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berry-potchy · 1 year ago

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Indulge Me

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader Rating: Explicit (18+ only please) Word Count: 7,072 Summary: You're a Spiderwoman who has ended up pinned underneath Miguel O'Hara in his lab one too many times. You're not sure what you are to him or what to call your relationship. And that would've been fine until your neediness kicked in and made you catch feelings. Surely, Miguel taking you to his room for the first time means something right? In which your lack of understanding of Spanish and denial of the hints Miguel drops are keeping you from realizing you already have what you want. Tags/warnings: pwp, p in v sex, rough sex, praise + light degradation, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, face sitting/riding, breeding kink, soft dom!Miguel, needy reader, recording, mirror sex adjacent, implied chubby reader, undefined relationship but soft feelings sprinkled in there as a treat, no use of y/n so lots of Spanish nicknames to make up for it, reader does not understand Spanish, brief sexy use of spider webs A/N: this is quite literally just a self-indulgent fic with most of my favorite Miguel x reader flavors. Not beta read but I hope you still enjoy it! (Translations are the end!)

Also on AO3

Edit: turns out some parts got messed up while I was posting here on Tumblr D: it's fine on AO3 though which is weird because I copied from this post instead of my doc because this has the correct spacing. Everything should be fixed now.

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Miguel has you standing in front of him between his parted legs as he sits on the edge of his bed. Even in this position, you were barely any much taller than him, only needing to tilt your head a bit to meet his red eyes. He looks at you from your face, down to the swell of your breast where his eyes are joined by a taloned finger on its journey downwards. You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the sharp talon cuts through your spandex suit, fully exposing your soft chest to the cold air of his quarters. He would argue that the stretchy translucent mesh with a spiderweb lace design on your chest area didn’t do shit to cover the fullness of your tits anyway so he didn't understand why you even bothered with it. It was for style obviously but riling up Miguel O’Hara was a great bonus. You let out a shaky breath as he continued further down until he stopped right below your navel.

“Que linda,” he says in that low sexy voice of his, very different from the usual grumpy tone he uses to chastise you. He snakes his arms around your hips, bringing you closer to him and his hands find your plush bottom, giving them a rough squeeze. You are getting so worked up by how much attention you are getting from your usually sulky boss. Your heaving chest is right in front of Miguel’s face and his lustful gaze almost feels like it is burning you. The heat spreads from your chest downwards until it pools in the pit of your stomach and between your legs.

“You ruined my suit,” you pout, not really that upset about it. You think it was hot honestly but you just want to tease him “Am I supposed to go on missions with my whole chest out now? Walk around the HQ flashing everyone?”

“Of course not,” he says, rolling his eyes. He continues to take in your figure, hands gently kneading soft flesh on your sides “I’m making you a new suit. Should be done very soon. It'll be the same design but it will offer far more protection than this flimsy thing.”

“Making me a suit just like yours? What so you can control it hm? Deactivate it whenever you want to fuck me?” You laugh, wiping the imaginary tear in your eye until you realize Miguel is silent and looks like he’s been caught red-handed. You lightly slap him on his arm, flustered. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”

Instead of answering you, he brings his head forward to close his lips on a clothed nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive erect bud. Your mouth opens as you let out a soft gasp at the sensation and you can feel the corner of Miguel’s lips twitch into a slight smirk. He teases your nipple alternating between flicking it with the tip of his tongue and giving it an audible suck. He pulls away for a split second only to give the same attention to your other nipple. You weave your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your tits. Your other hand is holding onto his shoulder for support as you urge him to keep going with your whimpers. His hands haven’t stopped exploring your body. His wide hands warm against your hips, ass, thighs, everywhere he can touch, squeezing your softness, committing every curve to memory.

“Migueeeel,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together to try to relieve the ache between your legs. You appreciate the attention to your nipples but your cunt was throbbing with need. You are so close to ripping the rest of your suit and panties off because the way the fabric is sticking to your wet pussy is becoming too uncomfortable.

“Miguel what, muñeca?” He pulls away, licking his lips. Those red eyes are now looking straight into yours and you feel yourself shiver. You try to look away but Miguel grabs your chin to keep you facing him. “Eyes on me. What do you want? Use your words.”

“Please,” your cheeks burn in embarrassment but Miguel just raised an eyebrow at you, unamused. “Stop teasing please.”

“Ah I see okay,” he says, taking his hands off you before standing up and walking to his closet.

“W-wait what are you doing?” you almost trip on your feet, knees feeling weak, as you chase after him. You grab his arm, tugging at it to get his attention as you pathetically look up at him.

“You said stop teasing so I’m getting you a shirt so you can go back to your world and get some rest,” he says as he looks through the neatly folded shirts in his closet. He’s stalling, pretending he was trying to choose one but he’s messing with you. There is no way he would let you go home tonight without getting at least a couple of orgasms wrung out of you. You aren’t leaving until he made sure you were stuffed full and dripping with his cum. You aren’t leaving tonight. Period. He knew you were too far gone with lust to figure that out yourself.

“Miggy, that’s not what I meant please,” you sob, pressing your body against him. Just the thought of being left unsatisfied was painful. “Please, Miggy, I need your mouth. And your cock please”

He finally looks at you and pulls you closer to him by your waist. You run your hands along his still clothed chest, feeling his heart beating with yours. You look up at him with glassy eyes, begging him to finish what he started. He coos at how desperate you were for release.

