#his flares are very important to me
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daroamine · 1 month ago
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hey guys. daisuke in my western au
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bluegarners · 11 months ago
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um... dick is bruce's little boy... always and forever... just a little boy to him...
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dent-de-leon · 1 year ago
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Fate touched Lucien my beloved...Reborn as Mollymauk under a red moon, cradled by the Moonweaver's comforting embrace--a shattered shard of a soul who became whole...Resurrected a final time by Divine Intervention, so beloved and treasured he felt like royalty...Tealeaf and all the threads of fate he's tangled in, all the deaths and horrors he's managed to escape. His soul and destiny still bound to the Mighty Nein in every life--
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scary-monsters · 2 years ago
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it's 5am i shouldn't be awake but alas im thinking Unwell Thoughts abt doodoo brando!!!! he's so perfect it's literally so unfair
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augustinewrites · 5 months ago
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jealous zhongli my beloved
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nestled right in the heart of qiaoying village sits a cozy little apothecary run by you and zhongli. 
your little shop is popular for locals and tourists alike, perfect for people looking for natural remedies or just a new tea brew. today is a little bit slower, with everyone in liyue harbor celebrating lantern rite. so zhongli sits in the back with a half drained cup of tea, reviewing the shop’s finances and balancing the books while you work up front, greeting and assisting the last few customers of the afternoon. 
every so often he lets his focus drift to where you’re working, passing out unlit sparklers to a trio of young children. you shake your head when their parents try to pay, smiling softly when the young ones thank you excitedly and rush out, dragging the adults behind them. 
zhongli’s mind begins to wander to the future, as it often does on days such as this. perhaps next year, you’d be handing sparklers to children of your own.
“are you almost ready to go?” you ask, appearing in the doorway, just as he’s brainstorming baby names in the margins of his work. “i’m waiting on one last gentleman, then we can close for the day.”
zhongli leans back, watching you with a measured expression as he considers your words. “i see. may i ask who this gentleman is? he must be important, if we’re waiting for his business.” 
amusement dances across your expression. “he came by yesterday while you were in the city, inquiring about teas. i think you’d enjoy his company, he reminded me of you. incredibly knowledgeable, wise beyond his years, not to mention very handsome��”
now he was really aching to leave, but not to the harbor to witness the festivities. he was aching to take you home, grab his spear, then return and wait for this gentleman.
you look over your shoulder when the bell at the front door tinkles. “oh! there he is!” 
“i should greet him,” zhongli suggests (though it doesn't really sound like a suggestion). “i'm sure we have much to discuss.”
“alright, my love. lead the way,” you tease, letting him position himself in front of you. 
zhongli forces a somewhat pleasant smile and tone as he greets the customer clad in the fineries of…fontaine. 
it takes all of three seconds for him to realize that this is no customer. 
but he can't do anything, not in front of you, and he’s sure the hydro dragon wouldn't be so foolish to threaten the safety of one’s mate. 
“monsieur neuvillette!” you greet cheerily, peeking around zhongli’s defensive stance. “i have the tea blends you ordered stored in the back. i’ll go grab them.” 
so begins a true gentleman’s argument. 
“welcome. is there anything i can assist you with in the meantime?” (why have you come?)
the chief justice smiles, though it looks practiced and every bit as forced as zhongli’s. “i’ve just come because i admire fair prices.” (i've come for justice)
zhongli has always known this confrontation would come. though the authority of the original elemental dragons has disappeared from the world, a new generation has come to reclaim what was lost. 
“i see.” (i see)
“i've heard much about this place from the locals.” neuvillette says, fearlessly holding eye contact with the archon. “you’ve created quite the human life for yourself, morax. an artifact appraiser, funeral consultant, and now you run a successful apothecary with your lovely mate.”
something old, draconic, possessive rumbles through veins. 
neuvillette merely chuckles as the earth beneath the shop trembles lightly. 
though you return just in time to quell the impending earthquake, zhongli’s possessiveness flares through no fault of his own. dragons mate for life, and though he has the utmost trust in you, he does not trust the dragon from fontaine smiling so politely at you. 
with his gaze narrowed so dangerously, he misses the amused look you cast up at him when his hand grasps your waist, securing you at his side. 
“thank you for your patronage, monsieur, but we are now closed. safe travels back to fontaine.”
he doesn't bother waiting for a reply, dragging you away from the counter and into the back room as you try to look over your shoulder.
“thank you for coming, monsieur–”
zhongli presses his lips to yours before you can say his name, the hand not gripping your waist cupping the back of your neck as he crowds you against the wall. 
there’s only one, foolproof way to mark you as his.
good thing he already has names picked out.
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littlechivalry · 4 months ago
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I love the idea of our Hawkins teens going to a showing of a Rocky Horror so much so please join me in this:
Eddie's driving. He's excited, loves that he gets to 'pop their cherry.' He pulls up to Harrington house expecting to see Steve and Robin posted up outside in full Brad and Janet regalia.
Eddie of course is dressed as Eddie and of course he thought about Frank but that might be too much. Steve is cool but is he cool? Eddie hopes but he's not an idiot.
Instead of proper Midwestern church clothes he finds Robin standing out front in a raggedy black suit, her hair greased down while Vicki (and yes Eddie had had his suspicions) is next to her dressed as a maid with her own bright red hair teased out to heaven.
"Riff Raff? Magenta? I didn't expect to see you two here."
Vicki laughs but Robin gives him a look that makes a shiver run up his back.
"So where's Steve? Decided to stay home?"
The last syllable barely leaves his lips when the door opens and - - -
LEGS. Fishnet stocking LEGS. Tap pants and a bustier and a shining tail coat and a top hat and a blinding grin and LEGS.
"Columbia?"
Steve laughs and dances down the steps and he's wearing tap shoes too? Eddie may not survive this.
Robin laughs at him but Vicki pats his shoulder in commiseration.
The drive to Indy is filled with jokes and conversation and music and Eddie is paying attention to the conversation. And he is paying attention to the road. But
LEGS
They get to the theater and get their props and their seats. A few songs in Steve begs off to go to the bathroom. Does Eddie watch him go? Of course. Can he actually see him very well in the darkened theater? No. But it's the principle of the thing.
Then the music starts up for the Time Warp and Eddie is on his feet along with everyone else in the theater. There are performers on stage dancing along with the movie, a long line of tuxedo clad strangers when suddenly a figure goes flying across the stage and Eddie can hear Robin and Vicki whooping but he is frozen.
It's Steve. Tapping. It's a perfect recreation of Columbia's dance routine and when the other boy finally comes to a stop, gasping, on a chair at the corner of the stage Eddie finds his voice screaming louder than he has at any concert he's ever been to.
A few minutes later Steve makes his way back to his seat and Robin lunges past Eddie to throw herself at him. Eddie can make out that she's talking but not what she's saying.
They make it through the rest of the show and it's amazing. Eddie's second favorite moment may be when Steve and Robin wrapped their arms around him during "Eddie" wailing out fake sobs.
They sing and shout themselves hoarse. The ride home is quiet but in the best possible way. Robin and Vicki are as good as sleeping in the back of the van and Steve is leaning against the window, humming along with the radio.
"Hey," Eddie says softly. "Where did you learn to dance like that?"
Steve smiles but it's barely a shadow of his usual smile and it fades fast. "When I was little my mom still gave half a shit about being seen as a good mother so she put me in dance classes. It didn't last too long. My dad didn't like it and after a while it became more important for her to be seen as a good wife so I was taken out and put into every sport."
Eddie doesn't say anything. Can't say anything.
"I really liked it though? I can't play music and I'm not much of a singer but I really like dancing. Robin had to put up with me practicing this almost constantly for the past few weeks. I thought she was gonna kill me."
"So you learned this for tonight?"
Steve turned to face Eddie and smiles. "I learned it for you, man. Thought you would get a kick out of it."
The small ember of Eddie's crush on Steve had initially been lit years ago in high school. He had banked it carefully, couldn't bear to let it go cold but too worried about losing Steve as a friend to let it flare bright.
"You learned it for me?" Eddie's stomach feels warm
"Yeah," Steve says, smiling. "Every Eddie needs a Columbia, right?"
Steve is laughing at him and that only makes Eddie feel warmer. Steve. His crush, Steve. Steve did this for him.
"Yeah," Eddie says. "Yeah, he does."
"Thought so," Steve says, turning back to the window.
Eddie drives them back to Hawkins in a silence full of potential.
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dickaspointed · 4 months ago
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𝑹𝑬𝑴𝑶𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑰𝑪𝑲𝑰𝑬𝑺 𝑾 𝑶𝑻7
𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥!!
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HEESEUNG was about to start his daily regime of violence on league when he walked into the kitchen to gather an array of food and drinks to satiate his gnawing hunger. your back was turned to him, so of course he took it as a sign to scare you. instead, you scared him when you whipped around with a whisk in hand, rolling it aggressively against the red and purple bruises that lingered over your collarbone.
"what in the world?!"
"i seen it on tiktok! i have such an important interview tomorrow and i can't go into it like this. i look like a whore!" you exclaimed, desperately digging the silver into your skin. "is it working? please tell me it's working!"
JAY genuinely couldn't believe his eyes when you sat in the center of his bed with a whisk going to town on the marks he worked so hard to create last night. you had forgot all about the dinner with his parents and with your neck looking like the latest shark attack, you were desperate for anything.
"don't stare at me like that, tiktok said if i do this they'll go away." you remained stoic, but Jay cringed as he watched the little wires dig into your skin. "can you tell? i think they're disappearing—!"
JAKE took the whisk from your hand, narrowing his eyes at you as he stared upon the fading bruise. he had worked hard on these masterpieces and to watch you try to rid of them hurt a lot differently.
"i know that stupid tiktok hack! absolutely not! people should know our sex life is completely fine and thriving, why do you care so much about how they look at you?"
"my mom is on her way here," you deadpanned, lips flatlining. "remember the conversation 'we're waiting until marriage.' yeah, me too."
Jake cleared his throat, sheepishly returning the whisk. "i'm so sorry."
NI-KI dropped the groceries off in the little kitchenette, rolling his shoulders after lugging such heavy items up 4 flights of stairs. he had rung you at least 12 times and due to no answer he brought the groceries up by himself.
he huffed and puffed very obviously upset and when he burst through your bedroom door, nostrils flared and cheeks red, only then did you actually break from your trance.
"Ni-ki! i'm busy!" you screeched, whirling your wrists in circles as you held firmly to the stainless steel whisk you had instacarted to your house. "TikTok told me i could remove hickies—" Ni-ki moved in closer, yanking that stupid whisk away from you before he started his attack.
SUNGHOON was about to start baking a cake for Sunoo's birthday, most of his utensils were missing and when he searched high and low he couldn't find them. finally caving to ask you for help, he hung onto the doorknob his face twisted into pure confusion and disgust.
you sat cross legged on his bed, using both hands to twirl his whisk into a large bruise he created last night. a bowl of ice rested between your thighs, every now and then you'd take a cube out and slide it over the bruise before reassuming position. "oh! hi, hoon!"
needless to say, Sunoo had no cake and you had way too many hickies that a whisk could not whisk away.
SUNOO had went into hiding for majority of the day, hidden underneath covers, his phone propped on his pillow he watched tutorial after tutorial. to anyone who caught this it definitely looked like a weird sex kink but in truth he was trying to remove all of the hickies you had tatted on his skin.
he had a very important meeting this afternoon and no amount of makeup was hiding the shape or color of your lips on his skin. desperately enough, when you entered the bedroom and caught him in the act you only laughed, going over to your makeup kit to cancel out the different hues of hickies that loitered his beautiful skin.
"stay off TikTok, Sun. you'll rupture your arteries at this rate."
JUNGWON loved tatting your skin up in hickies, it really was his favorite past time. your chest quickly became a warzone and with the hot weather approaching you wanted nothing more than to wear crop tops or low fitting tops.
you wasted not a single second hopping on the good ole clock app to help rid of your problem. there were loads of tutorials to help and immediately you searched high and low for a whisk before diving onto the couch to start your experiment.
Jungwon wasn't too pleased with this and in short he threw the whisk away, giving you a long lecture on how you shouldn't care about what others thought.
K BYEREE
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seospicybin · 2 months ago
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INEXPERIENCED.
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Han x reader. (s)
Synopsis: One of your subordinates wasn’t performing the way you would have liked, you invited him for a drink in the hopes of encouraging him only to discover that he's inexperienced in other things too. (7,5k words)
Author's note: Let me know if you want a second part. Oh, and happy birthday, Hannie! ♡
"Goddammit!"
The chief's voice is sharp and loud like a crack of thunder but instead of lightning, it comes with a stack of papers hurling toward you.
Fortunately, it's breezing past the side of your head as it scatters in the air and the papers float before they make a quiet landing on the floor.
"Have you been teaching those under your wing right?" The chief yells again, this time personally aimed it toward you with his nostrils flared and his neck gets all red whether from the anger or his collar is too tight, or both.
"Don't make light of our work here!"
It's always safe to apologize first and explain later, it's even better if there are no explanations at all and admit right away that it's your fault.
"We're very sorry, sir!" You sincerely say while keeping your head down, you secretly glance to the side to check on someone and he does the same thing too.
"I'll take responsibility for this," you openly accept the blame as a good senior would do.
"Enough with your apologies!" The chief lowers his voice as he rubs on his wrist and you guess he got hurt from hurling the papers at you with all of his strength.
"Just go back to your work and do it right!" The chief yells once more as he hides the pain around his wrist.
You nod and put on a courteous smile, "Please, excuse us," you say.
You quickly make your way out of his office along with your junior co-worker and none of you say anything until you both turn into the hallway that leads you back to your office.
The person next to you, Han, stops walking and turns to face you, he's looking down at his feet when he apologizes, "I'm sorry. It was my mistake but I dragged you into this."
With a job comes a responsibility and when you get tasked to take him under your wing, you are fully aware that he's your responsibility and his mistake will be your mistake too. Since he's new, it's understandable that he stumbled on things but the problem is he's done it a couple of times already in the last five months he's been working here.
However, you remember you were once in his position and you've experienced how stressful it can be when everyone is pressing you from all sides, you don't want that for him so you try to be a compassionate senior for him.
You gently place your hand on his shoulder and smile at him, "The most important thing is you acknowledge your mistake and apologize. Now, we can just laugh it off," you tell him.
Han lifts his head, showing how sorry he is with his eyebrow downturn and wistful eyes, "We can't just laugh it off," he meekly says.
You put your hand on the small of his back and whisk him away to continue walking down the hallway, "Let's just laugh it off and have a few drinks tonight," you console him.
"Maybe just one drink," he says, feeling concerned with what you mean by a few drinks.
"Let's drink until morning!" You jokingly say, linking your arm with his.
"We can't drink until morning," Han meekly says as you keep dragging him along with you.
"Oh, come on!" You gently slap him on the chest and get surprised by the firm muscles he has under his crisp white shirt, "It's my treat."
-
What's a high-paying job when he earns more stress than money?
Han should consider himself lucky that he has you as a senior. Not only that you're nice, you are so kind and patient with him, you teach him everything he needs to know about his job and the company. You always try to cheer him up when he gets chewed off by the chief. You're not only making this job bearable to him, you make it possible for him to enjoy his work with you around.
