place them in the sink, vowing to yourself that you’ll clean them later (you’ll forget). Taking her by her blackened hand, you gently, but insistently drag her towards the bathroom. Her footsteps are heavy on the floor as she reluctantly follows along. Something has obviously happened at work, you think, because she is just so stressed. You plan to make sure the water at least relaxes her muscles.

Once the water is warm enough and both of you have undressed in quiet silence (she has her showers so hot you can’t touch the water. You don’t understand how she can withstand such heat), you guide her into the shower, your touch as gentle as it’s always been. You listen to the barely audible sigh that escapes her when she feels the water touch her skin. “Good?” You murmur softly, smiling when you hear her hum in appreciation, her shoulders slowly slumping. You know Arlecchino well, it seems. Her hand comes up to cup your cheek, the feeling is different than it usually is— the water is warm, her hand is somehow even warmer. In turn, your hand does the same, cupping her cheek with such softness it seems you’re barely touching her.

“I haven’t seen you like this in so long,” her voice is as smooth as it usually is, the same velvety tone despite the exhaustion. “I almost forgot how beautiful you are. Almost.” A chuckle leaves your throat at the wry smile that appears on her face. “You are stunning, but you must take better care of yourself, Peruere.” Your gentle chiding causes a huff to escape from her, a dismissal, you know that much. You open your mouth to chide her once more, but her lips swallow your words before you can even form a syllable. It’s a soft kiss, softer than the usual kisses she gives you. When you part, you can’t help but gasp and choke slightly at the water dripping onto your face, and into your mouth.

“Did you just swallow some?” She asks, a small chuckle rising in her throat. A hand comes up to gently shove her before you giggle, a sound that also is quickly drowned out by her lips. Her kiss is different this time, with more fervour and need in it. You let both of your hands wander until the meet and rest on the nape of her neck, fingers gently scratching at the wet hair strands. Arlecchino’s own hands gently guide you towards the wall, giving you respite against the relentless water stream. The air is thick with heat and steam, the mirrors fogged, but it seems neither of you are paying any attention to it. Her hands wander, tracing every part of your body she can reach. When you break for air, her lips take purchase on the skin of your neck, kissing and sucking gently marks onto it, marks you know will stay for a few days. You like it.

“You’re always so good to me,” she mumbles, nails slightly dragging against your skin. It feels good in a way you can’t explain. “Let me take care of you, hm?” You can’t see her face, but you can picture it, and the thought alone has you nodding breathlessly. Prying your legs gently apart, she lets out a breath against your neck, her voice changing to one that always has you melting.

“It’s been so long, hasn’t it? You must be so desperate.” It’s a question that doesn’t need answering. You’re very well aware that you’ve spent nights trying— and failing, to recreate what she does to you. She’s aware because despite the water that wets your skin, you’re the wettest you’ve ever been when her middle finger glides across your folds, eliciting a small gasp from you. She hums, pleased at the sight of her finger glistening (before it is quickly washed away by the water) when she pulls it back. A whine practically rips from your throat when you feel her absence, and you begin to wonder how you’ve managed to become so desperate within minutes. On a usual day, she’d tease you until you begged for it, but all she wants is to see your face when you reach the peak of your orgasm. It’s the one thing she thinks about when she’s on her missions, or when she's sat at the office— the way you cry her name, her real name, the way you tremble. The thought causes her to make a sound you swear she’s never made before, a whimper.

Her finger moves back to where it was, caressing and moving through each fold until she’s circling your entrance. You’re grateful she clips her nails (she’d rip them off if you told her to). Arlecchino’s red crosses meet your own eyes, and her eyebrows twitch in question. When you nod in response, your hips moving slightly, the corners of her lips twitch slightly in a smile as she presses her finger in, then another. The noise that comes from you can only be described as unholy, and it drives Arlecchino on further. She lets you get used to the sensation before she curls her fingers up into the same spot you happen to miss every time you do it yourself. Your eyes fly open and your lips part, but she speaks before you can make noise.

“Shh, be quiet. The shower doesn’t muffle everything.” You know nobody will hear anyway, but she’s always liked the idea of you trying to stay as quiet as possible, the look on your face every single time a louder moan escapes you. Perhaps it’s some sort of fantasy she has, to get caught, or at the very least, the prospect of being caught. You’re ripped out of your thoughts when Arlecchino curls her fingers again, finding a rhythm that has you bucking your hips. She leans down, mouth attaching to one of your nipples, and she practically groans herself. The water has formed droplets on your skin, and she thinks it makes you look even more appealing. There seems to be something about you, in the shower, whispering her name that seems to get her. She swears she could practically orgasm herself just at the sight of you.