“You want my mouth and my cock?” he hums, still teasing. He easily lifts you up with one arm supporting your ass to carry you back to his bed. He’s carried you multiple times before but it never ceases to amaze you how he does it so effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, hips bucking trying to get some friction against your still unfortunately clothed cunt. “Where do you want them, muñeca? You have to be more specific. Which one do you want first?”

“On my pussy, please. I need your mouth on my pussy. Miggy, I wanna cum on your face” you sobbed against his neck “And then- and then I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up with your cock. Only you can fill me up so good, Miggy. I need it.”

“Good girl,” he whispers right next to your ear, making you shudder “Now, was that so hard to do? Was it hard to tell me what you wanted?”

“Yes!” you bite his shoulder and you feel satisfaction when you hear him break character and snort. He shakes his head, smiling fondly while he sets you down on the bed.

"Qué voy a hacer contigo?" he brings his lips to your temple to whisper more softly "Qué haría sin ti?"

Your heart skips a beat at the gentleness of his tone. You’re not sure what he said but the genuine affection is evident. Intimate moments like this with Miguel are slowly becoming more and more frequent and you decide that you don’t mind it. You even crave it now. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you lean further toward him.

He pulls away but the fond look on his face doesn’t waver. He slaps your thigh, making the soft fat jiggle just how he likes it, as he moves to get settled in his bed.

“Put those lovely hips and thighs to use and ride my face, conejita.” He lies down, anticipating, patting his chest to encourage you to sit down.

You didn't need to be told twice. You rip off the rest of your suit, your heated skin meeting the cold air of his room making your nipples pebble painfully. You quickly take off your panties and toss them aside with your ruined suit. You squeal as you scramble to get on top of him. You position yourself on top of his waiting mouth, straddling his face but just hovering over his face, hands on the headboard to keep yourself steady. The smell of your arousal is almost too much for Miguel to bear at this proximity. The urge to lock you in his room for the next few days and not let you out until you’re thoroughly fucked and bred is getting hard to ignore. His fangs extend as his animalistic urges surface, yearning to bite you and mark you as his.

“Are you trying to tease me now? How can you ride my face if you don’t sit?” Miguel’s tone is deeper than it was just a second ago. There’s a certain roughness to it, a growl in his voice that makes your hole clench around nothing. He grips your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh, waiting for you to sit down or he’ll make you. He’s trying to be patient, turning his head a little to mouth at the fat of your inner thigh. He licks a stray trail of your slick up your thigh, stopping just a breath away from where you both want his mouth to be. You feel him sigh, savoring your taste like he just drank the finest nectar, a promise of what’s to come.

“But Miguel–” you yelp when he suddenly pulls you down by your thighs and you immediately feel his tongue lapping at your aching cunt, his nose bumping deliciously against your swollen clit. He wasn’t going to hear your excuses. The only things he wants to hear coming out of your pretty lips are your moans and whines for more. The way Miguel is sucking and devouring your wetness so eagerly makes your head spin and your grip on the headboard tighten to steady yourself for a moment. He teases your hole, licking around the small opening before plunging in as far as he can, feeling you clench around his tongue. He grows impatient at your lack of movement and starts rocking you back and forth on his face by himself. He flattens his tongue for you to grind your pretty folds onto.

“Miggy, feels so good,” you whine, bending over to look at him from under you. He’s so pretty like this, forehead scrunched up from how focused he is eating you out, and when you get a peak of his nose and his cheeks, they’re shiny from being soaked by a combination of your wetness and his own spit. You take one of your shaking hands off the headboard to brush the hair away from Miguel’s forehead only for him to guide your hand into a fist, grabbing his hair, urging you to use it as leverage to ride his face harder. And who are you to say no to that?

You move your hips to try to match the pace he set for you, your thighs burn but you pay it no mind. Not when you feel that familiar delicious knot forming in your core. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes screwed shut as you immerse in the pleasure, grinding your cunt harder on Miguel’s tongue, nose, chin, anywhere you can get some friction, getting desperate to reach your orgasm.

“‘M gonna cum, Miggy. Gonn’ cum on your face” you whimper. You take your hand off the headboard and bring it to your tits, squeezing them, pinching at rubbing circles on your pebbled nipples. Miguel doesn’t stop lapping hungrily at your pussy, shaking his head from side to side as much as your grip on his hair allows. He groans as he watches in awe as you chase your own pleasure.

So close.

You’re so close you swear you can almost taste it.

Miguel could tell from how your hips stuttered and your pace growing frantic, rougher. He gives your clit another suck and that finally pushes you over the edge.

You feel the sweet release consume you like wildfire, your body tensing, back arching, toes curling. You can’t even hear yourself scream Miguel’s name, curling into yourself as he continues to suck on your oversensitive, pulsating clit. His hands held your shaking thighs steady, not letting you close them. It’s all too much.