"Oh, no!" You gasp as you see the sign taped on the front door of the bar.
"Our sanctuary!" You cry with your lips pursed and your shoulders sagged.
Closed for renovation, it says on it.
It's such a shame that the bar that you both regularly visit is closed on days like this when he needs to drink his sorrow away and just decompress.
"Shall we go somewhere else?" He suggests while scratching the back of his head, raking his brain for any bar he knows in this area.
Your face brightens as the light bulb in your head dings with an idea, "How about we drink at my place?"
"Huh?" His eyes burrowed in slight shock and confusion.
"Come on! It's just around the corner," you don't wait for his answer, you link your arm around him and whisk him away with you.
Turns out, you're not lying about your place is just around the corner. You live in a small house with a miniature garden in the back and everywhere he looks, there's a potted plant sitting in the corner of the room.
It creates such a contrast to the hustling and bustling of the city and the stressful environment at work, it offers a pleasant atmosphere that instantly puts him at ease.
Keeping the window open, the wind chime sings a tune every time a gust of wind brushes in between, sending them clinking against each other.
"How do you manage to take care of all of these plants?" He asks in wonder, foolishly touching the tiny thorns on one of your succulents.
"It's easy," you answer from the kitchen, "You just need to water them."
Han saunters into the kitchen, ready to offer his help as you stand on your tiptoe to get glasses from the top cabinet. He notices the big jar of dark brown liquid with something floating on the surface.
"What is that?"
"That's what we'll be drinking tonight," you answer with a smile.
Being the gentleman he is, he carries the big jar of mysterious drink to the living room, carefully puts it down on the table, and then sits on the floor, looking at it with curious eyes.
"It's cherry brandy," you inform.
"You made it yourself?" He wildly guesses.
"I am," you answer with a proud smile, opening the jar with all of your strength.
As soon as the lid cracks open, Han is already intoxicated by the sweet, alcohol-tinted aroma that is wafting around the room. He watches as you dip the ladle and meticulously pour it into the glass. He knows now that the things bobbing on the surface are the cherries.
"But how?" He asks in wonder as he observes the drink in his hand.
"It's just cherries, sugar, and vodka, put them in the jar, shake them, put them in the dark for weeks, and voila!" You easily share the recipe and the comprehensive steps for making it.
"No, I mean, how do you have time to do all these?" He asks, utterly befuddled.
Work is draining enough to him that he has no energy left to do other things than rest, and when he gets time, he uses it on something as frivolous as playing video games. That explains why he can't relate to your way of life because how?
You look at him and snort as if his question is inane and the answer is obvious. You get up from the floor as you say, "I'm going to get the cheese."
"Please don't tell me you also made the cheese yourself," he jokingly asks because he already has so much respect for you.
This cherry brandy is dangerous. The cherries mask the taste of the alcohol and all Han can taste is the sweet and tangy flavor of the cherries, but he's aware that he's getting lightheaded with every sip of it. The worst part is he can't stop drinking it.
You're using his drunk state as a chance to tease him and he starts grouching, slurring his words doing it.
"What I'm saying is you always change the topic to me apologizing," he whines with his lips forming a cute pout.
"I'm not," you deny, taking a piece of cheese in between sips.
"I know I am incompetent," he grumbles then hisses at the alcohol burning down his throat.
"I beg to differ. I don't think you're incompetent."
"What then? Incapable? Pathetic? Useless?"
"I think you're just... inexperienced and that's okay," you pause to pick a handful of cherries from the jar with the ladle, "I know that you're sorry and you'll keep trying to be better. I have faith in you, Han."
Han didn't know that he needed to hear that until now. Suddenly, the tightness in his chest loosens, and he feels liberated. He can finally breathe and enjoy his drink with ease.
"Let's impress the chief with our next presentation, okay?" You softly smile at him, raising your glass to invite him for a toast.
Returning the spirit, Han smiles and raises his glass, clinking it with yours as he promises himself to prove that you're not wasting your faith in him.
"Damn! This cherry brandy is so good," he praises with his nose scrunched reacting to the aftertaste.
"Can you do this?" You pop a cherry into your mouth while holding the stem between your thumb and index finger.
"Do what?"
You put the stem into your mouth next and begin moving your mouth, almost like chewing it. After a while, you stick your tongue out, revealing the stem is knotted now. It's impressive, yes, but his eyes are focusing on your lips and how they're glistening wet, probably tastes as sweet as a cherry too.
"That's kind of uh..." he's not sure if what he's about to say is appropriate so he decides not to finish his sentence, "Wow!"
"They say that if you can do this that means you're a good kisser," you remark as you fish out more cherries out of the jar with the ladle.
He hesitates but considering that he's not in a workplace and the alcohol dulls his brain, it can no longer tell what's appropriate or not anymore.
"Are you?"
"Mmh?" You hum in question with a cherry tug between your teeth.
"Are you a good kisser?" He daringly asks.
You bite through the cherry and he can the juice flooding your mouth, you're chewing it as you're looking at him, making him wait for your answer in anticipation.
Then you lean forward on the table, you prop a hand under your chin and slightly tilt your head to the side, "Want to try?"
The way you both execute it is like two teenagers doing seven minutes in heaven. You're both sitting facing each other on the floor with your legs folded under you and awkwardly looking at each other.
All of a sudden, you lean in close until both of your faces are merely inches away from each other. Your lips slowly curl into a smile as you stare into his warm brown eyes.
"You have beautiful eyes."
He can't only handle that much and smiles at your compliment, "Thank you."
"But I need you to close them for now."
"Okay," he obeys your order and closes his eyes.
A minute later, Han just realized what he'd done to himself. With his eyes closed, he can't see what you're doing and he can only wait in anticipation with his heart pitter-patter in his chest.
"Where should I start, mmh?"
He hears you mutter and he knows that it's a rhetorical question, you don't need an answer, you do that just to build his anticipation.
In the next moment, Han feels your breath fanning over his ear, sending goose bumps down his neck, then softly, you press a kiss to his left temple.
“Hmm... where to now?” The words are spoken softly against his skin, each one a caress.
He knows it's yet another rhetorical question but it's enough to send his heart rattling like someone sets firecrackers in his chest.
The tip of your nose grazes his skin as you move lower and you surprise him with a kiss on his cheek, making him close his eyes tightly as impatient sears through him.
As if you hear his thoughts, you land the next kiss on the corner of his mouth, so close yet not exactly where he wants your lips to be.
Then you rest your hand on his jaw, holding him in place as you press an innocent peck on his lips. A tingling sensation bounces around in his chest and a second after you pull away only to sink your lips on his again.
This time, you take the lead, you're showing him how it's done, drawing the kisses out. When your tongue slips between his lips, he goes stock-still. He can't comprehend that your tongue is in his mouth, hot and wet, swirling around his tongue.
This is it. This is kissing and kissing is this good. Oh, man, no one tells him that it's this good!
When you break the kiss, he almost lets out a whimper of complaint from the sudden loss of contact.
"What do you think?" You ask, biting your lower lip but he notices a grin peeking around the edges of your mouth.
"The best kiss I've ever had," he honestly admits.
You let out a soft laugh, "We're not at work. You don't have to suck me up," you say, not entirely buying his words.
"B-but I'm not lying," he assures you with his eyebrows downturn and his dark eyes looking at you.
You take your glass of cherry brandy and have a small sip, "Well, if the only other person you've ever kissed is your mum, then I'll take you on that," you jokingly say.
Something catches in his throat and it's the truth. Han doesn't plan on telling anyone about it or ever for that matter but he deems you're trustworthy enough to keep this secret for him.
"I'm a virgin," he meekly confesses.
The handle of the ladle slips off your fingers and it clatters to the bottom of the jar, "Pardon?"
"I have never had sex with anyone," the hesitation makes his voice quiver at the end of his sentence.
You bring your glass close to your mouth but not drink it, "When I said you're inexperienced, I didn't think that it included the dating area."
Now it feels like he's just told you his defect and his nerves are being replaced by a wave of regret. His eyes wander off, his voice turns small.
"Was that a turn-off?"
You take a cherry from your drink and shove it into your mouth, as you chew on it a sly smirk rises on your face. You lick your lips and then lean forward, "If I say that I'll pop your cherry..."
Your hand reaches for his face and the pressure of your fingertips on his chin makes him face you again, leading him to believe you want eye contact.
"What would you do?"
-
The tension is climbing fast when you both enter your bedroom, he can't even see his surroundings as both of your lips are locked in a rapturous kiss and you lead him in one direction, the bed.
The moment you have him lying on the bed and you pin him under, his skin gets hot and sensitive, his pulse drumming with eagerness. His cock digs in his slacks, reminding him that it's real and it's not some fantasies he's making up in his head. He is sure he's been turned on before but he can't remember when, even if he did, he's sure it wasn't this much.
From there, it's raining kisses on his lips, and in between the aching presses of your lips, your tongue caresses him, making his skin tingle. When he tries to capture your tongue to take into himself, you evade him. You tease him more by brushing at his lips and dip your tongue inside for a mere second, then quickly withdraw, making him almost groan in frustration.
Okay, he gets it, you're a good kisser so stop playing, he complains in his head.
The way you smile against his lips only means that you know what you're doing and enjoying it. Impulsively, Han decides to seal your mouth with his and touches your tongue with his, an explosion of taste in his mouth, sweet, tangy, tart, so. fucking. addictive.
As he's drunk in your kisses, you run your hand down his body and eventually discover his member poking through the front of his slacks.
"Wow!" You lowly gasp yet continue rubbing his clothed bulge, "You're already this hard?"
Since it's his first time, he doesn't know how to properly react or respond, but he's familiar with this feeling tugging inside him, insecurity.
"I'm sorry," he meekly apologizes.
You gently cup his jaw and stare into his dark, round eyes, "What to be sorry for?"
To assure him, you place a long, lingering kiss on his lips and then sit straddling him on the bed. You untuck the hem of your blouse out of your skirt and bring your fingers to the top button.
"My junior pops a boner on me..." you maintain eye contact with him as you continue undoing all the buttons on your blouse, "Then I can't just look and do nothing."
It's a mystery how he doesn't get blind from seeing your bare upper half body but he knows his eyes are almost out of their sockets the second you take your blouse off, revealing your soft mounds hanging beautifully on your chest.
You're already gorgeous with your clothes on but like this, it's too much for him. He swallows hard as you glide your hand down your sternum and he sees how your fingers lightly graze your nipple as you cup the underside.
You take both of his hands and put them on your breasts, then, you let them go just to see what he's going to do with them.
Nothing. He does nothing but look at his hands holding your breasts and you almost grin at how he looks at them with eyes filled with childlike wonder.
You tilt your head to the side, "So what do you think?"
"They're so soft," he innocently answers.
You hold his hands and move them together, fondling your breasts together with him, you gesture his thumb to play with your hardening bud. Soon, he's doing it himself, kneading on your breasts and once in a while, rubbing his fingers over your nipples.
After a while of letting him touch them, you deem he's ready for more, "Want to kiss them?"
His eyes glance up from your chest to your eyes and then stifle a nod. You scoot a little to the back as he rises from the bed, and this new position brings his mouth close to your breasts.
Sensing his hesitation, you say, "Go ahead. Put your mouth on them."
As he stares at them in silence, Han swallows air, sending his Adam's apple bobbing inside his throat before softly landing his small, pouty lips on the valley of your breasts, a long peck that leaves a searing feeling on your skin and then buries his head in between.
A ragged breath escaped your mouth as you encircled your arms around him, drawing him closer. You tangle your hand in his hair, dark, loose curls, caught between your fingers.
Seconds stretched into minutes and Han hasn't done anything but rests one side of his head on your sternum.
"You're not falling asleep, are you?" You jokingly ask.
"No," his voice is small and low, almost like a whisper.
You reckon he needs some pointers on ways to play with them, you glide your hand to the back of his head and tilt his head slightly upward, just enough to make him look at you.
"How about we put them in your mouth?" You ask with your hand softly scratching the tendrils of hair on the nape of his neck.
You lead him by placing your hand on his jaw and with your thumb, you trace his lower lip, then slowly, you part his mouth open with it. You let him do the rest and he catches up fast, he opens his mouth a little wider and takes your ample flesh, then closes his mouth around it.
Han is following his instincts, he tightens his grip around you and pulls you closer so he can feast on you. He has your breasts in his face, his mouth, rolling on his tongue. He can play with them all day.
As you gaze down at your chest, you see his lips wrapped around your nipple and his hand kneading on the other, both stimulations sending you twist and arch your back, your ass making friction on his crotch.
"You like them, huh?"
Without detaching his mouth from your nipple, he answers, "I like this."
He moves his mouth to the other nipple and sucks on it, "and this."
It's such an erotic sight that you feel a tingle down there. You bring your hands to the side of your breasts and push them to the middle so he can suck them all at once.
Han doesn't need more pointers, he knows what he wants and going for it. More importantly, he knows this is no fantasy playing in his head. This moment, you, and his undeniable attraction to you are all real.
He's slowly yet surely claiming your body in any way he can, he drags his lips up your throat, along your jaw, back toward your mouth, kissing you like it's his lifeline and he's hanging on a thin thread.
A murmuring sound hums in your throat as you kiss him back while your hands go down his back, taking the tail of his shirt out of his slacks. You draw your hands back to the front, unbuttoning his shirt and your patience wears thin as you get to the last one, you end up ripping it open.
A sigh escapes your mouth as you place your hand on his bare chest, but it's the swell of his chest muscles that distracts you from your exploration. You never touch hard rounded flesh like this before and his skin is searing hot under your fingertips. Gosh! You want to touch him all over.
As you sink your mouth into his again, you run your greedy hands over his arms, his chest, and his abs. You also admire his exceptional shoulders-to-waist ratio.
On the other hand, Han isn't prepared when you stroke over the fly of his pants, a jolt of pleasure coursed through him and his cock twitches in excitement, and a hoarse groan falls out of his mouth. His mind goes haywire as you unbutton and unzip his slacks, then you withdraw the hard length of his cock. He's almost losing it when your eyes go dark with so much want.
"Oh, so hot," you breathlessly gasp as you wrap your fingers around his swelling member, "mmh... so hard for me."
It's obvious that you have the experience, you seem to know where to touch, what would please him the most, the rhythm he prefers, and know when to pick up the pumping of your hand around his length.
"Am I doing good?" You casually ask, acting like you don't see the effect of your stimulations on him.
"Good," his voice is trembling with so much intensity.
As much as he likes it, he doesn't want to risk coming all over your palm, he wants to explore more of you and more ways to do that to you.
"Want... to... touch you," That's all he can mutter after forcing his brain to form a coherent sentence.
"Want to touch me?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"There," he lowly whispers that he doubts you can hear it.
You give him a haste kiss before answering his request by sitting on your knees, you swiftly undo the hook fastening at the side of your skirt and then ease the zipper over the sweet curve of your hip. Instead of sitting back down, you get off his lap and slowly lay yourself down on the bed. You raise your hips to lower the skirt down and then out of your legs.
"Now, come here," You're patting the space next to you.
It puts him in a trance seeing you lying naked on the bed with only your white underwear on, the fabric is so flimsy it leaves nothing to the imagination.