“Peruere, please,” comes the mewl from you, words mixed with shaking breath. She (and you, for that matter) feels you clenching around her, and it only drives her to continue. A hand comes to rest in the soaked strands of her hair, tugging gently, and she knows it’s a sign that you’re close. Again, she chuckles, releasing your chest and moving her lips back to your own. Her tongue touches your bottom lip, and when you, somehow, in your pleasure clouded mind, deepen the kiss, her thumb finds your clit. The pressure is light, and it takes only a couple of circular movements before your hand in her hair tightens, your voice rising to a soft cry as you finally get the orgasm you’ve been chasing (alone or not) for such a long time. Her movements continue until your gasping turns to heavy breathing, and your eyes manage to focus on her again. Only then does Arlecchino pull out her fingers, holding them up to show you, like she always does. She knows it embarrasses you, she can tell by the way you avert your gaze. And as expected, you practically choke on your own saliva when she doesn’t hesitate in cleaning her fingers. Not by running them under the water, but letting her tongue flicking out of her mouth to lap up the evidence of your pleasure.

“What are you— you can’t do that.” You sound practically horrified at the notion (like you haven’t spent nights with her fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet, or to do exactly what she’s doing now. You enjoy those. It isn’t so bad when you’re tasting yourself, for some reason). Eventually, when she sees your wide eyes, she relents, moving to run them under the water.

The water isn’t as hot anymore, having dulled to a lukewarm temperature. “The water bill will be high this month, I assume.” Arlecchino says it with such nonchalance that you can’t help but snort. Biting your lip, you join her in her joking. “I didn’t wash my hair. Warm it back up. I know you can.”

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kurooh · 6 months ago

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☆ fluff, with mha spoilers about hawks’ fate (ch. 385&426)

“c’mon, stay still, keigo,” you remind him softly, adjusting the angle of his head with a hand at his chin. “i’m not gonna poke your eye out, don’t worry.”

“it looks really . . pointed,” keigo replies, eyeing the tip of the eyeliner pen cautiously. “and anyway, how’re your hands not shaking that bad?”

“practice,” you shrug, “but your talking is breaking up my concentration, y’know.”

“okay, okay,” he zips his lips and pretends to toss a key over his shoulder. you simply shake your head at keigo’s antics, bringing the tip of the pen to his eye again. this time, he manages to control his flinch enough to not mess up the wing you’re drawing.

keigo had been born with his birdlike quirk, fierce wings, which came along with many other avian characteristics. his astute, piercing golden eyes were a good example of what came along with his quirk. more interestingly, his eyes had always had dark markings around them—sharp lines and wings to further add to his birdlike appearance.

since losing his quirk to all for one on that vile day, in a battle that should’ve been won, keigo lost most of those odd little characteristics, the markings around his eyes being one of them. (of course, he never lost his penchant for fried chicken.) now, as the president of the hero public safety commission, he’s tasked with talking to all kinds of different heroes who certainly know who he used to be.

“you okay, kei? i’m gonna move onto the next eye, baby,” you whisper, so as not to startle him when he’s already gotten this relaxed. he nods, lost in thought.

not long after getting the job, keigo rushed to tell you the excellent news, and ask a simple request of you. he’d looked at you with his striking eyes, the skin around them empty and bare.

“so, y’know the marks i had around my eyes? the black birdie ones?” keigo seriously described it to you as if you’d never seen them a day in your life.

“of course, kei. why . . ?”

“so, i’ve gotta go into work and talk to people every day. i’m still hawks, the cool cool cool retired number two prohero, just without the wings and eye makeup.” his voice drifted off as he patted around behind him, momentarily expecting to be met with the softness of his downy vermillion feathers.

you nodded silently, heart squeezing sadly for him. he chuckled awkwardly and cleared his throat, “anyway, i’d like you to do the eyeliner for me each day. i know, i know, it’s kinda ridiculous, but it would really mean a lot to me.”

keigo looks back wistfully, turning the memory over in his head a few times while you color in the wing and prepare to add the detail to his inner corner, all from memory. as the tip of the pen strokes over the delicate skin, he loosens up more, letting you nudge his face left and right without that nervous stiffness from before.

he notices the way your brows knit in concentration, the tight grip you’ve got on the eyeliner pen, and the lightness in which you use it on him. it’s ridiculous how something so small can mean this much—warmth rises to his cheeks and colors them something rosy.

“and . . done!” you exclaim, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “kei, you’ll love this.”