“Miggyyy,” you sob pathetically, pawing at his head and his grip on you. You finally manage to pry an eye open only to see him watching you intently “Too much. I can’t-”

He doesn’t stop. He continues to lick stripes at your puffy folds and flick the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue albeit slower this time. He takes one of his hands away from your thigh and plunges two of his thick fingers knuckle deep inside your needy hole. He manages to find your sweet cushiony spot and puts enough pressure on it to make you see stars. That burning hot coil is back just mere seconds after your climax and if you could think at that moment, you’d think it’s unfair how he seems to know your body too well, knows just where to touch to make you unravel.

He adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you out for his cock, curling them inside you, and hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You know that it’s not enough, that it’s nothing compared to what’s coming for you. No matter how much prep you do it's going to be a tight fit and you can’t wait to be stretched to your limits once more. You stop fighting him, needing to chase after your orgasm, grinding your clit again on his tongue as he pumps his fingers in and out of your slutty hole.

Soon enough, you feel your second orgasm wash over you. You spill over his face, making a mess on his pillows and bedsheets. Your limbs go numb and this time you can’t even form words, just sobbing, babbling nonsense as your body shakes on top of Miguel. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn't for Miguel supporting your back with his free hand. You frantically tap his hand as you hiccup a pathetic “no more.”

Miguel relents and lets you catch your breath for a second. He kisses your puffy cunt one more time before moving you to lie on your back on the bed. He lifts your head to turn over the soiled pillow and fluff it up before getting you settled comfortably. You watch as he catches the dripping wetness from his chin with his equally soaked fingers and sticks them into his mouth, eyes rolling back and moaning at your sweet taste. You feel your cunt throb at the lewd action and you can’t help but let out a needy whimper from the back of your throat. It’s so unfair how much he affects you.

“Ay, pobrecita,” he coos at your flushed face with fat tears running down your cheeks as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and settles between your parted legs. “too much for mi conejita to handle? I know you can take more. Your pussy is so slutty, isn’t she? So needy. I doubt two orgasms is enough.”

He cups your face with one hand, thumb wiping away a tear on your cheek, his other hand brushing your hair away from your face, knowing how much you hate the feeling of it sticking to your skin. Your lower lip is jutting out in an adorable pout that he can’t help but kiss, catching your lip between his teeth. You scrunch up your nose and push his face away as you try to steady your breath.

You can see his naked chest rise and fall faster than usual, his mouth open to catch his own breath. You didn’t even notice when he disabled his suit but your eyes are thankful as you drink in the sight of his warm brown skin, stretching across the expanse of his unfairly defined body. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, taking extra care to give him the most perfect proportions. How lucky are you to see this masterpiece up close? It would be a sin to not enjoy the view.

Your eyes trail down from his strong broad shoulders to his massive tits, and even further down to see his cock standing up proudly against his navel, the head dripping beads of precum and smearing it against his abs. Pride blooms in your chest as you realize that he’s just as affected as you are.

Your throat suddenly feels so empty. You lick your lips as you tear your eyes off his cock to look up at his face only to find his hungry gaze meeting yours. His eyes glint with danger as he takes in the sight of you in your post-orgasm haze, seemingly plotting his next move.

You didn’t have to wait long because, of course, he can’t keep his hands away from you.

He moves closer, making you spread your legs further. His hands grab at the back of your thighs to push them towards your torso, your knees almost touching your chest. Your dripping cunt twitches as it’s exposed to the cold air. Your hole clenching on nothing, begging to be filled.

“Que rico. Podría acostumbrarme a esto,” he says, his voice deep and rough with lust as his hands rub up and down your thighs, squeezing, feeling you. He drinks up the sight of you, so bare and exposed, all for him to take. “I could watch you like this all day. Maybe take a video of you right now so I can watch your pretty cunt pulsing, crying for me, anytime I want. Or…”

He takes his cock in one hand, running his thumb on the swollen tip to spread the beads of precum around, pumping his shaft with a few languid strokes. You yelp when he slaps his thick, heavy cock against your puffy folds.

“I could tie you up like this and keep you here for my own pleasure.” He starts moving his hips at a torturously slow pace, sliding his length along your wet folds, getting it lubricated by your own slick. He brings his hands back to your thighs and pushes them even further until you’re practically folded in half. “Keep you here to breed. Fill you up with so much cum and you’ll stay like this so it will surely take, yeah?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Miggy” you hiss as the tip of his cock keeps bumping into your throbbing clit “What’s stopping you from doing so huh? You have your web and your little surveillance bots. Put them to good use.”

“Of course, you’d love that, my pretty little slut,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he lines up the tip of his cock with your hole. Your eyelids flutter as you hold your breath in anticipation, waiting for that delicious stretch of being filled by his massive cock.

“Eyes on me, cariño,” he commands and you obey, looking up at him from under your lashes “That’s it, good girl.”

He starts to slowly press his cock into your greedy hole. Inch by inch, he sinks in, knocking the air out of your lungs. Midway, maybe, you can’t tell, there’s just so much of him, you start to feel a little faint, your shoulders tense and your mouth stuck hanging open. You feel so full of him, almost like he’s going to split you apart.

“Breathe for me,” he coos as he slowly presses more of him into you, filling you up more than what should be possible. He drapes your legs over his shoulders, his chest pressing against the back of your thighs as he uses his now free hands to cradle your face. You suck in a breath as he instructed and try to even out your breathing. “There you go. Keep breathing. Relax for me. Thaaat’s it. My sweet girl. So good for me.”