After a struggling minute, his brain finally manages to process your command, he lays next to you. You waste no time but gently hold his chin, then bring his head close for a kiss.
Maybe it's because you're too good at this that makes Han feels he needs to rise to the level. He does more than a kiss, he licks, he nibbles at your lips, and his tongue daringly invades your mouth to get as much of that sweet taste of you.
A hand finds him and you're taking it with you, placing it on you, guiding him to where you like to be touched. Your neck, across your chest, the underside of your breasts, around the navel and you keep leading him south, not stopping until his hand meets your clothed sex.
"It's wet," he blurts out as he feels the dampness of your underwear against his palm.
"It's even wetter underneath," you mutter against his lips.
Curiosity gets the best of him, he checks right away to see if what you said is true. He slips his hand under the fabric and immediately gets the answer. You're drenched and it gets all over his fingers the more he touches you.
"Oh, my God..." you arch your back against his hand, offering more of you to touch.
He feels encouraged to please you more, he pulls your underwear to the side and slips one finger into you. Low murmurs tumble from your lips and it tells him that this is what you want. He works a second finger in, and the stretching sensation has your head falling back and your heels dug into the bed.
"Curl them," you instruct as you push into penetration.
Han doesn't obey your words right away, he allows his fingers to ease in and out, feeling you out and catching you off guard, he curls his fingers inside you, startling a breathless gasp from you.
With your eyes closed, you lick your lips and then ask, “Are you sure it's your first time?"
His insecurity kicks in again as you show sheer doubt in your question, “What do you mean by that?”
You open your eyes and slyly smile at him, “It means so far you’re very good at it.”
The moment he hears that his insecurity turns into confidence. He applies slow, measured movements and does what he thinks would please you, using your lewd noises as the guide. The motions seem to calm you even as they put you on edge.
Your hand hikes its way up to his arm then nestles in his tousled hair, "My, my! You really are a capable boy when you try," you praise with dazed eyes and a sly grin.
This should offend him but it does nothing but stroke his ego in the best way. Other than that, he just wants to please you more and more even though he has no idea how. The better question is: what to do next?
"Do you mind taking my underwear off for me?"
He doesn't answer but hurriedly gets himself to do it, fingers tugging at the waistband of your underwear, then slowly, pulling it down your legs. The scrape of his nails on your skin sends a shudder down your spine.
"There you go!" You delightfully exclaim once the underwear is off of you.
You get comfortable on the bed, propping an elbow on the mattress as you lie slightly to the side, "Now, take your clothes off."
He's just realized now that his shirt is still loosely draped around his shoulders and his slacks are bunched around his thighs with his hard-on hanging out of his boxer.
With naughty eyes, you watch as he removes the pieces of clothing until there's none left but miles of miles of honey skin. You run one hand down your front then part your legs open, you don't seem to be embarrassed touching yourself in front of him and he finds that very sexy.
Little does he know, what you're about to do next is far sexier.
You put your hands on the back of your knees and then slowly, you pull them apart, exposing your glistening wet core to him.
Han admits that he hasn't seen enough to know but he's sure he's looking at one of the prettiest pussy he's ever seen, glistening wet, pulsating with so much desire, and so damn inviting. Looking at it makes him swallow air, hard.
He wants to play it cool but he fails at it, he wants you so much, he becomes this one big ache of wanting.
As he's about to lower himself on you, you block him from coming closer with your hand on his chest, "Oh, we almost forgot the condom."
You twist your body to the side, hand reaching for the handle of your bedside drawer and pull it open. To cut time, he grabs it for you from a box full of condoms inside the drawer.
"Want me to put it on?" You offer.
"Yes," he shortly answers, not caring if he sounds so eager.
You tear through the foil wrapper and take out the rubber, you give his length a gentle stroke before rolling the rubber down, then you pinch the end to make room for his completion.
You lay back on the bed, head resting on the pillow and a smile lingering on your face, showing him that you're comfortable enough to continue.
"You know what to do next," you say as you rub your hand up and down his forearm.
As he hesitates, you wrap your hand around his cock and rub it between your folds, milking more essence to prepare you for penetration. You're getting impatient for him but you let him decide when to enter you.
After a while, Han finally aligns his cock to your entrance, and with a shallow breath, he pushes just enough until his tip disappeared inside you.
Oh, the face he makes as he enters you, it's priceless.
"I can take a little more," you assure him with fingers lightly scraping the skin of his arms.
"I just—" he bites back a groan and tugs his lower lips between his teeth, "Give me a moment. This is my first time."
As you lay underneath and hear that, you find him hot and cute at the same time, butterflies explode in your stomach and fly around in amok.
"Kiss me," you sweetly ask, bringing his head close with your hand holding his chin.
Han fulfills your wish, lowering his mouth on you again as you wrap your arms around him. As he calms down from the rising tension, you bring your hands down to his hips and nudge him to push more into you.
"Oh..." his groan is hoarse and raw, spilling into your open mouth.
"I want all of you inside me," you whine against his lips.
Conveniently, what you want aligns with what he wants, he pushes the rest of his length inside you until he's fully sheathed in your warm, velvety walls.
A shaky breath escapes his mouth and he buries his head in your neck, you can hear every shudder of his breath, getting heavier with each passing second.
The two of you savor the moment—not speaking, not moving, not doing anything, just being with someone. The room is so quiet you hear the cars driving by outside and the occasional sounds of the wind-chime from the living room.
With a passionate kiss on your lips, he begins moving, he withdraws then thrusts, and the pace turns quick all of a sudden. You understand that this is his first time but he can't fully enjoy it when he's going at a light speed in a second.
"Hey, slow down," You calmly say with a soft peck on his lips and jaw, "don't rush."
He abruptly stops moving for a second and lets out a low sigh, "Sorry, I can't help myself."
Why he has to be this cute in a heating moment like this? You can't help but smile and peck his small lips again. You keep your hand on his neck, feeling the blood rushing in his veins.
"This is our first time," you say, "I want it to be special."
"Okay," he says with repeated nods.
Our first time. That sounds like you're hinting that this will be the first of many. Han feels a flutter all over his body hearing that.
Our first time, he replays it in the back of his head for his own amusement.
Keeping your words in mind, he continues where he left off, thrusting into you again at a moderate speed until he finds his pace. You give him the closeness he seeks by spreading your legs wider and wrapping them around his dainty waist.
In between kisses and moans, you tenderly gaze into his eyes and ask, "So, how do I feel?"
He forces his brain to try and compute words, "You feel hot... slippery and tight."
He pauses to clear his throat and adds, "You feel so good."
"I know," You softly smile and land a peck on his lips, "You feel so good inside me too."
Gosh! If he knew that sex felt this good, he would have done it sooner. He believes that it's all because of you. There's no guarantee that it would feel this good with someone else.
The way you keep clenching tighter around him means that he's doing well but on the other hand, it brings him closer to the edge. How long does sex usually last? He doesn't know but it seems like he can't hold himself back anymore.
"I'm sorry but I think I'm about to come," he says through his gritted teeth.
You hastily kiss his lips, "do you want to cum, mmh?"
Now that you asked him, he doesn't feel good about saying yes because you seem like you still want to continue. He changes his mind, convincing himself he can hold back a little longer.
"No, I can't— I shouldn't," he mutters while shaking his head.
"You hold back so much despite it being your first time," you say with a sly smile.
You put your arms around his shoulders, clinging to him, and swiftly, you roll him to the side, forcing him to lay back on the bed while you get on top of him.
"Alright then..." you sigh as you run both hands down his chest, "Try not to come as hard as you can."
Han should've taken your warning seriously. He gaps so loudly as you start rolling your hips against him, back and forth, then in circular motions, painstakingly slow. He's hopelessly grasping at the last shred of sanity left in him.
It's impossible to hold back anymore when you're fucking him good and he's watching you enjoying it with your breasts bouncing along to the slightest of movement, your nails clawing at his chest and the sexiest part of all is that blissful smile plastered on your face.
For a timeless moment, Han hovers on the brink, breathless, until the orgasm crashes over him and he grips at your thighs as you drive into him relentlessly. He hasn't finished with his orgasm yet he can feel your muscles fluttering around him and clamping him down.
With a hoarse groan, you surge into him one last time and come around him, then slowly, you lower your shaking body to the bed.
Without thinking, Han holds you close like you are his. He puts his arms around you and you burrow your head into the crook of his neck as you hold him back.
"Congratulations!" You whisper.
"Mmh?" He asks with dazed eyes.
"Your cherry has been popped!"
-
Han jolts awake the next morning, he's seeing you sleeping next to him, in your room and the sun is shining so brightly outside. The first thought that comes to his mind is he's late for work and panicked.
He rises from the bed and gasps, "Oh, God! Did I oversleep?!"
You put your hand on his chest and pull him to lay back on the bed, "It's Saturday," you sleepily croak.
"Oh? Right..." His panic turns into embarrassment and he blames his body clock for that.
You scoot close to his side and put your arm across his chest, fingertips lightly trailing his collarbone. It feels nice, and snug. Why would he try to leave this heavenly feeling of lazing on the bed with you?
But he's aware that he should also consider that you might want your personal space back and he doesn't want to overstay his visit.
"I uhm... I probably should go," he says yet not moving an inch.
He hears you draw a breath then drop your hand to cup his jaw, "Okay."
Again, Han remains still on the bed, lying so close next to you and in your warm embrace. You suddenly lift your head and roll to the side, overlapping his body with yours.
"Before you leave, want to shower with me first?"
This is unexpected but he's not complaining at all. He reminds himself to keep calm and try to come up with a playful response.
"So we can have sex again?"
You crack a laugh at that and rest your chin on his chest, you gently tap his cheek with your index finger, "Now that you're no longer a virgin, you think you're so hot, huh?"
It hasn't completely sunk into him that he had sex for the first time last night and the reminder makes his heart flutter.
He keeps his cool and nonchalantly shrugs, "Just a little."
-
As much as he tries his best to resist it, Han keeps following you with his eyes.
Yes, he's aware of how creepy it is and he wants to act normal, it makes it obvious that he feels something toward you.
Or rather, why are you able to act normal about this?
He admits that he likes that part about you, you are aware that this is a workplace and there shouldn't be personal business involved within.
However, Han can't help but wonder if he's the only one still thinking about that night.
Now that he thinks about it, you and him never really agreed on what to call this relationship, is it just casual or do you want to take it further, and is not talking about it an adult thing to do?
"Ugh, I don't know," he doesn't mean to let it out loud but thankfully, no one is there to hear it.
His eyes hovering over you again, he slightly swivels his office chair to the side and watches you checking files from one of your juniors. He finds it attractive that you have a crease between your eyebrows whenever you're focused on something and the way you flip the page then hold it between your fingers, oh, it does something to him.
"It looks good," you say as you put the files back, "You can proceed with this one."
Your junior takes the file back from you and holds it in front of her as she asks, "Will you come to our company dinner tomorrow night?"
You don't even consider it but answer right away, "Yes, sure, I'll be there."
Your junior responds with a warm smile, "That's great!"
After your junior leaves, you collect some files from your desk, get up, and bring them with you as you make your way toward his desk.
He doesn't know why but he shoots up from his chair as if he gets caught doing something. You stop by his desk and you have no idea how thankful he is, imagine if you walked past his desk, he would be so fucking embarrassed.
"Han, these are the documents for the next meeting," you say, showing him the files you're holding, "Can you organize them for me?"
"Absolutely!" He answers without a beat.
He thinks you have nothing else to do for him but you linger by his side and then slowly lean into his side while keeping the files open, covering half of your faces.
"Isn't the day after tomorrow is your birthday?" You ask.
His breath hitches either from the proximity or the fact that you know about this birthday, "Yes. How do you know?"
"Oh, well..." You slightly shrug instead of telling him the answer.
Taking him by surprise, you lean in closer and then place a soft kiss on his cheek. His breath catches in his throat and he feels a hiccup coming. He looks around to see if anyone saw that but the official remains lively as usual.
"What's that for?" He manages to ask while holding his cheek as if he is trying to hide the mark even though there is nothing but the searing feeling it leaves on his skin.
"An early birthday present," you simply answer with a smile then walk back to your desk.
Han used to dread company dinner because it requires him to drink and he's bad at drinking.
The first round is at a barbecue place, the drinking is moderate, and he can slow down the drinking by shoving food in between.
On the second round, they're going for a karaoke bar and that's when it gets tricky, someone will somehow notice if he hasn't drunk enough and force him to get on their level. If only they had any ideas that he'd be likely blacked out from drinking as much as them.
By the time the second round ends, Han finds himself stumbling on his way out of the karaoke bar. He's not drunk but he knows he's one drink away from it. Someone grabs his arm and without looking, he knows that it's you. No one likes to link their arms with him, except you.
"Hey, do you want to get out of here?" You keep your voice low to not let anyone else hear it.
"Yes," he answers without thinking and frankly, you can take him anywhere you want.
"Round three! Let's go!" The team manager shouts, half slurring his words and leading everyone to go.
"But–but how about...?" He stutters, pointing at their co-workers walking away and he's afraid that the two of you might get in trouble for ditching everyone else.
"Don't worry about it," you assure him, walking to the other way of where everyone else is going and at the end of the street, you hail a taxi.
It's obvious that he doesn't know where you're taking him until you tell the taxi driver to pull over and he steps out of the taxi, finding himself at the front of a hotel.
He follows you as you walk across the lobby, coming toward the reception to check in for a stay. The process only takes a few minutes and you get handed a keycard.
He can simply ask you why you're taking him here but it would be so naive of him, right? The most important thing is he likes where this is going.
Arrive at your floor, you lead the way to the room and even though he's still feeling a little lightheaded, his eyes can't seem to look away from watching your back figure as you walk in front of him with your hips swaying side to side and that pencil you always wear to work does nothing but accentuate the shape of your—
"I'm sorry, Han," you suddenly apologize as you walk up to a door and he guesses it must be the room you're assigned to.
"Yes?" He asks, confounded.
Instead of getting into the room first, you turn around on your feet and stand with your back facing the door while holding the keycard in your hands.
"You see I don't really know what you'd like for your birthday so..." your voice turns lower the more you speak but it's the soft gaze and the way you're looking at him through your lashes that suddenly makes it hard to breathe.
"I was thinking we could go shopping together but I can't help myself."
There's no physical contact whatsoever but he gets hot all over, he licks his lips as his eyes flick to your lips that tempted him to kiss.
"I've been thinking about being alone with you and all the things we could do together."
He is right to not ask the question but God, he likes the answer to it.
"So... will this do?" You ask, your eyes filled with wild, naughty glints.
Instead of answering, he takes the keycard from your hand and puts it close to the scanner on the handle of the door, it automatically clicks open.
Now, you know the answer. He couldn't ask for a better birthday present than what's going to happen in this hotel room.
-
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a-d-nox · 2 months ago
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astro hypothesis: dress for the occasion
everyone is always mentioning to dress like your venus sign. recently, i have seen a lot of tiktoks where people are like dress like your crush/boyfriend's venus sign to look like his dream girl. and i was like what about dressing for the occasion? which brought me here! grab your venus persona and take a look at the houses.