“lemme see the mirror, dovey,” keigo chuckles happily, gesturing for you to step to the side. as he stares into his reflection in the vanity, he can see red feathers surrounding his shoulders and the space behind them. a squint of his eyes has them fading away, and he clears his throat shakily to focus on the makeup.

behind him, you rest your hands on his shoulders, rubbing them soothingly as though you know what he’s thinking. the black makeup around his eyes and in the inner corners looks natural, complimenting his face perfectly. you’d managed to pull something this accurate off, just from memory—keigo sniffles, rising to his feet from the chair. he envelops you in a strong hug, tucking his face into your neck carefully so as not to smear your work.

“you did such a great job, dovey,” keigo whispers into your skin, fingers squeezing you. “i can’t wait for you to do this for me every morning.”

“really?” you ask, swaying a little with him in your arms. “my makeup skills are that good?”

“of course they are!” he exclaims, “but seriously though, thank you. i felt naked without the eyeliner.”

your cheeks warm and you giggle; keigo’s heart flutters with adoration, no longer grounded. he doesn’t want to let you go just yet, but he steps back curiously, fiddling around with the eyeliner pen. you gasp accusingly—he’d swiped it from you without letting you notice.

he flashes you a silly smile, dangling the pen from his fingertips with mirth sparkling in his gold eyes. “hey, mind if i try on you? we can match!”

#kurooh #he’s so cutie #hawks x reader #hawks fluff #hawks x you #mha hawks #keigo x reader #keigo x you #mha x reader #mha fluff #mha x you #mha headcanons #mha fanfiction #fluff #hawks #bnha fluff #bnha x you #bnha x reader

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sweets3rial · 1 year ago

Text

sunlight kisses and featherlight touches

inspired by this request

re2!leon x fem!reader

summary: leons kindness has always been abused. in so many eyes, he's still a naive rookie who doesn't know better. he figures his life would always be that way until he met you...the barista who worked at the smoothie place down the street from his base.

tags: tooth-rotting fluff, a little post re2, non-canon, leon is hopelessly in love, krauser mentioned, mentions of bruises and scars, over worried reader, friends to lovers (?), established relationship, promise rings, virginity loss, insecure reader/reassuring leon, smut, oral (f! receiving), fingering, p in v, no protection (wrap it b4 you tap it ya'll)

word count: 5.8k (srry i got carried away)

there was one word to describe him. he was simply a gentleman, kind and soft. his manners were sharp as a knife and he knew how to take orders like any other good cop. though, his kindness and sweet smile were looked down upon.

others figured him weak and easy to step on, but in a way he was. he hated talking back, and he hated disappointing people, that’s why he always put himself on the line for others. which is how he got a bullet scar on his left shoulder. he is willing to do that just because that’s how he was raised.

but when is he going to start putting himself before others?

when is he going to forget the hole that is left in his heart?

it was you. you were the answer to his every question. his every doubt and his every want. the minute your eyes met his baby blue ones there was an instant connection. he had a small cut on his cheek and another on his lip.

you smiled up at him with a gleam in your eyes, leaning over the counter enthusiastically as you greeted him to take down his order. Leon didn’t really favor fruity drinks but he began to like them because of you. well, he only got them to see you.

over a few weeks, he slowly memorized your work schedule at the small cafe and would walk in at the beginning of your shift. you’d greet him with the same smile every time, you knew his order by heart, and you knew the sound of his footsteps by memory.

slowly, he was beginning to make more time in his day to go and see you. his visits were prolonged, he’d take his drink and go to sit down in the corner of the small cafe just so he could watch you work.

he’d lean his head onto his hand, slowly sipping away at the smoothie in his hands as he watched you bounce around. every now and then, you would trail your gaze back over to him and shoot him a warm smile.

seeing him sitting there watching you intently made your heart flutter but it also made you terribly nervous. you were constantly fixing your hair and checking in your pocket mirror to make sure you looked okay for the blonde in the corner.

you tried so hard not to look at him so often but how could you? he was looking at you so deeply with those blue eyes of his. he sat right by the large window, where the sun could perfectly cascade down onto him.

his blonde hair would begin to glow on his head like an angel's halo, shadows cast down onto his sharp features, and the sun glinting off his perfectly white teeth. how can anyone be so beautiful?

at the end of your shift, he’d walk you home. ignoring the ache in his muscles with each step. there he goes again, risking his health for someone. but it wasn’t just anyone, it was you. he was willing to walk beside you even if his legs were broken.

but his winces of pain didn’t escape your ears.

“Leon, are you hurt?” you asked him, stopping in your tracks and placing two hands on his shoulders. he shook his head, his blonde hair sweeping over his forehead.