You preen at his words, warmth flooding your chest and going straight down to your pussy. His hands stay on your cheeks, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he pushes the last few inches in. You put your hands on top of his as you lean into his touch. He starts to grind his hips slowly, gently, getting you used to his size. The coarse dark curls at the base of his cock tickle your sensitive clit and the head of his cock softly probing at your cervix makes you roll your eyes back and whimper from the fullness.

“Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces, cariño,” he leans in to capture your lips into a deep kiss. Soft and gentle until both of you wanted more. One of his hands finds the back of your neck to tilt your head as he pleases as he tries to devour you. His tongue licks into your mouth and his fangs graze your lips with every movement. You hum against his lips as you feel him start to pull his hips back, letting his dick slide halfway out before snapping his hips forward to plunge himself back inside, his balls lewdly smacking against your ass. And he keeps doing it over, and over again making you moan oh so wantonly.

“Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor,” he whispers against your lips. The breathlessness and the hint of desperation for release in his voice make you shiver. His pace picks up, thrusts growing rougher with it. The wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you and skin slapping against skin echo around his room. The only other sounds you can hear are your combined sounds of pleasure, calling out each other’s names.

You pull on the hand that Miguel has on your cheek to lace your fingers together, his large hand easily dwarfing yours, his talons folded back to not hurt you. Your other hand slips between your bodies, travelling downwards to feel where you two are connected. There’s a deep rumble coming from Miguel’s chest and he presses your sweaty foreheads together, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. Your tight heat is milking his cock so perfectly and at this rate, he’s not going to last long.

“Miggy,” you whine, keeping your eyes on his. His irises seem a little more brown as he looks at you so tenderly, making you feel like you are going to melt into a puddle of goo. He brings your joined hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles and you think you really just might turn into goo.

His thrusts get messier and more frantic You feel the familiar coil building up in your stomach. You lift your hand from between your legs to press firmly against the area below your navel and the sensation is electrifying. You can feel his cock pistoning in and out of you from where you are touching. You can feel him rearranging your insides, molding your pussy to accommodate him and only him, ruining you for anyone else.

“Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía.” he moans into your ear, almost whiney and you know he’s near the edge. He starts peppering kisses on your neck, licking, sucking, grazing the sensitive skin with his fangs but not sinking them in yet. He takes the hand you aren’t holding to rest on your hand on your lower stomach. His thumb reaches further down to stroke your clit earning him a shaky whine from you.

“Cum for me again, hermosa,” he lifts his head to look at your flushed face. You’re sure you look like a mess but to him, you’re more beautiful than the brightest twinkling stars on a clear night sky. “Let me see your pretty face when you cum.”

And with that, you’re gone, pushed over the edge, screaming his name, squirting clear liquid up to his chest. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hold on his hand tightens, and your legs on his shoulders shake and flail from another intense orgasm. There’s ringing in your ears but you faintly hear him cooing at you, whispering sweet words you can’t quite understand.

Miguel is still fucking into you with messy, frantic thrusts and ragged breaths but it doesn’t take long for him to follow, not when your velvety walls are pulsing, contracting on his dick. He puts a large hand on the space beside your head for support, his claws tearing through the pillowcase, as he drives his hips into yours a few more times before spilling inside you with a deep growl. He paints your insides with his cum as he rides his high with a few more shallow thrusts. You clench around him trying to squeeze as much cum out of him with your tight hole and he whimpers your name.

Both of you pant in unison, trying to catch your breath after that life-altering orgasm together. You turn your head to the side to kiss the inside of Miguel's wrist next to your head. Miguel doesn’t want to move. Everything is too perfect at that moment. You’re perfect.

But he has more plans for you tonight.

He takes your legs off his shoulders to wrap around his waist as he adjusts the both of you so he can lay down comfortably on top of you, putting most of his weight on his elbows on the bed. His dick still plugged in your hole, keeping his seed inside and refusing to part with your tight heat.

“Miggy,” you softly call him, looking at his relaxed face resting on your shoulder, eyes closed.

“Hm?”

“... pull out.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Fine, but only because I want to,” he grumbles, clearly not wanting to pull out. He gets on his knees again so he can at least watch your sloppy hole fluttering as he slowly pulls out. A thick milky ring of your combined fluid sits at the base of his cock. His eyes darken as he sees your cunt trying to clench at air and his cum starts to drip out of you. He can’t have that. He collects the trail of cum with his fingers so he can stuff them back inside of you.

“Miggy, come back here,” you pull at his hand and when he doesn’t budge, you add “You can just cum inside me more later. I need cuddles.”

That gets him to leave your fucked out hole alone. For now. Miguel kisses your stomach up to the valley between your breasts to your neck and lingers on your lips. He goes back to his earlier position on top of you. You drape your arms around his neck as you hum in contentment against the kiss. He smiles and moves to mouth at your sensitive neck, planting soft kisses, licking and sucking as he moans and pants in your ear.

“Miggy, I’m sleepy now,” you turn to look at him. You know what he’s doing. You know that he’s trying to turn you on again. And it’s working.

“You can do one more, mami. One more for me,” he says. He’s almost pouting, almost begging “You said I can cum in you again.”

“I didn’t mean right away. I just came three times already” you whined wrapping your arms around his broad chest. you want to feel him close.