5h - prom, dances, dates, and clubs
5h cancer (4°, 16°, 28°) and/or 5h moon: elegance is key. you might be drawn to long, flowy gowns with shimmery fabric. something light but glowy! often the fabric is dark (black or midnight blue) or slivery/white. a sweetheart neckline or off the shoulder cut tends to look beautiful on these people. often you are drawn to semi-sheer fabric as it adds some mystique to your appearance.
5h libra (7°, 19°) and/or 5h venus: light pastels or ivory are likely to grab your attention but a plain white or black dress is likely to give you that elegant/timeless look that you want most in pictures to remember your day (otherwise, you might take pictures in a colored dress and turn on a black and white filter). you want the wow factor! so a-line, a ball gown, or fit-flare dresses might be your go to look. a floor length dress is likely a must for you. silk, satin, chiffon, and/or organza are likely on the tags of these dresses even if you don't know what these materials are by the naked eye. dresses with a sweetheart neckline or off the shoulder sleeves are likely to make you feel elegant. you may like very simple accessories - plain earrings, a dainty bracelet, small pendant necklace, classic heels, etc. a v-neckline, bateau, or strapless design is likely to fit your elegance same could be said about a low back dress.
5h aquarius (11°, 23°) and/or 5h uranus: you are likely to be drawn to the blue family (sky, sea, ocean, water, turquoise, etc.). iridescence/holographic/shimmery material might draw your attention in a store. you often go for something very atypical in the store (might be from seasons ago - its likely the last of its kind). something a-line, flowy, and/or high-to-low might be of interest to you - the cuts of a dress bring interest to your favorite parts of yourself (example, maybe its a two piece dress). something high neck or off the shoulder is likely of interest to you as well. a loose braid and/or waves might be all you need to finish out your look.
7h - wedding attire
7h aries (1°, 13°, 25°) and/or 7h mars: as a bride you should be wearing pure white. nudes or off-whites aren't likely to hold your attention anyway. grab the pure stark white. it is likely that reds are going to be an accent of this wedding - roses, nail, polish, bridesmaid dresses, etc. but if you aren't in the wedding party, go for the red whether its a fiery red or a deep burgundy, its the way to go! no matter if you are the bride, the guest, or a member of the wedding party - you should opt for a fit flare dress or mermaid silhouette. or be really dramatic and go for a deep slit, a plunge neckline, or something backless! the devil is in the details too so things like careful beading, sequins, or embroidery should be something critical to your look (if not the fit and/or the drama). alternatively, minimalism/modernism might be something you enjoy for your look.
7h gemini (3°, 15°, 27°) and/or 7h mercury: as a bride, you might lean towards ivory or whites with an undertone of some color (like a blush). you don't tend to go for the traditional white color, in my experience. if you are a guest or in the wedding party it is likely you will find yourself in soft pastel colors! movement is of the utmost importance to you so opt for a-line or flowy gown. you might also enjoy wearing things that are asymmetrical - the hemline might be high to low or you might like the one shoulder strap design. these people also like details in their dresses whether it is lace, embroidery, beading, ruffles, tiered skirts, or glitter - the options are endless. chiffon, tulle, or organza might be the fabrics for you because they are light and breathable.
6h - everyday clothes and workwear
6h pisces (12°, 24°) and/or 6h neptune: soft fabrics like cotton, silk, or jersey in gentle, soothing colors such as ocean blues, seafoam greens, lavender, and soft pinks. loose, flowing clothes like maxi skirts, wrap dresses, or wide-legged pants that move gracefully. style would likely be bohemian and free-spirited, incorporating layers, delicate patterns, or subtle prints (florals, paisley, etc.). clothes would be cozy and easy to wear—think oversized sweaters, soft cardigans, and flowy blouses. might like jewelry that is delicate, handmade, seashells, pearls, and/or celestial themed.
6h libra (7°, 19°) and/or 6h venus: these people have a natural sense of style and an appreciation for their appearance. outfits would likely be classic, well-tailored pieces in soft, neutral tones like blush pink, dove gray, cream, and pastel blues. the fabrics would be light and luxurious - like silk blouses, cashmere sweaters, or satin skirts. well-fitted blazers, A-line skirts, and or high-waisted trousers make them look polished and graceful. they effortlessly blend comfort with sophistication. everything else is minimal yet thoughtfully chosen - delicate gold or silver jewelry, a stylish handbag, etc.
9h - graduation and religious events
9h taurus (2°, 14°, 26°) and/or 9h venus: elegance, luxury, and comfort ("it has pockets too!"). a sleek, well-structured dress in an earthy tones like emerald green, soft brown, or blush pink. the fabric might be luxurious, like silk, satin, or velvet. a silhouette would likely be timeless and flattering - a wrap dress or an A-line dress that cinches at the waist, emphasizing femininity and grace is well suited for this placement. delicate embroidery or subtle jewelry accents. understated but beautiful accessories, like a simple gold necklace or pearl earrings.
9h leo (5°, 17°, 29°) and/or 9h sun: bold, glamorous, and attention grabbing. vibrant colors like gold, fiery red, or royal purple. the fabric might be something that shimmers or catches the light, such as sequined, satin, or metallic materials. a silhouette could be daring and statement-making, like a fitted flair dress, a high-low hemline, or an off-the-shoulder design. ruffles, a thigh-high slit, or an open back, ensures all eyes are on them. accessories would be bold—think large, sparkling earrings, a dramatic statement necklace, etc. yes, realize what my sub-header is for this section.
9h sagittarius (9°, 21°) and/or jupiter: it's never just one graduation or church event and thus never just one dress/opportunity. the dresses would likely have a regal, flowing quality to it. jewel tones like deep sapphire, royal blue, or amethyst. flowy, A-line, and/or empire waisted dresses that gives a sense of movement. fabric might be lightweight and ethereal, like chiffon, tulle, or silk. intricate embroidery, beading, etc. accessories would be tasteful but luxurious, like a delicate gold bracelet or a jeweled hairpiece.
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atrwriting · 1 year ago
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more, more, more — carmy x reader
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carmen berzatto x coworker!reader
listen to me. this man? this man?? so fucking slutty. so fucking slutty i can’t even think straight. i am absolutely AGHAST at how little writing there is of this man online. absolutely OUTRAGEOUS. he looks like that and none of us have done his character justice?? DISGRACEFUL.
i wrote this in direct response to how angry i am at how little there is.
as always, warnings… SMUT!, alcohol consumption, alcohol consumption with sex, smoking, p in v penetration, work relationships, overstimulation, carmen berzatto being an absolute mind blowing fuck on a table i mean in bed
also, minors fuck RIGHT the fuck off
barely edited we die like men
i stole that joke don’t come for me
anyway....
you didn’t really know how it happened.
you were once an unemployed law student, scared of drowning in bills, and eagerly awaiting a call back from anyone that would hire you — when she called.
natalie berzatto.
her voice was warm and comforting on the phone, and very eager to have you come in. she was relaying important information to you on the phone, and while you grabbed bits and pieces, it was hard to focus on anything else besides the sheer excitement of finally having a job. the job would be stressful, sure — but at least you wouldn’t be broke and stressed.
unfortunately, your first couple of shifts were a mess and a half. you took instructions well, and performed well, but in the hospitality business — that means nothing when an oven burner is out, a dishwasher doesn’t show up for a shift, richie starts barking, or when carmen’s upset.
carmen.
fucking carmen.
while soft spoken, there was nothing that could compare to the look of approval in his eye when you had completed a task to his standard. most people would consider the job of a hostess useless, or not a job at all — something to laugh at, but carmen? no. that man took your job very seriously, as he knew what it meant to provide the full experience to the customer.
however, when something was lacking in the kitchen and that experience was interrupted… carmen took the look of approval, almost gratefulness, away and replaced it with something that everyone felt like they had to walk around shards of glass.
when he was angry? oh, fuck… that could ruin anyone’s night.
the worst of it happened when his sister unexpectedly went into labor. two weeks early.
carmen had left the place screaming, and, in the process, had also left his things at the restaurant, including his jacket, wallet, keys, the lot — so to be nice you went to drop it off at his place. worried that he might be at the hospital, you texted him.
you: hey, going out for a drink. saw you forgot your stuff at the restaurant so i grabbed it because you’re otw. you home?
carmen: oh shit thanks. i’m home
so there you stood. at his front door, his stuff in hand.
you quickly adjusted your long hair, worried about your appearance. it was weird to show up to carmen’s place in your regular attire — seeing as though your regular attire on a night with your friends was black flare jeans, a tight black long sleeve v-neck that showed off your cleavage — you were concerned that he might be concerned with who he exactly employed. however, his niece was just born… he had more important things to worry about.
so you knocked.
and barely waited.
carmen was barely at the door a few seconds later before you came face to face with the man who constantly let exhaustion ride on his back.
“you good?” you immediately asked, handing over his stuff.
he nodded. “yeah, uh — thanks.”
“you look like you could use a drink,” you laughed. “want to come with?”
he shook his head, the corners of his lips somewhat curving upwards. “nah. day was hectic. you want one? come in — for a drink?”
you smiled. “i don’t want to intrude, especially after the berzatto family excitement of the day.”
“i owe you,” he sighed. “but don’t let me hold you up if your friends are waiting.”
you smiled. “one drink won’t hurt.”
one drink definitely did not hurt.
drink two and three definitely didn’t, either.
how much carmen made you laugh definitely made your stomach hurt, though. in a good way.
“you’re killing me,” you cackled. “who knew quiet carmen berzatto was such a good host.”
“you can call me carmy, y’know,” he spoke, saying his cigarette before pouring you another drink. “everyone else does.”
you shrugged. “you’re pretty professional in the kitchen. didn’t want to impose.”
“i don’t think you could impose a day in your life,” he chuckled. “i think you’re the only one that knows boundaries in that fuckin’ place.”
“says the mysterious one,” you giggled. “the only reason any of us know your nicknames is because richie likes to share your baby stories.”
“speaking of babies…” he took a drag. “thank you for helping sugar out so much. she told me to tell you how much she appreciates it.”
you shrugged. “‘s nothing.”
“nothing?” he scoffed. “you keep her sane. definitely keep me sane.”
“always got your back, chef,” you giggled.
he smiled, and ashed his cigarette once more. his long, thick fingers stretched around the circumference of his glass. one fingertip tapped against the glass and a few droplets of condensation fell to his countertop.
you were twisted around in your seat to face carmen, eyeing his attractive hands. in your peripheral vision, you saw him lift his head to cock it towards you and stare at you. the longing look sent shivers up your spine, but you gazed at him through your long lashes as you waited for his response.
“you do,” he spoke. “always have. we were lucky to find you. i - i was, i mean.”
“more like i was lucky get a call from natalie,” you laughed. “it’s so hard to find a well paying job nowadays.”
“heard,” he rasped. “you happy at the bear?”
“very,” you replied. “staff keeping you happy, chef?”
he chuckled. “when i’m not made to scream, yeah.”
“that’s fair. we’re lucky to have you.”
there was only so many things you could think of to say to carmen before you began to consider that you were imposing. you slapped your hands against your thighs — a implicit signal it was time for you to go. he led you to the door, where he reached out for your coat. you smiled at him, thanked him for the drink, and slid your arms through the jacket as he held it out for you.
you don’t know what caused you to, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was you — or maybe it was how good carmen smelled — but you glanced up and over your shoulder at the polite man behind you.
you didn’t have anything to say. frankly, you said something last — it was his turn. however, carmen’s sense of societal expectations started and ended with the door to the kitchen. but there, by his front door? basically holding you by the shoulders, and staring back down at you? he had nothing to say.
however… his eyes could share a thousand things about him. more specifically, emotions. carmen’s eyes showed exhaustion, a bit of dehydration, to keep it a buck, but there was so much intensity in those crystal irises. they were a stunning, clear blue… but with the way carmen was gazing down at you, there appeared to be no clear thought in his head.
and he did nothing.
so you could do nothing.
you found yourself disappointed at his actions, or rather — lack thereof.
you simply smiled, and went to turn away. you reached for his door knob, when you felt the slightest brush of calloused fingers against the skin of your wrist. the feeling shocked you, pricking at your nerves, but you didn’t stop until you felt those fingers enclose around the circumference of your wrist.
like they had with the glass, moments ago.
you turned back, letting your long and thick eyelashes ghost over your line of sight. all you could see was a frozen chef, standing tired, but staring back at you.
when his gaze fell to the floor, you stepped closer. he glanced up.
you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you softly asked, “what’s up, carmy?”
“first time i had someone over.” his parted lips closed so he could swallow, and his eyes drifted between your lips and the floor. the words were right there, on his tongue. they were so close you could feel them, taste them. he replied, “i, um… don’t want it to end, uh — i guess.”
you smiled and turned around in place, barely inches from his face. his breaths were pushing past his lips in small, light puffs that hit the tip of your chin. it was like he was conscious of everything he was emitting; his vibe, where he was looking, even his fucking exhales. he was cautious and frozen and all you wanted was for him to be relaxed, or as close to, as he was moments ago.
“already drank you out of house and home, carmy. what else you got in mind?”
his eyes widened, but his voice stayed level. “what else i got in mind?”
you hummed in agreement with a coy smile on your face. you folded your lip between your teeth and stepped backwards. carmy glanced at your hips and feet hesitantly, shifting his weight slightly. while his eyes were trained on you, his parted lips quivered slightly which told you that there was still some nervousness lingering in him. with every step you took, carmy took one as well. you kept stepping backwards, and carmy kept stepping forwards, until your back was pressed against the wall.
carmy’s lips weren’t slightly quivering anymore. there was no hesitation in his figure when he leaned down slightly and rested a flat palm against the drywall above your head. his breath was hitting you on both cheeks — as if they weren’t hot enough already. inside you were screaming. you were screaming, and screaming, and screaming and all you wanted to do was grab both sides of his face and smash your lips to his. you wanted to, but you wouldn’t. you wanted to see if he would.
“you know,” you spoke, raising your back. your cold palm pressed against his cheek. it was burning — almost as bad as yours. “even though you’re the boss… never seen you actually taste anything.”
“no?” he rasped. the gruffness in his voice pricked at your cheeks and went straight to your core. “and what do you want me to taste, sweetheart?”
you released your grip from his cheek and brought your hand down to your face. with a manicured nail, you tapped the plumpness of your bottom lip. you stared into his eyes — a dare.
“fuck.”
with his free hand, carmen wrapped your hand in his own and pressed it to the middle of his chest. he held it there, pressed against his heart, and surprisingly it was the exact spot you wanted to hold him. you wanted to hear — no, feel his heart that was beating slightly faster than normal. when carmen finally pressed his chapped lips against yours… you saw stars.
the alcohol coursing through your veins made you melt into the man before you. his hand on the wall slid down until he was rubbing the side of your neck, and then gripping the base of your skull. his fingers, his beautiful, skillful fingers threaded through your hair like it was one of his pieces of art and he was creating something. he twisted your strands until he had your head bent back, practically supported by the heavy palm of his hand. the motion made you gasp into his mouth. carmen swallowed it whole. every. last. bit.
“y’taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he moaned against your lips.
you hummed with him. the warmth of his body engulfed your body into his until the moment started and ended with carmen anthony berzatto. you could taste the liquor on his tongue that danced with your own. with every breath he took, bits of smoke would linger between the two of you. it went straight to your head, swallowing your senses whole. you didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the cigarettes, or carmen himself, but you felt like you were swimming.