“no, no, i’m fine just sore.” he shot you a smile to reassure you but you weren’t convinced.

it’s not like you couldn’t see the bruises on his skin when he’d walk in or the new cuts appearing on his arms and face every other week. you were worried. who in God's name was hurting him like that?

you’ve asked a few times but he shrugged it off with excuses like, ‘i was wrestling with my friend’’, the neighbor's cat got to him’, or ‘he fell’. when in reality he was being trained to become one of the best government agents of all time.

“i don’t believe you, sit.” you demanded him. he shook his head, refusing.

“no, i have to take you home.”

you shoved him onto the bench behind you two, being sure not to hurt him.

“no, i’ll get us a taxi that’ll take us both home.”

he reached out for you, taking hold of your wrist before you could walk away to wave down a taxi. he brought you close to him, spreading his legs so you could step between him. you stayed silent, looking down into his eyes and now you could finally see it.

the pain he’s been hiding for so long. your heart ached at the look in his eyes, one you’ve never seen before. he was tired and deeply hurt, you don’t know what and you didn’t bother to ask. you just swept the hair from out of his eyes and cupped his cheek.

“okay, just rest.”

his arms wrapped around your waist and he leaned his head into your stomach with a heavy sigh. his muscles were finally relaxed and his heavy eyelids were finally able to close. even if you two were in the middle of a busy street, you didn’t care.

you knew he needed this. you brought your hand to the top of his head, slowly smoothing out his hair down to the back of his neck and then rubbing the nape of his neck to get rid of any tension. he listened to the sound of you taking deep breaths and then letting them out and smiling at the sound of your gurgling stomach.

it was a comforting sound, your touch was comforting as well. if you two weren’t out in the open in the middle of a cold night, he would’ve fallen asleep right then and there. he was very close though.

your touch was so comforting. it wasn’t a punch or a blade. it wasn’t a shove or a kick. it was soft and warm.

“is he alright?”

“yeah, he is! just sleepy.”

your voice was soothing, calm, and welcoming.

it was then that Leon realized that he was very much falling for you. he couldn’t get enough. after walking you home that night, he slept so peacefully back in his small dorm. after that day, his affection became more apparent to you. his touches would linger and his eyes would travel towards your lips.

you’d catch him silently staring at you and the blush on his cheeks rising up from his neck.

it didn’t take you long to catch feelings either. perhaps, the feelings were always there from the very moment you met him. he was always on your mind, you always worried for him, and you missed him when he wasn’t around.

one night, he was walking you home. you both were walking at a very slow pace, neither of you wanting to say your goodbyes yet.

“Leon?” you asked him, turning towards him and looking up into his eyes. you wanted him to know that you were serious.

“what’s up? you okay? you cold?” he was always so sweet, and so caring. it made you all fuzzy inside.

“i’m okay,” you smiled at him, a small laugh slipping past your lips. “it’s just,” you stopped in your tracks which halted his own, he stepped in front of you placing his hands on your forearms and rubbing up and down.

“hey, you okay?”

you stayed quiet and looked up at him, your heart hurt every time you could see a new bruise forming on his face or his neck and arms. you just wanted to kiss his scars away and hug him tight.

“i want you to know that i’m always here for you and that i’m just a call away if you ever need me,”

his hands slowed and paused at your elbows, his eyes went from worry to relief and then to a soft and kind look. slightly widening as his eyebrows upturned.

“i don’t know, who’s giving you all these bruises but i’m here if you need me.” you sighed, rocking from heel to toe.

training was rough. it nearly killed him every day and seeing you were the only good part of his days. but hearing those words from you eased his every worry. he knew he could rely on you but he didn’t want to be a burden.

he never wanted to make you worry about him because you have so many more things to worry about. but you don’t believe that, sure bills and rent are a huge stress but knowing the person you love is in pain is even more of a stab in the heart.

“you don’t have to worry about me,” he smiled, bringing you in for a very much-needed hug. you hugged him back instantly, practically squeezing him with all of your strength.

“but i do,” you spoke, your words muffled into the material of his crew neck.

you looked up at him, digging your chin into his chest. he looked back down at you and his heart was filled with so much love. god, he’s in love.

he made it a goal that once he finished training, he was to ask you out. that he was going to ask you on a nice date.

a steak dinner with wine and smooth jazz. he’d wear his finest suit and you’d wear your most gorgeous dress. he’d hold your hand, look into your eyes, and he'd ask you to be his.

but who knew that the moment he finished training he was set off on his very first mission. he was terrified. again, he was a rookie stepping into an arena so foreign to him.

he had Krauser and others by his side to keep him afloat but it was every man to themselves out here.

he got back home safely, just a dislocated shoulder and a sprained wrist no biggie. so he instantly made his way to your condo, it had to be today.

