#grumpy knives for sure
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
shiveringrodent · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
The happy plant and the grumpy plant
Tumblr media
17 notes · View notes
daryldixonswoman · 4 months ago
Text
MDNI
Era: Quarry, established relationship
Warning: Porn without plot, grumpy pent up Daryl. Unprotected p in v-wear protection folks. I woke up thinking about this I had to write it down. Help me, I need this man like I need water 🥵
Tumblr media
Life had changed quickly. It felt like only yesterday you and Daryl were cozied up in a cabin along the mountains, away from his brother, away from the world. He'd come back from a day of hunting, usually with different game. You'd cook the food and serve your man and he'd make sure to satisfy you after, long into the night. You loved your simple life with Daryl, he was less stressed and grumpy. But alas you had found yourselves in the apocalypse, surrounded by strangers. Strangers who would give Daryl and Merle funny looks, quietly snickering to eachother. He was out hunting again most days as Merle just sat by his tent getting drunk. You felt like you hadn't had a moment alone with your man and your body began to notice. You were craving him, a hot fire consuming your body. He was sitting on one of the rocks by the water sharpening his knives, a pissed off look on his face as he noticed a few members of the group staring at him before quickly looking away as they got caught. Daryl scoffed returning his focus back to his knives. You take a seat next to him. His natural musk filling your nostrils instantly. You go to touch his forearm and he shrugs you off never letting his gaze leave his knives. You knew he was pent up but he was so focused on survival, you knew he wasn't be selfish but god did you miss him.
Y/N: "Daryl" you pout
He looks at you briefly before looking away
You sit closer next to him, your body craving his touch, anything. A quiet whimper escapes your lips as your eyes grew misty. You weren't sad, you were just overwhelmed with the need for him. You weren't sure if it was because you and Daryl hadn't had time alone in over a month or that he took on a new protective role but you needed him.
Daryl looks through his brows at the group, they were a fair bit away as they had made their own little set up by the RV. You could see him chewing his bottom lip, his breathing becoming a little heavier.
Y/N: "Daryl" you repeat, more with a quiet pleading tone which made him look at you. You couldn't read his expression at first as he stared at you. His face was red and his nostrils flared.
Daryl: "Dammit woman" he gruffed stabbing his knives into the dirt as he grabbed your forearm harshly pulling you along with him. You almost stumbled over a root but you were just so excited to finally have his attention. You'd follow him blindly anywhere.
He pushes you up against a giant rock face by the water, away from the judging eyes of the others. His arms incasing you as he studies your face, you could swear he was sniffing you, breathing you in.
Daryl: "Can't gimme a damn minute huh need my attention tha' badly?" He growls his nose and lips grazing over your neck ever so slightly.
You couldn't form words, couldn't string a sentence together even if you wanted to. You felt you would buckle under his gaze.
Y/N: "Need you..please" you plead, embarrassed you had tears in your eyes
Daryl: "Cravin' ma cock?" He asks lowly into your ear as he pushes his hard length against you
You squeak. You didn't know if it was because you hadn't had him in so long but he felt bigger, harder. You squeeze your legs together, desperate for any relief.
Y/N: "Can't help it, my body needs you Dar" you pant as you feel him unbutton your jeans and pulling them to your thighs. He takes a quick scan of the area before turning you around. Feeling your plush ass against his throbbing cock
Daryl: "Don't make a sound" he orders lowly pushing roughly into you.
You moan accidentally placing your hands on the rock as your body is pushed up hard against it.
Daryl: "Goddammit woman" Daryl pants placing a hand over your mouth. He grips your hip, his mouth placed on your neck in a desperate need to claim you. Feeling your tight pussy strangle his cock as he pushes harder and faster into you. You consume his senses. He is lost inside you. Your eyes quickly roll back as your pussy tries to adjust to his girth but Daryl is fucking you into the rock. He teeth leaving delicious marks on your neck, his hand sure to leave bruises on your hip. You moan behind his hand, thankfully most of the noise being masked. You could feel your juices drip, pool around the base of his cock. Daryl become ferocious inside you, he hadn't realised how feral he was feeling so focused on keeping you alive. You push back slightly feeling you climax cumming on as you needed him to brush against your cervix. Daryl's cock twitching inside you, feeling how much you needed him. He came inside you. Thick ropes of cum shooting straight into your womb. You almost blacked out from pleasure Daryl having to hold you closely against him, panting in your ear like a damn beast. After a moment he pulls out his soaked cock and turns you around. You still felt shy under his gaze at times although you'd been together for years but he was gorgeous, especially when he was sweating after giving you the ride of your life. He pulls your trousers up, looking a little guilty.
Daryl: "M'sorry, jus tryna focus on all this bullshit" he apologises referring to the apocalypse
You hated him looking so guilty, he hadn't done anything wrong. You place a hand on his cheek, pecking him softly against the lips as he tugs on the sides of your shirt
Y/N: "You don't have to apologise Daryl, not to me..but when you're being the hero just don't forget about me" you reply with a soft smile, glowing from satisfaction
Daryl: "Never, ma woman hmm?" Daryl asks shyly already knowing the answer
Y/N: "Always"
497 notes · View notes
museqmeg · 9 months ago
Text
My Roman Empire is making sure everyone know that BOTH Vash & Knives are built like brick shithouses
(grumpy, bewildered Vash faces for the non believers)
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
writing-mlm · 28 days ago
Note
saw you do familial reqs? damian with an older brother figure reader would be so awesome.. bonus points if he’s also some moody bat and just kinda sees himself in damian. he used to be a sort of outcast himself, so he can empathize with damian when dame feels like he’s sort of ostracized from the other robins or bat fam members.
Annual New Robin Trip
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: Damian’s been Robin long enough that it’s his turn to go on the Robin Trip Pairing: Damian Wayne & Brother!reader Wc: 4.5k tags/warnings: sibling bond, both were child assassins, Bruce is bad at parenting
Dick was the bubbly, bumbling Robin. People used to say he was truly a circus kid; flipping from chandeliers and being a little terror. Although everyone is pretty sure he was definitely out for blood whenever he had the chance. He would tell the most awful puns while fighting and Bruce wouldn’t even scold him. 
Jason was just happy to be there, he had everything he could ever ask for and he was taken in by Batman! Oh, boy- oh, boy! He would hide under the cape and yell boo to all the petty criminals Bruce let him fight. Until he couldn’t anymore. 
Tim had the easiest life prior to donning the R on his chest. After that, he was the worst Robin. Not because he was bad; Tim was arguably the best Robin during his career but because he never got to experience the things Dick or Jason had. He was left picking up the pieces after Jason’s death, holding Bruce together to the best of his abilities. He went out on patrols alone, with no cape to hide under or any grumpy adult to hold in a chuckle. 
Stephanie wanted to prove a point, she pushed Bruce in ways Tim didn’t. But in the end, she was pushed to the side. No one even remembers her time as Robin. The girl Robin, the blonde one. It was only what… seventy-five days? Why would anyone remember her? Forgotten in the murky waters of Batman’s timeline. Erased. 
Damian wasn’t as fortunate. He didn’t come from Gotham or a traveling circus hiding a cult. He came from the Ra’s Al-Ghul, he came from the demon head. Born a killer, bathed in the pit— his life was cursed from the beginning. Sorrow and rot; that’s what his life was even after he put on the Robin suit. Despite being the only Robin connected to Batman by blood, he was the biggest outside in the bunch. 
He couldn’t do anything right. He kept messing up— his father was constantly disappointed by him and he couldn’t figure out what he was doing wrong. He’s doing what he was taught— the blade. He hadn’t meant to take another life— he was trying to be better. But he doesn’t realize when he’s going too far because, for him, the limit didn’t exist until less than a year ago.
You could relate to that… all too well. 
“What do you want?” Damian grits when he spots you on his desk, messing with one of his countless knives. He hides his face, not wanting to show a weakness— his weakness. “I thought father threw you out.” Some time ago, maybe two months ago, you and Bruce had gotten into an explosive argument that ended with a frozen pork chop on your eye and a frozen bag of peas on his chin before he told you never to come back.
“He did,” You hum, unfurling yourself from the desk and standing tall. “I know the security system— and Pennyworth let me back inside.” You smile. 
“Pennyworth shows little loyalty to father,” He spits, sitting on the bed. 
“He shows plenty, Damian. He knows something that Bruce doesn’t, at the moment.” You tilt your head as you add the last part. Bruce will find out sooner than later anyway, might as well tell him.
“And what’s that?” He asks arms crossed as he glares at you. You look away and huff, rolling your head onto your shoulder. 
“I need his opinion on something, something important.” 
“And you’re in my room?”
“I also wanted to speak to you,” You admit. “You’ve been here long enough for us to continue the tradition.” He pauses, hand settling on the dagger he keeps in his pocket. 
“What sort of tradition?” The only traditions he’s used to are fights or death; neither of which is he in the mood for. 
“Nothing like the League, I can assure you. I.. I take all the Robins on a… bonding trip after they’ve settled in.” You explain, now sitting on a chair. “I took Jason to the arcade and a library in Prague, Tim to my family’s annual barbecue and fishing, and Stephanie to this spa retreat for the weekend. It’s your turn.”
“Why would I care for this… bonding trip?” He asks, setting the dagger down. “I’m not like the others— I’m better. I don’t need some stupid trip with a rejected hero,” Shrugging, you look at the mirror on his wardrobe. You see Damian, sitting while glaring at you. You see yourself, staring at the signs of age and tiredness on your, admittedly, not old body. 
“Talk to the others about it, just not Richie. He never got one.” Leaving, Damian thinks for a second before he follows after you. As quiet as a mouse, he slips into the cave after you, clinging to the darkness as he’s been trained to do. 
“Is it that time already?” Dick asks when you enter with your hands in your pockets. He’d been talking with Bruce about something, but he was too far to hear. Bruce spins around, looking you up and down with a watchful gaze. 
“I have news,” You roll your eyes when Dick pulls you into a hug. “About my assignment.”
“No one assigned you to it,” Bruce reminds you, guilt flashing over his eyes. You shrug and lean against your older brother, your head resting on his shoulder. He squeezes your arm, happy to see you again. He’s always been happy to see his first baby brother safe and sound; at home. 
“I found their base; took them down, too.” You tell them, fighting the urge to tuck into yourself. “They were hiding out in Australia.”
“Did you kill them?” Bruce asks. Damian pressed against a rock, his small figure hidden perfectly as he watched the three of you. You don’t answer, but your eyes drift to the ground when Bruce sighs through his nose. “I have one rule.”
“I know,” You stress, pulling away from Dick. “I know! But I didn’t mean to! But they wouldn’t give me any other choice; do you think I wanted to kill them? I tried to save them,”
“Clearly not hard enough,” Bruce blinks and Damian falters in the same way you did. Bruce had said the same thing to him not even three hours ago. “You should’ve contacted me. I could’ve saved them.”
“I tried,” You stress. “I called and I sent letters. I- I— You never answered me! I didn’t want to kill them!” 
“B,” Dick puts a hand on your shoulder as you sniff and look away. “You know that they wouldn’t go; he had to.” 
“We could’ve—“
“God! You’d think after raising one child assassin he'd be better at this.” You spit and wipe your nose. “You’re still shit at helping us.”
“(Y/n),” Bruce sighs. “You know I love you and I love Damian, you’re my sons.” He holds your shoulder and you falter, biting the inside of your cheek. 
“Hell of a way of showing it.” He doesn’t apologize, Bruce doesn’t know the word sorry but he hugs you. You don’t hug back, just pat his shoulder until he pulls away.
“I’m glad you’re home safe.” He whispers before he finally pulls away. “It’s a shame you had to kill them.” Nodding, you look at Dick. 
“I had to kill my parents,” You admit, trying to keep yourself composed when he frowns and immediately hugs you. “They kept calling me and calling me, begging me to join them again. I couldn’t… I’m tired of killing. I see them when I sleep, their faces. Their blood was so warm.”
Damian looks away, flashes of the people he’s killed plays through his mind and he leaves the cave. He needs to be alone. His eyes are stinging and he’s sure if he breathes any harder he’s going to be spotted.
“Aside from that,” You clear your throat and fix your clothes. “Damian’s been Robin for… some time now. It’s nearing the time where I take the new Robin out for a trip.” 
“If he agrees,” Bruce nods. 
“I still haven’t been taken out for a trip,” Dick dramatically sighs. 
“You’re older than me. You’re supposed to take me.” 
“Can I?” He gleams and you shake your head with a smile before walking away. “Please!”
“No, Dickie. You suck at planning,”
You don’t spend the night at the manor; it hasn’t felt like home in years. You hate your old room, you hate how Bruce hasn’t touched it since you’ve gone; everything besides that stupid broken picture frame. It’s been swept up, and replaced with a different frame. 
And somehow, the picture that was inside sits on your kitchen island. 
Your current place is temporary, rented out on a monthly basis with some shady landlord you don’t truly care about. The lease is hardly a day old, so for someone to have known where you lived they must’ve been recently following you. For them to have access to the picture they’ve been in the manor. Because that’s the same picture, you know because there’s an inky, smudged fingerprint on the back. 
“You were close to my father?” Damian asks as you enter the living room, still holding the picture in your loose grip. 
“Thick as thieves,” You grin, although there’s no happiness or warmth behind it. Setting the table on the side table, you sit next to Damian. 
“You mentioned your family's barbecue earlier but they’re assassins. Assassins don’t do family barbecues,” He should know. 
“Different family,” You breathe in, staring down at him while he looks around the dingy apartment. “I… My blood family are assassins and yeah; no family barbecues. But eh… I’m sort of married,” You laugh and his head snaps to you. “Yup, I got married at twenty. Love of my life, they’re wonderful. I consider their family my own,” He tuts at the idea of love and you remember yourself doing the same thing when you were his age. 
“I assume they know?”
“My spouse does, yes. Their family… do not. It’s not exactly something they’d want to hear about their son-in-law.”
“Does father know you’re married?” 
“No— maybe,” You shrug. “If he does he’s never mentioned it. I don’t hide it but I never bring them around him.” He tuts and stands up. You watch with a careful eye as he struts into your kitchen and steps up to the counter, climbing to reach the cabinet and then standing to reach the top shelf to grab a cup. He rinses it out before opening the fridge. 
His nose turns up at the options and you hold back a laugh, watching as he picks out the water jug before pouring himself a glass. He sniffs the water, eyeing you wearily before holding the cup to you. 
God, you’d done the same exact thing to Bruce when you first arrived. 
Taking a sip, he seems content when you don’t have a reaction other than pouring yourself a cup and slowly sipping his drink.
“I assume you’re from the Shadows?” He’s strutting back to the couch while you lean against the counter, holding the cup by the rim with the ends of your fingers. 
“Shadow adjacent. Subsection created about fifty years back,” 
“So you were born into it?” He sets the now empty cup on the table and picks up the picture, carefully examining it, and then checks the date on the back. “For twelve years before you met Father.”
“I was,” You nod. “Joined Bruce and Dickie.”
“Before you gave up.” He adds. You laugh, shaking your head before finishing your water in one big gulp. 
“Damian, I didn’t give up. I was… I couldn’t live up to Bruce’s expectations. It’s hard not killing but I tried. I tried for years. But every time I went out someone died. So, I learned to use computers, I stayed in the cave and watched over everyone. I was the Oracle before Oracle was a thing.” 
“You were a coward,” He corrects with a tight voice. “You gave up and hid inside of the cave when you could’ve helped people!” 
“Damian. It’s not cowardly to stop trying. Because I did eventually go back, but it was under my rules. I stopped listening to Bruce’s voice, his rules, his insane expectations. Dick mentioned you like Veil?”
“I do,” He gives one curt nod. “They’re effective and father gives them high praise.”
“That’s me, Damian.” You grin and for a moment, his jaw goes slack but he quickly composes himself. “You can call Bruce. I have the suit in my closet… help yourself, I guess,” Watching as he rushes into your bedroom, he shuffles through clothes before he pulls out your suit. 
“I suppose you��re not a coward.” He settles in when he neatly puts the suit back in its spot. 
“Yes, Bruce?” You sigh, phone placed between your ear and shoulder as you’re sorting through laundry. “What do you want from me? My soul? My last piece of self-worth?”
“(Y/n),” He sighs that old man sigh he’s started doing after Jason came back and he realized he had to deal with two homicidal sons. Three now. “Damian has requested you at the manor.”
“Tell him I want to experience the Robin Trip.” You hear Damian say and you smile. “Father, tell him!” He demands and you think you can hear him stomping his foot. 
“He wants you to take him on the Robin Trip,” Bruce relays. 
“I’ll be there in an hour. Pack enough clothes for about five days. Nothing fancy, either.”
You arrive in your trusty mom van. It’s a lovely seven-seater with plenty of trunk space and a rack on the top. Of course, Alfred wouldn’t let you just stay in the driveway. No, it was late so of course, you had to stay for dinner and you’ll leave in the morning. Pinky promise. 
“Reject is back,” Jason grins, giving you a tight hug. You hug him back, swaying him from side to side. You’d missed him when you came over the week prior; something Dick says he simply will not stop complaining about. 
“Oh, hey,” Tim looks up from his dinner plate and offers a nod. You never did get too close to him; he never wanted an older brother. He wanted Bruce and you simply weren’t him. You nod back, running your fingers along Jason’s head before he shoves your hand away; chiding that he’s not a kid anymore. 
“Hmph!” Damian stands between you and Jason, arms crossed as he looks between the two of you. You smile and ruffle his hair despite his protests and threats. 
“Staying for dinner?” Bruce asks from the head of the table, reading the daily newspaper. Even though it’s well into the afternoon, almost night. 
“At Pennyworth's insistence,” You nod, detaching yourself from Jason and Damian. “Unless there’s an issue with that.” You add. 
“No,” He shakes his head while setting the paper down. “None at all, please, stay. There’s always a room open for you.”
“Aside from the times he kicks us out,” Jason pretends to whisper while Dick barrels down the stairs. You think he did trip at some point but he caught himself. 
“I missed you!” He squeezes you just as tightly as you’d squeezed Jason and you cringe, patting his back. Jason snickers while Damian tuts and heads to his seat at the table.
“You saw me last week, Dickie.” You’re put back on your feet and Dick sighs, leaning away from the hug but holds you still. 
“After not seeing you for months!” He adds, the smile dropping as he checks you over. This time in proper lighting. “God, leaving me here alone with Bruce. I’ve had to smile every single day with him waiting for you.” He mutters just loud enough that you can hear. 
“Not like I had a choice,” You grit, eyes flickering to the table. “Dinner?” You sigh. 
“Yes, do take a seat.” Alfred smiles. “I’ve prepared your favorite, Master (Y/n).”
“You shouldn’t have,” You smile at him. 
“You really shouldn’t have,” Jason sighs and turns to Damian. “He has the worst taste in food.” 
“Jason, not everyone likes burgers dipped in cheese and barbecue sauce.”
“Exactly,” He nods as if you’ve proved his point.
Surprisingly, dinner goes off without a hitch. There were not more than ten snarky remarks, not once did someone awkwardly fake cough to move the conversation along, and everyone’s food remained on their plates. 
“Where will we be going?” Damian asks after insisting he walks you to your bedroom. 
“You’ll see,” You grin. “I think you’ll like it.” 
“I do not like none-answers,” He huffs, crossing his arms. “You could be leading me into a trap.”
“Bruce approved,” Is all you’re willing to give him. It satiates him for now and he stands at your door, waiting for you to go inside. “Be ready by five, we should leave early.”
“Alright,” He nods and walks away before stopping midstep. “Sleep well, (Y/n).”
“Goodnight, Damian.” He nods and continues into his room. 
At five on the dot, Damian knocks on your door. You open it, already dressed and packed. He’s the same, with a large bag slung over his shoulders and an almost happy expression on his face. 
“Head downstairs, I need a couple of things.” He hums and turns on his heel while you look around your room. Grabbing one of the first books you’d fallen in love with, you slip it into your bag and then your first-ever sketchbook. 
Once you’re downstairs, Alfred hands you a metal mug with your favorite breakfast drink, then a neatly wrapped breakfast sandwich, and then a light lunch. He knows you won’t stay for breakfast and wishes you farewell. You thank him and load up the minivan, Damian sits in the passenger seat and you have to question if he should be in the back. And in a booster seat. 
For some reason, you don’t think he’d take to sitting in a booster seat. 
Driving off, you play calm music and sip your drink. He’s quietly eating next to you, careful to not get crumbs in the car. He falls asleep halfway into the drive, his head hanging in an awkward position so you maneuver to lower the seat for him. He stirs awake, grabbing your wrist as you’re moving away but he drops it once he realizes it’s you and slowly falls back asleep. 
Eventually, you reach your farm. A lovely place in a lovely town that has flea markets every Friday and everyone keeps their doors unlocked. 
Your land is sectioned off by a lovely oak fence, spreading across the eight acres, a dull red mailbox with the hand up greets you and you check the box. There’s a small package and two letters that you toss onto the dashboard. 
Damian wakes up as you’re driving up, his eyes finding the cows and chickens you keep lazily chewing on the grass. He sees a wild fox, chasing a wild rabbit through the lawn, scaring a group of pigs inside of their pen in front of a horse stable.
He sniffs the air, confused. It doesn’t smell like livestock and he knows how livestock farms smell. 
“Where are we?” He asks, craning his neck to look behind him. There’s nothing but open fields for miles but he can see a house in the distance. 
“My house,” He turns back to you. “I have a homestead— it’s just a fancy word for living on a farm, really.” 