“this okay, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling away for a second. a thumb of his stroked the skin of your cheek as he stared at you, waiting for feelings of regret from you. “d-do you want me to stop?”
“please don’t stop, carmy,” you gasped, pulling him back into. “you’re perfect.”
you didn’t expect that would make carmen slide his hands down your body and grasp the back of your thighs. his fingertips pressed into your skin, pulling your legs up and around his waist. you squealed against his teeth and couldn’t believe you had found yourself in this situation.
it’s not that carmen wasn’t handsome, no. the man was drop dead gorgeous in a tortured artist way, and you always had a thing for men that looked like they needed a hug but wouldn’t admit it. but… he was your boss.
what could you do about that? it’s not like you could stop now. even if you had told him to stop, got your shit and left — the damage was done. you both had crossed the boundaries, and you were going to reap what you sewed.
in that case… might as well have a little fun with it.
he had placed you on a neighboring table. his large hands gripped the flesh of your thighs and you couldn’t help but whine into his embrace. his tongue glided over your lips and teeth and with your tongue in the messiest way possible and all you could chant in your head was more, more, more.
and that’s when you found yourself pulling at the bottom of his t-shirt.
he stepped back slightly, throwing his shirt over his head. his swollen lips were parted, and his eyes searched your face. you found your chest rising and falling with anticipation, and realized you should’ve been more concerned with how he was dealing with all of this.
“you okay, carmy?” you whispered.
he nodded, letting a few fingertips of his ghost over the skin of your cheek. his crystal eyes glanced down to your lips.
“we can stop, you know,” you whispered again. “it’s okay.”
he nodded again before dipping his head down to the side of your neck. his plump lips left wet kisses on the sensitive skin and you moaned into the open air. you widened the space between your knees, allowing for carmen to wedge himself between your thighs.
“you’re always talking such good care of me, sweetheart, so good to me,” he rasped against your throat, sucking on the skin. “but all i want to do right now is have my fingers inside you. y’gonna let me?”
“yes, carmy,” you whined. “yes please.”
“such a polite girl f’me.” carmy’s mouth was attacking your throat. moans escaped passed your lips like carmy was squeezing them from you, claiming them. his fingers traveled down the front of your clothes and stopped at the button of your jeans. sliding it open, carmen berzatto slipped his perfect hands into your jeans.
“right there, please,” you gasped once his fingers found your bundle of nerves.
his fingers dipped into your core and spread it all over where you needed him most. warmth began to spread through your hips and your knees widened for him. his drew circles different ways until he noticed that when he drew counterclockwise circles, you bit your lip and your eyes appeared to involuntarily flutter shut. you felt carmy smirk against the skin of your neck.
“what made you this wet, baby?” he hummed, sucking at the base of your throat.
“you, carmy,” you whined. “felt it as soon as i saw you when i first walked in. needed you so badly.”
he smirked again. “so bringing my things wasn’t of the purest intentions?”
heat rose to your cheeks with the sensual actions that were taking place below the belt and carmy’s accusation. you grew worried at what he would say if you said no, that you honestly just wanted to help him out… but if carmy wanted to play like that, you could play.
“n-no,” you whined as the pleasure began to spread throughout your whole body.
carmy was holding you so close to him. it was like he was your support — supporting you through such a physically vulnerable moment. your legs were practically shaking at this point, trying to take everything he was giving you and not start sobbing. you were grabbing at any piece of him you, wanting to kiss him — but he wouldn’t let you. fucking bastard.
“good,” he stated, staring you dead in the eyes. your mouth fell open at his response, a pant pushing passed your lips. “i don’t have the purest of intentions when i do this.”
carmen berzatto slid two long, thick fingers inside you ever so slowly. the motion pulled small moans out of you like you were a pathetic mess of a puddle and the sun rose and set with him. you felt his fingertips press against the upper wall inside you, while another finger worked at your clit, and all you could do was hold onto him tighter.
“it feels so good, carmy,” you whined. “i love your fingers so, so much.”
“yeah, baby?” he breathed against your ear. “you wanna cum f’me?”
“faster, please, i will,” you sobbed. you fucking sobbed as the tapping motion inside you hastened. “oh god — oh my fucking god —“
“that’s it, sweetheart? that’s what you needed?”
“yes, yes — fucking — fuck — yes.”
“f-fuck —“ he groaned broken, incoherent phrases against your throat. his breath was hot and heavy on your skin and all you could think about was how good he felt inside of you, and also how badly you wanted all of him inside you. interrupting your thoughts, he spoke, “show me how good it feels, baby. finish all over my fingers f’me.”
that broke you.
that fucking broke you.
it was like a shock of lightning hit you straight in your core and the power from the strike spread throughout your entire body. every muscle of yours went taut as you arched your chest into carmy’s.
with his expert hands, he fucked you through the orgasm. “that’s it, baby. that’s it. keep cumming for me.”
it was like carmen berzatto knew everything to say to make you shatter. you couldn’t even breathe — all you could do was give into the spreading feeling of bliss and hold your breath while it washed over you. it was wave, after wave, after wave of mind-numbing orgasm and carmen held you through all of it.
“pretty girl.”
“i know, baby. you’re such a sweet girl f’me.”
“that’s it, sweetheart. take it.”
once the waves finished hitting you, your chest was rising and falling heavily. carmen peppered light kisses along your neck, being gentle as to your state, but you were having none of it. you reached for his belt.
“greedy.”
you smiled lazily at him. “any objections, chef?”
he smirked at you, letting his fingers ghost over your sensitive core. a shiver ran up and down your spine at the almost painful action. “be careful — or i’ll make you cum again.”
you knew he wasn’t joking. you let out a slight giggle before you dragged the zipper and his boxers down. freeing his cock, you pumped his shaft.
carmy was once dominantly kissing your neck and whispering mean things in your ear, but now he was using the crook of your neck to support his forehead.
“you have such a pretty cock, carmy,” you whispered in his ear. there was something so comforting about being intimate with a man where you both could be vulnerable, and you weren’t sure if you would ever let it go. you want him everywhere he would let you have him. “i don’t know if i want it in my mouth or inside me more.”
he chuckled at that, crooning back into your embrace when you would touch a very sensitive part of him. “dirty girl — you’re so fuckin’ evil.”
you were worried the friction was becoming too much for him, but you didn’t want to raise your hand to your own lips, so you swiped some of the juices from your core and used it to lubricate the skin of carmy’s cock. it was a quick motion — you didn’t think he’d notice, and plus his eyes were most likely closed.
but when he spoke, you froze.
“do-do that again.” his voice was rough with lust. “do that again for me.”
you were hesitant at first, but you decided to make a show of it. you slowly dragged two fingers up the length of your slit and rubbed a very slow circle around the circumference of your clit. you gasped at the sensitivity, slightly jumping at the touch.
“fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned, breath humid on your neck.
you smirked at his response and reached for his cock. your hand slipped along the smooth skin of his cock, drawing a deep groan from carmen. the poor man was so sensitive — almost aching from what giving everything he had to you previously felt like.
“so big, carmy,” you breathed. “so big and pretty.”
“y’know what would be prettier?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw line. “watching you put it inside you. can you do that, baby?
you smiled at him devilishly. carmy’s hands shoved the rest of your jeans down your legs and flung them somewhere in the room. your pussy was aching — dripping for the man before you. the sensitivity had left you, no longer prickling at your nerve endings. all that was left was the want for more — anything carmy had to give you.
“please,” you whined, rubbing the head of his cock against your glistening folds.
“i love when you beg f’me,” he groaned. “such a good fuckin’ girl.”
both of your lines of sight drifted down to the view of your hips. you both watched in awe as you lined carmy up with your entrance as he pushed his hips towards you.
the throws of passion and want for carmy were intense, sure — but so was the want to enjoy this while he could. he pushed in the tip of his cock, groaning slightly as your tight hole encased him. you whines at the barely filled feeling — so empty, needing more. carmy, however? carmy didn’t care. he wanted to feel every push and pull of your muscles between your hips.
carmy kept his eyes turned down at your pussy and you swallowed more and more of him inside you. he gripped the flesh of your waist, fingertips digging into you. your own hands were splayed our flat against the cool countertop of the table — a direct juxtaposition of the boiling feeling that electrified the top of every inch of your skin. you whined as carmy took his time with his thrusts, pulling back every so often when he felt resistance, and then pushing back in ever so slightly, yet slightly farther, each time.
“please, more,” you gasped, folding your lip between your teeth. “i want all of you.”
“baby isn’t patient, huh?” he asked, continuing with his motions. “gotta have it all, when you want it?”
“i can’t be teased right now,” you sobbed. it was pathetic how needy you were, but fucking christ did it turn carmy on.
“this what you want, baby?” he asked, pushing into you deeper.
your walls were squeezing him like he was the only thing that existed to you. the burn at your entrance was something so bittersweet, something so delicious — you didn’t know how you were going to keep control and make this special for him as well, let alone how you weren’t going to cum right then. but you didn’t care — you didn’t have the strength to care.
“yes, carmy — please,” you begged, bucking your hips into him weakly. “fuck — your cock feels so good.”
“yeah, baby?” he pressed into deeper. “so impatient you can’t handle it slow?”
“i want you to fuck me, carm,” you bit with lust dripping from every word. “fuck me — use me however you want — please.”
fuck.
that set him off.
carmy was a patient and low maintenance man, sure, out of necessity and convenience mostly. however, when he had the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, with a dirty mouth to match, talking back to him, and begging him to be selfish?
fuck patience. fuck ease. and fuck being selfless.
carmen’s grip tightened on your waist, and he pushed the last parts of his cock inside you.
it immediately hit you right where you needed him — that soft, sensitive spot so deep that barely anyone before him could dream of reaching. your walls gripped the smooth skin of his cock and you screamed. you fucking wailed when he finally pounded into you painfully, but so fucking sweetly.
“dirty — fucking — girl,” he grunted, thrusting upwards into your pussy.
there was nothing like the sight of carmy finally taking what he wanted. no expression of shame, or guilt, or hesitation on his face — just a man, slightly bent over before you, inside of you, holding you so close to him because, in that moment, you could give him what he wanted — needed. and, in that moment, all he needed was you.
the side of his face was pressed against yours, breathing heavily into your ear. the few groans he let escape his throat were guttural — almost animalistic. they went straight to your core, practically flooding around his cock. your whines of pleasure forced his hips forward and back faster and harder with each motion. balancing your weight and carmy’s with a firm hand of yours behind you on the table, you clamped your free hand on the back of his neck. you twisted a few stray strands of his hair around your fingers, tugging at them. every thrust caused you to pull his hair, him, closer and harder into you.
“laythefuckdown,” he spat, to your surprise.
the command startled you, sure — but it also made you bite your lip in anticipation. he pressed a wet, heavy kiss to your cheek, throwing butterflies in your lower stomach, as you released him. before you could lay down, he stopped you.
“you want to give me what i want, baby?” he whispered against your lips.
you nodded, gazing at him with dark, lust filled eyes.
“then i want your pussy to finish around my cock,” he stated. “think you can do that f’me?”
“y-yeah,” you replied, shakily, but full of trust.
you laid down and carmy regained his footing at the end of the table, keeping his cock pressed firmly inside you as he stood above you. his cock twitched against your most sensitive spot inside you, and you whined at the new angle. he gripped one of your hips firmly, but let his other hand ghost up your glistening lips.
“such a pretty fucking pussy,” he rasped, gazing at it. “takes my cock so well. but right here…”
he pressed his thumb against your clit.
you would’ve jumped if his hand wasn’t keeping you locked to the table.
“this is what i want,” he spat. “so fucking pretty.”
he began rubbing rough, fast circles on your clit. your legs were shaking from the overstimulation, and you thought you could cry from the sensation. your back arched off the table, and your hands struggled to find something to grip — to balance you as carmy tortured you.
but then his cock started working itself back into you again, hitting that spot that needed him so badly.
“think you can cum like this, baby?” he asked, taunting you. “be a good girl for me, yeah?”
“yes — !” you groaned, reaching for the end of the table with one hand. grabbing it, you tried to steady yourself, but it was no use. not with carmy. “fuck — it’s so much — it’s too much carmy —“
“gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”
you threw your head up to stare at the man. he was rocking into you like that was the only thing he knew, fucking you like it was the only thing he wanted, but there was so much focus on his eyes. so much focus on you.
“gonna give me what i want?”
“yes, yes,” you were nodding your head so pathetically, so sweetly for him. tears were practically threatening to spill over the corners of your eyes, but they glistened at him, and only him, and god did it fuck with him. “please, carmy — let me cum for you.”
“do it,” he ordered. “fuck, baby — cum for me.”
your hips were bucking against his pelvis and his hand, too erratic for him to be precise like he wanted to. you were chasing his fingertips, chasing the orgasm that even in his selfish state he was so generous to give. whines left your throat involuntarily as the intensity in your lower abdomen grew, and grew, and grew. your eyes were screwed shut as you pushed yourself to your elbows, holding yourself up as you couldn’t help but curl into yourself. carmen may have been looking at you, or something else — it didn’t matter. all you saw was the black of your eyelids, until is was white.
white. pure white.
your finger nails dug into the meat of your palms as the heat spread from your womb to the entirety of your body. every nerve ending and hair rose to the highest point of height they could, and you held your breath. the feeling of immense pleasured you washed over you — wave after wave, after wave, after wave. it hit you, it crashed into you, it fucking drowned you — it swallowed you whole until you were gasping for air. your orgasm was violent — practically mine splitting. you were shaking. you were sensitive beyond belief, beyond repair — and the prickling feeling wouldn’t stop. you were gasping for air as you looked down, only to find carmy’s hand still working between your thigh.
still rubbing those fucking circles.
“c-carmy,” you sputtered, tears wet in the corner of your eye. “please — i c-can’t.”
“shhh,” he whispered. “just keep cumming, baby. just keep cumming for me.”
your chest split open at that, throwing you back against the table top. shivers went up and down your spine as you took carmy’s torture.
“that’s it, baby. that’s it.”
his words were music to your ears as you screamed for him.
“ohh, fucking shit — that’s it —“ he hissed. “just like that. take it all for me — oh, fuck.”
you were dazed and confused on carmy’s table, basically seeing stars. absolutely useless, fucked out beyond words. you felt the weight and warmth of carmy’s body lean over, and rest against yours, as his hips sloppily rocked into you.
you wrapped your legs around the middle of carmy’s back, locking him in place. one hand went to clamp on the back of his head, and the other pressed against the side of his cheek.
against his lips, you whispered, “cum for me, carmy, please. i want to feel you inside of me.”
“good — fucking —“ he grunted, pressing his lips to yours in a farm, hard kiss as he shook. carmy’s tongue shoved itself into your mouth, and down your throat. carmy was everywhere — so deep in every part of you. you hummed with each moan of his you swallowed, rocking your hips against his and rocking him through his orgasm. gasps left his lips as he gripped any part of you he could, doing anything he could to hold onto you and keep you in place.