the week-old flowers sat in the passenger seat of his car, pretty much dead but some were still okay. the box of your favorite chocolates he planned to give you was now warm and probably melted but it had to be today.

you were worried sick. Leon didn’t come to visit you at work few the past few days, you called and texted his cell but no prevail. your messages were unread and your calls went straight to voicemail. you left a dozen of messages.

each one getting more and more panicked. he told you he finished training so where in the hell did he disappear to?

your prayers were answered by multiple rings at your doorbell and a rhythmic knock at your door. you knew it was him, he was the only one that knocked with that tune. you swung the covers off of your lap and ran out of your bedroom, your feet sliding on the hardwood floors.

you were quick to undo the multiple locks on the door before swinging the door open to see him.

you were instantly put at ease at the sight of his face but then you saw a sling on his arm and a cast on his wrist.

“Leon! what happene-“

before you could spit out another word, he brought his good arm from behind his back revealing a bouquet of flowers and a box of your favorite chocolates.

“will you be my girlfriend?” he stammered out, “or would you let me be your boyfriend? um-“

you gave him an answer by throwing yourself at him. wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him close to you, crushing the flowers in the process.

“yes yes! of course i will!” you smiled into his chest. the smell of his cologne brought ease to your heart but you could also smell antiseptic on him which reminded you that he was hurt.

you pulled away and looked up at his face, a bandage covering a cut on his cheek and his lip swollen from a cut.

“my god! what happened to you?” you cupped his cheek, swiping your thumb over the small bandage.

you led him inside, frantically taking the flowers and chocolates from him and placing them down on the kitchen table. you rushed back over to him, helping him stand upright as he slipped off his shoes.

“i’m sorry to come over so late and to ask you out like that i,” he sighed, “i had a plan, a nice dinner and romance but i had work last minu-“

before he could say another thing, your lips were on his. your lips hit his teeth at first but once he got a motion of what was going on he was quick to reciprocate. he sighed into your lips and instantly melted into your embrace.

his lips were soft and warm, you could feel his cut now scabbed up brushing against your bottom lip but you didn’t care. you’ve waited for this moment for so so long.

you both pulled away with a slow smack and you kept your hand on his cheek, “dinner or not, you’re all i need.” you said to him with a smile.

you were overwhelmed with so many emotions. both sadness and happiness. you were sad that he was hurt but you were happy he was here. even though he should be resting instead of hauling his ass to your doorstep.

“thank you,” he smiled, pressing his lips to yours again. he could get used to this, kissing you and holding you close. he could get used to your kindness and care, finally you see him for him.

that night he told you a fraction of why he had so many bruises, how he was training to become something big and how he finally went out onto his first mission.

and you learned throughout the first few months of your relationship that this was a regular thing. his missions were tough but you knew he was strong, you knew he would always come back to you and he knew that you’d be waiting there with open arms.

Leon made sure to spoil you, with flowers every time he came over, and your favorite snacks. simple date nights that consisted of takeout and movies. it was the small things that counted for you.

you always told him you never needed fancy dinners and the best luxurious clothes and shoes. all you needed was him.

you made him feel special and more than he thought he was capable of feeling.

though tonight was special. you come home to all your lights off and the smell of vanilla wafting in the air.

“Leon?” you called out, placing the bags of groceries down on the kitchen table. a flickering orange light brought you to the living room and you were shocked to see that the fireplace had been lit, the coffee table had been moved, and replaced with a large blanket.

pillows and candles, snacks and food, and especially Leon.

he stood in the middle of the room, looking at you with a large smile on his face.

“babe, what is this?” you smiled at him, your cheeks aching.

“happy six-month anniversary baby,” he chuckled, walking over to you.

he snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a deep and passionate kiss, cupping your jaw and holding you close, slowly swaying you back and forth in his hold. your knees went weak at his touch and at the feeling of his tongue slotting with yours.

you pulled away, biting down on your lip as you looked at the scenery in front of you.

the fireplace gave the room a romantic aura, the hues of orange and red along with the cracking of fire wood and the whipping of high flames. the candles were your favorite scent, wafting in the air around you along with the smell of chinese takeout and chocolate covered strawberries.

“oh honey,” you looked back over to him, smiling at him with your eyes. god you could marry him right now. “i thought you had work today,” you gasped at him, swatting his chest playfully.

he rocked you back and forth, leaning down and touching his nose with yours, “i lied, i’m sorry baby.”

“mmm,” you hummed before placing a kiss onto his lips, “i forgive you.”

he lead you over into the middle of the blanket, guiding you to sit down and take a look at all the little small gifts he prepared for you.

a record of your favorite album from your favorite artists. little small gummies. a new pair of fluffy socks. a few hair accesories. and a velvet box.

you looked over at him, trembling with anticipation.