“You do believe in botulism, correct?” He sneers, stepping out of the van. You bark a laugh and nod. 
“I’m not crazy about it— I just raise my animals and tend to my crops when I’m not out being Veil.”
“Why would you decide to live here?” He asks and you notice his tone isn’t as harsh as it once was. His eyes scan over your fields with a look almost similar to contentment. He looks at the cow with a fondness you can share while you collect your bags. “You’re an assassin, not a farmer.”
“I can be many things,” You shrug. “I’m a farmer, a vigilante, a painter, a former assassin. I’m not bound by one thing. Don’t you have hobbies?”
“I have no time for such trivial matters,” He turns his nose up as he pushes inside the house. 
“Ra’s is a doctor on the side. Dick is a detective. Jason takes care of the orphaned kids. Tim runs a company. I’ve seen his skateboard collection. I’ve seen Dick teach gymnastics at the local gyms. Bruce has his charities and all of his foundations. Jason has an enormous collection of books.”
“I only read informative books, anything else is a waste of my time.”
“Maybe,” You shrug. “Let me show you to your room, you’ll settle down and then meet me in the kitchen. Take as much time as you need, there’s no rush.” He nods and you show him to the guest room. It’s incredibly plain but nice. You shut the door behind you and text Bruce that you’ve arrived without any hiccups. He doesn’t reply but you see that he’s read the text and you go about your day. 
You have a pair of old working boots from your spouse's nephew visiting; they should fit Damian just fine. Setting them on the bench, you slip yours on and wait for him. He doesn’t take long, walking down with careful eyes until he sees you. 
“I assume I’m to wear these?” You nod and he tuts, slipping them on. “What type of training is this?” 
“You’re going to learn patience and to enjoy life.” You smile, ruffling his hair before tossing him an egg basket. 
“That’s ridiculous.” 
Dick reacts with hearts as you're sending him pictures of Damian collecting duck and chicken eggs. Videos of him milking cows and cleaning out the pig pens. He’s glad that Damian is having fun, each picture and video seems to have Damian in a better mood. You send him pictures of his drawings and he remarks that he’s already talented with a pencil. You don’t tell him that he’s gotten into reading, too. But you do tell Jason, swearing him to secrecy. 
You look up at Damian as he sits on your porch, an easel and canvas in front of him as he paints your backyard. It’s only been three days but you’d like to think you’ve made an impression on him. He’s woken up earlier than you to feed the animals, he enjoys talking to them and tells you that your defenses are subpar. So you took him into town to grab items to make your fence stronger. 
He hated when the townsfolk would coo at him, remark that he’s such a strong boy for carrying the wood and bags while you carried the metal and other bags. You wonder how he’s going to like the flea market. You hope it won’t be overwhelming for him; you know it was for you the first time you went. 
“What happens when they die?” He suddenly asks, still painting one of your cows. Looking up from your phone, you stare at the back of his head and then the painting. 
“You know how I’m a metahuman, right?” He nods. “I can… see how much longer anything living has. And I can communicate with animals, so, I tell them. I tell them that they don’t have much longer. Sometimes they ask to be left in peace. To die naturally. Other times they tell me to get it over with; they’re ready. If they ask that, I’ll… take them to the butcher. They agree, of course.”
“So the meat we’ve eaten these past days…”
“That was from my chicken Mile and my cow Dan-Loop.”
“Why? How could you?” You notice that his grip on the paintbrush is tightening and you inch closer to him. 
“Because it’s what they wanted. They know they’re farm animals, they know that humans eat their meat. They know. And some of them don’t care. They live happily here. And I give them the option of what they want to do. One time, one of my pigs was dying and SeaSaw told them that he wanted to be released. Travel as far as he could before he returned to the Earth. I watched that pig run and run for a while before he turned and looked at me. He thanked me and went up that hill and stared at the sunset.”
“Isn’t it hard?” He asks. “Raising all these animals knowing you’re going to outlive them.”
“It is. But I also know that I’m giving them an amazing life. It’s better than them being stuck in cruel mills. They’re seen and heard. And trust me, if those ducks and chickens were angry, your hand would be picked at for trying to take their eggs.” Damian nods, looking down at you. You’re looking at your animals, taking in the setting sun. 
“Do you think father would let me start a farm?”
“Maybe. Ask him on a good day. If he does, you can take Jerry. He likes you,” Damian beams, knowing exactly which animal you’re talking about. 
“Okay, thank you.”
“Why did you leave and come here?” Damian asks as you’re driving to the flea market. “You mentioned you couldn’t stand being around father.” The question makes you think about your years with Bruce, all the things he’d taught, and the things you spent years unlearning. Things weren’t all bad with Bruce, though. You still cherish your fond memories like the first time he’d taken you to the ice cream parlor or when he’d taken you to the Monterey Bay Aquarium after he saw you watching Nemo too many times in a row for it to be a simple obsession. 
“Bruce and I have a complicated history. And sometimes, to love someone, you need to stay away. I can’t see your father too often; it’s too painful. I care about him; I’m sure he cares about me but it’s too much. We’re too different. And coming here was like…” You purse your lips. “I was finally free from what I'd become. I could live a separate life from my place in the family. I had no obligations here; I made it my own.”
“What’s your place?” He asks, sparing you a glance. 
“I wasn’t the best at what I did. I was angry, a lot. I don’t know if you’ve met yet, but Mr. Fox would say I was moodier than Bruce. I was violent; I wasn’t sure of my place in any of this. I kept trying to prove myself to Bruce but I kept failing. I felt like a mistake for a long while.” He looks down at his lap, messing with his jeans before he speaks up again. 
“What made that feeling go away?”
“Getting hobbies.” You admit. “I drew a lot. I made friends. I got closer to Dick and Jason. I removed Bruce from that pedestal and saw him for the man he is. Not as the man I wanted him to be.” 
“What man is he?”
“He’s like us. He’s flawed and he makes mistakes. He’s not perfect and neither are we. We’re all trying. Now, come on. Your father gave you five thousand so you can buy whatever you want.”
He smiles and grabs the bag from the dashboard, leaving you in the dust while he admires the homemade objects people are selling.
215 notes · View notes
moonchildxoxx · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
A/N: You are responsible for your own media consumption. MDNI 18+. Lit bit of anguish, little bit of smut and also a bit of fluff
Pairing: So’lek x Fem!Aranahe!Reader,
Word count: 2319
Synopsis: a classic young sunshine ☀️ and old grump🌧️ finally get together a young aranahe weaver falls for the grumpy hunter and eventually breaks down So’lek’s walls
The Weaver’s Heart and the Hunter’s Soul”
Solek sat in his makeshift camp that was nestled on the outskirts of the Aranahe territory. She found him sharpening his knives with a scowl on his face. "What do you want?" So'lek grumbled not looking up, he knew it was her, the little aranahe weaver that never seemed to leave him alone. “I just came to see how you were doing." She said as she hesitantly took a step forward crouching next to him. "Would you want to go for a ride with me?." Solek paused his sharpening and stared at her with a blank expression, processing the request. Her request was a surprise, it made him slightly uncomfortable. He could handle the hunt and the ambushes but something more light hearted like a ride was foreign to him. "I don't see the point of that." Was his response.
She rolled her eyes playfully "you're such a grump you're worse than my baba.” The corner of Solek's lips slightly turned up, he felt as if he should snap and be more hostile with her. But something about her presence made him feel at ease. "You seem quite comfortable calling me grumpy." The Na’vi said, raising an eyebrow.
"Well if the battle band fits" she said. A full blown chuckle escaped So'lek, he couldn't believe he had actually laughed in front of her. He quickly covered it up pretending to cough. "That was not a laugh." He declared. "No of course not that was an involuntary muscle spasm.” She answered sarcastically.
"Exactly." The Navi replied, he felt his cheeks slowly turning a dark shade of blue, he knew she must have seen this but he prayed she hadn't.
He quickly changed the subject by pointing to his sharpened weapons. "Why do you insist on coming to see me?" He asked. "Because I like you" she countered So'lek stared at her wide eyed, the words she spoke came as a surprise to him. No one had told him they liked him in a long time. "Why do you like me? I'm certainly not one of the more attractive males around ." Solek said with an air of confusion. "They don’t really hold my interest "
So'lek's eyes narrowed before he spoke again, he really wanted to know what it was about him that she liked so much. "Do you enjoy my scowl and grumpy attitude? Is that what attracts you?" "Part of it, yes" she admitted. The Na'vi couldn't believe this cute yet annoying female was making him blush. He didn't like this feeling of being vulnerable. "How is that attractive?" He said trying to change topics again.
“I’m not quite sure but I like it” she spoke
"So you like me with my angry scowl and me being rude, then what is the end goal then, do you hope to make me more friendly?" So'lek asked before he sighed thinking she didn't understand his intentions or his pain. "No!, of course not!. And you aren’t always so scowling
" she added "I'm not always scowling?" The Na'vi asked, raising his brows once more he wondered what was wrong with this female. Surely she had to be either crazy or very brave to say these things to him. “ then when am I not scowling?" “When you are with the sarentu " "That does not count." Solek replied in a tone that sounded offended. He couldn't believe she brought up the sarentu, he actually liked teaching the young hunter but it wasn't something he would openly admit.
“So'lek you are acting offended for nothing nobody else is going to hear a word of this conversation” she said. Solek paused before speaking again, maybe this female was right.
"Fine I am not always scowling, but only when I'm being polite to the younglings. But how would you know about that?" "I have eyes, others seem to turn a blind eye when it comes to you for some reason or another.” Solek was used to being viewed as a grump, an intimidating male. The rest of the Na'vi's wouldn't dare get in his way when he was on a hunt but this female seemed persistent to get to know him. "Do you really pay that much attention to me, what is the reason for that?" Solek asked, raising his eyebrows, he was intrigued but also slightly annoyed. "I do not have a straight answer but I feel a pull towards you… I like you "
So'lek's sharp eyes studied her for a moment before he spoke again. "A pull towards me?" He replied sounding a bit skeptical, surely this young female wasn't into him. He had no good qualities, he was a scarred damaged male whose hatred overpowered all else. "I must warn you there are much better males you could be drawn to."
She sighed " You are just as good as any of the others, you just need a little bit of time and patience .” Solek scoffed before shaking his head. "I am certainly not just as good as any other male. And I have no desire to be treated with patience or cared for. I do not need you coddling me." The Na'vi said in a low growl as he glared down at her. “It is not coddling Solek having patience with someone is not coddling” "It sure sounds like it. I'm a grown Na'vi male." Solek replied in a sharp tone, he didn't understand why she was trying to be so nice to him. Maybe she just felt sorry for him. He didn't need her pity, no one deserves pity. “Yes but you have also seen great horrors in your life time and you have not given yourself time to grieve or heal” she spoke softly trying to reason. So'lek's face was suddenly stone. "You have not lived through a war with the RDA, you know nothing about grief, what pain I've lived through." The Na'vi said in an icy tone, suddenly he felt like yelling at her in all of his rage. "you are right I have not seen a war of that size " she spoke calmly
Seeing her being so calm in this situation was infuriating to the Na vi. "Is that the reason you like me? Your curiosity of my past?" Solek said with a slight edge. “No Solek your past is not a thing of importance but I understand you have trauma and it will always be apart of you.” So'lek turned away from her , he couldn't believe this female understood his situation. "You actually seem to understand." The Na'vi said before he paused, he didn't like letting people see his vulnerable side. "But if you understand then, how do you still like me?" "Why wouldn't I like? Why should anything you've gone through change my opinion on you Solek" she asked. Solek paused before speaking again, her words brought the slightest glimmer of hope within him. No one had ever liked him for who he was before, only what he could offer them. He was confused and somewhat hopeful about this female.
"Even with all of my scars and baggage you still like me?" "That's how i've only ever known you So'lek " The Navi was taken aback by her response. She ad a point, she ad only ever seen his scarred face and scarred body. But now as he tried to look back, she had never actually seen him any other way. "But all you've seen is me being rude and angry." Solek mumbled, he didn't like admitting this much to her “I don’t care So’lek” she spoke
Solek paused again, she really didn't care that she had only known his scarred side. The Na'vi felt his heart beating quicken, the thought of her being so understanding was bewildering him, but also it gave him another feeling that he wasn't used to but could identify. "So you have no problems with my scars, my attitude, my personality?" He asked her, there was hope now that his scars didn't scare her away from him.
She kissed his cheek softly. So'lek froze as her soft lips touched his cheek. He was not expecting a kiss nor did he think a female like herself could do that. His face felt like it was on fire as the he just stared at her lips before speaking again.
"Do that again" The words just spilled out of his mouth, he didn't know why but he needed to feel that once more. She kissed his cheek again gently. The rush of euphoria and adrenaline Solek felt after a second kiss was immense. It was unlike anything he had felt before or maybe it was long forgotten. When she pulled away, the Navi could only gaze into her eyes for a moment.
"Are you sure you like me?"He asked his voice sounding a bit shaky, he needed to know.
Solek would not let himself get his hopes up too much, not when he could be left severely heartbroken. He tried not to care if she said she did not have Feelings for him, but it would hurt greatly if she ejected him. She kissed him on the lips this time The kiss made Solek feel as if all his senses had been amplified. The taste of her lips caused his heart to race. The warmth of her body and her scent was intoxicating to him. The Na'vi wanted a chance to return the favor, to show her how much he cared. He placed his hands on her back and pulled her close so that now your bodies were pressed against each other.
He opened his mouth before connecting his lips to hers nd pulled her into a deep kiss.
Solek was breathing heavily after the intense kissing session and the Na'vi had to ask the one question that had been weighing heavily on his mind. "Why are you being so nice to me? I am a scarred damaged male, l am not someone you should be falling for."
She had had enough “Why? What exactly makes you damaged So'lek? Tell me " she argued. So'lek's face turned slightly red when she asked that. "Are you joking? I am covered in scars both mentally and physically. I have been at war for years, I have killed countless humans to protect my home. I've seen my family and friends die. I have killed." The Na'vi spoke slowly, he was beginning to feel the weight of these things again. "You didn't even flinch when I told you this." "Because none of this changes who you are Solek " Solek could not understand how she was still persisting that he was worth caring about. He was shocked, yet pleased that she didn't care. "You're unbelievable." The na'vi said in awe. He pulled her into his lap so that now she was cradled against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, like he was afraid she might disappear. So'lek couldn't help himself from burying his face in her hair. She smelled like fresh rain and sweet berries. The Na'vi relished in this moment, feeling her body pressed against his.
He ran a hand along her back,gently touching her bare skin. He also enjoyed the feeling of her hair between his fingers as he twisted and twirled the locks in his hand. She gently caressed his cheek
The feeling of her fingers against his face made Solek shiver. He was not used to this soft touch, but he didn't hate it. You're driving me mad, you know that." Solek said softly against your hair as he pulled her in closer. Now that she was against his chest, he was tempted to bury his face in her shoulder and take in her scent but that would only make his desire stronger. The Navi gently nipped at her ear, his heart racing. A part of him felt like a lovesick teenage boy, he was enjoying being so close to her and feeling your body against his. He then gently touched a hand to her chin and tilted her head back so he could look her in the eyes. He looked at her face, studying her facial features. Solek thought she looked angelic. The way the sunlight touched her skin, the way her hair framed her face "You're driving me mad, you know that." Solek said softly against her hair as he pulled her in closer.
Now that she was against his chest, he was tempted to bury his face in her shoulder and take in her scent but that would only make his desire stronger. He then traced his thumb along her bottom lip before speaking in a low tone.
"You are beautiful..." He spoke before he began to trail his finger along her jaw and down her neck. As he felt her warm skin under his touch he suddenly had the urge to mark her as his.
The Na'vi began to kiss her neck and he nibbled gently on the soft skin. He began feeling the strong desire to markher , to make his claim on her visible for all to see. She moaned gently So'lek's heart skipped a beat as she let out a little moan. He smiled upon hearing her make this noise, he wanted to hear it again.
"Oh you like that do you?" He said in a low tone before sucking gently on her neck.
He sighed as she gently caressed his skin and he couldn't help but turn his head to press a soft kiss to her palm . His body was filled with sensations of desire and he had an intense urge to hold her closer. The Na'vi was fighting the urge to pick her up and carry her to his tent so he could do other things to her. For now he knew he had to act with restraint and so, he settled for wrapping his arms around her tighter and pulling her in close to his chest.
463 notes · View notes
ghostlyglimmer · 2 months ago
Text
The Fun Zone Part 2
Tumblr media
Find the other chapters here
Summary:
Danny Fenton’s part-time job at The Fun Zone—a chaotic arcade and entertainment center that’s secretly a gang front—was going great until a certain vigilante stormed in to shut the place down.
Danny adjusted his uniform—a slightly altered version of his old one, now featuring a sleek crimson “RH” embroidered on the chest where the mustard stain used to be. Red Hood’s idea of branding, apparently. Hood had taken to lurking in the old gang office-turned-“management headquarters,” leaving Danny to run the front while vigilantes and goons occasionally dropped by, turning his shifts into Gotham’s weirdest soap opera.
The Fun Zone hadn’t changed much, except now the shady packages were replaced with less shady ones (“Hood-approved” mystery shipments), and Danny had to deal with more vigilantes stopping by to “check on operations.”
Today was no exception.
Danny was wiping down the counter when the door chimed, and none other than Nightwing strolled in, his domino mask firmly in place. He looked entirely too chipper for someone walking into a decrepit arcade that still reeked faintly of stale popcorn.
“Hey there!” Nightwing said, leaning against the counter. “Just here to make sure everything’s running smoothly.”
Danny didn’t bother looking up. “If you’re not here to play laser tag or bowl a few frames, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”
Nightwing’s grin widened. “Red Hood owns this place now, doesn’t he?”
“Yep. And I’m his underpaid lackey. You wanna order something, or are you just here to be nosy?”
Nightwing hummed thoughtfully. “How’s the, uh… ‘morale’ under the new management?”
Danny smirked. “Well, we don’t have to stash questionable shipments under the ball pit anymore, so that’s a plus. But Hood keeps leaving his knives in the breakroom, which is honestly a little unsettling.”
“I heard that!” Hood’s voice echoed from the office. A second later, the man himself emerged, fully armed, looking just as annoyed as ever. “Why are you here, Dick?”
Nightwing raised his hands innocently. “Relax, Jaybird. Just making sure you’re not turning this place into a different kind of front.”
“Everything’s fine,” Hood snapped, crossing his arms. “Go away.”
Nightwing glanced at Danny. “You sure? You don’t look like the happiest employee.”
Danny shrugged. “It’s fine. I just wish Hood would stop using the claw machine as target practice.”
Hood growled. “The claw machine is rigged!”
“It’s supposed to be rigged! That’s the point of claw machines!” Danny shot back.
Nightwing snorted. “You two sound like an old married couple.”
“Get out,” Hood growled, pulling a knife—not to throw, just to intimidate, apparently. Nightwing didn’t even flinch.
“All right, all right,” Nightwing said, backing toward the door with a grin. “But if I hear about any suspicious activity, I’ll be back.”
The door chimed as he left, and Hood turned to Danny. “Do you ever shut up?”
“Nope,” Danny replied cheerfully. “It’s part of my charm.”
Hood muttered something about “hiring a quieter cashier” before stomping back into the office, leaving Danny to man the register once more.
An hour later, the Fun Zone was bustling. A birthday party had taken over the bowling alley, and the mini-golf course was a madhouse. Danny was balancing a tray of nachos when he noticed a kid trying to climb the prize wall.
“Hey, kid!” Danny called. “You’re not Spider-Man; get down!”
The kid ignored him, reaching for a stuffed octopus just out of reach. Danny groaned, setting the tray down, but before he could intervene, a familiar figure swooped in—literally. Red Hood vaulted over the counter, grabbed the kid by the back of their shirt, and set them back on the ground like a wayward puppy.
“No climbing,” Hood said, his tone stern.
The kid’s eyes went wide. “Whoa, are you Batman?!”
Danny couldn’t suppress his snort of laughter. Hood turned to glare at him, but the damage was done.
“Nah, kid,” Danny said, grinning. “He’s more like Batman’s grumpy cousin.”
“Go play mini-golf,” Hood muttered, and the kid scampered off, still starstruck.
Danny leaned on the counter, smirking. “You’re really embracing the ‘fun boss’ vibe, huh?”
Hood sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why do I even bother with you?”
“Because I’m the only employee who hasn’t quit,” Danny replied. “Plus, you secretly like me.”
“I don’t like you.”
“Sure, boss.”
Hood muttered something under his breath and stalked back to his office, leaving Danny to deal with the chaos once more.
The rest of the shift passed in relative peace, if you ignored the kid who tried to hotwire a go-kart and the group of teens who smuggled energy drinks into the laser tag arena.
290 notes · View notes
yuna542 · 1 year ago
Text
Unwanted Bodyguards
Tumblr media
Pairing: WooJin + GunWoo x Reader
Word Count: 14.4k
Genre: Smut, Fluff, Bodyguards x Reader
Warnings: Smut!, Under 18 DNI!, Swearing, Pet names, voyeurism, cum play, overstimulation, threesome, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, , masturbation, swearing, motions of violence and wounds
Note: FINALLY! I made it! Worked on this quiet a while. I could hardly choose between them, so why not both? Hope you like it and I could meet your expectations. Let me now what you think.
Summary: After a failed assassination attempt is made on you to harm your grandfather Mr Choi, he locks you up against your will for your safety. Even the incredible luxury villa with pool does not lift your spirits as you can no longer join forces with your sister against your grandfather's enemies. And to make matters worse, he also forces two ridiculously hot boxers on you who are supposed to keep an eye on you all the time and protect you. Soon the forced quarantine with the two young men turns out to be more exciting than you expected.