“Mmm, you can cum four times. Maybe more because you’re such a needy little whore,” he murmurs into your neck, not stopping his ministrations. “My cum slut who loves being bred. We’re not going to end the night without your tummy full of cum I promise you that, cariño.”

You roll your eyes at him but you don't push him away and instead start playing with the short curly hairs at the back of his neck, ignoring the way your pussy shivered at his perverted words. You find comfort in his warmth and weight on top of you. You inhale his familiar deep masculine scent and it almost lulls you to sleep until you feel something wet and hard poking at your thigh.

“How are you hard again?” you say in disbelief as you look down and sure enough, Miguel’s dick is erect and ready to go for another round.

“It’s been a while since we had sex and my hand could only do so much to make up for your absence, cariño,” he huffs as gets up on his knees to turn you over and slap your ass. The sound of his palm meeting the sticky wet skin of your ass is undeniably lewd. “And what about needing to get you pregnant does not make sense to you? Get on your hands and knees for me. That baby is not gonna make itself.”

You plant your knees on the mattress and present your ass to him but you don't bother to lift your upper body from the bed. You keep your face down against the softness of his pillows. You didn't want him to see the giddy smile on your face from hearing that he hasn't slept with anyone else. His cum starts dripping out of your hole, coating your clit with creamy white and Miguel almost cums again on the spot.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” His large hands grab at your ass, kneading them. His thumbs spread your puffy lips apart so he can watch your cunt try to keep his cum inside. You groan as you force your arms to lift you up. “There’s my good girl.”

He smacks your ass which earned him a yelp from you. His lips curl up as he watches the flesh of your ass jiggle from the impact.

“Get on with it,” you whine, wiggling your ass to entice him to move faster. For someone who wanted to stop at the third round, you sure are impatient to be filled again.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he chuckles as he guides his cock back inside your wet heat. “There you go, mami. Back where it belongs.”

You moan loudly as you feel him grinding his hips, driving his dick as deep as he can reach inside you. Your eyes flutter close, as you savor the stretch of your hole around his fat cock once more. You couldn’t agree more with his words.

You hear Miguel from behind you input a command on a device. It beeps obnoxiously like it’s mocking you. It’s the last thing you want to hear while he is balls deep inside you, his girthy cock stretching you deliciously and filling you up so good. You think to yourself what was so important that Miguel can't put his gizmo down and enjoy the feeling of your warm, tight pussy on his dick? Right after insisting you can go for one more round?

You are about to snap at him for being ungrateful until a hologram appears in front of you. It shows a live video feed of his very own bed and a clear view of your fully naked self on your hands and knees getting ur insides rearranged by your boss. Your hair is a mess and your makeup is all smudged from how he made you cry from all the begging and overstimulation earlier. And he looks so big compared to you, having to bend low to align his hips with yours. You didn't even notice the recording devices planted around the room until now from how your brain was so fogged by lust. There seem to be at least three around the room from different angles. Well, it turns out he wasn’t just bluffing when he said he could record you earlier.

You wonder if he always had those set up. You haven’t really been to his room before. The few “encounters” you had with Miguel happened in his laboratory on his silly little platform, both of you too consumed by lust to think about moving to a more private area. It’s rather unlikely that they’re for actual safety reasons when they all just record the same area. You entertain the idea that him taking you to his room tonight is not just a spur-of-the-moment thing, that he might have all of this set up for tonight for when he has you writhing in pleasure on his bed. How thoughtful, you think. It makes you clench around his dick.

"You really are a pervert," you quip to annoy him. Clearly, the urge to mess with him hasn’t been thoroughly fucked out of you yet. You didn't even get to laugh at your own childish remark when Miguel abruptly starts thrusting his hips without warning, harder this time, dragging out a surprised whimper from you. His tip is bullying your cervix, testing the line between pleasure and pain but you love it. Your eyes meet Miguel's intense red glare on the screen.

"You're still talking," he tuts, his head shaking like he's some kind of pet owner trying to reprimand a disobedient pet "Let me fix that, cariño.”

He brings his large calloused hands back on you – where they belong, you think to yourself, echoing Miguel’s words. His left hand is firm on the flesh of your waist, you are sure they are going to bruise once he’s done with you. His other hand fondles your breasts, the sharp talons on his fingertips lightly grazing your soft skin. You know that when you look at yourself in the mirror tomorrow morning you’d look like you barely got away from being mauled by a feral beast, evidence of how Miguel O'Hara had his way with you and how you enjoyed every single second of it.

You cry out his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s so deep inside you that you can almost feel him in your chest, his thrusts fucking the air out of your lungs.

“Miggy, Mi…. Mig– ah, ah Mi– haaaa –guel ahhh”

Your eyes roll back at the continuous assault on your sweet spot and your cervix with every deep thrust. High-pitched whines come out of your throat as your arms give out from under you, making you fall face-first on the soft mattress. It all feels so good but overwhelming. You think you’re going to pass out.

“Que rico, mami,” he pulls your hair so you can face the screens. “Look at yourself. Beautiful. Taking my cock so well. Don’t worry. I have this all recorded if you’re too cock drunk to watch yourself now, cariño.”