“open it!” he chuckled, growing impatient and snuggling into your side, watching you intently as you opened it. inside was a small ring paired with a chain.

“it’s a promise ring,” he slowly took the box from you and slid the ring out from its wedge.

“i promise to be your love forever, i promise to treat you right, i promise to be loyal and faithful,” he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger, a perfect fit.

he took your ring measurement one night when you were sleeping.

“i promise to be the perfect boyfriend to you and future husband,” he smiled, his eyes looking into yours as he placed a kiss over the cold ring that was slowly being warmed up by your body heat.

"and lastly, i promise to forever be yours."

your heart was filled with so much love, you couldn’t express it into words how thankful you were for him. he was a gentlemen. even if he was hurt, his muscles sore and bruises decorating his fair skin, he made sure to walk you home.

even with his busy schedule and demanding job, he made time for you and your relationship.

“i love you,” you told him. it was your first time ever saying those words to him, it took you long enough but you’re here now.

“i love you so much more,” he tackled you down onto the floor with a deep kiss, teeth clashing into each other and noses squishing together. you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him close to you.

there was much more to this kiss, much more than passion and drive. there was hunger and longing. his hands trailed underneath your his crewneck, caressing your sides. you arched into his touch, opening your mouth to him and giving him permission to run his tongue over yours.

you moaned at his taste, the taste of sweet and tangy strawberry and you felt hot underneath his touch. but then he pulled away.

“i’m sorry, i got a little ahead of myself,” he laughed nervously as he pressed his forehead against yours. you licked your lips and shook your head.

“it’s okay, i’m … i’m ready.” you whispered to him.

you watched his adams apple bob as he gulped a lump down his throat. you two have been putting off sex for so long all because he didn’t want to hurt you and you were scared at first. but now, you’re sure.

you knew in your heart and in your soul that Leon was the one. he’s patient and loving, he’s never once overstepped your boundaries or made you feel like complete shit.

“are you sure? i don’t … i don’t want to hurt you.” he whispered to you, reaching up to cup your cheek.

“i’m sure,” you squirmed beneath him a bit, “i want it.”

he nodded his head, “i don’t know if i’ll last long,” he said with a breathy laugh.

you reassured him by shaking your head, “that’s fine, i just want you.”

“okay.”

he was excited but also very cautious. his kisses were slow and tender, his touch gentle and soft. his hands made their way back up under your sweatshirt and he practically moaned into your mouth when he could feel you had no bra on.

he tested the waters by sliding a finger over your erect nipple, eliciting a small moan from the back of your throat. his cock jumped at the way you struggled to kiss him back.

his slow touched were setting you off, they felt so good and your whole entire body ached for him.

his hand left your breast, and he pulled away from your lips.

“i’m going to take this off now, is that okay?” he was out of breath, breathing heavily onto your mouth and looking only at your face.

you nodded, heart thrumming in your chest at the feeling of his fingers toying with the hem of your sweatshirt.

“i’m going to need your words, babe.”

“you can take it off.”

he nodded, slowly lifting the hem of your sweatshirt over your head, lazily throwing it to the side and onto the couch behind you two. when he looked back down you were covering your breasts with one arm while you were propped up on the other.

there was a blush on your cheeks and your eyes were avoiding his. part of the reason you were scared to have sex with Leon was because you were afraid he wasn’t going to like it or like you.

your body wasn’t perfect and certainly wasn’t like a supermodel. you had stretchmarks and cellulite.

“hey,” he sighed out, leaning back over you. he placed a hand onto your arm, slowly rubbing his calloused finger over your skin.

“sorry,”

“no, don’t be sorry.” he placed a kiss on your lips, short but sweet. “you’re beautiful okay? you don’t ever have to hide yourself from me.”

you smiled up at him and nodded slowly as you removed your arm from over your chest. he didn’t look at the way your breasts bounced, instead, he just looked deeply into your eyes, soothing you with his soft ones.

he leaned down into your ear, whispering the words, “i’m so lucky to have you.”

he placed a kiss below your ear and shivers ran down your body and fire ignited in your stomach. his kisses continued down your neck, his lips lightly sucking onto your skin to create little purple hickeys on your skin.

you writhed underneath him, grinding yourself down onto his thigh slotted between your legs, you needed more.

your fingers tangled themselves into his hair, pushing him closer to your skin and silently begging for more.

testing the waters a bit, he scraped his teeth along your collarbone earning a small gasp from you.

“does that feel okay?”

“harder.”