"Shit, I'm gonna kill you! Let me go! God damn it!"
"Yeah yeah. Sure.”
All the tugging and kicking did nothing against Yang-Jun's firm grip. The knife fighter dragged you out of the car you had refused to get out of by yourself only minutes before. Doo-Young stood in front of the car, waiting as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
"Please don't make this harder than it is," he sighed, and you glared angrily at him as the older one tried to hold your hands.
"Why are you going along with this? I can help! You know I can!"
"Orders from the boss," Yang-Jun growled, then grumbled:
"Arms up!"
"What are you doing?" you snapped at him, giving the mansion behind him a disparaging look.
This was going to be your dungeon for the next few weeks. The white walls with black shingle roofs stood out elegantly against the trimmed lawn and box trees in the front yard.
Without hesitation, he yanked your arms up and scanned your body. First your torso, then your hips, down your sides, and finally your legs, where he looked carefully in every pocket of your cargo pants.
"We need to take any weapons from you so you don't do anything stupid," Doo-Young explained, and you leaned against the car they had used to drag you here. When your grandfather's two hit men showed up at the bar you had been secretly observing for days, you knew something was wrong.
Three days ago, you had snuck out of the hospital because Choi would never have let you go off on your own.
"This is ridiculous! Are you into groping young girls Oppa? Let Doo-Young do it, then at least I'll get something out of it!" you said with a typical evil glint in your eyes.
Both of them just snorted and Doo-Young quickly averted his eyes. He'd never been able to handle your flirting, and that made it all the funnier for you.
„Don't worry, you're not my type. I'm not into ungrateful brats", the older one mumbled grumpy as always. You chuckled and looked at him with those devilish eyes.
„I'm everybody's type, right Doo-Young?"
He just sighed overwhelmed, because you were not wrong. In fact you had that thing about you, that let every guy crumble in front of you and beg for even the tiniest bit of attention.
The two of them had not only become your mentors after all these years, but something like friends. They had watched you grow up, rescued you from the orphanage with Mr. Choi, and molded you. That's why they weren't surprised when he pulled out a pistol from your belt, three throwing knives and a baton from the hidden holster on your back.
Yang-jun threw everything into a box on the back seat and looked at you inquiringly.
"Was that all?"
You jutted your chin defiantly and crossed your arms in front of your chest.
"Yes. That was all."
But Doo-Young interfered and turned back to you, arms crossed.
"Back pocket," he said simply, and by then Yang-jun was already whirling you around again and pressing you hard against the car.
Cursing, you bared your teeth as he pulled the folding knife from your pocket and looked at it, shaking his head. Then he tossed it to the rest of your weapons.
"Now she's your problem," he said, turning to his colleague and patting his hands on his pants.
As Doo-Young approached you, you raised your hands defensively.
"Don't you dare put me in that golden cage!" you growled dangerously, but he unceremoniously grabbed you by the hips and threw you over his shoulder.
"I'm really sorry, little one, but the order came from the very top."
Cursing, you slammed your fists on his back, but his grip was so tight that you couldn't do anything. Not only was he one of the best fighters you knew, unfortunately he was also your friend and you didn't want to hurt him.
So he carried you to the entrance, unlocked the door with a key card and an extra code, and didn't let you down until you were in the living room.
Offended, you threw yourself on the big red velvet sofa and pouted.
"Hey, there are worse places to be safe," he said carefully, looking around the luxury mansion. The pool in the backyard glistened through the large windows, and the huge kitchen made quite a impressive impact as well. A spiral staircase led up to the second floor, where your room, a guest room and a dressing room was. As well as another bathroom with a whirlpool and walk-in shower. A fitness area on the patio, huge bookshelves crammed with stuff for years. The house had everything you could want, and yet you just wanted to get as far away as possible.
"Just get out!" you hissed without looking at him, pressing your face deeper into the pillow.
„Traitor..."
"Y/N... You have to understand Mr. Choi. He's worried about you. You got busted and killed three of Myeong-Gil's men. Just a few days ago, you woke up in the hospital. If he gets hold of you, he will not only torture you to get information, but also kill you to harm your grandfather."
Silently, you tried to ignore him. Everything he said was true and yet you hated him for saying it out loud.
"I'm going to leave now. If anything happens, call me! Please!"
You groaned in annoyance and sat up before he could just leave.
"I'll have to. You took away my weapons, after all," you replied, and he was clearly relieved when you stopped looking at him with such hostility.
Then he spread his arms and grinned in amusement.
"Come on. It's going to be okay."
Sighing, you scrambled to your feet and hugged him. Satisfied, he smiled and stroked your back. It was inconceivable to him how such a slender girl had cut down three armed men in cold blood with only a knife. Maybe they had trained you too well.
"Take care of yourselves and let me know if there's anything new" you murmured against his chest, looking up at him pleadingly.
"I promise," he replied, then let go of you again.
As soon as he disappeared through the door and the alarm was turned on, such a loneliness seized you that you trembled. Sighing, you wrapped your arms around your knees and lay on the couch in the huge house. Like a lonely kitten, abandoned in a huge forest.
The very next morning, you heard someone at the door and with a glance at the camera, you scrunched your face. Mr. Choi, Hyun-Ju and two young men were standing in front of it.
Astonished, you let them in and greeted your grandfather briefly before wrapping your sister in your arms.
"Shit, when you disappeared from the hospital, I thought something bad had happened to you," she said, hugging you a little tighter than necessary.
As soon as you got your breath back, you went ahead into the living room, where you took your seats. Except for the two young guys. They seemed to be a little older than you and both of their eyes almost fell out of their heads as they looked at the mansion from the inside. They elbowed each other excitedly in the sides like little kids, yet they remained silent.
"Is your shoulder better?" asked Choi worriedly, eyeing you intently.
You were wearing sweatpants and a cropped top under which the white bandage peeked out.
"It's not that bad. Who's that?" you asked directly, pointing at the two men.
Hyun-Ju raised her eyebrows meaningfully and stared at the ground, as if she knew what was coming next.
"Those are two young men I trust very much," the old man began, and you frowned.
"I'm Gunwoo," said the one who had shoulders so broad you could hide behind him. He had warm eyes and a really adorable face. Then the other one bowed as well:
"My name is Woojin, nice to meet you."
He too was unnaturally attractive. Curly hair, a sharper face, higher cheekbones and mischievousness in his eyes. They seemed completely different and yet they harmonized without saying a word.
"What's all this about?" you asked without answering them, looking to your grandfather. Both of them eyed you inconspicuously and looked at each other in surprise. Neither of them had expected such a young and attractive lady when they agreed to the job.
"I am worried about you. This mansion has not yet been discovered by Myeong-gil. But if he finds you here, I want you protected. These two men will do that job. They will be your bodyguards."
Stunned, you jumped up and stared back and forth between him and the boys, as if waiting for someone to break up this bad joke.
"What, no! I don't need bodyguards. No way! Those two aren't going to follow me all day!" you shouted a little louder than you meant to and looked to Hyun-Ju. You searched for any kind of help in her gaze, but she just shrugged apologetically.
"This is not negotiable. They will move into the guest room until this is all over!"
Mr. Choi's tone brooked no argument, and you pressed your lips together, seething with anger.
"They are for your protection. You almost got killed! It's not a bad thing!" your sister said and you slowly shook your head.
"You mean they are here to prevent me from leaving and to keep an eye on me?"
You didn't get an answer to that. Stunned, you snorted and looked at them again. Yes they were damn good-looking, trained, and if you ran into them in a club or bar, you would have had your fun with them for sure.
"We're boxers and used to fighting. We can protect you if it's necessary," Gunwoo said then, almost seeming to wince under your piercing gaze.
The way they looked at you, wide-eyed and trying to hide their staring wandering up and down your body, gave you naughty ideas. Maybe this whole thing could get pretty interesting after all.
"All right... I don't have a choice anyway," you muttered, and that's when your grandfather exhaled in relief.
He said goodbye shortly after and at the door your sister said a little louder than necessary:
"Don't devour them both at once."
You grinned knowingly and she just smirked. Hyun-Ju knew very well that they both suited your taste and she also knew that hardly any man would last longer than 24 hours near you without weakening.
You were self-confident, a flirt and loved attention. You also knew how to use your advantages and how to wrap men around your finger.
As soon as the old man and Hyun-Ju disappeared, you turned to the boys and put your hands on your hips. That's when you also spotted the suitcases they had smuggled in with them.
"What are your orders?"
"Orders?" asked Gunwoo meekly, and you rolled your eyes.
"What did grandfather tell you to do? Are you here to watch me? Report to him on my daily routine?"
Gunwoo looked like a scared bunny by now and you doubted his ability as a fighter a little. At least if his biceps weren't twice the size of your head. Woojin stepped in and smiled charmingly.
"He just asked us to watch over you and keep an eye on you so nothing would happen to you of course."
"So you're supposed to spy on me all the time?" you asked, walking past them into the living room. They followed you up to the second floor with their bags.
"Uh no. We're supposed to stay close to you, but we don't have to watch you... like… All the time", Gunwoo mumbled a bit overwhelmed.
"We're not stalkers or perverts or anything," Woojin quickly added.
"We didn't even know you were so young and.... and looking like...", Gunwoo stammered, obviously lacking the right words.
That's when you glanced over your shoulder and when your eyes met, no sound at all passed his lips anymore. Woojin jumped in and put a hand on his shoulder:
"We didn't know you were a young pretty lady. Hyun-Ju told us you were hot-tempered and dangerous to men..."
Gunwoo elbowed him in the side and gave him a warning look but you smiled knowingly with your back to them. This was going to be fun.
Hyun-Ju was not your biological sister. Like you, she was from the same orphanage, and the two of you had been inseparable since the day you saved her from an older bully by stabbing a fork through his hand.
Through her, you eventually came to the attention of Mr. Choi. He was quickly taken with your courage and emotionality, which is why he adopted you as his own flesh and blood, just like Hyun-Ju.
But unlike her, he could not keep you under control. You learned how to use weapons from his best assassins and as soon as Myeong-Gil reappeared, you were the first to spy on him. Your sister soon joined in and one thing led to another until you stupidly ended up in the hospital.
You opened the door to the guest room and stretched out your arm invitingly.
"This is for you. We only have a kingsize bed, but I think that will be enough."
The two looked around the room in amazement, Woojin directly pawing at the decoration in the form of scrolled sculptures and both of them seemed unaccustomed to such luxury. If they worked for Choi they were probably poor wretches from the street in his debt.
You leaned against the doorframe and looked at the two of them.
Gunwoo's smile was really cute and Woojin had that attractive charisma of a daredevil. They both made a nice sight and so at least you wouldn't get bored anytime soon.
"My room is right next door.... If you want to stop by," you said and they both froze and looked at you questioningly. As you grinned in amusement, you could see that they were both breaking out in a sweat.
You were making them nervous.
After all, they already agreed without words that they had never seen a prettier girl. Your long lashes framed your mysterious eyes and your body stood out softly under the fabric of your loose clothes. Likewise your features were engaging and the beckoning smile on your red lips was beguiling.
"I'm going to order some food. Do you like pizza?" you asked and they both nodded quickly.
Then you left them alone to get settled.
As soon as they heard you on the stairs, Woojin whirled around to Gunwoo and stared at him meaningfully.
"Dude!"
"She's hot..."
Gunwoo swallowed emphatically.
"Yeah, but she scares me."
"Hell yes. She's scary!"
The next morning, you had almost forgotten that the two boxers were still here, but when you saw Woojin already sitting on the patio with a coffee in his hand and Gunwoo standing by the punching bag, you sighed softly.
"I see you found the punching bag..." you said and both heads flew in your direction.
You were wearing a sports bra and tight leggings that showed your round curves underneath. You put down the yoga mat you were carrying rolled up under your arm and tied your hair in a high ponytail.
"Good morning," Gunwoo greeted you and you eyed him not exactly inconspicuously.
He was shirtless and sweat glistened on his remarkably defined muscles. He looked really really sexy with the bandaged fists, the focused expression on his face. So now you got a much better picture of the boxer.
Woojin was waving air at himself and had probably exerted himself on the punching bag just before.
At your glance to Gunwoo, he also pulled his shirt over his head and you grinned slightly as he stretched emphatically and also presented his muscles.
"Did you sleep well boss?" he asked, propping his elbows on his knees as you stretched.
"Yes. It's nice not to have to sleep in the hospital bed anymore. How about you guys? Do you like it here?" you asked, and as you stretched to loosen your muscles and tendons, Gunwoo flopped down next to Woojin on the cream-colored couch and they both watched your elegant movements.
"It's incredible. I've never been in a mansion like this," Gunwoo said in awe and Woojin nodded in agreement. How cute.
"You can make yourself some breakfast in the kitchen," you said and started your work-out.
They both looked at each other silently and then disappeared inside. There, Woojin leaned against the counter and looked at Gunwoo:
"This is insane..."
Gunwoo nodded and prepared sandwiches with ingredients he found in the refrigerator.
"There's a huge tub with jets in the bathroom!"
"I think it's called a whirlpool," Gunwoo smirked ironically, as Woojin mimicked his know-it-all manner mockingly and stuck his head into the fridge. However, he found only healthy vegetables, fruits and little meat. Astonished, he glanced at Woojin, whose gaze was transfixed on something behind the window.
"She seems to be eating very healthy. Takes care of her body, I guess."
"I can tell..." his buddy replied, and that's when Gunwoo got curious. He placed the toasts on the sideboard and stood next to him to also get a look at what had him so enthralled.
"Look at this... Would you have expected that?" asked Woojin, and Gunwoo's eyes nearly fell out.
You sprawled elegantly on the mat, stretching until you landed loosely in the splits. With your back to them, they had a perfect view of your body and especially your ass. Sensual curves paired with toned muscles without losing your femininity.
You were steaming hot and under those tight gym clothes, they could easily imagine what you would look like without them.
"No... Not in a thousand years. With that view, I'll never complain about getting up early again."
They watched you for a while through the big window doing different yoga exercises and both of them automatically imagined how you would feel under them. All flexible, with the slim waist and round breasts.
The next few days did not get any easier for them.
Often you caught their eyes wandering longer along your curves, holding their breath as you pushed past them in the kitchen, your butt grazing their crotch, your fingers touching their arms, or you accidentally brushing along their shoulders while passing by.
It was fun to tease them and with each passing day they became more restless. By the third day at the villa, your head was nearly bursting.
No call, no message from Hyun-Ju or Choi. There was complete silence and that was important, but it drove you crazy to be without knowledge of what was happening in the outside world right now. Myeong-Gil was dangerous and the thought of something happening to your family and you not noticing anything because you were stuck in that luxury hell was horrible.
Besides, your wound was almost completely healed, you were more flexible again and you got bored and that was even more dangerous.
One evening you were sitting on the couch, stretching and trying to loosen the bandage that was wrapped around your shoulder, but no matter how much you twisted around, you couldn't get it off. Woojin watched this for quite a while and then poked Gunwoo hard in the side, who looked up from his cell phone, startled. Woojin pointed his chin in your direction and pushed him toward you meaningfully.
"Do you need help?" he asked then, and you glanced at him briefly before exhaustedly blowing a strand of hair out of your forehead.
"That would be nice," you murmured, even if it scratched your pride.
He moved closer while Woojin watched you curiously.
"Can you just loosen the bandage and take it off?" you asked, turning your back to him. He nodded, taking in your flowery scent that surrounded them the whole time and played with the guys senses. You pulled your shirt over your head and held it in front of your bare breasts. Woojin, who was sitting across from you, quickly turned his gaze to the floor. That you had no sense of shame was something he would probably never get used to. You always ripped your clothes of before going in the shower, without a second thought about him being also in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. He would also never get used to your body, which he wanted to look at all the time and trace every line with his fingers.
You smirked and Gunwoo exhaled loudly before tampering with the clamps with shaky fingers, carefully loosening them and beginning to roll the bandage off your arm, shoulder and torso.
"How did this happen?" he asked into the silence, trying to drown out the nervous tingling in his fingers stroking your soft skin and Woojin's nervous foot tapping. "Myeong-gil somehow found out that I was a spy.... I had snuck into his place, been a spy among his people, but before I knew it, I was exposed. His goon and three men ambushed me in my apartment."
"Shit," Woojin gasped, looking at you now after all, full of enthusiasm.
"Three of them I was able to take out with my knives.... Kang In-Beom I didn't manage. He plunged my own knife into my back from behind and left me to die. If it hadn't been for Hyun-Ju, I would have bled to death there," you recounted, and both of you could see how you shuddered at the memory of the pain, the adrenaline of the fight, and the fear for your life.
Gunwoo had removed the bandage and was looking at the stab wound on your shoulder blade, which by now gave off a red scar, too fine for the act of cruelty with which it was forced on you.
They were equally surprised and awed that the girl before him was so different from what she seemed after all.
"You have also had experience with the gorilla and his master?" you asked, pointing to Gunwoo's scar that ran across his jaw and was not unlike the one on your back. Then you pulled your shirt back over your head.
Gunwoo nodded slowly:
"Myeong-gil trashed my mother's cafe and gave me the scar. He brought ruin to my family and Mr. Choi saved us. For that, I am eternally grateful to him."
The loyal expression in his eyes and the strength, the indomitable courage they both exuded was refreshing. Attractive.
"Yes, he is always like that..." you murmured, tilting your head slightly as you raised your hand. You expected him to flinch, but he just looked you serenely in the eye as you ran gentle fingertips over his scar.
"It suits you. Our scars remind us about what's really important."
The boys were always amazed by you anew. Behind the tough, intelligent facade was a deep, emphatically girl who made an impression on both of them.
They admired you, were soon crazy about you. You also liked to be around them, to be looked at, to glare at them when they weren't looking.
Just playing with the boxers, like with small dogs, embarrassing them or making them nervous was not enough anymore.
So you decided to leave. You had already escaped from the hospital, so the ivy-covered wall around the estate was not a problem, was it?
Without thinking much about it, at noon you headed for a place in front of large stones that served as decoration around the pool.
You swallowed hard as you looked up. It was at least twenty feet you had to climb.
You had told the boys that you wanted to take a bath and therefore needed your privacy. They hadn't questioned it and Gunwoo had just rushed out of the bathroom with a red head when you just started to undress in front of him.
You had snuck past Woojin, who was doing push-ups and lifting weights in the living room, just like every morning. The guys were working out so much that you feared an apocalypse was coming. However, you didn't complain about the sight. Quite the opposite.
Confidently, you grabbed an ivy vine and pulled yourself up until you found a foothold with one foot. Just as you were about to pull yourself higher, you lost contact underfoot and felt two strong hands on your hips, plucking you from the wall like a ripe grape.
A startled squeak escaped you and you tried to free yourself from the tight grip by kicking.
"Let me go right now!" you yelled, and Gunwoo set you back on the floor, but not without pressing you firmly against his chest.
Cursing, you resisted, trying to shake off his hands until he wrapped both arms tightly around your torso and you barely had room to breathe.
"I'm really sorry, but we can't let you go. This is for your own safety!" he pressed out strained as he pulled you away from the wall.
Snarling and flailing like a cat gone wild you tried to move his arms away, Gunwoo looked around frantically for Woojin, who had already rushed across the yard to help.
"Stop that right now! You're both fired!" you shouted and a desperate yelp escaped you as Woojin tried to grab your wrists.
"I'm pretty sure you can't fire us," Woojin said and you tried to fight off his hands.
Together they tried to drag you back to the house where the big canapés were lined up.
You were startled yourself when in the heat of the moment you hit Woojin on the lip with your fist, but he didn't even flinch, instead pressing your hands against your body, his chest pressed tightly against yours.
You could see blood flashing at his mouth and tried to ignore your guilty conscience. Still, your resistance weakened a bit. Your muscles were already burning from the tension.
Finally, they managed to throw you onto the cream-colored canapé with the red cushions and before you could jump up, Gunwoo pounced on you and pinned you with his massive body underneath. His hands pressed your wrists firmly into the mattress next to your head and he was between your legs, so you couldn't even begin to fight his weight.
"Stop that! It's no use!" he said, and that's when you paused for a moment. Angrily, you glared at him and stared him straight in the eye.
"You guys are really pissing me off! Just let me go!"
Gunwoo sighed loudly and braced himself so he wouldn't hurt you with his weight. Like a wall, he cut you off from the outside world, and only when your pulse calmed down again did you begin to realize what position you were in.
Silently, he watched you, perplexed, as a strand of hair fell into your eyes, as the strap of your top slipped off your shoulder, revealing your white lace bra. He felt your soft body under him, your breasts, how they nestled against his chest and how your skirt had slipped up.
Directly he became insanely hot and indecent thoughts crept into his head.
"What are you going to do now?" you asked sharply, blinking at him through your thick lashes. He was even more handsome up close and you could feel his hard abdominal muscles against your body.
"Wait until you calm down and promise not to run away again."
You sparkled at him and jutted your chin a little. As you spoke, his warm breath brushed against your face and his eyes wandered aimlessly across your face.
"Why would I do that?"
"Because Mr. Choi will kill us if you don't."
The two of you were silent for a few seconds until the patio door opened and Woojin came back out with a cloth pressed against his bloody lip. You hadn't even noticed that he had disappeared, so focused were you on each other.
Gunwoo made no effort to move, and when his gaze fixed on your lips, you smiled slightly.
Teasingly you stretched your pelvis towards him until your middle brushed against his crotch and he noticed that your dress had ridden up so high that your panties were visible. However, you didn't seem to mind. His grip loosened on your wrists and his cheeks flushed as you felt a glint of it, causing arousal to shoot between your legs.