You can't say anything back. You try really hard to come up with something but the only word that comes out of your mouth is “please” over and over again becoming progressively needier each time. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, his chest flushed against your back, allowing him to rock you back against his forceful thrusts.

“Gonn’ make sure I put a baby in you tonight, cariño,” he growls in your ear. “I can’t wait to see your tummy swell in a few months. You’ll look divine, I won't be able to take my hands off you even more.”

His eyes are back to a glowing red as they meet yours that are glazed over by tears and lust. His hand tightens his hold on your hair making you tilt your head further, exposing more of your neck for him to suck bruises on. Your tits are bouncing freely at his aggressive pace. Coupled with the high-pitched moans coming out of your mouth, it’s all so pornographic. It makes you feel like liquid fire is running through your veins and pooling into your stomach.

“You’re gonna cum for me? Let go. Come on. cum for me, mami,”Miguel grunts in your ear, his hand on your hair letting go so he can greedily grab at your tits. “I wanna feel your cunt pulsing on my cock. Can you do that for me? Of course, you can. Going to milk me dry.”

And just like that, you throw your head back on his shoulder, eyes screwing shut as another wave of orgasm crashes down on you. Miguel follows closely, filling you up with more cum that drips down your thighs and on the bedsheets. Your body slumps back against his, too tired to keep yourself upright. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes, content with feeling Miguel’s warm body against yours.

“I got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and moving you to lie down on the bed. You hum in contentment, letting him care for your tired body. He bends down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he pulls away. You miss his touch already.

A beeping sound lets you know that he turned off the monitors. You feel him taking the soiled bedsheets, getting up from the bed to get fresh ones. You have half the mind to reach out to him and tell him he can clean up later so you can cuddle now. Your mouth, however, doesn’t want to move so instead you groan as you blindly reach your hands out.

Miguel chuckles at your antics, walking back with fresh sheets and a damp towel to wipe off the sticky mess from your body. He sits next to you on the bed and brings the towel to your tear-stained cheeks, gently dabbing the area around your eyes to get rid of the messed up traces of mascara and eyeliner. You take your hand to rest on your chest trying to calm your wildly beating heart.

The comfortable silence, unfortunately, doesn’t last long. You hear the unmistakable voice of Lyla cut through the air.

“Heeeey, bossman! Heeeey, girlie!” she drawls and your eyes snap open as you snatch the sheet from Miguel’s hands to cover yourself.

“Ay, coño! I thought I said no alerts tonight,” Miguel looks pissed, rubbing his face in frustration before moving to turn off his watch. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait! Sorry to interrupt the big night, Miguel, but it’s an emergency. Trust me you’ll want to fix this now,” Lyla raises her hands in surrender before Miguel presses a button. She turns to you, looking apologetic and asking for help “Then you can go back to babymaking, right, dollface?”

“I–” you flush, choking on your own words. You begrudgingly turn to Miguel, your lower lip caught in between your teeth. You lower your eyes as an ugly feeling crawls up your chest.

“It sounds important. You should go,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to speak up any louder. “I’d say I can be back up but I can hardly move so you’re on your own, big guy.”

Miguel sighs and gets up, telling Lyla to send him the information and that it better be worth his time.

You are already sexually satisfied and tired – that’s what four orgasms could do to you – but you are a little upset and sulky that Miguel has to be called in for work right now. Stupid anomaly or whatever it is. It’s probably important and a universe out there might be in grave danger. But you can't help feeling like shit about it though.

You like how soft Miguel gets when he cleans you up after sex. You like it when he picks up your tired form and whispers soft words to you in Spanish. Plus, you were looking forward to cuddles. What’s the use of having sex in his room on his bed if not to cuddle afterward and wake up next to each other the next day? And then, suddenly, in the early morning light, realize that you’ve been madly in love with each other all along. Okay, you are more than just a little upset.

Miguel notices you pouting and your eyes getting glassy with tears as you try to roll off the bed. He shoots his glowing red web at you, trapping you where you are before going back to readjusting his watch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, walking back to the bed as he makes sure his suit is all good and ready for the mission. He kneels on the bed to drag you to lie on your back.

“What are you doing? I'm going to take a shower,” you sniffle trying to avoid his eyes “I’ll take care of myself. you should go”

He hums as he takes both your wrists in one hand and forces them above your head to secure them together with his webs.

“Miggy?” you look at him and there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. He darts his tongue across his lower lip and you feel a shiver run up your spine.

He doesn’t respond. He only keeps looking at you like he’s going to devour you once more. He brings your legs up to the position he had in before, knees to your chest, cunt fully exposed to him. You blush and your heart starts pounding in your chest. He shoots out more of his web, making sure you’re comfortable and your legs are securely tied in that position.

“Good?” he whispers and you nod in response “Words, cariño.”

“Perfect,” you moan, your chest heaving with need. He smiles at you fondly, caressing your cheek with a curled finger, and plants chaste kisses on your temple, your nose, and the corner of your mouth until he reaches your lips. He hums in contentment as he savors the feel of your lips against his. Then, he pulls away reluctantly and puts on his mask. He sets his watch to the right coordinates opening up a portal to wherever the universe needs saving.

“I’ll be back as fast as I can. I’ll make sure that anomaly regrets ever being made for interrupting my plans for our night,” he grumbles and gives you one last kiss through his mask for good luck. “And then it’s going to be all about you for the rest of the night, hm? I promise.”