“holy f-fucking shit,” he gasped against your cheek, pressing kisses to your cheek and the length of your neck. “that — that was — it was so —“
“i know,” you spoke, giggling slightly.
carmy laid his head against your collarbone and you weaved his wet curls around your fingers. he rested fully against you, completely relaxed.
“fuck your friends,” he mumbled. “stay here tonight — as long as, um — you want to, that is.”
your giggle hummed in your chest. carmy’s confidence leaving him in the middle of the sentence surprised you slightly, but not enough to leave you unamused. “‘m not imposin’?”
he chuckled at that, and pulled you up from the table and into his arms. "fuck off."
-----
lmk what you think :) love yall -L
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jyoongim · 10 months ago
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Based on ep 5 
ALASTOR
ALASTOR
BARKK BARK AOOOGAAA
Love a caring, defensive, sadistic, cannibilistic daddy demon
Title: Acts of service
Themes: slight submissive y/n, protective, blood, demon form, fluff, relationship dynamic, implied married couple, human life mentioned
Alastor can take a lot of shit…but even he has a breaking point….
(hehehehehehe)
Charlie’s hotel was not making the progress she wanted and so one day she shocked everyone with four words;
“My dad is coming”
The hotel was in a state of frenzy.
Everyone seemed excited to meet the King of Hell.
For once everyone was on one page and getting the place in tip top shape.
You had finally calmed Charlie down from her nth breakdown and had started primping yourself for the big man’s visit.
“Honestly its about time Luci showed his bright ass around here” you said as you patted some blush on.
Alastor was standing in the corner of your bedroom; oozing darkness menacingly.
He had been rather quiet and for once not making a fuss.
You almost smirked, whether or not he admits it
He adored Charlie 
And HATED being bested in anything.
“Youre glowering dear” you say as you finish applying your flawless makeup.
“I just dont see what all the hoopla is about. So what if the Morningstar is coming…its just charlie’s dad” Alastor grumbled in a rant.
You giggled “Yea but this is important to Charlie so no funny business mister”
His big smile tightened and his eyes narrowed “no promises”
You and Charlie greeted Lucifer
“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”
He damned near choked Charlie in a bear hug before turning to you
“Long time no see Sis” you hummed and gave him a big squeeze, but not before hissing lowly in his ear “do not fuck this up Luci”
He swallowed and you grinned before walking to stand by Alastor.
You nudged him towards Lucifer and reluctantly he introduced himself.
“Alastor sir pleasure to put a face to the name”
Lucifer shot you a look before eyeing Alastor suspiciously
“Uuuhh and you are?”
Alastor eye twitched “i’m the host of the hotel…you might know me from my radio broadcast hmm?”
Lucifer shrugged “nope guess thats why Charlie named it the HAZbin hotel”
You facepalmed and charlie was visibly getting nervous as you could literally see Alastor’s ego flare
“HA HA HA actually i came up with that”
“Ha Ha Ha well it wasnt very clever!”
They were in each other faces now
Alastor growled “ha ha HA fuck you”
You interjected, getting between the two, mostly Alastor
 “Boys Boys reign it in PLEASE” you threw a look at Alastor, who straightened his suit.
You sighed and turned your attention to Charlie 
“Dear why dont you tell your dad the whole point of your hotel” you gave a tense smile.
“Y/n is right dad! Alastor here has been tremendous help with the hotel…i wouldnt have made it this far without him” lucifer made a face.
You could see the wheels turning in Alastor’s head
He was up to no good.
“Yeeeeessss we are all very proud of Charlie. I am honored to fulfill any wish this lovely young lady has” 
He hugged Charlie and it took all of your willpower to not laugh at Lucifer’s annoyed look.
You giggled as he completely ignored Alastor and in turn to the others.
Charlie introduced her girlfriend and you could literally see his shoulders ease.
“OH thank Hell youre a lesbian! Cool cool i totally approve of THIS!”
Lucifer went on to give luxurious suggestions to Charlie, which Alastor shot down.
You sighed lovingly at Alastor’s antics.
He might have been the big bad Radio Demon, but he really was a softie when he wanted to be.
Definitely would have made a great dad…
You blushed at the thought.
Lucifer and Alastor were currently bickering with each other about who was the better father figure.
When suddenly the door flew open and a short, voluptuous, 1920 styled woman bursted in.
Your eyes widened “Mimzy?”
She squealed and embraced you in a tight hug, you kissed each other’s cheeks in greeting
“Ooooh y/n darling how you’ve been? Its been too long” she asked.
You grinned and gave a shrug “ooh it hasnt been that long has it?”
She greeted Alastor and gave you an astonished look “Y/n darling you still with dollface here?” you felt everyone eyes shift to you and you felt your eye twitch a bit but said nothing.
She begged to have you chat with her but you told her youll catch up her later, as you were helping Charlie and Alastor with Lucifer.
Not many people knew what your relationship with Alastor, hell not many people knew about Alastor life in general.
And you kind of liked to keep it that way but Mimzy was a talker if you ever saw one.
But Mimzy was not was one to just show up just out of nowhere…
She wanted something
You and Alaster were trailing behind Charlie as she explained the purpose of the hotel when Husker appeared to the two of you, addressing Alastor
“Boss a word with you” you quirked a brow when Alastor kindly shooed you off to have his discussion. You walked a bit aways before morphing into the wall and listened in on their conversation
“What is it?”
“You and I both know that Mimzy only pops her ass up when she needs somethin, that bitch is trouble and who knows what kind of shit she got into to come running to you”
True. 
“Dont worry so much Husker, its nothing i cant handle, besides who in their right mind would cross me?” 
“I mean…youve been gone a while and it aint like no one knows why-”
He was cut off
“And they dont need to know” that sharp smile was tight
Alastor patted Husker’s head condescendingly; like a pet.
Husker shoved his hand away angrily.
“Big talk for someone who’s also on a leash”
You saw Alastor glitch, eyes turning to black and glowing dials
Uh oh.
“What did you say?”
Your eyes widened as contract chains shot out at Husker, wrapping around his neck
Alastor was menacingly toying with the chain as he growled
“If you ever say that again i will tear your soul apart and broadcast your screams for every disrespectful wretch WHO DARES TO QUESTION ME!”
Husker was shaking like a leaf and you were stunned; Alastor rarely ever lost his composure.
When Alastor disappeared down the hall you morphed to Husker to ease his nerves
“Oh Husker are you ok?” you asked as you tried soothed his nerves.
He shook it off (not really) and grumbled “fucking asshole”
You headed back to the lobby with Husker when a loud BAM was heard.
What the fuck?
“Mimizy you skank c’mon out here!”
You see Mimzy hide behind the bar and raise a eyebrow.
You frown, going to heave her over the counter
“Mimzy care to enlighten me about what the actual fuck is that” 
She sweatdropped “i-i may or may not have borrowed some money from a loan shark”
Your frown deepened “how. Much. money?”
“O-o fifty…grand”
You hissed.
The hotel was shaking and was being heavily damaged
You pulled charlie out of the way as some debris fell from the ceiling and hissed at Lucifer “arent you gonna do something!?”
He was trying to make this a life lesson and now was NOT the time.
You growled and went to march right outside to give those goons a piece of your mind when a clawed hand settled on your shoulder.
“Dont worry dear ill handle this”
“But Alastor…”
His smile turned wild “its about time i reminded everyone why i am here…a reminder to not fuck with the Radio Demon!”
He transformed. Antlers out and black tentacles flaring.
You watch him grow big in size and rip the gangsters apart, eating a few.
You smiled wickedy, hells he was hot
After he had his fun he shrunk back to normal and you launched yourself at him
Lovingly you purred into his neck “you ok now?”
He grinned, nuzzling you “i missed blowing off some steam”
Mimzy approached the two of you and you frowned, opening your mouth to say something but Alastor beat you to it
“I think you should go Mimzy. Now”
She was shocked. Usually Alastor let her off the hook and it was you who normally told people off.
“Y-you cant be serious…”
His eyes narrowed “I mean it. You brought danger to this place just for me to clean up your mess. I wont allow that here”
He was putting his foot down. You leaned into him, happy.
You flashed her a sharp grin “i agree Mimzy, you should go”
She blinked “you backing up your hubby over ya own friend? y/n!”
She hissed at Alastor “you think i dont know you? You cant really give a shit about this place”
You crossed your arms, giving her a pointed look, hissing as you felt your eyes glow in anger “leave Mimzy. While i’m the one being nice”
She huffed and turned to leave, but not before flipping you both off.
You relaxed and turned to Alastor, who was looking smug.
Tugging on his bowtie you craned his neck to your level, purring
 “Bedroom now dear”
His ears perked and his smile grew wider “feeling big emotions doll?”
“Ooh you have no idea”
With a flick of your hand the hotel was restored and you were whisking the lanky red demon upstairs to blow off some steam of your own
….
extra:
"what y/n and Alastor are married?!"
charlie blinked "yea i thought you guys knew that"
"WHAT THE FUCK!"
2K notes · View notes
punkshort · 4 months ago
Note
Hi! I would be more than happy with a drabble about reader regaining a memory-maybe an important one for her and joel-but if this doesn't really inspire you, please don't feel obligated to write it, as I wouldn't want you to struggle because of me
After all, I'm more than happy to read anything else you decide to write!❤️
PS roommates is so so good, I'm looking forward to the next chapter!
Ahh thank you so much! I'm so glad you answered, I have no problem putting on my thinking cap for this! I think we could all use a little fluff today... I hope you enjoy! And thank you again for all your support the past year ❤️
three words
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An I Know Who You Are drabble
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: You remember another memory, this one more special than the rest.
Warnings: fluff, implied smut, amnesia
WC: 1.2K
"It's getting late," you mumbled, your eyes closed as you breathed deeply into Joel's chest. The very last thing you wanted to do was get dressed and go home, but you had patrol early in the morning and you didn't trust yourself to wake up early enough to go home and clean up beforehand.
You felt his chest vibrate as he hummed, his hand dragging lazily up and down your bare back, holding you close and just as unwilling to let you go.
"Stay."
You groaned but buried your face deeper, now angling it towards his flushed neck. "I don't have any clothes here."
"Then maybe you should keep some clothes here."
"I could, but that doesn't help me now."
Joel sighed and turned onto his side, tugging you into him, molding you to him and filling every crack and splinter the world left before you. "Wear my clothes."
You laughed softly, the image of Joel's flannel hanging five inches past your fingertips as you struggled to ride in his oversized clothes just too amusing.
"As much as I appreciate the offer," you began as you pulled away, meeting some resistance from his arms, "I don't think that would work."
He groaned and rolled onto his back, the longing evident in his eyes as you slowly stood and stretched, your naked body pulling and bending before seeking out your clothes strewn about his room.
"Move in with me."
You stood abruptly, your jeans and socks tucked protectively against your chest as you stared back at him in shock.
"What?"
He sat up in bed and flicked on his lamp. "Move in with me," he repeated. Your eyes trailed down his broad chest, evidence of the love bites you left on him a mere hour earlier already darkening.
"Oh-" you croaked, feeling your face flare with heat. To hide it, you looked back down at the ground to find the rest of your clothes. "Uh, don't you think that's a little fast?"
"No," he answered, watching as you struggled to pull your underwear back on. "I love you 'n I want you here all the time."
You were in the process of pulling your bra strap over your shoulder when his words reached your ears, knocking into you so hard you forgot to breathe. "W-what did you just say?" you whispered, hand frozen on your shoulder, eyes wide and filled with bewilderment.
He shrugged one shoulder and gave you a little smirk. "I love you."
Your lower lip trembled and you dropped your jeans to the floor. "I love you, too," you said softly.
His eyes lit up and his smile grew wider. "Then quit standin' over there 'n get back in bed with me."
You giggled and hastily swiped away a tear that fell before scrambling back into bed, allowing him to tug the comforter over you as you wrapped your arms around his middle. He cupped your jaw and scanned your face once more before pressing a tender kiss to your lips, so soft and sweet that it stole your breath.
"Maybe I'll just end up being sick tomorrow morning," you murmured against his mouth, dragging your lips down his throat and nipping playfully at his Adam's apple. He rolled on top of you, holding himself up on his elbows. He closed his eyes and sighed, reveling in the feel of your skin pressed against his.
"Yeah, that -" he paused and gasped when you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, grinding into him as your kisses on his neck grew feverish. "That sounds 'bout right."
-
You awoke with a start, eyes flashing wide open as you stared at the white ceiling, replaying the dream over and over in your mind. Was it a dream? Or was it real? It felt real. You were getting better at distinguishing between the two now.
Rolling your head to the side, you smiled when you saw Joel sleeping so peacefully beside you. His lips were parted and he was snoring softly, looking perfectly content. You almost didn't want to wake him, but you knew it would be worth it.
"Joel," you whispered, pulling the sheet against your neck. You rolled onto your side and ran your palm across the sharp planes of his chest. He mumbled in his sleep and his hand slowly came up to engulf yours, his fingers big and thick and calloused compared to your own. You repeated his name a little louder this time and he finally cracked one eye open.
"Mornin'," he said, voice gravelly and thick with sleep. Every time you heard it, it made your lower abdomen pull and a familiar warmth spread between your thighs.
"I had a dream," you told him, excitement bubbling up as you bit down on your lower lip. His eyes opened wider and suddenly he looked much more alert.
"A dream or a memory?"
"Memory, I think."
He grinned and sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What was it?"
You stretched, a slow smile spreading across your face as you looked up at him. "I think it was when we first said I love you."
He grinned and scratched his chin. "That's a good one."
"I was getting ready to go back home because I had patrol in the morning," you began, and he nodded along. "You told me you wanted me to move in because you loved me. You said it so casually, like it was obvious or something."
"Thought it was obvious," he chuckled.
"It felt like I already knew but I was still surprised to hear you say it."
He gazed down at you warmly. "Then you said it back."
"Yeah," you whispered, threading your fingers with his. "I said it back."
"That was a good day," he told you before leaning forward, gently brushing your lips together.
"So it was real?"
"Yeah," he whispered, then slowly slanted his mouth against yours, his lips leisurely massaging your lips like he had all the time in the world. You took a deep breath and wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close.
It had been a while since you had a memory come back, but it felt like each time it happened, no matter how big or small, it felt clearer.
"Do you think this means I'll remember everything one day?" you couldn't help but ask as he settled between your legs, his mouth dragging down your chin.
"Don't know, baby," he admitted, his focus clearly shifting towards something else as his hands began to push up the material of your sleep shirt.
Your heart fluttered in your chest as you anxiously chewed the inside of your cheek. "If I don't, that would be okay, right?" you asked, your voice coming out so timid and small that it made him stop in his tracks. He pushed himself up onto his forearms so he could look you in the eye.
"'Course it would."
You nodded and felt a sliver of relief, but he could tell you still held some doubt.
"Hey," he said gently, "it don't matter if you remember everythin'. 'Cause we'll make new memories together, alright?"
You smiled and he watched you visibly relax, your shoulders dropping back and your brow smoothing out. "Yeah."
He grinned and pecked your lips before picking up where he left off on the crook of your neck.
"Good. 'Cause I wanna make a new memory right now."