Your pretty face with deep-set eyes drove him crazy and he automatically had to imagine what it would be like to fuck your brains out in that position. Hearing your moans as he thrusted into you.
"You know I like it rough, right?" you mumbled and Woojin swallowed loudly.
"...Excuse me?"
Gunwoo looked completely overwhelmed, but his body's reaction spoke volumes. You rolled your hips at him again and this time he clearly felt your cunt against his now hardening dick.
"Well, considering the position we're in, I think we can take advantage of that, no?"
He exhaled loudly and let go of you.
Head flushed and clearing his throat, he turned away and sat down next to you. Seeking help, he looked at Woojin, who just stared at you.
Then he pressed a pillow to his middle and mumbled a curt apology before disappearing into the house.
Amused, you tilted your head and brushed your dress back into place.
"Is he always this uptight?" you asked, and to be honest, you wanted them even more now.
Woojin swallowed and then put on a grin.
"With beautiful women, you can sometimes lose your composure."
"Charming," you replied, stroking his shoulder as you passed, which made him freeze.
Then you settled down next to him on the couch and took the cloth from his hand.
Carefully, you dabbed at his lip, leaning against his bare chest as you did so, and said in a honeyed voice:
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
He held your wrist tightly, thus catching your gaze. The amber of his eyes was streaked with golden speckles. He was stunningly beautiful, too, and his muscles tensed under your fingertips.
"Half as bad. As a boxer, I'm used to worse."
You gazed at him through your thick lashes and as he took the cloth from your hands and leaned forward to set it aside, your gaze traveled over his broad shoulders and the muscles on his back that were tensing.
You noticed the tattoo on his back and touched it with feathery fingertips.
"You served?" you asked curiously, and he shuddered as you stroked along the lines. His entire body tingled as you leaned against him and he felt your tits against his torso.
"Yes. You know about this sort of thing?" he asked incredulously. You smiled slightly and ran your fingers over the tattoo.
"Not really. But I'm interested. It's hot..."
Woojin's eyes lit up and his enthusiasm was contagious.
"Do you have a girlfriend or Gunwoo?" you asked then, and he stumbled over his words:
"No... There's not much time besides boxing."
You nodded and ran your fingers down his shoulder, over his biceps, to his inner arm. He watched how you bit your lip and wanted to touch them.
"As bloodhounds, it's hard to find someone?"
He tracked your movements, fidgeting restlessly. He wanted to grab you, kiss you to know what your lips tasted like, and he wondered if you would still look so confident stuffed with his cock.
"We're not bloodhounds."
You raised your eyebrows, wandered your fingers over his palm, and rested his hand on your thigh.
"You work for my grandfather, you're my bodyguards.... He would never hire any men off the street. If you're not bloodhounds yet, you will be soon."
Woojin pressed his lips together, slowly closing his hand around your inner thigh, just centimeters from where you actually wanted to feel his long fingers. Sighing, you leaned forward a bit, placing a hand against his chest until he had a good view down your cleavage.
"What did he tell you to do? What are the rules?" you breathed, and Woojin increasingly lost his self-control. His hand closed tighter and tighter around your thigh and you could see him struggling with himself.
"Don't let you out of our sight. Protect you with our lives. No touching." he enumerated the rules Choi had drilled into them, and now he finally understood what Hyun-Ju had warned them about. When she talked about you being dangerous, cunning, and a temptation, he hadn't believed her. But now he could hardly stop himself from pushing you down on the couch and ripping your clothes off.
He wanted your sweet voice moaning his name and touching you everywhere he shouldn't.
You nodded slowly. Of course Choi had ordered them not messing around with you. He knew you and your charm too well. You had a temper. You were uncontrollable. Everyone was afraid and enraptured by you at the same time.
"What if I want to touch you?" you whispered in his ear and he sucked in a sharp breath.
Agonizingly slowly, you let your fingers travel down his stomach, to the waistband of his pants. Your lips brushed his jawline and his hand wandered up your leg. The temptation was too big and he struggled with himself.
"He'd kill us..." he whispered with the last bit of resistance he could muster.
He... Your grandfather knew you well enough to know that one stupid rule wouldn't stop you from asserting your stubbornness.
"What if I want you to touch me?," you continued, pressing your thighs together so he could feel the heat between them on his hand, trapped just finger-widths away from your cunt.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, he furrowed his eyebrows in agony, and you wanted to fall to your knees to see if he looked as stunned when you took his dick into your mouth.
But before you could slide your fingers into his waistband, you stood up and left him sitting there, dumbfounded.
Gasping, he also pressed his hand between his legs as you disappeared into the house. It was a game for you and you were the master at it. Like chess. You were the queen. The boxers were your pawns, the pawns with which you passed your time, and both had to admit that they liked it more and more to walk for you on the board.
You retreated to your room for the rest of the day, until in the evening you resigned yourself to not getting out of here anytime soon.
The next few days your games became more and more dangerous and both Gunwoo and Woojin expected you to lose their mind every time you came into the room in skimpy pants, a dress that barely covered your breasts or skirts that showed glimpses of your underwear.
You made the time in the villa so much more interesting and they caught each other raving about you, losing themselves in mind games, only to be jilted in the end.
The danger surrounded you like the smoke of a cigarette and yet it was so seductive that Gunwoo did take a peek through the crack of the open door of the bathroom when you went to shower. He hated himself for it, but his curiosity and dirty desire to see more, to not always be kept at a distance, overwhelmed him.
He opened the bathroom door just enough to peek and catch you slipping out of your clothes.
He saw through the crack how you took off your skirt, threw away your top and looked at yourself in the mirror only in your underwear. He felt disgusting, but the line of your thighs as they merged into the perfect curve of your ass made him pause until you took off your underwear too. The way your tits spilled out of your bra when you undid the clasp made his cock hard in an instant and only when you turned on the water in the shower and faced the door did he tear his eyes open in shock and twirled away, pressing his back against the wall next to the door and gritting his teeth so hard his jaw ached. Gunwoo never been more thirsty in his life. Although he should just leave, he risked one more look. Just one last one. He wanted to suck on your skin, let his tongue lap up the water that dripped from your nipples, trickled down your calves. Your back is sexier than he realized, the slope of your spine incredibly pleasing to the eye, especially as you began to lather up your soft skin with the shower gel.
His pants were uncomfortably tight and he wanted to slap himself.
As soon as you walked past his room, wrapped in steam with only a towel around your body, a soft sound made you freeze.
The strained gasp came from the boys' room and you dared to look through the crack of the open door, which had hastily not been closed properly.
You recognized Gunwoo's broad back on the bed, muscles straining to him jerking his cock off, sighing your name. Your lip twitching up as fast as you clenched your legs together.
Another time you tried to take a cup from the top shelves in the kitchen. However, you were too short and the modern cabinets were placed way too far up. When Woojin saw this, he came to you, stood behind you and enveloped you in a shadow as if a tree had grown out of the ground right behind you.
He took out the cup and held it out to you, but you made no move to take it. You glanced coquettishly over your shoulder, leaned back a little until your ass was pressed firmly against his crotch and said:
"Thank you. Very thoughtful."
Immediately all color drained from his face and he grabbed your hip with his other hand to prevent you from making his dick even harder by wiggling your butt.
"It's all right," he dismissed it and wanted to flee, away from your seductive body and mesmerizing eyes.
But you turned, looked up at him through those long lashes you could swat flies with, and smiled sweetly:
"What do you think of the top? It's new, but I'm unsure if the color suits me."
Although you looked innocent, everything in him screamed trap! Still, he dropped his gaze and took a rattling breath as he clearly saw the curve of your breasts through the thin, almost transparent lilac material nestling to your body and your nipples forming little mounds on the fabric.
"It's pretty. Very pretty..." he stammered, trying to resist the urge to push the stupid thing up and hold your breasts in his hands.
He had big hands and they would fit perfectly.
As soon as the heat made him hard again, he watched you go, teeth gritting and jaw flexing as he lusted over how smoothly you walked away. You had to know you drove him crazy, that you were so beautiful and just out of reach that it made him want to crush the mug in his hand. Before Gunwoo could ask him, if he wanted to help him work out, he disappeared into the bathroom, with the excuse that he still had to shower.
Instead, he tried to get rid of his hard-on by ignoring it or even silently praying for it. But when he made the mistake of looking through the window, which offered a direct view of the pool and the loungers in front of it, an incredulous sigh escaped him.
You were just lying down in the sun, in the top and short skirt that accentuated your long legs. With big sunglasses on your nose, you tied your hair in a bun and to his horror, you unceremoniously pulled your top over your head. Your breasts in the bright sunlight looked soft and Woojin couldn't look away. As if caught in a curse, he stared at your body as you made yourself comfortable on the lounger, slipping out of your skirt and tanning only in black panties.
A wave of heat flashed in his gut, one that told him he was doing something wrong, that he should look away. He wasn't a pervert who secretly stalked women, though it was really hard not to look at you when you were prancing around in front of their noses all day. He shook his head, looked at himself in the mirror and mumbled a few curses. Fresh, hot blood flowed straight between his legs, made his dick thump against his lower stomach, the flushed tip peeking out of the waistband of his boxers.
Then he looked out again, eyeing the lines of your thighs as they converged between your legs, and as he pulled his now rock-hard dick out of his shorts, he tried to block out the accusing voice in his head.
Your skin glowed like the skin of a peach and he wondered if the tan-lines were as lighter where the panties were as they were around your breasts.
He wanted to touch your nipples, no he was so desperate, he wanted to take them in his mouth, suck on them and kiss you until you begged for him to fuck you. The fat of your boobs looked so soft, plush, and he imagined the weight of one in his palm as he started to stroke his cock. The sight of you naked and unaware made his head go fuzzy, garnet eyes glazing over as he shoved his boxers into the floor and kicked them away.
His cock laid heavy and demanding in his hand as he palmed himself to the sinful thoughts.
He sped up, imagining you kneeling on all fours in front of him and him slamming into you from behind, your pussy sucking him in, gripping him way better than his hand could. The naughty fantasies played like movies in his head and didn't let him go anytime soon. He gasped overwhelmed, imagining your naked body under his, stretched out just for his satisfaction. When you turned onto your stomach, he had to brace himself against the wall, panting. He had been plagued by images of you since day one, as if trying to burn the curves of your naked body into his memory. He loved how round your ass looked like this, how the length of your thighs begged for his hands to reach into each one. His fingers longed to feel soft skin between them, to sink into flesh and pull you back against him. His orgasm felt dirty, sultry, a long strand of ecstasy pulled from his cock and dripped onto his hand, splattered on the windowsill.
He cleaned it all up, put his pants back on, and tried to forget what he had done.
Meanwhile, you slid the sunglasses on your head and smiled slightly as Woojin's curly head disappeared out the window.
You made life harder for the two of them with every hour that passed.
Always the treat in front of their eyes, but they didn't dare to grab it. Yet.
The boxers were way, way too curious about you since they entered the luxury villa. Not to mention it was still late summer, so they caught you making dinner or doing yoga in the tiniest shorts and prancing around with no bra, nipples always hard and tempting from the breeze of the air conditioner.
It was way too much fun for you, however, you also became impatient. All this was soon not enough.
It was already dark and the round lanterns in the garden bathed everything in a pleasant orange light. Together with the blue of the pool, it made a dreamlike contrast. Woojin and Gunwoo were sitting on the loungers and talking quietly, but when you appeared, the conversation stopped and they looked at you attentively.
As soon as you took off your bathrobe and stood in front of them in just a sinful piece of bikini, Woojin clawed at Gunwoo's leg. They examined every little movement you made, the way you cocked your hip, how you cupped one of your breasts as you turned to them while you got into the water.
"Do you want to just watch or join?" you asked, letting yourself slide into the deeper water. They looked at each other, puzzled, and Gunwoo said:
"I don't know if we're allowed to..."
"What if I drown? Don't you have to protect me from drowning? You can't do that from there."
They looked at each other, not sure what to do, and before you waited any longer, you poured a gush of water over the edge of the pool, hitting them both. Startled, they jumped up and you giggled as your attack left them dripping and soaked.
When they heard you cackle so gleefully, something playful entered their gaze.
"Are we going to let this pass?" asked Gunwoo and Woojin shook his head, coming to the edge of the pool, but before he realized, Gunwoo had seized the golden opportunity and pushed him into the water from behind.
Woojin, however, clung to his arm in a flash and pulled him along. Gunwoo frantically rowed his arms, but it was all to no avail as they hit the surface of the water next to you with a loud splash.
Drops of water splashed you completely wet and you held your hands in front of your face. When they resurfaced, Woojin coughed, Gunwoo rubbed his eyes, and you held a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.
As Woojin tossed his hair out of his face, he fixed you and pulled his wet shirt over his head in one fluid motion. At the sight of his trained body, you raised your eyebrows slightly and bit your lower lip, however, as he walked up to you and muttered:
"Well now you're laughing!"
You tried to run away squealing. However, he caught you and splashed water on your face, though in the process he also hit Gunwoo, who also began to tussle with him. He tore off his shirt and threw it to the edge before grabbing Woojin and wrestling with him.
You were laughing like little kids, splashing water at each other, and you felt more free and like yourself than you had in years.
The sound of your bright, high-pitched laughter as Gunwoo dove between your legs, lifted you up and threw you into the water with a loud splash was like music to the boys' ears.
You wrestled for quite a while, holding each other, pulling your legs away and dunking each other under the water until you could take no more.
Your heart was light, the water pleasantly cool, and the boys' hands firm on your soft skin.
You finally landed between the two of them. Woojin had his arms wrapped around your belly, pressing you tightly to his chest, Gunwoo grabbed your wrists, pulled you to him and held you by the waist. You paused in the position, breathing heavily. You brushed a wet strand of hair out of your eyes and you suddenly realized how close you were. You looked up at Gunwoo, who had a sweet smile on his lips, Woojin's arms were tight against your stomach and you leaned against him. You shook your head, unable to tear your eyes away from him. The air was thick with an unspoken tension, and your heart raced in anticipation.
"Do you really want to fight us?" asked Gunwoo with a smirk, your skin tingling excitedly. Woojin tried not to look down too long at your ass pressed against his crotch and instead pinched your sides playfully.
"Maybe she has a chance," he said, and you tilted your head a little, like a curious cat.
"I think you can use those strong arms of yours to do plenty of other things with me," you replied, delighting in the stunned reactions. Gunwoo froze and looked a lot like one of those greek statues of a god and Woojin's grip on your hips tightened.
With a silky voice and seductive aura, you took Gunwoo's hands and slowly guided them up your sides.
"Or is that not what you want?" you asked, as if asking his opinion on his choice of ice cream.
Gunwoo could no longer take his eyes off your slender fingers guiding his hands along your curves.
"Or this?" you asked, placing his large hands on your breasts.
In parallel, an overwhelmed gasp escaped Woojin as you rubbed your ass harder against his crotch. His hands flew to your hips and he could think of nothing but the heat gathering between his legs, pressing against the soft curve of your ass.
Gunwoo cupped your breasts tentatively, but they felt too good, too perfect to let go. He wanted to get rid of your bikini, to feel them whole and complete.
Your words were like a spell that made the boxers take off completely:
"Or don't you want me?"
Gunwoo's eyes snapped back to your face and he looked almost panicked as he said:
"I want it! I want you!"
Woojin grinded your ass against his bulge and would have loved to pull your bikini bottoms down right then and there to thrust into you.
"We want all of it!" he added, and you smiled triumphantly.
It was so simple.
"Then take it."
Gunwoo gave Woojin a questioning look over your shoulder, he nodded curtly at him and by then he was already leaning down to you, pulling you closer by the face and kissing you tempestuous. Woojin began kissing your neck, continuing to rub his increasingly hard length against your soft skin.
The kiss was sunny, warm, full of desire and you melted, pressed between the two muscular men. Gunwoo began kneading your breasts, sighing into your mouth as the water seemed to boil around you.
As soon as he broke away from you, Woojin turned your head to the side by the chin and already his lips were pressing to yours as well. Sweet as honey, hot as fire and much more impetuous than Gunwoo.
He greedily pushed his tongue into your mouth, turning you over until your back bounced against Gunwoo and he could push his knee between your legs.
"Free her tits!" murmured Woojin, and his hands reached for your ass, kneaded your soft flesh until you gasped into his mouth. Directly you felt Gunwoo's fingers pull open the loops of your bikini and the top fell off of you. He tossed it aside and Woojin was finally able to touch what he had been dreaming about for nights. Directly he kissed down your neck, sucking on your skin until he reached your nipple and ran his tongue around.
You took Gunwoo's hand and placed it on your other breast as you leaned against him, sighing comfortably.
"So pretty for us," he murmured, twirling your nipple between his fingers while Woojin sucked on your other and groped your ass.
The water lapped around you and you felt detached, weightless.
Gunwoo's fingers wandered over the waistband of your bikini panties, hesitantly, as if weighing whether to cross that line. However, it was all too late now anyway.
"Touch me! Please go on!" you gasped, your fingers in Woojin's hair, working red marks into your skin.
Gunwoo's lips brushed your neck as he exhaled and slid his fingers into your bikini. He played with the little bundle of nerves, rubbing it until your knees went soft. You gasped, your lips swollen and your face enlightened with desire.
You looked into Woojin's eyes as you did so, and he was equally incredulous by the immense horniness. You stroked down his abs, over his crotch, and there he lifted you out of the water with ease.
"Woojin... What...?"
But you didn't get any further, because he was already carrying you onto the canapé, the cool air on your wet skin gave you goosebumps and when he leaned over you and kissed you wildly, you let out a loud gasp.
In Gunwoo's eyes, too, a fire burned in the meantime that could no longer be extinguished. Whimpering, you pressed your body against Woojin and the stormy kissing ended only when you both could no longer breathe. He tilted his head a bit and his hand wandered down your belly into your bikini bottoms where he stroked through your folds. His eyes lit up and a blush shot up your cheeks as he felt how wet you already were.
"Shit have you been this horny all this time?" he muttered, biting the crook of your neck, making you whimper softly. As he did so, he pressed his thumb flat against your clit. Quickly, you grabbed his wrist and held it ironclad so you didn't immediately come over his fingers.
"Don't act like I'm the only one.... I know you've been watching me," you replied, glaring piercingly at both of them. Gunwoo actually laughed softly and sat down next to you on the canapé, while Woojin knelt between your legs, the sun sparkling on his wet abs.
"Do you really think we haven't been thinking about fucking you since day one when you're always running around in those skimpy clothes, getting us hot and worked up obviously with pure intention?" he growled and started spreading wet kisses along your collarbone. Your head was already floating in the clouds, so you looked up to the star studded sky and when Gunwoo firmly kneaded one of your breasts, you let out a sigh:
"Oh God..."
"He won't be able to help you now," Woojin chuckled and that's when you felt him roll your bikini panties off your legs and toss them carelessly aside. Since he was kneeling between your legs you couldn't squeeze your thighs together and hide your soaked cunt from Woojin's intense gaze.
"Look at how wet she is!" he said with a grin at Gunwoo, pushing your knees even further apart. Gunwoo eased off your neck for a moment and stroked two fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingers and the smile on his lips turned your head. Gasping, you pushed through your back as he suddenly sank two fingers into you and began pumping them into you.
"Gunwoo... Oh... Fuck," you moaned as you clawed at his biceps and moved your hips against his hand.
"You like that, huh? My fingers deep in your pussy?" he murmured in a soft voice, as if he was talking to a puppy or a kitten.
Woojin watched as Gunwoo's fingers disappeared into your wet cunt, creating naughty wet sounds, while your whole body trembled and by now his cock was so stiff that he could hardly stand it anymore. Gunwoo suddenly pulled his fingers out of you so that you were forcibly thrown back into reality and could only watch as he pushed his fingers into his mouth and licked your wetness off of it.
"She tastes like candy," he gushed, and Woojin grew more impatient.
"I need to taste her so bad..." he growled, kneeling down in front of the canapé. Without further ado, he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you to the edge so that his face hovered in front of your exposed cunt.
When his tongue met your clit, your eyes were already rolling backwards and when he then also sank two fingers into your hole and pumped them into you at an unholy pace while sucking on your clit, you couldn't stop moaning his name. He ate you out as if his life depended on it and as your hand sped into his curls and you pulled on his strands, he growled into your pussy. Gunwoo meanwhile went to work on your breasts, taking your nipples in his mouth, sinking his teeth into your sensitive skin and groping your whole body with his big hands.
"You're god damn gorgeous," he grunted, sucking so hard on your neck that you trembled. You felt your high rolling in record fast and Woojin worked your throbbing pussy only more intensely. His tongue slid over your bundle of nerves and his fingers hit the spots that drove you crazy every time.
"Faster... Woojin please," you begged and the sound of his name spilling from your lips had his cock aching against the fabric of his way too tight boxers, shoulders aching as he hammered his fingers into your pussy even faster, almost hoping you'll break for him.
Gunwoo palmed himself through his shorts by now, as he was more than aware of the sounds of Woojin devouring your pussy and your naked body just stretched out and ready for them.
Your vision was blurry by now, but when you felt Gunwoo's hand in your hair you looked up at him.
"Are you our good girl, princess?" he asked in such a low voice that you could only nod breathlessly. All you could do was cry in gargled whimpers, writhing around as Woojin focused on sucking the life out of you, his hands now on your hips, holding you still.