He walks into the portal backwards so he can look at you until it closes and takes him away. Your heart flutters in your chest, anticipating what’s to come as you feel the webs digging deliciously into your soft flesh.

•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•

Translations:

Que linda - how pretty

muñeca - doll

cariño - dear/darling

Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am I going to do with you?

Qué haría sin ti? - What am I going to do without you?

conejita - little rabbit

pobrecita - poor thing

que rico - “[you] look good” (literal: tastes good)

Podría acostumbrarme a esto - I could get used to this

Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces - You're so beautiful. You don't know what you do to me

Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor - You feel so good. You were made for me, my love

Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía. - My beautiful girl, my sweet girl. Mine. All mine.

mami - mommy (as an endearment for a partner)

coño - pussy

A/N: so many thanks to my friend who helped me with translating and giving me tips on some better Spanish terms to use 🙏

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #potchy-writes #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x female reader #chubby reader

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ranticore · 10 months ago

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I wanted to keep drawing some pern dragon stuff because I'm now writing a full AU set in weyr but I didn't want to put this stuff on my main blog or patreon due to it being basically for my own reference, though i felt others would like it too! so here is My Take On Dragon Wings By Type...

It's no secret I love drawing bird wings and prefer them a lot over traditional dragon wings. Growing up, I read the pern books featuring cover art of dragonfly-like wings with lots of little translucent panels, which I always loved. So I thought I'd try to nail down some wing shapes & structures by blending those two things i like together. I am aware dragons fly by telekinesis but I prefer a more realistic type of creature design so I will be choosing to ignore that fact. I do not care about strict canon compliance but I do like to keep some of that framework there as well, for fun.

The wing is made up of three main sails, as well as a propatagium sail (in front of the elbow). They are relatively polymorphic and can expand or contract to an extent to change the shape of the wing in response to flight demands, like the wing of an airliner. The trailing edge can expand and the slots between the spars of the 1st wingsail can deepen or become shallower (where those are a feature). The main structural matrix is opaque, while the membranous 'sails' are translucent and let light through like stained glass. These are a bilayer of membrane with air sandwiched between, which forms part of the air sac & respiratory system.

It makes sense for the original engineers of dragons to diversify dragon wing types by colour so that when fighting Thread, there's a dragon for every conceivable aerial job.

[individual descriptions under the cut]

Queens have the longest wings, though the largest bronzes can rival them for surface area. Gold wings are high endurance - a queen can fly further than any other dragon in active level flight, leaving even the swiftest bronzes behind if they can't muster up the energy reserves to catch her. She is an effective flier at all elevations and can pass very low over terrain without issue as well; she is an expert at taking advantage of the ground effect, where extra lift is generated within one half of a wingspan above land. This way, she can pass low below the main wings fighting Thread to catch any stragglers without expending too much energy. However, she is not very agile and may need a bit of a run-up or cliff-edge to get airborne.

Bronzes are suited for command positions during Threadfall, rising highest and maintaining that altitude effortlessly by soaring on thermals. From this vantage point they can easily survey the wings of riders below and make tactical decisions to direct the tide of battle. They have the size and stamina to chase queens, but might find it difficult to keep up on the flat, so they continually select for fitter hatchlings as only the best manage to mate. It takes a very clever and agile bronze to catch a green, if they are so inclined.

Browns are swift, highly agile, and the fastest vertical fliers, ideal for diving through the Thread mass from top to bottom while the other types pass horizontally. During earlier Passes, browns were capable of using their speed to catch queens, but as queen & bronze endurance gradually increased, browns struggle to keep up if they haven't managed to immediately catch their mate in the starting scrum, which is unlikely due to the bulkier bronze dragons being able to shove the browns aside.

Blues are fast on the flat and nicely manoeuvrable, with enough endurance to last a full Threadfall. Good all-rounders with a characteristic vertical take-off, they work best in the horizontal plane in battle but really they can do a little bit of everything. They often beat browns to catch greens, being very precise in flight and almost as manoeuvrable as their green mates.

Greens make up for their low stamina with their extreme manoeuvrability. Their short and elliptical wings let them turn on a dime, hover, and even fly backwards if they are sufficiently skilled. They have the fastest wingbeats, flying with a distinct thrumming sound. Of all the types they are least likely to be hit by a stray Thread, but they tire easily on the flat and have no soaring ability at all, often tapping out midway through battle in favour of replacements. In battle, greens excel at catching odd and skewed clumps of Thread that don't fall as predicted, or ones that are missed by the other riders. Green mating flights are a whole different beast to gold mating flights, where extreme aerial acrobatics are favoured instead of endurance and altitude, and these flights may be over within seconds. You need to be able to withstand a Lot of G-force to be a green rider.

#dragonriders of pern #hi it's me again. this is my sketch dump blog (very new)#pernese dragon #pern

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ihavethedreamies · 3 months ago

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Stupid | Wooyoung

Jung Wooyoung - ATEEZ)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~10.3k

Pairing: Wooyoung x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Actual Plot, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Friends-to-Lovers, Comfort

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Caution: The angst in this story is more familial based. There are mentions of adultery/infidelity, but it's not dwelled on. This could be triggering for those who have had parent's leave or other similar circumstances, so just be warned.