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beneathashadytree · 4 months ago
Note
We need double fish dick sizes /j
And you shall get them nonnie!! I hadn’t thought of them before, but when you sent in this ask I sat down and brainstormed for a hot minute, so here come the headcanons I have about Rafayel’s Lemurian form‼️ NSFW ahead, obviously, monsterfucking tropes (literally nothing is realistic here), and reader is gender-neutral!
To anyone else reading this, my requests are still closed!! These are just my ramblings, or old requests I had🫶🏽
Tip jar!
Masterlist
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Now, Rafayel’s Lemurian form has an entirely different lower half, obviously, so it does make sense that finer details of his anatomy change too
I would say that he has two… appendages, not cocks per se, and I’ll explain this in a minute
What does resemble a human cock, is really nothing short of absolutely pleasurably torturous, and would be quite literally physically impossible for a normal human to take
10 inches in length, and that’s just me trying to censor things a little… so yes, no one can take him to the hilt (let’s be —ironically—realistic, people)
Girth is pretty complicated, and here’s why:
He’s got a really wide, flared base, but it’s rather thin there, and then he grows narrow in width until his tip
After the flared base, he’s actually got a rounder circumference, so while the base feels more of a stretch, his actual length is what makes them feel so full once he’s buried inside them
Rafayel’s cock has a delicious upward curve near his tip, and it’s made all the better by the slightly angular curves to the mushroom-head
Bonus points for the thick vein that runs along the underside! It’s almost ridge-like, and pairs perfectly with the slight ridges along the sides
I’m a firm believer in the fact that everything related to Rafayel is insanely pretty, so yes, even his Lemurian cock is bathed in gorgeous shades of deep purple, lavender, and a sweet bubblegum pink that flushes a deeper fuschia when he’s past his breaking point of arousal
Now that we’ve gotten his Lemurian cock out of the way, let’s talk about his second—but no less pleasurable—“member” so to speak
I imagine that he hides both under a well-hidden flap along his tail’s midline, right where his human crotch would be, so once that’s pulled back and his cock coaxed into full hardness, you can find his second tentacle-like cock underneath it
It’s thin, even more so than his human cock, is roughly 12 inches long (not very practical, but nothing about his devastatingly beautiful Lemurian form is) and a lot more flexible than you would think—which is good for its two uses
The first is prepping his beloved to take him, which is definitely no easy feat for anyone
He produces a lot of water-resistant slick there, which can help lubricate them easily in order to make the slide more comfortable for them, but it has the side effect of acting almost as an aphrodisiac, which (if in someone whose body can’t take that) may lead to it being too draining to keep up with him and their combined insanely high libidos at the moment
The second—which ties to the first—is that it makes it easier to curl inside his lover and reach their most pleasurable sweet spot, causing them to naturally gush around him and pull orgasm after orgasm before he could even attempt to slip inside their warmth
Again, Rafayel’s Lemurian form is dictated by his biology more often than not, so it’s no surprise that his cum is thicker (to avoid being washed away) and comes out in copious amounts, all for breeding purposes
The Lemurian race was dying out long before they were threatened by external factors and such, so procreation was a very important part of their mating rituals
You can toss that aside though, because it’s purely biological and will only be determined by whether or not his partner can and/or would want something like that; for Rafayel now it’s simply an instinct to be closer and rut deeper into them, so much so that they can’t tell where he ends and they begin
His cum looks quite pearlescent and actually pretty breathtaking, oddly enough; I truly believe it glimmers a little, especially if you look at it under the moonlight and catch the almost gem-like shimmers in its stickiness
Fair warning, it’s quite salty in terms of taste (though not hazardous in composition; he’s all about safety first you know!) and may be a little too much the first time his lover tries to swallow his release down
But that’s nothing a few kitten licks at his pulsating tip won’t acclimate them to, even if it does earn a strangled, breathy moan from him and him shooting his second load of the night on their tongue 🫶🏽
All in all, having sex or even just foreplay with Rafayel’s Lemurian form is overwhelming in the best ways possible—and definitely not for the faint-hearted!!
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Taglist: @vash-yuu @angry-and-yandere @nxx-jordiepord @honestlyjustablog @dawnbreakersgaze @tartartagliaboo @lucis-noctiana @riinari-sa @reika-desu @tikitsune @roll-of-royces @lemonsupernova @loveyoutodeep @belovedof @obiwanmcprobie @kalatipunan @eurekazz @bifedebruxa @thescribeswife @mysticangel123 @xenasolos @jvnluvr @dann-acalle @rin-sv14 @yololesgo @an-ever-angry-bi @semi-orangeapple @lavanderbliss @myturnwhen @winterlvod @carsonology @respitable @stellisangelicus-world @kvsqkiii @bitchynightmarepost @snoozeflare @spotted-salamander @cindywasneverhere @ladyparamount @sncrly0urs @huntersmoon1 @musiclover2119 @girl-who-lives-in-delusion @milktsukii @fromdeepspace-withlove @granddearduck @skriblobz @honeyshoney149 @imhere2dosomething @saerotonins @cantescapethevoid @teewritessmth @lovra974 @straykidz143 @reishuus @xinnn6 @vyntagei @bakahimesama @rafayels-procrastinator @scentisterror @sour-chaos (more in replies!)
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rin-may-1103 · 6 months ago
Text
The Wrong Robin Au (part five)
Previous | Master Post | Next
Danny sat back with a wince, watching as Bruce and his butler (The man introduced himself as Alfred) collected themselves. Jason's book was now sitting on a shelf, displayed for everyone to see. Bruce's desk was moved back into place, and the chairs were repositioned. There wasn't any evidence of what had just occurred.
"would you like me to get you a rag, young sir?" Alfred asked, turning to glance at Danny with a raised brow.
Danny lifted his hand and gently touched his nose, hissing when it stung and throbbed. Pulling his hand back, Danny found his fingers covered in blood.
Well, that was going to be hard to explain later...
"yeah, thanks." Danny finally agreed, moving his hand back to hopefully keep more of his blood from staining his hoodie. His ectoplasm was just begging him to heal it, but he held back, watching as Bruce turned to face him.
The man was no longer crying his little emo furry heart out or blinded with rage. Instead, he was standing still with a calculative gleam in his eyes. Danny just knew the man was going to do a background check as soon as Danny left. (Or when Danny wasn't paying attention, he was Batman after all. Who knows what he was going to do?)
It's a good thing there was nothing that connected him with Phantom. Besides the drop in grades and convenient absences, but that can be excused by the trauma of his accident and all the ghost fights. Otherwise, Danny would be screwed.
No one besides Jazz and Wes has been able to figure it out, and he'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. He's retired now, or well, was retired. He might be getting back into the crime-fighting part again, but he was going to do everything in his power to keep from getting pulled back into ghost-fighting and dealing with the occult every day.
He could handle following Batman around at night and punching a few goons here and there, but the ghost fights? The world ending catastrophes? The annoying cult summoning? He didn't think he could handle it again. And sure, if there was no other option he would go out and protect the world. (It would be very shitty of him not to if he could do something when no one else could. He lived here too, you know.)
But that's not his job anymore. No, that's what the Justice League is for. (was for... He had forgiven them for not being there for him when it mattered. They were here now. So it was fine. No, it wasn't) They're the ones who are protecting Earth now. They're the ones who have to drop everything and help save the world. Not him. Not anymore.
Maybe he could think of this as a really shitty vacation? Then once he's sure Batman is stable and that Tim won't do something stupid, Danny could go back to Amity and figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Maybe he could even go to college?
"Why are you here?" Bruce asked, his calculated eyes still boring into Danny's head. Danny, having gotten used to ghosts popping up and speaking to him at all hours of the day, didn't flinch as he glanced back up at Bruce.
"To keep you from killing yourself, seriously dude. Did you not hear when I told you earlier?" Danny spat, pointedly wiping the blood off his chin.
Bruce barely even moved, but Danny could tell he had winced. Sensing people's emotions was going to become one of the more useful powers he had, wasn't it?
...
How long was his nose going to bleed, again? Didn't broken noses stop bleeding after a few minutes?
His core flared in annoyance, finally making him remember a very important fact.
He was half dead. As in his body doesn't heal or change without the influence of his ectoplasm. This means he's going to keep bleeding until he either doesn't have any blood to bleed or he lets his ectoplasm heal it.
Great.
That's not going to make Bruce suspicious at all. Nope. Definitely not.
Focusing on his nose, Danny let his ectoplasm rush to the area and start healing it, but held it back before it could do more than stop the bleeding.
Alfred entered the room not even a second later, "here you go, young sir. Just hold it there for a minute while I prepare my med kit."
Danny grabbed the rag handed to him and pressed it to his nose, ignoring the sharp pain. He watched as Alfred placed his med kit on the side table and started digging through it. After a few minutes, Alfred leaned back and pulled on some gloves.
"let me have a look," he demanded, turning to kneel in front of Danny. Danny sighed, removed the rag, and leaned forward to let Alfred get a closer look. The man clicked his tongue, but gently grabbed his face and studied the injury.
Bruce shuffled awkwardly in the background, looking like a child waiting to get scolded. Good. He was a grown-ass man for crying out loud, he should get scolded for breaking Danny's nose.
"Alright, this will hurt," Alfred said, moving his hands to gently rest next to Danny's nose. Danny, having dealt with many broken noses before, looked away from the older man and stared Bruce dead in the eyes.
With sure but quick movements, Alfred straightened his nose with a loud crunch. Bruce's eyes narrowed as Danny bit his tongue, keeping any other sign of pain to himself.
"There," Alfred sighed, "it was a clean break, so you'll only have to keep some gause on it until you go to the doctor. Master Bruce?"
Bruce grunted, before finally looking over to his butler. "I'm fine, Alfred."
"good," Alfred nodded, "then I shall put on some tea. In the meantime, I recommend you two have a civil conversation."
Danny leaned back, taking the wet rag Alfred handed to him, and cleaned his face. Now that his nose looked normal, Danny allowed his ectoplasm to start healing it. He didn't plan on seeing Bruce again anytime soon, so any bruises or swelling he should have, won't matter.
Alfred finished placing his medical supplies away and held his hand out for the rags, once Danny gave them to him, the man swiftly left the room. bruce will probably want to test his blood later now that Danny thinks about it. Well, that's definitely something Batman would do, Danny thinks.
Oh well, it's not like his blood would reveal anything. It's literally just his human blood. Now if he was bleeding as Phantom? This would be a whole other problem.
"Who are you and how do you know who I am?" Bruce grunts, stepping closer to Danny in an attempt to be intimidating. And it would have been if Danny hadn't just watched the man breakdown ugly crying not even thirty minutes ago.
Rolling his eyes, Danny leaned back in his chair and huffed, "I told you this already. My name's Danny. I'm here to keep you from killing yourself. And it's pretty obvious who you are if you just think about it." Because it was obvious. Once Tim pointed it out to him, that is.
He wasn't about to just tell Batman that though, Tim didn't deserve to have the man breathing down his neck just for being smart enough to figure it out.
Before Bruce could respond, Danny's phone rang once, twice, then stopped. Glancing at the clock, Danny found it was only six. This meant, it was either Sam texting him to figure out where he was (which wasn't likely, since he usually disappeared in the mornings) or it was Tim.
Grabbing his phone, Danny unlocked it and was met with a message from Tim.
TIM: thanks for listening to me.
Before Danny could send a response, another text came through.
TIM: when did you want to meet up and discuss a plan? DANNY: tomorrow, after you get some sleep. TIM: I did! I took a nap! DANNY: not a long one. TIM: I'm not tired though! DANNY: Then pretend to sleep or something, I don't care. Could you just make sure you sleep before I text you tomorrow? please, kid? TIM: whatever. you're not even that much older than me, you know that right? Danny: sure kid.
"Who is that?" Bruce suddenly asks, making Danny glance up at him.
Shit, uh... "The kid I'm babysitting later."
You know what? That works. And it's technically true.
Bruce just hummed, allowing Danny to turn back to his phone.
TIM: I'm thirteen! DANNY: Yeah? Well, I'm seventeen, almost eighteen. Anyone under the age of fifteen is a literal baby. which makes you? that's right. a child. and what do children need? Sleep. They need sleep, Tim. TIM: I'm not a child! and if you've forgotten; I still have all the evidence proving that you're Robin. I'm petty enough to release it. DANNY: Go ahead. If it'll make you sleep at night.
Tim left him on read after not responding for a few minutes. Bruce had wandered over to his desk to work on something, probably Danny's background check.
Sighing, Danny sent a text to Sam letting her know he'd be busy for the rest of the morning and to let Tucker know. Once that was done, he shoved his phone into his pocket and stood up. Bruce glanced at him for a moment before going back to what he was doing, leaving Danny to look around the office.
Pictures were hanging on the wall, books covering the shelves, and random objects covering everything else. Basically, Bruce's office was filled with all sorts of things. Things that could give Danny an idea of who Bruce was as a person. Something he was going to need to know if he planned to stick around and help him. which he was. because he'd promised Tim that he would.
Reaching out, Danny picked up one of the photos and examined it. It was Bruce, Alfred, and some boy Danny didn't recognize, though they looked eerily like him. They could even pass as his clone if you squinted.
"Hey, Bruce," Danny started, "Who's this?"
Next
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beomiracles · 2 months ago
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can I request a soft dom husband!beomgyu and sub afab!reader with spanking/tying up kink for kinktober? please and thank you !
𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒
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DAY 3 : CHOI BEOMGYU + SPANKING — “You know why I’m punishing you, don’t you love?” — You meekly nod, whispering out a quiet yes, squeaking when his grip on your ass suddenly becomes sharp. “Tell me.”
Erotic spanking is the act of spanking another person for the sexual arousalor gratification of either or both parties. The intensity of the act can vary in both its duration and severity.
pairings husband!beomgyu x wife!reader warnings spanking (duh) used as punishment, vaginal fingering, a lil dirty-talk, bondage toward the end, softdom!gyu, sub!reader.
EVENT POST
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Your soft cries echo out into the pristine bedroom of your shared villa, the sounds bouncing off the walls for no one to hear but you and your husband. “There, there”, Beomgyu murmurs, his hand gently caressing the red skin of your ass as he soothes the sting lingering there. “You brought this onto yourself, didn’t you, love?” He says and you feel his thighs shift beneath you. 
Bent over his lap, your eyes screw shut as you anticipate his next swing, legs trembling from his previous hits. The slap cuts through the silent room and you wail, but just as the burn flares on your body does he put it out again with his soft palm against the area. “How many was that?” He wonders, waiting patiently for your answer as you let out a shaky exhale. 
“T-Thirteen..” 
Beomgyu hums, the wedding ring on his finger feels cold against your ass and he pushes your skirt further up your back. “That’s two more then”, he calmly states, only stopping when he catches you shaking your head. — “No more?” He asks, and you quickly nod, swallowing a small sob as your fingers dig into the fabric of his pants. 
Another harsh slap to your ass sends you jolting forward with a surprised yelp. “Should’ve thought about that before ruining my company dinner, hm?” His voice remains gentle, as if speaking to a frightened animal. “And what importance would rules hold if there was no punishment for breaking them?” He tuts, fingers splayed across your lower back as he sends shivers up your spine. 