"Then open your mouth suck my dick, like the little slut you are," he purred, kneeling beside you, pulling down his shorts and holding his massive cock in his hand. A strangled gasp escaped you as Gunwoo put the tip to your lips and spread precum on it. Overwhelmed, your eyelids fluttered as you licked his slit and he tangled one hand in your hair, slowly pushing his length into your mouth. As he nudged your throat, a gag escaped you, making him groan loudly. You braced yourself against his thighs as he began to rut into your mouth. He was so thick that you quickly stopped breathing. In addition, your whole body tensed as your orgasm threatened to wash over you. Desperately, you squinted your eyes as Woojin didn't let up. He noticed how your legs began to tremble around his head and sucked hard on your clit. your whimpers stuttering as he continued to suck, flicking his tongue against it before sucking again. You gripped the pad beneath you, shutting your eyes tight and moaning repeatedly around Gunwoos dick as Woojin devoured you. Gunwoo noticed it too and paused from his slow but deep thrusts into your throat, holding you by the hair, his tip still pressed tightly against your lips as you came whimpering loudly. He studied your expression closely, trapped in the cage of pleasure and pure bliss.
As you slowly came back down from your high, Woojin licked clean everything he had caused and looked up at Gunwoo.
"Fuck you have to taste her! Her pussy is addictive."
Woojin chuckled contently between your thighs, his fingers pulling your folds apart to show Gunwoo the way your juices dribbled out of your leaking hole. He teasingly blew a puff of air over your sopping cunt, enjoying the way you writhed beneath him.
Completely attuned to each other, they changed places while you swam on the edge of reality, unsure if you would ever forget the feeling if pleasure flashing through your veins like lightning. You had never come so hard and that had only been Woojin's finger and mouth.
Gunwoo took a seat between your legs, grabbed a handful of your ass and pulled you closer to the edge until his mouth met your pussy. Directly you saw stars and when his tongue penetrated you, his deep humming filled your body. Somehow you felt Woojin's mouth on your neck, nibbling on your skin, stroking your tits and you were closer to heaven than ever before.
An unintelligible mass of words, curses and their names escaped you as you pushed his face deeper into your cunt with one hand in his hair. His nose bumped against your clit as he licked deeper and deeper into your hole and the knot in your belly tightened burning.
That's when you felt a rougher grip in your hair than Gunwoo had before. When you looked up at Woojin, you already saw that he was holding his cock and palmed himself. It wasn't as thick as Gunwoos length, but longer and even now you didn't know how to survive it.
"Don't leave me out, open up for me baby!" he demanded and pressed his tip against your lips. You saw how you got him worked up and as he tilted his head, taking in the sight of your fucked out facial expression, even though they hadn't really done anything yet, he was sure not only to be satisfied with a blowjob today. He tapped at your lips with his angry red tip, his eyes wide with demand.
You couldn't help but obediently obeying like the good girl you were, you parted your lips for him, taking the tip of his cock with ease. With uneven whines of pleasure, you stuck your tongue out to lick up his length. Slobbering messily, you smeared a mixture of precum and spit all over your chin.
Woojin tangled his fingers into the strands of your hair, guiding your head, watching your lips stretched around his dick as he pushed himself down your throat.
Tears welled up in your eyes and the naughtiest sounds escaped you as he began to snap his hips against your face. Your slurping noises and stifled whimpers only seemed to spur Gunwoo on, as he gripped his hands tighter into the flesh of your thighs and sinked his whole face into your pussy, licking as deep as he could.
Woojin grunts, feeling you swallow around him. He liked the way your eyes clouded with tears, the way you looked at him with such urgency when you needed to breathe.
"I think she's about to cum," Woojin gasped between his deep thrusts into your throat, and Gunwoo hummed in response, continuing to penetrate you with his tongue.
"Gunwoo tongue-fucking you real good, huh?", Woojin pressed out and pushed you all the way onto his cock so that your nose bounced against his lower belly and the world around you blurred. Gunwoo meanwhile withdrawing his tongue from your pussy and spreading your lips to start sucking on your clit again, a scream ripping from your throat from how amazing he was making you feel, as Woojin roughly pulled you back by the hair in time and pulled his dick out of your mouth to look at your face as you crumbled beneath him. Gunwoos mouth and tongue still torturing you. You'd long accepted that you were going to have to just cum for them. It's something they made sure you understood from the beginning. You came not for your own pleasure but because they wanted to see it. Like hungry lions they were just waiting until they pushed you over the edge each time. Your high shook you and your eyes rolled back as Gunwoo obsessively pressed his mouth on your pussy again. Woojin watched with satisfaction as you recovered from your climax, continuing to hold you by the hair so as not to miss any detail of your flushed face.
When you were gradually able to think clearly again, your legs were still shaking and the boxers were looking at you with a gentle smile.
"Holy shit," you sighed, running your hands through your hair and looking Gunwoo in the eye as he climbed back up to you.
"Was that good?" he asked, though he could read the answer on your face and body.
"That was sick," you murmured, and that's when his lips crashed down on yours. You could taste yourself on him, his hands tight on your hips and your head fogged with lust and desire.
"You didn't think that was it, did you?" asked Woojin suddenly, after the boxers had exchanged a meaningful glance. Even if you saw clearly again, your head was still filled with absorbent cotton. Before you could inquire, Woojin grabbed you by the hips and threw you over his shoulder. Grumbling, you drummed on his back as he carried you into the mansion, Gunwoo close behind you.
"Put me down! I can walk myself!"
He didn't even seem to have a little trouble carrying you up the stairs, and when he just laughed throatily, you got all hot.
"Don't act like you don't like being bossed around. You were just fucking begging me to finger you faster," he said and your head glowed with shame and arousal. In truth, you had never experienced anything hotter than being used by the two of them and everything inside you was screaming to finally be fucked.
He carried you to his and Gunwoo's room, threw you on the kingsized bed and climbed between your legs to kiss you. Demandingly, he slid his tongue into your mouth without hesitation, grabbed your hips and rubbed his hard dick through the fabric of his shorts against your thigh.
You sighed softly and your cunt contracted demanding. You wanted to feel him, deep inside you even if his size was already scaring you.
Gunwoo closed the door behind you and sat down on the chair beside the bed, watching you intently. Woojin kissed the red marks he and his best friend had worked into your skin all over your neck and breasts, then looked at you.
"What do you want, princess? Tell us so we can make you feel good. We're here just for you."
His voice was rough with lust and you melted under the gaze of his gemstone eyes. He couldn't get enough of the sight of your soft skin, pleading eyes and legs spread over the bed. He looked at you through half hooded eyes.
"Oh yeah? You're selflessly dragging me into your bed?" you asked cheekily, wandering your fingers down his stomach until you slid them into his waistband. He smelled seductively woody and of honey, which immediately gummed up your mind. Worse than any alcohol.
Woojin grinned crookedly and put a hand around your neck to push you back onto the mattress. You could feel how impatient he was.
"Answer him!" sounded Gunwoo's voice, low and rough, and you shuddered.
It was enough to make you gulp and the heat between your legs pulsate.
"Fuck me. I want my bodyguards to fuck me until I can't walk," you whispered and immediately fire shot into Woojin's eyes. He looked to Gunwoo, whose dick was massive and powerful in his hand.
"You want to start?" he asked him, and you got goosebumps. Gunwoo shook his head and smiled gently:
"You start. I'll take her after you stretched her for me."
Woojin nodded with a dirty grin, looked down at you with an intimidating stare, and flipped you onto your stomach by your hips with lightning speed. With a gasp, you felt him grab your hips, pulling you toward him until you were propped up on your elbows and your ass was sticking up in the air in front of him.
With one hand he pushed your torso into the mattress, with the other he pulled off his boxers. Your body trembled when you felt his tip at your entrance. He covered it with your juices, letting it brush up and down between your folds, and his tip alone would stretch and ache you, you knew for sure. He wasn't as thick as Gunwoo, but he was longer and you'd never had such massive cocks before.
"Look at the little princess..." he said teasingly to Gunwoo as he continued to tease you with his tip at your entrance, rubbing along your clit.
"Ready and desperate for us to fuck her brains out."
He had wanted you like this since he saw you that morning, ass in the air as you did your early morning exercises. But now you were even hotter, pussy messy and dripping and already spread from his fingers. He had an urge to spank you, punish you a bit for being so dirty, for teasing him for so damn long, but his balls are so heavy with cum that he needed to pound into you, like he needed to breath.
"I'm trying not to break you," he growled, and that's when he started to penetrate you. You whimpered softly as he began to push his tip inside you.
Your face was pressed into the mattress and you could only look at Gunwoo, who was watching intently as Woojin sank inch by inch deeper into you. Your body trembled and your walls began to pulse painfully.
He dug his fingers into your hips so you couldn't get away and pushed his length incessantly into your aching hole. Directly your field of vision veiled as inch by inch he seemed to tear your insides apart, regardless of your whimpers and gasps.
You clawed at the bed sheet and just as he disappeared halfway inside you, he paused to sigh softly:
"Holy shit. Your so tight. The best pussy I ever felt..."
You managed to take a quick breath and adjust to his size as a naughty moan was ripped from you as he thrusted completely into you unannounced. Your widened eyes met Gunwoo's as he palmed his hard dick and watched you in overwhelm, moaning softly.
"Oh fuck... Woojin it's too big," you pressed out overwhelmed, between whimpering and gasping. Subdued, you moaned out, clawing your hands into the mattress until his thighs bumped against yours. You felt his balls pressed against your clit and he pulsed deep inside you. Then he leaned over you until his mouth hovered next to your ear. He kissed your shoulders reassuringly and murmured:
"Shh. I know baby girl. Take it like the little whore you are."
Your breath caught as he slid out of you and slammed into you again. This time faster as your arousal was already dripping out of your cunt and as soon as he started thrusting into you, your eyes rolled back.
"Fuck so good," he gasped and Gunwoo started moving his hand up and down his cock, turned on by the way his best friend was destroying you from behind.
Then he started moving his hips steadily, he gripped your hips tightly and after just a few thrusts you thought you were going to burst. Every movement electrified you and soon all you could hear was your moans, the slap of his hips against your ass and his low growl as he took you hard and deep from behind. He could feel the thick veins that ran along the length of his cock rubbing against your walls with every plunge, and knew you could feel them too. Your hands were already slipping against the sheets, searching for some kind of sanity to cling on to as he fucked you senseless. All the while, you watched Gunwoo who couldn't take his eyes off of you, and as you narrowed your eyes at your third orgasm, Woojin grabbed your hands and yanked them out from under you, leaving you fully at his mercy.
"Look at Gunwoo and show him how good I'm fucking you!" he panted, seeming to reach deeper with each thrust. He moved his hips roughly and quickly. By then he was holding your wrists with only one hand, reaching for your face with the other, bending over you and turning your head until your lips collided. He was starving, keeping your face in his iron grip so he could take what he wanted so bad. Your lips were soft but eager, following his movements, trying to keep up. It was sloppy, a clash of tongues and spit smearing across cheeks. But you tasted so good, felt so fucking good bouncing against him. He twisted one of your sensitive buds, thumb and forefinger plucking and pulling as you moaned all breathy and light.
He gasped and clawed his fingers into your hips so hard it hurt, but you were hardly aware of anything except the enormous bliss that mixed with the pain into a pleasant mass.
He filled you up completely, messed up your insides and with every thrust you were more on fire.
The room was filled with slapping skin, the wet sound of your cunt and your sinful noises. You were seeing stars by now and he was just stepping it up a notch, slamming into you like he was trying to win a race.
Your cheek rubbed against the sheets with each time and your mouth was open as his name rolled from your lips like a desperate prayer.
The knot in your stomach tightened firmly and you could see Gunwoo's heated gaze as he watched closely as Woojin's cock disappeared into your tight hole and penetrated it.
Your back ached and Woojin was sure he had never seen anything more beautiful than your cockdrunk face, your body bent just for him and your ass slapping steadily against his hips.
"How does she feel?" asked Gunwoo, sliding his hand along his dick, edging himself.
"Incredible. So wet... So tight. Fuck she's crushing me," he gasped between thrusts, letting his hips snap deep inside you several times, hitting the sensitive spot each time, sending you into a different atmosphere.
With your hands behind your back and Woojins cock squeezed at your tense walls, he snapped his hips hard against yours a few more times before his movement became chaotic and sloppy.
By now your arousal was flowing down your thighs and had he not held you upright by your arms, you would have simply collapsed while the orgasm almost overtook you like an avalanche. The world was enveloped in a glistening white light and Woojin pushed you over the edge as you moaned his name so sinfully that he would probably never forget it. He felt your walls tighten around him and your body spasmed.
"It's okay baby girl! Come around my cock! Let me fill you up," he moaned and that's when the knot in your belly snapped into white glowing hot pleasure. You screamed, your next orgasm explosive your eyes rolling so hard it hurt, your entire body shivering as you tried to handle the pleasure.
Your orgasm made your entire body tremble and the expression on your face, pressed against the bed sheet, your eyebrows drawn together accusingly and your features contorted with desire, that's when Woojin came too.
With a loud grunt he came deep inside you, but he didn't stop, not even as thick ropes of hot cum filled your already gushing pussy and spurting out onto his stomach, onto your thighs. He was unrelenting, keeping you both within the throes of orgasmic bliss with his cock plunging inside of you over and over again. His hot cum mixed with your juices and spilled out of your cunt as soon as he pulled out. The sight made Gunwoo clench his teeth. Sweat stood on Woojin's forehead and he looked at what he did with satisfaction.
Taken completely by surprise, you stayed flat on the bed, trying to calm your breathing, but the orgasm left you drained and shaking, your eyelids fluttering and your fucked out face. It was a glorious view and he gently turned you over onto your back, brushed your hair out of your face and kissed your lips with so much affection that you felt quite comfortable.
"Are you all right?" he asked, kissing your neck, stroking your sides and calming you.
You nodded weakly and gradually you came back to reality. Gunwoo stood beside the bed, his throbbing cock heavy in his hand, and your body immediately responded by letting the arousal run between your legs again.
"Do you think you can really take both of us?" he asked challengingly and the mocking grin on his lips, made the pride and lust return.
"Of course..." you said, and Woojin tilted his head a little, his eyes shining energetically, and he grazed your neck with his lips.
"So you want Gunwoo to fuck you too?"
Quickly you nodded and looked at Gunwoo, who looked impatient.
"Such a good girl...", Woojin purred and stepped back to make room for Gunwoo, who was lunging over you as he did at noon today, spreading almost innocent kisses along your jaw. You felt his tip at your entrance and your body responded without you being able to do anything about it.
You wrapped your legs around his hips and there he pressed his tip into your aching hole. "Fuck, I guess we're wrecking her tonight?", Gunwoo chuckled , biting his lip at the sight of your pussy spread so wide open for him.
As he stretched you open, the initial thrust inside is slow and sharp. He smelled pleasantly sweet of fresh strawberries and cinnamon, which immediately got you hooked. He was big, shifting his hips slowly for you to take it all in. He intercepted your moans with kisses until you were moaning into his mouth, fingers clutched tightly in his back and barely able to perceive the world around you anymore. He moved his hips fluidly, almost artistically, finding the sensitive spots that made you fly every time. There he worked it down your body again. His eager, hot mouth enveloping one of your nipples and sucking. His tongue flattens, nibbling on your heated skin and swirling around your nipples, fast and rough until you were whining, your cries came with every thrust. You were the perfect picture, everything even more incredible than either of them had ever tried to visualize. He felt unlike anyone you had ever been with. Beside his kind nature there was a sadistic edge to his slowness, dragging each stroke as if he wanted to slide over every nerve in the tight depth of your cunt. Your body was out of your control by now, the coil in your belly so tense that you feared fainting with the next orgasm, while your brain was just mush.
"Gunwoo, you're gonna fucking break me!", you sighed and moving your hips against his, without a chance of resistance.
His muscles under your skin felt warm and protective. You sucked him right in, all tight and warm, gummy walls spreading to fit snugly around him. Your moan was swallowed down his throat as he pressed his mouth to yours again, brutal and quick. But somehow sweet and intense.
"Don't act all surprised, you wanted this. You were the one driving us crazy all along," Woojin said from his place on the chair where he watched you two fucking tightly entwined.
He was right. You wanted this, but you never thought that both of them were so good in bed and fucked your mind out with ease. Gunwoo smiled and his breath bounced against your lips as he held your hips as your body's were completely melted into each other. He lifted your hips a little with both hands to sink even deeper. Directly your eyes rolled back and only incoherent sounds passed your lips anymore. Enchanted by your beauty, the warmth of your cunt and your body that he never wanted to let go of, he pressed his lips hard on yours again as he felt your body trembling beneath him and your fingernails digging deeper into his back.
You gasped into his mouth, unconsciously raising your leg up to wrap around his waist tighter as he supported you with his arm, your fingernails clawing at his shoulders as you felt yourself reach your climax, the coil in your tummy snapping.
"Fuck she's crushing me," he moaned, coming deep inside you moments later. Overwhelmed, your breath went rattling and you tried to gasp, clutching tightly. You didn't know if minutes or hours had passed as Gunwoo rolled off you and stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. You could not yet comprehend what had just happened. Only when Woojin slipped into bed next to you and pulled you in by the waist until your back was pressed tightly against his chest did your pulse gradually calm down. It was pitch dark outside and their bed seemed more comfortable than your own right now. Gunwoo moved close to you so that you could lay your head on his chest and feel his heartbeat with your hand. So you fell asleep tightly embraced, exhausted and overwhelmed. You felt safe and secure. A Feeling that you had been missing for a very long time and that was all the more beautiful now that you perceived it again.
You fell into a dreamless deep sleep and when you opened your eyes the next morning, it took you an eternity to realize that the ringing noise did not come from you imagination. Sighing, you felt Woojin's arm wrapped tightly around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck, and Gunwoo was also still fast asleep, one hand on your hip.
The events of last night were burned into your memories like brands and you would probably feel the traces of that night for days to come. But then the front doorbell rang again and finally even the boxers slowly woke up grumbling.
You managed to free yourself from Woojin's grasp and push Gunwoo's massive arm aside to slip out of bed. Quickly grabbing your robe from your room, you sleepily hurried down the stairs as the doorbell continued to ring.
"Yes, yes! I'm coming!" you called out, and when you saw your sister on the display outside the door, you breathed a sigh of relief.
As soon as you opened the door, she was already rushing in.
"You're not awake yet?" she asked incredulously, heading straight for the kitchen to make herself some coffee.
In fact, it was unusual for you not to be up at this hour. You were an early riser, always full of energy. But after last night, you were glad to be able to walk upright. Hyun-Ju turned to you and leaned against the kitchen counter. She looked around the apartment in wonder.
"Where are your bodyguards?" she asked curiously, and you automatically pulled your robe tighter around your body.
"They're still asleep."
Suspiciously, she looked at you properly for the first time. There from second to second the questioning look turned to recognition then to disbelief.
"What's that on your neck?" she snapped, and you jerked back a step as she tried to touch a spot the boxers left on your neck with her finger.
"Nothing!" it escaped you too panicked, too quickly. She furrowed her eyebrows and grabbed your robe, pulling it down a bit. Her eyes went wide and her mouth was open in bewilderment.
"Holy shit!"
Directly you slapped her hand away and took her now full coffee cup to drink it yourself.
"Which one did you lure into your bed?" she asked directly and you tried to hide your grin by taking a big gulp from the coffee mug.
Because you couldn't answer without grinning like an idiot, she scrunched her nos in disbelief.
Slowly she began to realize it. She could always read your thoughts on your face.
"Don't tell me you have...", but she didn't get any further, because now Gunwoo and Woojin also came strolling down the stairs. Their hair messed up, yawning and Gunwoo wearing sweatpants while Woojin was only in his boxershorts. When they saw you they greeted curtly and Hyun-Ju could almost grab the smell of sex in the air as they smiled amusedly at you as you passed.
"Good morning Hyun-Ju. Boss," Woojin said, and Gunwoo pressed his lips together to avoid looking too guilty. But Woojin's satisfied look in your direction was enough to prove what was obvious anyway. The hickeys on your neck, your hair all messed up and the tiredness on your faces was proof enough. She even got a good view of the scratches all over Gunwoos back, as he walked out of the door.
As they sat down with their coffee outside, your sister whirled back around to face you.
"Both of them? All at once?" she hissed and you laughed softly.
"You're unbelievable..." she exhaled heavily, shaking her head. The two of you looked out onto the terrace where the two boxers were chatting, offering a picture like something out of an erotic novel. Upper bodies exposed, muscles glistening in the sun and hair a mess from sleep.
"For not wanting them, you like your bodyguards quite a bit now, don't you? I must admit they are quite pretty toys" sighed Hyun-Ju, and you cleared your throat with rosy cheeks.
"Maybe. Just don't tell Grandpa... Otherwise, he'll take them away from me."
When your eyes met, you grinned like an idiot and you two couldn't help but snorting with laughter at that.
Taglist:
@be0mluver @lola2004sworld @ilyilykaeya @badwicht @marked-unknown @peachy-aisha @etherealcherrie @mel-onthemoon @heisoemi
2K notes · View notes
periprose · 4 months ago
Note
Can I have a Logan Howlett x Angel!Fem!Reader where Logan sees the reader in the kitchen having a bit of a meltdown and uncomfortable feeling over holding a knife (for like, cooking reasons or smth) and he calms her down because the reader just doesn’t want to hurt anyone :(? I’d appreciate it thanks! (I’ve seen you wanted more Angel reader, so im here to reciprocate :3)
AHhhh this fits so well Anon (maybe unintentionally so, the previous fic had a little snippet about Angel's mom trying to stab her when she was young...) but I love your brain. I made it a bit longer and added some stuff and it's set before the previous Logan Gains a Guardian Angel fic (LGGA for short) so they're not together yet.