“yes ma’am,”

he did it again, biting down a bit harder and something deep inside you relished in the sting and also in the fact that he was marking you as his.

he continued to venture down your body, placing a soft kiss to your pebbled nipple. you liked that, a lot. his other hand worked with kneading your left breast while his mouth placed soft kisses on the other.

“Leon, stop teasing me.” you arched your back, pushing your chest further against his lips. he chuckled against your skin, before running his tongue over your nipple and bringing it in between his lips.

he gave it a soft suck earning a small moan to leave your lips and your thighs to clench around his own.

he stood up onto his knees, leaving your tit with a pop. he reached for the hem of his own shirt and brought it over his head. his beauty never failed to amaze you, chiseled muscle and veins. braodness and brood.

such a gentle face and such a godly body.

he leaned back down over you, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss. he needed you now more than ever, he was filled with more than just love for you but also deep hunger and eagerness.

you itched for more of him, you knew he was being careful but you wanted more. you trusted Leon with your heart, body, and soul. you were willing to give yourself to him completely.

you moaned into his mouth, loving the way he tasted and the heat of his kiss. dominating you, taking control, guiding you.

your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. you never knew you could crave someone so much as you crave Leon. you wanted more, more than he could possibly give you. his fingers played with the hem of your shorts, his eyes asking permission to take them off.

you nodded up at him with a gleam in your eyes. god he was beautiful.

how could someone look so angelic, speak so elegantly, touch so softly, and love so purely?

Leon wanted to cherish you. you were his first, he didn’t want to hurt you or make you hate him. he wanted to remember this night forever, tonight he wanted to give himself completely to you. he didn’t want to hide anymore.

the hole that was left in his heart was no longer there because of you. his scars were healed and he could never be so thankful.

you kicked off your shorts and your panties, now completely bare to him. even then, he didn’t let his eyes travel away from yours. those blue orbs of his spoke for him and soothed your every insecurity.

you were aching for him, your cunt fluttered with need and your body itched to feel him.

“let me know if you want to stop,” he said placing a kiss over your collarbone.

“just say the words and i’ll stop,” he whispered huskily against your tit. you shook your head, eagerly watching as he made his way down your stomach with wet, open-mouthed kisses.

you didn’t want him to stop, your stomach was doing flips with every kiss he placed on your skin and you felt light-headed.

when his two calloused fingers made their way through your wet folds, shivers ran up your spine and your walls clenched around nothing. he was slowly testing the waters, rubbing over your clit gently as he kissed your abdomen.

he looked up into your eyes, noticing the way your hips would buck when he focused on the small swollen bud. he circled his two fingers over your clit, watching you stutter to take a breath in.

“more,” you breathed out.

he moved his fingers away, prodding at your fluttering hole while his lips traveled down to kiss over your clit. you sucked in a small breath, looking down at him in between your legs. blonde hair sticking to your sweaty skin and hanging over his eyes.

one of his muscular arms wrapped around your thigh, while the other was positioned between your legs, his fingers working slowly.

“Leon, please…” you sighed, throwing your head back.

he placed one last firm kiss over your clit, “okay, baby, i hear ya'."

he slowly sank his middle finger in between your folds, wet and hot. the slight stretch felt so good and so much bigger compared to yours. he curled his finger against your g-spot as his tongue flicked over your clit.

and god, he was addicted right then and there. sweet and salty with a bit of tang, he moaned into your clit as he added another finger inside of you.

your thighs clenched around his head as your fingers pushed him deeper into you. his pace quickened, his fingers now thrusting in and out of you as his tongue flicked at your swollen clit. the wet slick sounds filled his ears along with your deep moans.

you were dripping all over his fingers and tongue. he was beginning to grind his erection into the floor underneath him, his whole entire body was hot and itching with the need to be inside you. he’s never felt this way before, he was eager to make you come and even more eager for you to be his first.

to see you stretched out for him with his name dripping like honey off of your lips.

“more, please…” you moaned out to him. he was quick to obey, flattening his tongue over your cut and slowly flicking his tongue at your entrance.

“that okay?”

you nodded quickly, your insides were begging for more.

he slowed down, reminding you to use your words. “yes! yes! that’s okay.”

his tongue was hot and felt like heaven inside of you, lewd wet noises paired with the whines of his name. his arms came around your thighs again, holding your hips down as he eagerly fucked his tongue inside of you.

wet and sloppy is how he’d describe it, but he was in heaven. he loved being suffocated by your thighs and your cunt, he could die just like this. he moaned into your heat, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head at the very taste of you.

your legs began to tremble and the aching feeling inside your stomach was only getting tighter. you wanted to feel him, you wanted to feel him stretch you and touch those deepest parts inside of you. you were ready to fully give yourself to him.

you were shy at first, scared even but now you were sure.

you tugged on his hair, prompting him to stop.