“You know why I’m punishing you, don’t you love?” — You meekly nod, whispering out a quiet yes, squeaking when his grip on your ass suddenly becomes sharp. “Tell me.” He demands, in the same tender voice. You bite the inside of your cheek, recalling the events of the evening prior. He’d told you that it was an important dinner, he’d told you not to act out. You supposed you had missed him a little.. 
The small touch to his inner thigh was never meant to travel further than that. But you could clearly remember the way Beomgyu’s fingers had wrapped around your wrist, yanking your arm off as he turned to you with a narrowed gaze. It excited you, riling him up like that, but the punishment in itself made you want to swallow your actions right back up. — “I..distracted you from the important dinner..” You sheepishly mumble, face reddening as you buried it against his leg. 
Your husband hums in approval, his hand caressing the curve of your ass before his touch disappears completely. You wanted to whine out at the loss of him but the sound was quickly replaced by a short cry as the flat of his hand came down on that very same spot. The slap was harsher than the previous ones and you bite your lip as you prevent yourself from letting out a small moan, the pleasure pooling between your legs near unbearable. 
“It’s okay”, he coos, fingers brushing through your hair as he brings your face from his lap, tipping your head back to catch your expression. “Always take your punishments so well”, he smiles, letting his thumb swipe across your bottom lip and you eagerly open up from him to push it inside your warm mouth, and he sighs as your tongue swirls around the digit. 
Your thighs clench around his hand as it wedges itself between them, index and middle finger brushing against your clothed cunt. Your husband tsk’s, a small flicker of disapproval flashing across his features before settling back into a more neutral one. “You seem to be enjoying your punishment more than you ought to be”, he drawls as his fingers drag across your soaked panties and you whimper at the contact. 
“S-Sorry”, you gasp, resisting the urge to grind onto his hand, knowing that it would likely be pushing his buttons even further. — “It’s okay. I know you need your husband, pretty little cunt desperate to be stuffed full with my cock.” He pulls the damp garment aside, pushing a lonesome finger past your wet folds and into your throbbing core. “But it’s alright, I’m here to take care of you now”, he mumbles, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your shoulder as he curls his finger inside of you, making you mewl. 
“P-Please, need more..!” You whine, back arching against his touch as your thighs tremble. “Really? And do you think you deserve more?” Your husband muses, though he, despite his words, adds a second finger as he stretches your tight cunt. Feebly you nod, gasping as his thumb slides across your neglected clit. The pleasure makes your eyes flutter, your sharp nails digging into his leg with such force that Beomgyu lets out a small hiss, his free hand clasping around your wrist to pry you off. 
Quickly realizing your mistake, you rush to apologize, but it’s no use as you feel him withdraw the fingers inside of you and you whimper in objection. You don’t have time to even blink before he’s got you pinned against the silk sheets of the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress either side of you as Beomgyu’s face hovers above yours. — Propping himself up on one elbow, he loosens the tie around his neck, letting the fabric fall from his body as he gather’s your hands in his. 
You swallow a small cry as you realize what he’s about to do. The smooth velvety material of tie around your wrists is far from unfamiliar and you gasp as he tightens the knot before tugging on it, pulling your arms above your head. — “You’ve got to learn how to behave from now on.” He says, his voice uncharacteristically stern and you feverishly nod, bottom lip wobbling as you anticipate his next move. But Beomgyu merely leans down, pressing his hot mouth against your own in a gentle kiss. “You know how I hate to punish you, love.” — He didn’t.
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loveinhawkins · 2 years ago
Text
There’s perks to working a summer job where there’s seemingly no manager. Steve got an at most five minute interview with an overly smiley dude who said, “An independent workforce is very important to us,” and didn’t even check his references before telling Steve that he was hired.
So it’s down to him and Robin alone to open and close Scoops Ahoy. And the lack of any boss—not even a supervisor—is mostly great, means that no-one’s hovering over their shoulders droning on about ‘company policy’, means they can take their breaks as and when, and no-one’s tapping their foot with an eye on the clock.
But then there’s the times where it’s absolutely swamped with customers, and the statistical likelihood of having to serve an asshole skyrockets; and most assholes don’t tend to think of teenagers slinging ice-cream as being worthy of even the tiniest shred of respect.
“Are you wilfully this stupid, missy?” a douchebag snaps at Robin during the lunchtime rush, after she added chocolate sauce on his sundae instead of raspberry.
She remakes the order with a look that, if there was any justice in the world, would make him drop down dead on the spot. But instead, he just scoffs when she passes him the new sundae.
“Have a spectacular day,” Robin says acerbically, and if it was any other time, Steve would be ducking down behind the counter, pretending to check on stock levels so he can hide his laughter.
Except Robin’s also doing that thing where she blinks a lot, and Steve knows she’s fighting tears of frustration because he privately does something remarkably similar.
There’s a sinking feeling in his chest coupled with what’s becoming a steadily frequent flare of protectiveness. That one usually comes with the kids and The Upside Down—except Robin is a girl who’s round about his age, so he half-heartedly assumes it must be because he has a crush on her.
But he’s not even thinking about said crush at all when he gently bumps her towards the break room with his hip and says, “Take yours first, I’ve got this.”
For half a second, Robin’s eyes seem to shine in gratitude before she puts a hand over her heart and declares, dripping in sarcasm, “You’re a god among men, Harrington, I never believed what anyone said about you.”
“You’re wel—hey, what did they say about me?”
The door to the break room shuts, but not before he hears Robin let out a genuine snort of laughter. He smiles and pivots back to the register.
The line’s calmed down; Steve recognises a substitute teacher waiting to be served: Mrs Greeves, who’s been at Hawkins High since the sixties, at least. There’s no other adult in the shop, so it’s presumably her little granddaughter who’s running about the place, without so much as a glancing eye on her.
But Steve doesn’t have to worry about a potential lost child scenario, because a guy suddenly slips out of the booth he’d been sitting in, bending down to the kid’s eye level and subtly ensuring that she doesn’t hightail it out of there.
It takes a few seconds for Steve to recognise him; he’s still getting used to the whole phenomenon of seeing people without the high school setting behind them. Like, Robin used to be just a name from a class he can’t even recall, and now he knows her for her dry wit and love of cryptic crosswords.
And this Eddie Munson is sort of a different beast from the guy Steve saw stomping around the cafeteria tables.
He’s dressed pretty much the same, (Hellfire shirt sans the leather jacket must be the ‘summer look’, Steve reckons), but he’s quieter as he chats with the little girl, letting her try on one of his skull rings to distract from her obvious boredom. His grin is softer, too.
Mrs Greeves clears her throat, and Steve promptly puts on his vacant ‘delightful customer service’ smile.
“Afternoon, Mrs Greeves, what can I do you for?”
She orders a simple strawberry cone for the kid, Abigail, and two scoops of lemon and vanilla in a cup for herself—appropriate, Steve thinks, because her face looks like she’s sucking on a lemon half the time.
As he prepares the ice-cream, he’s quickly remembering why she’s on the list of substitute teachers that students dread, even if he’s only had the ‘pleasure’ of being in a class supervised by her once. He has vague memories of how she’d talk with other teachers in a scandalised stage whisper about students from ‘broken homes’—he’s pretty sure she’s still an austere teacher at the Sunday School, too.
“Abigail,” she says sharply, when Steve finishes the cone, and she finally seems to realise her granddaughter isn’t by her side, “what have I told you about—”
“Oh, it’s okay,” Eddie says hurriedly. Abigail hands him the ring back, very carefully dropping it into his palm, and he gives her a gentle smile. “I don’t mind—”
“—not talking to strangers?” Mrs Greeves finishes, as if Eddie hadn’t spoken.
“But,” Eddie says with tiny frown, “you know me, ma’am, I’m—”
“Let me be plain then, Mr Munson.” She finally turns to favour Eddie with a scathing look. “I meant that I don’t want my granddaughter around a corrupting influence.”
There’s an awful silence while Abigail collects the cone.
“Oh,” Eddie says, still crouched down by the booth. He sounds very small.
And Steve’s view of Mrs Greeves quickly turns from a general dislike to an icy hatred.
“And here’s yours,” he says, sliding the cup over.
She looks down. Her mouth goes all pinched in displeasure.
“What’s the meaning of this?”
“It’s your ice-cream,” Steve says, playing up a confused blink. “Is—is this not what you ordered? I’m terribly sorry for the—”
“Don’t be obtuse, Mr Harrington. These scoops are tiny; they barely fill the cup!”
Yup, Steve thinks with a savage satisfaction. They’re the size of a melon ball, and even that’s being generous.
“Mrs Greeves, I’m afraid it’s store policy. Nothing to do with—”
“What kind of policy could possibly justify—”
“Rudeness,” Steve says smoothly.
Eddie’s head jerks up at that, his mouth slightly agape.
“Mr Harrington,” Mrs Greeves says, her face turning puce, “I would like to see your manager.”
“The manager,” Steve says flatly. “Okay, sure. I’ll go get him.”
What he does next, compared to everything else that’s happened in his life thus far, isn’t all that stupid.
Well. Maybe a little.
It’s worth it though, to see the way Eddie Munson’s eyes widen at the sight.
Making sure to have zero expression throughout, Steve mimes walking downstairs, throws off his hat while crouched behind the counter, then re-emerges with a quick ruffle of his hair.
“How can I help you?” he asks, like they’ve only just met.
The cup of minuscule ice-cream is soon up-ended as Mrs Greeves storms out, barking over her shoulder, “Abigail, come here!”
Eddie stands to let the kid out of the way, who seems blissfully ignorant with her cone. Steve’s sure he hears him mutter under his breath, “Jesus, she’s not a dog.”
“I’ll be reporting you, Steve Harrington, make no mistake!”
Yeah, good fucking luck. I sure as hell don’t know who really runs this place.
“Uh-huh,” Steve says. “Looking forward to it. Harrington with two ‘r’s one ‘n’, ma’am.”
“Shit, Harrington,” Eddie drawls. He’s leaning next to the booth, hip cocked, and if it weren’t for the fact that he’d seen it himself, Steve might’ve been convinced that the Eddie from a moment ago was a different person. “That was not worth getting fired over.”
“I’m not getting fired,” Steve says—although honestly, if that had been a real threat, he thinks his actions would probably have been the same. Huh. “I meant it, dude, there’s no manager here.”
Eddie nods slightly, looks up at the Scoops Ahoy sign and grins. “So you and Buckley are the skeleton crew on this ship.”
“Uh, I guess?”
Come on, man, Steve thinks, as Eddie keeps up the wide grin like it’s a shield. This isn’t the high school cafeteria; I’m not about to hit your lunch tray or whatever.
Out loud, he calls into the back, “Hey, Robin, the chocolate’s low. I’m just gonna put in a new batch if you want some of the old stuff.”
The sliding doors open.
Robin sighs as if she’s just had a very relaxing facial, but she’s actually holding a folded newspaper with the cryptic crossword all finished.
“I am so chilled out,” she says, with a delivery that could rival Eddie Munson’s trademark dramatics.
“You’re so weird,” Steve says mildly while making up a cup with the leftover chocolate ice-cream.
“You’ve just got no taste, Harrington.” She waggles the crossword at him. “You should give ‘em a try.”
Steve wrinkles his nose. “I’m no good at that code-breaking stuff.” He passes her the cup, goes to start assembling his own and pauses. “Hey, Munson, you want some?”
“Oh, uh, I’m good,” Eddie says, sounding suddenly wrong-footed. “Sorry, I’m just, uh, killing time before my movie starts. The other stores said if I wasn’t buying anything I should get out, so…”
“So you’ve come to our oceanic sanctum,” Robin deadpans.
Steve rolls his eyes. “You know, just ‘cause you do crosswords doesn’t mean you have to turn into a dictionary. Ow.” He doesn’t quite duck in time to avoid the newspaper smacking him in the face. He turns to address Eddie again, who appears to be fighting back laughter. “What’re you gonna see, Munson?”
Eddie’s eyes glance away for a second. “Something very scary and befitting of my stature, Harrington.”
Robin, who’s made a habit of memorising the mall’s movie schedules, checks her watch and narrows her eyes. “Return to Oz?”
Eddie’s cheeks start to glow. “Fuck off, Buckley, I’ve never liked you.”
“You’re such a liar, I’ve heard your applause at band practice—”
“Okay, but,” Steve cuts in, jumping up onto the counter with one hand. “I thought the whole point was Oz was a dream. How can she return to—?”
“Christ, I don’t know, Harrington,” Eddie says. “I didn’t pick it for critical analysis; the poster had a dude with a pumpkin head on it, and I thought it looked cool.”
“Oh, I saw that,” Robin says. “Made me think of when all those pumpkins went bad. Like, imagine if they had faces.”
Unthinkingly, Steve says around his ice-cream spoon, “No way, I’m not dealing with that, too.”
“Excusez-moi?” Robin says.
“Hmm?” Steve says innocently.
“Hey, you missed quite a show earlier on, Buckley,” Eddie says. “Reckon Harrington deserves a tally in the ‘you rule’ column.”
Steve glares at Robin. “I told you to keep that outta view of the customers.”
“Ah, but I’m not buying anything,” Eddie points out, “ergo, not a customer.”
“Ergo,” Steve mimics.
“That board is strictly for romantic successes,” Robin says.
Eddie snorts. “Aw, that’s hardly fair. I think it should have more… rounded criteria.”
Robin’s eyes narrow again. “Eddie Munson, you’ve never complimented a jock in your life, don’t start now.”
“Hey,” Steve says, overselling a ‘wounded’ expression. “I’m more than that, y’know. I contain multitudes.”
“Sure,” Eddie says, smiling. “Folks, we’ve got Hawkins’s own Whitman right here.”
Steve flips him off and, on a whim, decides to channel his inner Dustin.
“Maybe I just see the world more clearly than you two ‘cause I’m free of societal constraints.”
“You’re working in a mall,” Robin says.
“High school societal contraints. I am unshackled and ergo, free.”
“Damn,” Eddie says, patting down his pockets for an imaginary pen, “I should use that.”
“Stop inflating Harrington’s ego and go catch your totally scary movie,” Robin says.
Eddie checks his own watch. “Oh, shit. Um.” And Steve thinks that it almost looks like he’s reluctant to leave. “Time flies, I guess. Better go ashore.” He catches Steve’s eye, gives a tiny little salute as he leaves. “May your summer continue to be mundane and manager-less.”
“You’re a poet, Munson,” Steve says, even though Eddie’s already out the door.
“So what was the show I missed?” Robin says. “I couldn’t hear anything back there.”
“Nothing that exciting.”
Steve tells her, and even though a smile tugs at her mouth as he re-enacts his mime, for some reason her eyes are kinda sad for most of it.
“Good job, Popeye,” she says thoughtfully—and though it directly contradicts her own words, she marks up a singular ‘you rule’ tally for the rest of her shift before wiping it off.
Eddie doesn’t re-appear after the movie—not that Steve’s keeping track of time, or anything—but at least they don’t have anymore nightmares for customers. As Steve mops, he thinks about how Dustin’s return from Camp Something Something is approaching—and the fact that he’s circled the date with a goofy smiley face is between him and his bedroom calendar.
He smiles to himself while clocking out of the now ghostly mall, recalling Eddie’s parting words.
The thought of a mundane, manager-less summer stretching before him sounds pretty damn good.
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