Knives Drip Chocolate (or, Logan Gains a Guardian Angel)
Tumblr media
Word Count: 2.9k
Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt with comfort, mutual pining, idiots in love, mild traumatic flashback stuff (but no violence)
LGGA Masterlist
Logan is always ready for a late-night snack.
It’s hard for him to feel full, a lot of the time– he didn’t always have the easiest access to food, and he’s known for a while, if there’s a brief period in his immortal-like life where he can just relax about food and supplies, he shouldn’t take that for granted. 
Plus with an accelerated healing factor, sometimes his body starts digesting food too quickly, leading to faster body repair, but nothing to feel satisfied about.
So he’s got tons of cravings. Something that you are constantly bothered about, even now, as Logan knocks on your door, asking yet again if you’d accompany him to the kitchen.
Not that you actually mind. Sometimes you think you’d follow Logan into hell if he asked nicely enough, despite your occasionally evasive attitude keeping him on his toes.
“Angel, please. I’m starving.” Logan’s grumpy complaints are muffled behind your door, and you wonder why a nearly 200 year old man needs you so badly, to be by his side, when he’s spent so long being a loner.
“I’m coming.” You yawn, pulling yourself out of your bed– Storm is your roommate, and she’s passed out, stone cold. You quickly finger comb your hair, and fix your giant t-shirt, so your shoulder isn’t so exposed.
Silly, because you know Logan doesn’t care.
It’s bad. It’s really, really bad, because you don’t want to get attached to Logan, not when he’s sure to toss you aside like he’s done with the rest of them eventually. But you can’t help yourself– Logan is easy to be around, he knows your fears and little quirks, and he has never treated you like you’re so different for being a little quiet, like him. 
You know everyone has noticed. When you open your bedroom door, and Logan stares at you for a moment– an unreadable, soft glance in his eyes, one that you could choose to ignore, but don’t, as you stare back at him– you know all the other X-Men see it. Some silly crush you have on him, that clearly confuses Logan himself as he shakes his head, and pulls you by the arm out of your room, your PJs and hair askew.
Logan himself looks good, you have to admit– wearing lazy sweatpants and a white tank-top, his arm muscles looking especially defined tonight– and you pull your arm away, embarrassed that you give into these feelings so easily.
He’s only ever going to be your best friend. Even now, there’s nothing romantic about the way Logan asks if you want a ham and cheddar sandwich, too. He’s just looking out for you. 
Jean, Scott, and Storm have literally asked you, more than once, if you and Logan had maybe slept together, or kissed, or anything that would be a culmination of some supposed lust, in which case you always laugh awkwardly and deny everything. 
Your excuse is that it’s deeper than that, and it’s one-sided. What would be the point of bringing it up if it would just end in heartbreak?
“Earth to Angel.” Logan shakes your arm, breaking your stride. “Hey, that’s kind of funny, isn’t it? You’re always up in Heaven. Daydreaming about who the hell knows what.”
“Haha, Logan.” You mockingly say in a deadpan voice. “What is it?”
“Your wings are flexing a little bit, again, like they’re about to open. They’re kind of pulsing.” He says it in a soft tone, ushering in some concern he has, and you find yourself wishing that you were someone normal, someone that Logan didn’t have to care so much about. 
It’s not that you’re not happy to have his concern, it’s just that you don’t know what to do with it. Thank him for it? You have never been used to people looking out for you.
“It’s fine. Sometimes I get muscle spasms, it’s nothing to worry about.” You mutter, knowing it has to do with anxiety, but Logan looks a bit unconvinced.
“Okay. But if you keep having weird tremors, I’m taking you to the hospital wing so you can get diagnosed.” Logan states, and you open your mouth to argue, but he tuts. “No arguing about this. Last thing we need is for you to die from stress or cancer or something.”
Your heartbeat quickens, not at the mention of cancer, but because Logan used we and now you’re just thinking about how you’re always together.
Not like that, though.
“Okay, Logan. I get it.” You shake your head. “I won’t die.” 
“Not yet. We got snacks to eat.” Logan agrees, as he leads you into the kitchen.
/
Logan’s got you working on making hot chocolate as he makes the sandwiches, pan-frying them till the cheese is hot and melty. 
It’s not really a common mix, you think, but you’re just happy to be helping.
“Careful. Milk boils over fast.” Logan comments from next to you, mostly focused on his own side of the stove, and you roll your eyes.
“I know that.” You retort, but as you look away from the stove for one second, the pot of milk nearly does boil over, and you swear, reducing the heat quickly.
Logan starts laughing. “Told you.”
You shove him lightly, and he has a stupid grin on his face, one where you know Logan takes such joy in teasing you at times. Like this is one of the greatest pleasures in life.
You move the milk over to the counter, to let it cool, and then remember something semi-important. 
“Logan? Don’t forget, Scott wanted extra ham for the Hawaiian pizza they’re making tomorrow–” As you’re reminding him, Logan wordlessly shows you the empty ham package, telling you that he used all of it for the sandwiches.
“You snooze, you lose.” Logan shrugs, and you close your eyes in partial defeat, trying not to laugh at his antics.
“I guess, but you never seem to lose, and Scott’s always chewing me out for your ‘mistakes.’” You point at yourself, tongue poking through the side of your mouth, and Logan raises his eyebrows. “Tell me: Am I snoozing, or are you just lucky that I take the blame?”
“Ah, Angel… you’re obviously asleep.” Logan smirks, and you scoff at his audacity, having expected a semi-apology from him. “No one ever said you had to take the blame for my snacks. You could’ve just told him it was Jean, and he wouldn’t have asked any questions.”
You blink at him. “Lying to our team’s leader aside, why Jean?”
“C’mon. Scott’s crazy over her, they’ve been together for however long, and he can never say no to her. It’s the perfect excuse– he wouldn’t even ask her about missing food, so not to offend his sweetheart.” Logan pauses, a thoughtful look taking over his features, and he scratches his chin. “I guess love really is blind.”
“Wow. You had that takeaway based on gaslighting both Scott and Jean? You really are an unfeeling old man.” You giggle, and Logan glances over at you, his face heating up at your laugh, a sweet sound that always pushes a warmth into his chest.
If Logan was honest, he understands Scott perfectly. Sure, he could play the part of the curmudgeonly old man, and lie to you– but in truth, he was doing that because he likes you.
Just like Scott. Logan likes you so much, that he would honestly lie to you just to protect your relationship– whether that be about missing food, or if you talk about some other dude someday, and he has to pretend he’s all ecstatic for you, as he often worries about. 
He knows it’s bad. And he doesn’t like it, either. Logan insists to himself, in pure self denial, that this love he has for you doesn’t exist, because he would rather be given even a little bit of your presence as a friend, than to be entirely shut out by you upon imminent rejection.
But even he knows he protests too much. Of course he loves you, how could he not?
Logan thinks of you as his personal guardian Angel. It’s silly, of course– but you’re the one who helps him make better choices, doing the right thing more often than not. He’s an idiot– you’re a beautiful genius of a woman, and it bothers him so deeply that you keep to yourself.
He looks over at you. You’re chopping up a bar of dark chocolate, and your gaze is intensely focused– Logan has seen the same expression on you when you’re beating up a bad guy. You’re thinking, murmuring something to yourself, probably thinking about hot chocolate.
Your eyes turn wide, glassy, and you inhale sharply.
Logan immediately comes to your side. “Angel?”
Logan’s voice doesn’t fully register to you.
The knife gleams in the low lighting of the kitchen, as you turn it over and over in your hand, dark brown chocolate smudging the blade, and then you look down to your palms.
Where your hands are covered in dark, melted chocolate, after you’ve been holding the chocolate bar to chop it up– the liquid is almost amber in hue. 
“...blood.” You whisper something unintelligible, but Logan catches the last word.
You retch to yourself, hyperventilating over the counter, back hunched over, the knife still clenched in your palm.
“Angel, hey–” Logan squeezes his way between the counter and your right arm, where your hand is holding the knife, and he firmly pulls it away from you, grabbing it blade-first without even thinking about it, and you gasp, shouting at him to get away.
Logan stops, at a loss for words. You’re trembling, you’re no longer holding the knife, but you can’t stop looking at your hands.
He grabs your arms a bit more gently, turning you towards him, and you’re lost in some train of thought that Logan can’t stop.
Mom sliced up one of my hands once… it’s been years, but it looked just like this.
Then I got her back, by accident… it was an accident, Angel.
“What’s wrong?” Logan looks down at you in fear, worry that something may actually be very wrong, and you haven’t told him a thing.
He thinks he shouldn’t have assumed you were always alright. He knows you aren’t– he just finds it difficult to surpass your avoidant attitude. He’s never seen you have a full blown panic attack like this before.
Your wings are subtly twitching again, folded against your back, but threatening to open up to full expanse, and you shake your head, lip quivering, as you look down at the floor.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” You utter so softly, so heartbreakingly tiny, and Logan feels himself turning cold at your words, wondering if you’d really done something that terrible.
With a kitchen knife, of all things. He wants to hug you firmly now.
He knows even if it was true– there’s no way that was your fault, no way Logan wouldn’t have sussed that out based on instinct. 
“It isn’t…” Logan starts, wanting to say it wasn’t your fault, but he doesn’t know how that will go over with you. “You’re not going to hurt anyone. Where is that coming from?”
“Just a bad memory.” You say with a shaky breath, the most information you’re willing to give him at this moment, and you know– you know– Logan is never going to be satisfied with that answer.
You don’t want to scare him off. This is the first time you could even say you have a best friend, and you don’t want Logan to pity you or feel like you were incapable of taking care of yourself. You don’t want him to see you like your mother did.
Logan frowns. Then, instead of asking you a question, he traces the back of your wings, which causes a shiver in your body.
You close your eyes, expecting to feel tense, scared, and horrified, but instead you feel calm, almost placid. Being touched by Logan makes you feel like everything is going to be alright.
Your wings stop shaking, and Logan hands you a wet paper towel. You wipe your chocolatey hands, which puts you at ease, seeing your clean hands again. 
“Sorry. I don’t mean to make you my caretaker.” You whisper, always worried about others’ perception of you, and Logan shakes his head.
“I don’t mind, Angel. As long as you’re alright.” Logan has a tentative look on his face, and you’re almost embarrassed, that you like being taken care of so badly, and he hugs you tightly, arms wrapped around your back, a near bone crushing hug that has you nestled in his chest, fit under his jaw as he places his head on top of yours.
Your heartbeat slows down. You’re not panicking any more, but it seems like Logan, too, is reaping some sort of benefit by being so close to you. He inhales deeply, and the sigh rumbles through his chest into you.
You could almost cry. You spent so much of your childhood never being close to anyone, and being held is cathartic in a way you can’t even describe.
Logan doesn’t let go until you do. Then he has the audacity to look a little sheepish, like he had done something un-Logan and uncool, and you almost feel pained, like you should push him away, and go to sleep on your own.
It’s such an odd feeling, to both want his concern, and to wish you never needed to do so.
You stare up at him, and Logan smiles, a soft smile that he hopes reads as comforting rather than a snarl, and you can’t help yourself for what you ask next.
“Could I sleep in your room?” You ask, biting back the immediate disclaimers of it’s okay if you don’t want to. “I’m just better when I’m around you.”
There’s also the thing of waking up Storm if you enter back in now, and explaining that you had yet another panic attack. She’ll be mad.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.” Logan murmurs, wondering if you meant to make that sound so devotedly sweet, something that causes his insides to seize a little.
He feels better around you, too.
You’re usually good at hiding this side of yourself from him– it’s another step deeper, another step too far into your relationship to take back– and now you worry you’ll never really be able to separate.
Logan ruffles your hair, and all is right again.
/
He makes you eat at least a bite of the sandwich, and sip a little hot chocolate– the rest is placed in the fridge for some other mutant to eat.
Logan won’t let you go to sleep without a meal, or in this case a few nibbles, if he can help it.
“Moods are worse on an empty stomach.” Logan grins, and you smile, feeling a little more at ease.
“You’re not you when you’re hungry.” You joke, and Logan rolls his eyes. 
“Yeah, save that for when we’re pilfering Kurt’s Snickers bars.” He snorts. 
Logan leads you to his room, oddly silent the entire time. It’s not that Logan isn’t typically quiet, it’s that it feels more tense. He’s keeping to himself, and he doesn’t seem to have anything against you– he has only a kind expression for you, when you meet his eyes.
Finally, you both arrive to his bedroom door. Logan is lucky– he doesn’t have to room with anyone– and you’ve been in here plenty of times.
Still, that doesn’t explain why it takes him a second to enter in the room, as you follow him in.
It’s sparsely decorated in here– one poster of the Calgary Flames is on Logan’s wall, and there’s a mug with random, assorted pens on his desk. His bed has never been filled with loads of stuffed animals and pillows like other X-Men (read: Jubilee) would have. There’s a pile of assorted flannels, jackets, and scarves hanging off a coat rack.
It’s comforting, though. Logan is a simple man, and you like being close enough to understand him, to see the small remnants of things he likes.
“Well. The bed’s there, if you’d like. Don’t let me stop you.” Logan points to the bed, and he starts walking towards the leather recliner next to the window.
“Logan. Stop.” You grab him by the arm, and he pauses, slightly scared, mostly enthused by what you’ll say next. “It’s okay with me if we sleep next to each other.”
“...Okay.” Logan watches as you climb into his bed, hoping it’s comfortable, and doing a weird thing of personally memorizing the way you lay and snuggle down, in case you never do this again.
You’re next to the wall, so Logan stays on his side, lying down close to the edge of the bed. And you’re keeping your distance– so is he.
You turn, and Logan is already looking at you. He glances away.
“Good night, Angel.” Logan utters softly, and with that, you turn to your side, to fall asleep.
/
When Logan wakes up, he freezes, so not to move you. Somehow, through out the night, you ended up snuggled around him, sprawled against his chest, your arms lightly wrapping around him.
He loves it. He’s glad to see he’s been useful for once– he gave you a good night’s sleep.
223 notes · View notes
sacrednova · 3 months ago
Text
Drive me home | Simon "Ghost" Riley | 2
fem!reader | In this story, a young woman mistakenly texts Simon "Ghost" Riley, thinking he's her Uber driver after a wild night out. Despite his gruff, reserved nature, Simon shows up. Contains fake screenshots with texts messages and calls!!!!
Part 1 | Part 3
The morning light cut through her curtains like knives, sharp and merciless, forcing her awake. She groaned, clutching her head, the pounding echoing from her temples down to her teeth. A full-blown hangover. Memories from the night before drifted in hazy fragments—drinks, her friends laughing, a text… and then…
She bolted upright, clutching her blanket, a flash of masked eyes and a black truck suddenly flooding her mind. Her stomach dropped.
Did I really let a stranger in a mask drive me home?
She staggered to the kitchen, pouring coffee with shaking hands, and tossed back an ibuprofen, hoping it would chase away the remnants of her dizziness and… her embarrassment. But as she sipped her coffee, the fog lifted, and memories came tumbling back.
Oh, God. The texts. She remembered asking him to drive faster, pleading with him to hurry. And then… had he really helped her into bed?
She scrambled for her phone, her fingers trembling as she typed.
Tumblr media
She sent the message, cringing as she relived every second of her clinginess and imagined his unimpressed, masked face watching her stumble around like a mess. A minute later, her phone buzzed with his reply.
Tumblr media
The bluntness of it hit her like a slap. She stared at the screen, heat creeping up her cheeks. Reckless? It was probably true, but coming from a guy who looked like… well, like he did?
Because, now that she thought of it, he was big. Broad shoulders and a looming presence, a voice that had sounded just a little rough even over text… She couldn’t remember much, but she remembered that.
Had she imagined it, or had she actually been driven home by a grumpy, masked hero who might, just might, be the most intriguing stranger she’d ever met?
Fueled by a sudden burst of boldness—maybe leftover tipsiness or maybe just the thrill of mystery—she fired back another text.
Tumblr media
The minutes ticked by in silence. Her screen stayed blank, his silence practically echoing in her hand. He either didn’t want to answer or found her question annoying. With a huff, she threw her phone aside and went about her day, determined to let it go.
But her thoughts kept circling back, replaying the memory of his silent, masked face and those few brief words in her text thread. She was somehow still thinking about it as she finally gave up and messaged her best friend.
Tumblr media
She winced, biting her lip as her fingers flew over her keyboard, spilling out the details.
Tumblr media
She blinked, chewing her lip, feeling that thrill rise again as she recalled his rough voice and the way he’d scolded her this morning for being “reckless.”
Tumblr media
She laughed, brushing it off. But as she glanced back at her phone and that blank screen, she felt her heart skip a beat. A stranger with a mask and a black truck. And maybe—just maybe—she hadn’t seen the last of him.
She stared at the screen, blinking a few times as if her phone might be playing tricks on her.
Tumblr media
Of course, her friend was right. It wasn’t like her to sit back and wait. Normally, she would’ve already sent him a second, third, maybe even a fifth text, just to see if he’d reply. But this time, there was something about him. Something that screamed take it slow, like a quiet warning in the back of her mind.
The idea of calling him, asking him out, was tempting, especially after all the teasing messages from her friend. But she wasn’t drunk anymore. She was sober, and that made all the difference. He was… different. The whole night had felt surreal, like a dream she wasn’t sure she wanted to dive back into just yet.
Her fingers hovered over the screen, uncertainty making her heart race. Maybe it was a sign that she should take a step back, give it time. Maybe.
And then, as if the universe was trying to tell her something, her phone buzzed in her hand.
The notification popped up.
Tumblr media
Her breath caught. It was just one word. His name. No explanation, no question. Just Simon. She stared at the text, her thoughts scrambling for meaning. Was he mad? Had he been ignoring her on purpose? Was this some sort of... invitation to keep going?
She sat there for a moment, phone in hand, as her thoughts ran wild. What do I say?
But there it was, the name. Simple. Straightforward. And all at once, the walls she’d been building around her emotions started to crumble. Maybe she wasn’t the only one unsure about what had happened. Maybe he, too, had questions.
She took a deep breath, deciding to take things one step at a time. For now, she would reply. But cautiously.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, but this time, she knew exactly what to say. She took a deep breath and started typing, choosing her words carefully, yet letting a hint of her usual humor shine through.
Tumblr media
She hit send and immediately set her phone down, nervous laughter bubbling up as she replayed her words in her head. It was funny, sincere, and hopefully just enough to show him she wasn’t taking herself too seriously—but also that she wasn’t brushing off his help. She felt a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment swirling inside her, waiting, not knowing if he’d even reply.
Seconds dragged on, each one heightening her anticipation, but then—her phone buzzed.
Tumblr media
She laughed, feeling a strange warmth at his message, despite the scolding tone she could practically hear in his words. He was blunt, yes, but he’d responded. She let her fingers dance over the keys again.
Tumblr media
And just like that, a grin broke across her face.
With a little giggle, she changed his contact name and tossed her phone onto the couch beside her.
Tumblr media
As she flopped down, staring up at the ceiling, she felt an unexpected rush of excitement bubbling up, like some teenager caught up in a silly crush. It was weird, she thought, the way one word, one text, could lift her mood like this.
Her cheeks warmed, and she let out a soft, embarrassed laugh at herself. What was it about this masked stranger that had her acting like this? She didn’t know, but for the first time in a long time, she let herself just enjoy the feeling.
[PART 3]
182 notes · View notes
satoruxx · 4 months ago
Note
Erm. The brain rot took over.
Does hybird!Toji's tail wag when he's near us?????? And does he let us touch/groom it considering its a rlly sensitive part and he trusts us??????????????
OK YUP YUP THANK YOU FOR LISTENING.
(Your honour he gives my life)
YESSSS BRING FORTH THE BRAINROT NONNIE I'M HERE TO LISTEN :3333
tee hee yes it doessss !! toji's very subtle about it now, but it becomes more frequent once he gets comfy and actually starts falling for you !! there are a few moments in the past chapters where he will notice his tail slowly going back and forth, but refuses to acknowledge it bc wtf??? curse his animal body for betraying him like this.
but in the near future, he will allow himself the freedom to let it wag. especially if you're both joking around or he's trying to push your buttons, you bet he's subconciously doing it. it's just a sign that he's truly letting loose around you :(((
(that and he's quite literally obsessed with you and everything you do makes him so stupidly giddy.)
toji's so funny too because he will give you the most abrupt and grumpy responses and yet his tail is literally thumping against the ground... like bro who are you fooling??
(try calling him out for it and he will put you in a headlock.)
as for touching/grooming, honestly i don't think he would let you do it now. even once you guys are comfortable and shit i think he still has a lot of reservations about people touching him. and especially a part that is so sensitive and vulnerable... i think he'd rather take care of it himself y'know?? BUT once your relationship is in full swing??? oh babe touch him wherever you want he was always only yours anyway.
once you're dating him he quite literally will trust you with his entire being. wanna wear knives on your feet and walk all over him?? do it, he's laying down for you already.
i just think wolf!toji will always have that reserved stance with humans, and it takes the confirmation that you actually do love him and won't hurt him for him to finally allow you that privilege.
also i think a big thing for him would be the implications behind allowing you access to a part of him that is so vulnerable?? the idea makes his head spin... i think a lot of his reluctance also comes from embarassment bc god knows he does not want to lose his shit around you....
(and he will for sure.)
167 notes · View notes
milswrites · 1 year ago
Text
Hobbies Part 4.
~Azriel X Reader~
Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?
Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader
Series masterlist
Warnings: tiny tiny bit of angst but this is mainly fluff :)
Notes: Thank you guys for all the love on this series! I love reading all your comments <3
“No Azriel! That’s way too much sugar!”
Frustrated, Azriel sighed, halting his pouring of the sugar into the mixing bowl and heavily slamming the bag onto the counter, where it fell over and sugar spilled out of the bag covering his kitchen top.
Trying to keep his cool, Azriel replied through gritted teeth, “Fine. You do it then! This is a lot more work than I thought it would be anyways”.
Y/N placed her small hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him, giving it a gentle and reassuring squeeze. It did the job, Azriel breathing in deeply through his nose and immediately apologising for his outburst.
“It’s alright,” she smiled, removing her hand from him so she could start to clean up the mess he had made, “it’s not that big of a deal. I just didn’t want you to rot your pretty little teeth with all that sugar.”
Sighing, Azriel moved to help Y/N, “I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this, you would have been better off doing it alone.”
“Nonsense, the point of this is that you’re trying something new. It wouldn’t be very good if you gave up this easy”
Azriel would never understand how Y/N could always be so happy and calm, especially when dealing with his bad moods and sudden angry outbursts constantly ruining their time together. No matter how much Azriel tried to shove her away or how many times he got mad at her, Y/N was always there, smile on her face, a soothing presence to help draw him back from the darkness. Y/N was an angel sent by the mother.
He couldn’t imagine anyone else he knew being patient enough to teach him how to bake, but here Y/N was. She had turned up at his door, bag of goods in hand and announced they were going to make a cake together before matching into his flat.
Azriel was glad he had started opening his curtains and fixed the holes his knives had left in the wall, which as the days went by started looking a little less like Rhysand’s face. He had even moved the sketchbook and pencils Y/N had gifted him off the floor of his flat. He wouldn’t have liked to have seen her distraught face if she had entered his flat only to have seen them gathering dust on the floor.
So here they were, squashed together in his small kitchen, attempting to bake a cake. Once the sugar was cleared, they continued with the recipe. Only this time Y/N hovered her hands close to Azriel’s whenever he poured something into the bowl to ensure there weren’t any more mishaps. Though he wasn’t sure how much that helped, the ghost of her touch making his hands shake nervously.
Batter complete, Y/N carefully transferred it into the container for baking and placed it into the oven. “Now we wait” she hummed, licking the cake mixture from her fingers before removing her apron, Azriel’s eyes transfixed on the movement.
“Uh, would you like to go sit down while we wait?” Azriel awkwardly stuttered, as if not sure how to converse now that there was a break in activity.
Y/N completely unaware of the awkward atmosphere that Azriel had imagined, happily skipped over to his living room before hopping onto one of his sofas, bring her legs up and tucking them under her. Azriel followed like a lost puppy and made to sit on the same sofa as her before he changed his mind, not wanting to make Y/N uncomfortable and sat in the chair opposite.
“I see you’ve taken up decorating,” Y/N teased, sight set on the wall where the holes at once been, where Azriel had done a terrible job of attempting to plaster them back up, “maybe don’t quit your job. I don’t really see a future for you in interior design.”
Azriel acknowledged her joke with a scoff but failed to reply. Instead, his focus was on Y/N’s dress now she had removed the apron which had been hiding it since she arrived at his door. Her dress was a lovely shade of cobalt blue, similar to that of his siphons, and was different to the normally bright colours she wore that reflected the usual Day Court attire. If he squinted he could trace the delicate silver threads that trailed over the material depicting swirls and markings that reflected that of the Illyrian tattoos he and his brothers bore. Azriel shook his head, no, the details were too small for him to make out from this distance, he was just seeing what he wanted to see.
“Your dress is pretty, is it new?” He asked wanting to sate his curiosity. At this Y/N blushed a deep shade of red and sat up a little straighter, “oh…um yes I had some free time earlier this week and I was feeling inspired so I made a few new things”.
“It looks… it’s great” Azriel cursed himself for giving such a poor response but he was too stunned by his shadows whispering to him that Y/N had made it with him in mind. His shadows message was what drew him back to reality. There was no way in hell that Y/N would use him as inspiration. His shadows, though they weren’t normally, were wrong.
Wanting nothing more than to distract himself from his swimming thoughts and shadows teasing that Y/N admires and appreciates him, Azriel joked, “no dress for me?” If possible Y/N turned an even deeper shade of red, “I don’t think you’d fit in this Az.”
Still unable to tear his eyes from her dress, which hugged her curves so beautifully it was Y/N’s turn to change the topic, “so how have you been enjoying the Day Court?”
“It’s not the Night Court, but it’s not bad. It has some redeeming qualities.” At his words Azriel’s eyes trailed up Y/N’s body, over her slightly exposed chest and finally stopped when they met her eyes which were staring right back at him.
Hiding their unspoken words with humour must have been something both Azriel and Y/N shared as she replied, “I’m suprised you didn’t burst into flames at the first sign of daylight. Isn’t it always dark where you’re from?”
“What?” Azriel laughed, thoughts of Y/N’s dress long gone. “You think it’s always dark in the Night Court?”
Embarrassed Y/N stutters, “Well… it’s just… it’s called the Night court!”
By this point Azriel had lost it, tears forced their way out from his eyes as he laughed and laughed at Y/N’s foolishness. Y/N looked as if she didn’t know whether to be amused by Azriel’s reaction or utterly distressed at how stupid she had made herself appear in front of him.
“You get nighttime in the day court don’t you?” Azriel spoke in-between laughs. Now defensive upon realisation that she really had been a fool, Y/N tried to help her situation, “well it’s not as if I’ve ever been to another court”.
Azriel’s laughter stopped at this, he forgets that not everyone has been to as many places as he had. That many people never actually saw the outsides of their own court. That was one fortune of his job role as spymaster.
“What do you even do for Helion?” Azriel asked, realising that he didn’t even know. It was easy to forget that Y/N was sent here by Helion, that she wasn’t spending time with Azriel out of her own free will no matter how much he wished for it to be so.
“I am a courtier. I deal internally within the Day Court. Make sure the people are happy, give their feedback to Helion.”
“So your whole job…is just to make people happy?”
“It’s a little more than that but yes I make people happy. Can’t be doing my job very well if you haven’t realised that though”
There it was again. The horrible reminder to Azriel that you weren’t here for pleasure, it made something ugly grow inside of him, the realisation that you were only pretending to be his friend.“Right. I forget you’re being paid to be here.”
“Actually no, I’m not. I took the day off today” Y/N said it dismissively, as if it wasn’t important.
But to Azriel, to him it meant everything. Y/N had taken the day off and had decided out of her own free will that she wanted to come and spend her precious time off with him. Azriel knew from his own count how few and far between getting days off are. Hope glimmered in his chest that perhaps whatever this thing growing between them was, she felt it too. That Y/N wanted to explore it just as badly as Azriel did.
The distance between them suddenly felt too much. Azriel shifted forward, all senses telling him he needed to get closer to the woman sat on the sofa before him.
He wondered if he asked the question, asked why she was here, she’d be honest and tell him it was for him. Tell him she wanted him just as badly as he found himself wanting her.
But of course, as soon as Azriel opened his mouth, as if knowing what he was about to say, Y/N jumped to her feet interrupting the moment. “Oh cauldron the cake!” It was only now Azriel noticed the burning smell slowly creeping through the flat, the two had been so engrossed in each other, in their conversation, that they hadn’t realised just how long they had been sat there.
Azriel launched on his own feet, tailing Y/N as she sped to the kitchen and tore the cake from the oven, the top of which was black and smoking.
“Well at least it’s not on fire” Azriel said and at the same time Y/N huffed “so much for a birthday cake.”
She said it quiet. So quiet that Azriel probably wouldn’t have caught it if it wasn’t for his shadows repeating it to him as they whispered in his ear.
“Your birthday? You wanted to spend your birthday with me?” Azriel was caught off guard with this information. Y/N, who had been stood there blowing on the cake as if it would suddenly catch on fire, stopped what she was doing and casually replied “yeah?” So casually in fact that she acted as if it was obvious that she would want to spend the day with Azriel, holed up in his flat baking together.
“But what about your family? Friends?” Azriel was still in disbelief that someone would choose to be with him.
“No family. And I guess I work so much and spend so much time making sure everyone else is happy that I forget about myself, so no friends really” she shrugged, as if it didn’t really bother her and Azriel supposed he could relate. He didn’t have any other friends outside the inner circle. And yet where Azriel was cold and moody, even with his found family, Y/N was alone and she acted as if she was the happiest person on the planet. Every time Azriel found himself understanding the Day Court woman, he learnt something new that completely altered what he thought of her.
“Come on are we going to decorate this or not! I hope your cake decorating skills are better than your wall ones” Y/N smiled up at him, “Ooh I totally forgot, I should have given it to you earlier, don’t want to get messy” she began routing through the bag she had brought, until she must have found what she was looking for as she pulled out a spare apron. An apron which was the same shade of bright yellow as her own.
Azriel opened his mouth to protest but his traitorous shadows reminded him that Y/N had decided to spend her birthday with him and urged him to go along with what she says to keep her happy. With a grumble Azriel put on the sun-coloured item, a flat look on his face as he glanced down at Y/N who was positively beaming.
“The mother sent you to torture me didn’t she” Azriel was sure he said it in relation to the uncharacteristically bright clothing she had made him wear but now, eyes hovering over her body once more, he wondered if he was talking more about the agony of being in her presence and not acting on the feelings stirring within him.
“You caught me”, she giggled playfully as she busied herself preparing the ingredients needed for the icing, “I was sent here to make your life miserable”
Unable to stop the words coming from his mouth Azriel couldn’t help but say, “well you’re not doing a very good job of that” That earned him a wink and an air kiss from Y/N, Azriel found himself wishing to know what her lips would feel like elsewhere. What they would feel like on his.
Thankful that Y/N had chosen to make the icing herself, Azriel watched on as she stirred the bowl, happily chatting away to him about her week and all the people she had helped at work.
It was in this domestic bliss that he allowed himself to dream. To imagine what his life would be like if Y/N was from the Night Court. He imagined coming home from work to find her in the kitchen baking, a kiss on his cheek in greeting as she tells him all about his day, about the dresses she made. It was a life Azriel could never have, not while they both had loyalties to their own courts, but he allowed himself to dream.
A tentative touch to his hand pulled him back to reality. Y/N was holding the tips of his fingers, face full of concern as she looked up at him, “Are you ok?”
Azriel’s breath caught in his throat at their closeness, heat crossing his cheeks, “Yeah, never better. Are we going to start?” Y/N’s smile returned but her eyes still flashed with worry, “Show me what you got bat boy.”
The cake wasn’t pretty. A mash of different brightly coloured icing mixed together in an unorganised mess. Some of which was smudged on their hands, faces and aprons as they struggled to try and make the cake look appetising after it had been burnt. Now they both stood admiring their hard work which stood lopsided on the kitchen counter.
“I guess we eat it now right?” Y/N said, reaching over for the knife on the top to cut into it.
“One minute” Azriel’s words stopped her reaching and he rooted through the cupboard above him looking for something. “Aha” he said victoriously, pulling out a single candle, the type made for lighting a room, not a birthday cake. But all the same, Azriel stuck it in the middle of the uneven cake and lit the flame. It wasn’t perfect but Azriel as proud, proud he had made something for once instead of the usual destruction he leaves in his wake.
“Make a wish” he spoke softly, traces of a smile creeping onto his face as he watched Y/N hold her icing-stained hair back as she leaned forward to blow the candle out, closing her eyes tightly as if she was wishing really hard.
“What did you wish for?” He asked, something stirring inside him.
“It won’t come true if I tell you silly” Y/N said as she plucked the candle from the cake so she could serve it. Cutting them both a slice they lifted it to their lips, each taking a bite.
It was the most disgusting thing Azriel had ever tasted and it was most definitely his lack of baking skills to blame. Y/N’s eyes bulged and she grabbed a napkin before spitting the cake in her mouth out into it. Azriel, not quite as ladylike, spat it onto the plate in his hands.
“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday cake” Azriel anxiously said as he watched Y/N help herself to water and start chugging it in an attempt to get rid of the taste. She shook her head, swallowing the last gulp of her water before saying, “it was perfect Az. Thank you for spending the day with me.”
Realising that they had finished doing what she had come for and that she would now take her leave, an odd sense of fear sparked in Azriel. Fear that he didn’t want the day to end, that he could spend forever surrounded by the vanilla-scented presence of this beautiful woman before him. So Azriel took a leap.
“Would you like to go out? For your birthday of course”
Y/N’s eyes snapped to his and for a moment Azriel was worried she was going to say no. But then the biggest grin he had ever seen on her face broke out and Y/N squealed, “Yes!”
“Great! Great!” panic now filled Azriel as he had no idea what they were actually going to do, “do you…do you mind if I have a few hours to come up with something?”
Y/N agreed, saying how it would be best to wash the icing from her hair and change first, and so she packed her bag and walked to the door to leave. Azriel, opened it for her the promise of seeing her later on his lips when Y/N leaned up and placed a gentle kiss onto his cheek causing his jaw to drop in shock.
A shy giggle left her mouth at his reaction, her sweet voice filling his red ears as she said, “I’ll see you soon Az” His eyes chased after her as she left, travelling down to linger on her beautiful dress once more, the silver markings, his markings, glistening in the light as she walked.
Azriel stayed rooted to the spot, staring into space at the corner of the corridor where she had just left. Unsure of how long he had been there, his senses returned when his neighbour walked round the corner, jumping in shock at seeing the large Illyrian warrior stood there in a frilly yellow apron. Azriel grunted and slammed the door shut.
Part 5
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes: would you guys like to vote where Azriel takes her in the next part or would you like to leave it up to me?
Enjoy the fluff while it lasts there’s still lots of angst to come :)
Taglist:
@thelov3lybookworm @minnieoo @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @justvibbinghere
@darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @honeybeeboobaa @willowpains
(I think that’s everyone but if I’ve accidentally missed you let me know)
553 notes · View notes
wonderlandwalker · 1 year ago
Text
Cherished Moments | Finnick Odair x Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox
Summary: Finnick is trying to get you to relax and, well, it works maybe a bit too much.
Content Warnings/Tags: Mostly fluff, small injury, lovesick Finnick, grumpy!reader x sunshine!Finnick, insinuations of violence, no use of y/n
Word Count: 1.2k
Requested by Anon: I love your writing!!! What do you think a grumpy reader × sunshine finnick would be like? Love the back cat gf golden retriever bf trope haha and I feel like finnick would be obsessed with someone who was mean to everyone BUT him! Feel free to ignore if you don't feel inspired, I'll read everything you write anyway!!
A/N: Can someone pls let me know if they actually manage to find the request after I've posted them I have no clue if these are getting through. Ngl this one was a struggle for me but once I found the right idea it came pouring out. Do they even have darts in the Hunger Games universe? Well, they do now. Keep sending me requests I genuinely love doing them!!
Tumblr media
“Come on, I know you can do it! I’ve seen you throw knives, this is pretty much the same thing, only smaller.” Finnick was trying to encourage you, but you weren’t easy to win over. 
“I’m telling you, I can’t. This is just different. The darts are so much smaller and lighter, it throws me off balance.” You were at a party in District 13, well, calling it a party would be generous. 
“Just try. I’ll help you come on. I promise it’ll be fun.” He couldn't hide his smile at your antics, but he also knew if anyone was able to convince you, it was him.
“Fine, but if something goes wrong it's on you.” You looked him in the eyes, and could see a spark of light inside them, and you wouldn't admit it, not with all the other people in the room, but it warmed your heart a little.
“It’ll be fine, what’s the worst that could happen” He asked you, and you almost scoffed at the question.
“I could hit someone, and then everyone will hate me even more than they already do”
“They don't hate you, they just don't know you the way I do.” Whenever someone would ask him what he saw in you, he would always be dumbfounded. Sure, you had a hard exterior, but when someone has gone through as much in their life as you did, were you really to blame? No, he didn't understand the question, because, to him, you were perfect. Whether you were sulking at breakfast for having to leave the bed or smiling at him because they were serving your favourite dish for dinner, he would take anything you gave him. 
“Are you telling me that you, the victor of the 70th Hunger Games, are afraid of hurting someone with a tiny dart?” He was challenging you, and it was working.
“I'm not afraid, I just don't want anything to go wrong.” The way your voice softened around him made his heart beat faster for you and sometimes, he swore you knew and were doing it on purpose.
“You won’t, just throw it straight into the board.”
Finnick is standing behind you, grinning like he’s just won some sort of lottery while he guides your arm up for you, you can feel his breath on your neck before he whispers “Come on love, do it for me.” You’ve never been able to deny him, to your own annoyance at times, so you do as he says.
The dart flies through the air, and it doesn't hit the board, but it comes relatively close. So you throw a second dart and it hits the board, but you don’t manage to score any points just yet. As you throw another one, it manages to hit the board, but only for a little while before it falls to the floor. You throw your hands up in defeat before saying “See, told you I couldn't do it.” But Finnick hasn't given up, in you, he would never give up.
“That’s nonsense, you just have to try again, be patient.” He walks over to collect your darts and hands them back to you. He steps behind you again, guiding you into the right position before speaking.
“Just close your eyes, imagine you’re throwing them at Snow.” It makes you laugh and he can feel your muscles relax. He would always feel so proud of himself when he made you laugh, he didn't mind that you don't do it often, it would only feel like so much more of an achievement.
You do as he says, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath right before you throw the dart, hitting it right in the bullseye. You throw another, hitting the bullseye again. But you miss the board with the next one when Finnick leaves a small kiss on your shoulder, and your breath hitches. You can feel his body moving from behind you, and focus to throw another dart. It’s only when you hear an exclamation of pain coming from right in front of you that you snap open your eyes, you would recognize it anywhere. In front of you was Finnick, standing right next to the board with one of his hands clutched in the other, and when you take a closer look, you can see the dart that is stuck in the back of Finnick's hand.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry are you okay.” He would never tell you this, but he doesn't even mind that it happened, seeing you being sweet on him so openly, it makes him forget anything even happened in the first place.
“I'm fine sweetheart.” there is a strain in his voice, and he knows you can hear it too from the way your brows furrow in regret. You knew he wasn't trying to be tough for you, no, you had moved past that years ago. he was trying to not make you worry, it was something he would always do no matter how much pain he was in. But you were worried, because in contrast to all those other times, this time it was your fault that he was hurt. It never phased you much when someone would get shot, it never phased you much as you heard the canons each night in the arena signalling another death, not in the way it phased other people, but this, this broke you.
“Finnick you are not fine, there is a fucking dart inside your hand and it's my fault.”
“Well, most people don’t throw a fourth dart sweetheart." He says, and he chuckles a little, but you don't hear it in your state of worry.
“I am so sorry I-” You were choking up over your guilt, and while he loved getting to see your raw emotions, this one he didn't enjoy.
“Hey, no, I'm sorry too, don't get yourself worked up over this. It's just a dart, I will be fine. Why don’t you go get me a first aid kit?” He really was fine, and he could have gotten it himself, but he knew how much you would get in your own head when you didn't have anything to do in these kinds of situations. 
Once you come back and help patch him up, he looks up at you and you catch his gaze. A smile crosses his face in a way he knows his cheeks are going to hurt.
“Why are you smiling” you ask, confused at his glee in a situation like this.
“Because I know you care about me. You don’t always show it, and you don’t have to, because moments like these I’ll cherish forever.” His eyes are sparkling as he looks into yours, he swears he could just stand here and look at you for the rest of his life. 
“Oh, would you shut up already” you tell him while swatting his hand away from your face and rolling your eyes.
“You can’t tell me to shut up, you threw a dart into my hand.” He’s still grinning like an idiot, and it's infecting you. One of the corners of your mouth lifts up, and it's subtle, but he catches it, how could he not with how intently he is watching you. You’re back to your old dynamic, but he loves it just as much.
783 notes · View notes
karlachismylife · 3 months ago
Note
Love this blog you will find me rummaging through your writing like a raccoon in a trash can muwah
Oooh raccoon spottings!! Only the juiciest trash for you, fluffy comrade. This blog loves you back! Since I have been reblogging and doing ask replies a lot lately, feel free to use the masterlist, it's more or less full, only some little things get left in the "juju's grumbles" or "juju's replies" tags. But I reblog a lot of amazing creators, authors, writers and artists, so I do recommend scrolling and checking them out too!!!
And here, have some task force 141 discovering a raccoon in their home headcanons. I even went and found @thecutestgrotto 's raccoon dividers because how could I not, really.
Tumblr media
Ghost hears rustling and is immediately on high alert. You're not home, and he would've recognized you regardless of how well you try to be sneaky, so this means there's an intruder. And this intruder chose a home with the scariest guard dog of them all.
Simon is stealth itself as he reaches for his tacticle knives. He could've gone for the gun, but that's too much noise and unwanted attention, would be better if no one knew he has it, since it's for emergencies. And for now this doesn't seem like an emergency, because you're not in danger and it seems like whoever broke in is slow, alone and not very confident in what they're doing.
As Simon stalks through the dark hall towards the back door where he heard the noise, he also realizes - that intruder is small. Could it be a kid? Stupid teenager breaking and entering for a bet? Or someone young and troubled to the point of desperately needing any sourse of cash? Or maybe it's a little one that got lost and just stumbled into someone's home in search of help? By the time Ghost actually reaches the now quiet room, he's already thinking he's going to be giving a stern talking, not a beating.