“you okay? is it too much?”

you shook your head, pulling him up towards you, “i need you.” you breathed out to him. he felt like the air in his lungs had been taken away, he couldn’t breathe and couldn’t think either. hearing you say those words, with half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks, did something to him.

he nodded, gulping a lump down his throat. he prayed to the gods above that he wasn’t going to finish the moment he slid himself inside of you. he prayed he was good enough.

“okay,”

you eagerly brought him down to your lips, sucking on his already swollen bottom lip. he tasted like you and something about you kissing him right after he ate you out was so incredibly hot to him. he held himself above you as his other hand went to work his sweats off of his legs.

you were trembling with excitement, so much to the point you were struggling to kiss him back. being so close to him like this, your sweaty bodies sticking together and the smell of sex in the air, it was heaven on earth.

a shiver shook through you as he pressed his length in between your folds, “oh my god,”

he was thick and heavy, you could feel the heat radiating off his cock and onto your clit. it was glorious.

he slowly began to grind his hips into you, the tip of his cock pushing up against your clit in the most gentle way. it earned him a moan of his name, slipping from your lips and directly into his ear.

he groaned above you, his eyebrows scrunching together and sucking the taste of you off his bottom lip. he looked down at where your bodies met, admiring the way your cunt lubricated his dick. oh yeah, he’s not going to last long.

he looked back up at you, to see you looking where he was. your lips agape, sucking in small breaths, and your eyebrows upturned in pleasure.

“you okay?”

“yeah, it’s just …. intimidating.”

he chuckled at your choice of words, leaning down and placing a deep, slow kiss on your lips. he pulled away, placing his forehead to yours, “let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

you nodded, lacing his fingers with yours as his other went to grab the base of his cock. carefully, he pressed his tip into you, his shoulders shuddering as he slowly sank into your heat. you were so wet and hot it was driving him crazy.

you back arched into him as he slowly sank into you, your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth hung open in a gasp. it stung but felt so good.

“oh my god, you’re amazing,” he gasped onto your lips, “so gorgeous,” he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose.

his hips flushed against yours, and finally, he was buried deep inside of you, kissing your cervix with his dripping tip. you could feel him everywhere, in your heart, your mind, and your soul. you looked into his eyes, your legs trembling and your walls clenching.

“please, move.” you begged him.

he nodded, he was still composing himself, trying to keep himself from coming right there and then. but slowly, his hips began to thrust. pulling out and sinking back in with a slow and languid pace. each thrust of his cock got less and less painful.

and it wasn’t long until he was thrusting at a steady pace and you were moaning loudly into the air. your nails sunk into the skin of his shoulders, dragging down his back to leave red lines all over his pale skin.

“fuck!” you whined.

he brought his free hand to your thigh, guiding it around his waist. his thigh moved to press down on your other leg, spreading you open for him — allowing him to fuck you deeper. your eyes shot open at the feeling of him hitting you deeper and your breath stuttered.

he was so good, so perfect, everything you’ve ever wanted.

“god Leon, that’s so good,” you moaned up to him.

you were like a dream, this didn’t feel real to him but oh it was so real. you were all he’s ever wanted in a beautiful human form. everyone has abused his kindness, he was always a rookie who didn’t know better.

to everyone in his life. all his past relationships, whether it was romantic or friendship, he spent sacrificing his goodwill. but you brought his smile back, you healed his scars, and filled the holes in his heart. you saw more than a rookie. you saw him for him.

that’s why he means it when he says:

“i love you,” his voice came out in a small moan. his abdomen was tight and he was struggling to hold on. "oh, i'm close"

“me too,” you told him. he nodded, bringing the hand on your thigh over to your swollen clit. rubbing slowly and putting just the right amount of pressure.

you clenched around his throbbing cock, moaning out his name as your back arched off the ground. he took this chance to bring your nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.

you snapped, stars danced behind your eyes and the pressure inside of you finally ruptured. he wasn’t far behind, groaning out your name and then sinking himself deep into you to paint your walls with his hot seed.

his dick jumped and kicked inside of you, his muscles taut and his hand squeezing around your own.

both of you took a minute to catch your breaths, he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily and holding you so tight. your legs were wrapped around his hips, keeping his nestled inside of you, he’s never felt so safe in your embrace like this.

“that was … amazing,” he spoke in between hot breaths. you chuckled, placing a kiss on his sweaty forehead.

he pulled away from the crook of your neck, looking up at you with every emotion swimming in the pools of his eyes.

“i love you.”

“i love you more.”

(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)

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