And then he finally turns the lights on, ready to pounce, and sees a dark fat blob frozen under a chair, beady black eyes staring at what poor racoon can only assume to be the apex predator.
"Bloody hell, where did ya come from, ya trash rat?" He's already assessed the room and made sure it was nothing more than the raccoon, so he sheaths the knife and crouches with a grunt, trying to grab the bugger by its scruff and shove him out of the door - it must've been the cat flap that let it inside. The raccoon, however, finally bolts. But not back to where it came from, no; it buries intself under the kitchen counter next. "Come back ya fookin' vermin, this ain't your hose, get the fuck outta here, bloody Zorro!"
When you finally come home, you're met with a sweaty, grumpy Simon with an icepack on his head, furniture moved around and traces of a proper chase scene. And a raccoon squished between the wall and the couch, nervously fidgeting with the mophead that somehow ended up there without a handle attached.
"Did you even try to lure him out with treats?" - "Fat bastart snatched a whole packet of nuts and bolted. Your turn now."
Tumblr media
Price is having some fresh air outside, also known as lounging in a garden chair with his cigar, a pint and a nice book, early in the morning. He actually wasn't expecting to wake up this early, but he just recently got from a long deployment, so his sleep is messed up. Knowing he won't be able to fall back sleep, he decided not to disturb your own sleep, put on his big robe and went to catch sunrise beams. It's a little chilly, big droplets decorating all the greens and pinks of the garden - and the rising sun only makes the flowers look even more rosy as the tiny water diamonds sine and sparkle.
Bird song gets interrupted by snoring really quickly - the peace and serenity of morning garden, everything planted together with you and well taken care of, works on John like a lullaby, and he dozes off peacefully, his cigar snuffed out by a timin breeze, book flat on his chest and his hat slowly sliding down onto his eyes, protecting them from the sunlight. He's sleeping so soundly, even his snores aren't that loud, so the nature just accepts him as a part of the ever-changing landscape for today. Insects landing on him, searching for food and moving on without as much as tickling him. Wet grass sticking to his garden slippers and slowly drying of like that. Little midges getting stuck in his beard, poor thrashing creatures.
There's also someone bigger traversing the morning grounds, returning from the long night of searching for food. Not so stealthy under the sun, a dark shadow trots along the lush rose bushes that provide nice cover still. The hunt must've been not too successful, furry tummy still hungry and big tail dragging defeatedly.
But there's something new in this garden, something that wasn't there the previous day. And it brought something to put on the garden table - where food is often put. That's something worth investigatig, right?
When it turns out the little plate and big glass on the table only have something truly yucky in them (she checked really well), she has no other choice but to look in the chair. Good thing she has some help to recruit.
That's what explains the picture you see, once you wake up and go to look for your husband sleepily, only to find him snoring peacefully with a hat on his face and a whole family of raccoons rummaging through the pockets of his bathrobe and trying to climb up his hairy leg to see what's under the loosely tied belt.
Tumblr media
There's raccoon infestation problem in your backyard. Well, it's not a real infestation, you already know that it's just one quite skinny and hungry-looking raccoon coming to rummage through your trash, scattering it around. Even when you stop putting it out, that poor critter keeps coming, bringing dirt onto your porch and sometimes even digging under your plants. You don't want to hurt the animal that's clearly just looking for food, so after some time you just give up and ask Gaz to deal with it.
You married him for his smarts too, you know, he should be able to think of something.
He obviously agrees, gives you a reassuring kiss on your temple and beams with pride just from knowing you think of him being capable to deal with any problem you have, because that's exactly what he's there for, he tells you. And he's confident he can do it, honestly, he has dealt with terrorists and complicated mechanisms, a starving shabby raccoon can't possibly be harder to deal with. You trust that confidence, you trust your husband, so you just leave him to it and forget about the problem.
Weeks pass without any real disturbance - at some point Kyles starts putting the trash outside again, and since it's not getting scattered all over the porch and garden again, you figure he has chased the raccoon away successfully. You would actually like to know how and thank him properly, but since he's still not mentioning it, you decide that he's still testing the results and will come report like a good boy once he's sure that little striped tail won't show up anymore.
You don't even put two and two together when one day, quite early in the morning, Kyle wakes you up with hot kisses behind your ear.
"Hey, angel. Sorry to wake you up, I jus' wanna show ya something. Let me carry you, a'right?" As soon as you stir, still warm and soft, eyes barely able to flutter open, he shushes you and stops you from getting from under the blanket. With a kiss on every eyelid, you get wrapped up in a blanket burrito and curl up in Kyle's arms, sleepy head resting on his shoulder as he carries you over to the door.
He places you on the porch rocking chair carefully, sealing the blanket around our feet so the cool morning air won't bite your toes, and crouches down next to you silently. Still half asleep, you can't even tell whether you wait for long or not, but your eyes try to close back, when suddenly something catches your attention.
It's the slightly more rounded raccoon - still same pattern on his tail, though - trotting directly to your porch with purpose in his stride. You blink, unsure what you're looking at, when that little buddy stops in front of the steps and looks at Kyle, who gives him a nod. Swiftly, the raccoon runs up the stairs and approaches the trash can. carefully, he slides off the lid with its tiny hands, and rummages inside. Just a single wrapper falls out of the whole bunch of things.
Once the raccoon finds some scraps he's been looking for and munches on them, he sniffs around, finds that wrapper and puts it back into the trash can. Then turns back to Kyle, who has a hard time hiding his sly grin as he looks at you, now completely awake and wide-eyes, from the corner of his eyes.
"Nope." Kyle makes an arching gesture with his palm. And the raccoon listens to him, turning to the trash can again and pulling the covering lid back over it. Only then he gets an approving nod from your husband, and just like that, leaves.
There's a moment of silence between you two as you watch that grey shadow disappear under the fence to your neighbours.
"Kyle, did you actually train a raccoon to throw its trash away?.."
Tumblr media
You get a feeling when you push your key into the lock and open the door.
It's inexplainable, intuitive, gut feeling that you can't really put a finger on. Something's not right, but it's not the spooky dangerous "not right" like if you found your entrance wide open. No, it's a gnawing suspicion, an anticipation you get, trying to warn you something happened at home while you were away. Same feeling dog owners get when they're not being greeted by eagerly jumping pups because someone has chewed the owner's best pair of shoes up of broke their favourite vase.
Taking into consideration that you're living with John Soap MacTavish, it's either that or he's preparing to prank you.
But no, the TV's on and you hear distinct sounds of snacks being downed by one Scottish specimen, a glass or a bowl clinking from being touched by his clumsy big fingers, so he's not hiding behind the corner to jump at you. The apartment doesn't look trashed too, no hastly wiped blood splatters on the floor, no sight of ambulance or the police at the entrance into the apartment building. Looks like Johnny did't touch his street clothes or shoes either, so he probably didn't run out to throw away evidence like that one time when he forgot he started cooking something with caramel and had to throw away the whole pot.
Everything seems normal. Just your husband being so engolfed by Pocahontas that he doesn't hear you rustling with yout clothes and jiggling keys at the entrance, otherwise he would run out with crumbs of whatever it is he's snacking on in the corners of his mouth and grab you as he always does, spinning you around and looking like his whole life just regained its meaning because you're finally...
Wait. Since when is Johnny a Disney princess fan?
Last time you checked, the only one he approved off was Mulan, even Brave falling under critisism for historical inaccuracies he took too close to heart.
Carefully and sneakily, you tiptoe into the sitting room, going back and forth on whether to spook him as a revenge for the last time or not, but before you can decide, you get noticed.
There's a beat of silence between you, stuck in a creeping pose, Johnny with his hand still in a bowl of little apple slices, and a raccoon. Also sitting with a half-eaten apple slice in front of a slightly mudded water bowl. On the couch. In your living room.
"Soap."
Two pairs of eyes blink at you.
"MacTavish."
He slowly retracts his hand from the bowl and licks his lips, There's apple juice staining his stubble.
"Johnny. What the fuck is a raccoon doing sitting on the couch."
"We're hanging oot."
The raccoon finally moves and shoves the apple slice into its mouth, chewing juicily and reaching its paws in a asking manner. Distracted by that, Soap turns back to the critter and fishes a new slice out of the bowl, which the raccoon immediately snatches from your husband's hand and dips into the water bowl before crunching in the fruit.
"Johnny. Where did you find it."
"They just climbed oanto th' balcony!"
"Johnny, we're living on the 15th floor, how did it-" - "Nae "it", bonnie, 's "they". Ah asked. And their name's Rob Roy."
You fall silent again, watching Johnny hover protectively over the bloody non-binary raccoon. You wouldn't believe the balcony story, but Soap clearly looks like he hasn't left the apartment since you went out.
"It... they probably are someone's pet, Johnny. That ran away. Did you check? Ask around?"
"Ah did." He pouts at you as if he's offended you even doubt his ability to think of such logical solution. "Thay're nae. Jus' chose us, bonnie."
You feel your heard stutter at the implication behind those words and shake your head, pointing at the fiends on your couch.
"No-no-no, John MacTavish, we are not keeping that bloody thing. If it's a wild animal, it doesn't belong in an apartment! We weren't even ready for a cat, what raccoon, Johnny, the fuck you think it will-"
"But thay're cute! Look at 'em, bonnie! Ye wanna throw poor bastart away to starve and freeze tae death?!"
You and Rob Roy make similar pained sounds when Johnny grabs that fat fucker and shoves them into your face. Yeah, the raccoon is cute as hell.
It's Johnny's puppy eyes that do you in, though.
78 notes · View notes
greetingfromthedead · 5 months ago
Text
🔞 Spicy* Collection 🔞
*the extra explicit stuff AKA Horny Jail
Tumblr media
All these are xF!Reader stories! This collection is only for the more explicit stuff (descriptions, word use), there are milder smut fics in my Masterlist.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Plantheat (Vash, 4.3k) - About once a year Vash's heat rolls around and while he is worried about the position it puts you in, you enjoy all the positions.
Tumblr media
Plantheat (Knives, 5.8k) - Knives calls on you, a scientist whose interests in him are beyond just scientific, to him with the offer to help him get rid of his undesired affliction plaguing him once a year. Ensues a power play and a lot of rutting.
Tumblr media
The Favorite (Sinister!Vash, 4.7k) - It's the darkest timeline. Knives succeeded in remaking his brother, twisting everything Vash used to be into a sinister monster who relishes in violence and pain. Vash has a garden on women to cultivate his seed, yet you have always been his favorite and his sinister ways have rubbed off on you.
Tumblr media
AU Drop of Lust (M/M/F ft Vashwood, 5k) - as Vash and Wolfwood have their way with each other, they accidentally end up summoning you into their world, but you don't get to watch them for long as they are drawn to you and include you in their fun. You make sure they both understand just who you are by bringing them unmatched pleasure and allowing them to fuck you into heavenly bliss.
Tumblr media
AU Ignorance Brings Bliss (Vash, 2.6k) - Vash wants to take care of you by giving you the option to use the large Roman style bath and bringing you food, but due to some misunderstandings, you both end up wet and wild, finding alternate uses for some of the food items he brought with him.
Tumblr media
AU Seduction (Knives, 3.2k) - You seek a warm embrace to spend the night, following the music through the mansion. You find a grumpy Knives playing the organ in his room and use your arts of seduction to completely wrap him around your finger, making him desire you more than anything else in the world.
Tumblr media
** I will not update this collection. It does not act as a masterlist. In the future, I might make a new collection post. To see if I have posted anything new since posting this, check out my official masterlist.
62 notes · View notes
bubbles-for-all-of-us · 2 years ago
Note
How about Lorcan thought his mate's pregnancy, and the reader being slightly annoyed because he has turned into a mother hen but with more knives to scare people away from the pregnant reader and more grumpy
I took it and ran... I ran...
Lorcan with a pregnant mate
Protective wouldn't even cut it. The moment Lorcan realizes that you are pregnant it is over for everyone. And it is he who finds out about the babe first.
I just picture it being early in the morning. The sun is barely out, and the horizon just starting to clear up. But Lorcan is already up, even if he has a chance to sleep in. He's so used, too used to training early in the morning. Too used to having no one besides him. No one seeking out his love. No one he would want to hold later into the day. And even if you two had been mated for some time he still finds it surreal. Still flinches sometimes, while sleep is still heavily clouding his mind, when he sees or feels your body pressed to him. Never did he feel honorable enough or worth the love but here you are, sprawled out on the bed next to him, arms wrapped around his middle as you snuggle into his side.
That would be the morning when Lorcan would sense that something had shifted. A light frown on his face as he looks down on you. The first thing that would cross his mind is that he sensed the sickness that had been keeping you in bed for the past couple of days. That was worrisome in itself, considering that you had never been so sick before. And so he would fear that it's the sign of it all getting worse. Instantly reaching to put a palm over your forehead, yet finding it as cold as ever.
Then Lorcan would frown some more. Feeling frustrated that with so many years of living, he still can't reach within his senses and grasp the core of what he's feeling. That's until he moves to hold you even closer to him, wanting to grant you the warmth of his body, knowing how much you enjoy feeling him this close. Lorcan's hand comes in touch with your side and his body freezes.
To someone passing by, even to the rest of the family, this might seem like nothing. No one would notice it but Lorcan, Lorcan knows every inch of you. He had memorized every curve, dip, mark, and scar there. His fingers slide slightly lower, moving to care for the lower half of your stomach, where he is convinced a light bump had started to form. His eyes dart up to your face as if you were there looking, ready to tell him that he isn't seeing things, yet he finds you still fast asleep.
Then it all suddenly makes sense. You snuggle to his side during lunch, yawning lightly as you hug his muscly arm, resting your head on his shoulder. You getting frustrated when Lorcan rearranged the blankets on your shared bed. The constant puking and dizziness. The lack of energy. It wasn't because you had caught an illness, you were carrying a worrier. His babe, your babe. A child.
Yet the beauty of it all would be crushed by his past suddenly swirling frantically in front of his eyes. All the fea he had killed, the tricks he had pulled, everyone he had harmed and mistreated. All the blood that coated his hands. How could he hold something so innocent in them? How could he have been a part of creating something like that? He is surrounded by death and distraction. No, he is that. And here you lay with a babe growing in your stomach.
The fear clenches Lorcan's throat and he suddenly jumps up, breath hitching. It's as if he had forgotten that you were pressed to his side at all. His sudden movements would startle you, eyes almost immediately noticing the dark mist crawling all over the room.
"Lor", you would call out softly, hand moving to run over his bare back. His muscles would tense at your touch, making you frown. You knew about his nightmares, being sure that he had gotten one now, you move up slightly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blades as you snuggle against his back. You know that words won't bring him back, it's the touch that does.
Lorcan would reach for your palm, bringing it from behind him and over to his chest, to rest where his heart was beating rapidly. "You...", he mutters, before turning to face you, "You're with child", his black eyes now staring straight at you. Your hand would instantly fall onto your stomach. Tears welling up in your eyes when the thought of it all starts to set in. Lorcan would cup the back of your head, bringing you closer to him, kissing your temple, "I love you", he would mutter, "Both of you".
He would try to mask the scent of pregnancy with his smell from the start. Partly because he didn't want to share this with anyone yet, and since you were still rather unwell, he knew that no one would question it. However, hiding it for long wasn't something you could do. Because witho a couple of weeks, you had a bump, since well your 7-foot mate had put a true worrier baby in you.
Did breaking the news to the family went well? Haha... No. Fea males are territorial bastards as they are. Add a pregnant mate to the mix and you have a never stopping killing machine, ready to end the world. So the moment everyone breaks into cheers, Lorcan's face switches. He's too occupied by Rowan, who's clasping his shoulder to notice that Fenrys had wrapped his arms around you, lifting you slightly. The next thing you know, however, is Fenrys being pressed against the wall with a knife practically cutting his throat.
The room dies down. Rowan steps in front of you, just in case but you are quick to push past him. "Lower that right now", you growl at your mate, finger pointed right at him. Yet Lorcan doesn't back away, breathing heavily still, "Lorcan Salvaterre, for the love of maker, I swear you'll be sleeping outside our bedroom door". Someone behind you giggles lightly, but your frown doesn't ease up. Not until Lorcan steps back. Fenrys fixes his shirt quickly, not wasting a second to get away. You catch his hand as he moves to walk past you, giving it a little squeeze, to which the wolf smiles at.
A part of you understands Lorcan. For a fact most of this is primal, something he can't help. He is a protector of the family. You are his world and with so much being taken from him in the past you can't blame him for feeling the need to chase everyone away. Yet you still shake your head at him.
Not much changes as you get further along with your pregnancy. The more you show the less Lorcan lets you do. He had caught you one night climbing the kitchen counters for cookies. You had never seen the color draining from his face faster. Lorcan had crossed the distance between you in a heartbeat. Strong hands cupped your hips as he lowered you back down. "I'll tie you to the bed", he growls, reaching for the jar himself, "I dear you", you click your tongue at him. "Don't tempt me, dove", you snatch the jar out of his hands but soon the frown is replaced by a grin as your sugar rushes through your system. "I just want to keep you safe", Lorcan brushed the loose strand of hair away from your face, watching you eat. You nod at his words, "I know but I can't be locked up. Plus the dagger you put all over the room... ain't too child friendly".
He does ease up slightly around the others. He's fine with the girls being next to you and smothering you with love. It's the males he doesn't fully trust, even if most of them had been his friends for quite some years. Rowan and Gavriel had read that message. Made sure to know the limit and if they did touch you, to keep it light and back up as soon as they could so they wouldn't tick Lorcan off. It's Fenrys who had found immense pleasure in rilling up the big scary worrier.
You two had been close beforehand. Both had that crackhead energy and messed around. So Fenrys is close second to Lorcan when it comes to protecting you but it's the anger that he can light in Lorcan that gives him the biggest thrill. "Are you done?", Lercan asks, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance. The dinner had just finished and the white wolf had been desperately trying to feel the baby kick. Fenrys lifts his head from your bump slightly, before lowering it back down, "No". Lorcan lets out a growl but that doesn't seem to faze Fenrys, because he knows that you would back him in this. "Then be done with it", Lorcan says through gritted teeth, but that only makes Fenrys grin more, "No".
542 notes · View notes
babe-bombadil · 1 year ago
Text
The Company of Thorin Oakenshield On Vacation
Fili is the first to get stopped in the metal detector for carrying knives
Ori also gets stopped but that’s just because he's wearing overalls
Bifur gets stopped at the metal detector too for obvious reasons, but he just sighs and waits for Bofur to pull his doctor’s note out
Nori’s carry on bag gets stopped because his bottle of hair gel is over the 100 ml limit
Stirs up a fuss when he won’t throw it away
Balin has to step in and resolve the conflict that’s literally his job description in Erebor
Kili looks at the arrival/departure screens and sees that a flight got canceled and just immediately assumes it was theirs
Convinces half the dwarves they need to go back before Bilbo actually bothers to double check
Gandalf claims he “accidentally” booked himself in first class while all the others are in economy although he honestly deserves it after the stress of trying to get every dwarf on the plane
Gandalf also “accidentally” booked all the dwarves seats in the very back of the plane
He gets a Thorin Glare™ when they figure this out
Kili claims he needs to sit by the window so he doesn’t get nauseous but really he just likes to look at the clouds (and stars!)
Oin is out COLD before the plane even takes off
The others pretend not to be jealous he can fall asleep so easily
Bombur usually falls asleep quickly but makes sure to stay awake because he’s excited for the free snacks is very disappointed when he realizes it’s only a tiny bag of pretzels
Gloin’s seat accidentally got switched so he’s sitting in the front of the plane next to a middle aged couple
He doesn’t care but soon gets them into a conversation about their children
Talks for hours about his own son Gimli(!!!)
The couple absolutely loves him and by the end of the flight Gloin gets invited to their daughter’s wedding
Fili reaches over and presses the call flight attendant button on Ori’s seat
Ori is extremely embarrassed and flustered when the flight attendant comes over and apologizes for bothering her so many times that it starts being awkward and the flight attendant just slowly backs away
Bilbo reads a book for the entire flight like the nerd he is
Bofur nearly gets kicked off the plane after trying to start a group song doesn’t understand why the other passengers wouldn’t join in
Dori claps when the plane lands
FIli and Kili join him as a joke and start cheering loudly
Dwalin hits the back of their seats but can’t do much more because security’s been watching him since he arrived
Thorin has the darkest circles under his eyes because this man has MAJOR insomnia
Tried to fall asleep the entire 10 hour flight and only got 5 consecutive minutes also couldn’t sleep the night before
Is officially in his Grumpy Cat Era™ because he hasn’t slept in 36 hours and is dealing with a LOT of travel stress
Falls asleep in the car on the way to the hotel
There aren’t enough seats in the rental car so they just stuff Fili and Kili in the trunk don’t worry it was their idea
Bilbo is driving
Gandalf tried to be the driver but his drivers license was revoked years ago
Balin tries to tell the company about cool landmarks they pass on the way to the hotel but everyone is so tired no one responds
He doesn’t seem to notice and will continue giving a history lesson the entire drive
Bilbo runs over a pothole and Fili and Kili hit the ceiling with a loud THWACK
No one bothers to check on them until they get to the hotel sorry not sorry
Bonus:
Thranduil and Legolas are the ones who wear full suits to get on an airplane Legolas tries to get out of this but is told he will be disowned if he wears sweats
They are also the kind of people who will get off of a 15 hour red eye looking fresher than a daisy
Have to avoid paparazzi in the airport
They bring Tauriel with them for crowd control
Can definitely afford a private plane but don’t get one because of the high carbon emissions remember elves are the biggest tree huggers
368 notes · View notes