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Princess, Sweetheart, Sunshine, etc.), Childhood/Teenage Trauma, Family Issues, Tears and Crying, Swearing, Unrequited Love, Kind of a Love Triangle, Kissing, Dirty Talk, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Marking/Hickeys/Scratches, Couch Sex, Shower Sex, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill)

Author's Note: Hm, just thought I would do this since I made something similar for San.

(S/N) is for the name of your sister.

Move Update: We are headed out next Monday for our new state (back to where I was born actually) and I'm gonna have to live at my uncles for a month before the new house is ready, so I will be writing a lot there, so get ready.

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

The only sound you could hear was your own aggressive keypresses. You had paused your music to go to the bathroom and didn't bother hitting play again. Staring hard at the screen, your eyes hurt even with the dark theme applied. The colorful lines of code on the dark screen blurred and refocused, and you blinked, trying to force your eyes not to blur. Sighing, you pushed back from your desk, rubbing over your eyes. Taking your computer glasses off, you let them fall onto your desk and you got back up. It was really hard to work at 2 am, let alone when your thoughts were racing. And the thoughts had nothing to do with your job. The last thing you needed the day before a project was due was to loop on irrational thoughts. Your socked feet thumbed on the wood floor of your hallway as you went down it. Your sister's door was propped open, so you quietly opened the door, peeking inside. The soft teal lighting strip lining her walls cast a faint glow over the room. She was starfish-ed on the bed, peacefully and messily asleep. Huffing, you stepped out and shut your door. How nice it must be to be thirteen. Pulling your phone from the pocket of your sweatpants, you exited the hallway and went into the kitchen. The large open room of the apartment included the kitchen as well as dining and living areas. A spare room was in the back corner, empty since your friend had moved out a month before. Another room sat across from it, the large windows of the studio covered with tall curtains, but you knew it was just full of boxes of old things. Someday you would have the courage to go through them and get rid of stuff, maybe use the studio for an office or something, but…

Opening the fridge to get the pitcher of orange juice, the door shut, and your eyes focused on the dark on the picture magnetically attached to the front. The picture was of a once happy life you lived. A black squiggle covered the face of the man, the woman next to him smiling like the sun. Glaring at the censored face, you yanked the photograph from the magnet clip and slapped the picture down on the counter. The pitcher followed and as you grabbed a glass, you plucked the scissors from the small utensil-filled mug on the counter. After pouring yourself a drink, and taking a few sips, you grabbed the photo. Holding it up, you realized it would make sense to turn the overhead light of the range hood to see better, but you continued in the dark. Opening the shears, you cut a tiny slit into the white border of the photo and halted. The little line split the man's pants from the shoulder of the little girl's white sundress; she was no more than four. She was sitting on the lap of a girl looking much the same, just about twelve years older. It was weird to see such a bright smile on your face.

The purple-handed scissors clattered onto the Formica counter; the photo still held in the crook of the blades. Resting against the counter behind you, you drank the juice in gulps, hissing through your teeth when it was gone like it was some kind of liquor. The glass-mimicking plastic cup clanked into the sink, and you left the kitchen to shuffle back to your room. As you reentered, you yanked the zipper down of your hoodie, nearly tearing the garment off and throwing it harshly onto the floor. You let the door click quietly closed despite wanting to slam it and went back to your computer. Your chair let out a puff of air when you plopped down into it, the remaining pieces of the candy necklace you had on bouncing over your collarbone. Crunching on one of the sugary beads, you flipped your phone over, so the screen faced up, tapping the black surface and a small white notification bubble showed itself under the white numbers of the clock; 2:13 am. Unlocking the phone with your finger print, you opened your message app and you sniffed at the message in annoyance.

🦊WooWoo🦊: did you get it done?

He had sent it nearly an hour prior. You glared at your computer screen, then to the second monitor, the program running over and over, glitching at the same time stamp each time.

☀️: not even close 🦊: why are you up young lady ☀️: why are you?

He didn't reply right away so you looked back at your computer, clicking your tongue. Hitting save and closing the window, you instead opened up a new email and sent one to your coworker that it might not get there by tomorrow night but that you would try. It wasn't a hard deadline anyway. You worked for an Indie label, not some AAA, so that gave you some flexibility. Closing the window, you stared at your background for a good few minutes, waiting for Wooyoung to reply. The picture used to make you smile, but it hurt your heart. San's cute dimple smile, and his arm around you made you wince. Wooyoung was on your other side, his cheek pressed into the side of your head as he hugged you. You were leaning into San, trying to escape the other man's embrace, at least that was your excuse. The picture was getting close to five years old.

🦊: games 🦊: why are you up ☀️: working. thinking 🦊: about? ☀️: how shit I feel 🦊: you sick??

You rolled your eyes; he wasn't super intuitive sometimes. It was almost 2:30 in the morning though.

☀️: no. how shitty my life is now compared to back then…

Once again, he took a bit to reply, and you almost got up to use the restroom then go to bed. Your phone then buzzed on the desk, the noise even louder going through the wood, and you grabbed it quickly, answering the call.

"Your life isn't shitty (Y/N). I'm here, huh?" His giggle was forced. You just huffed, getting out of your desk chair to move to your bed.

"Livin' the dream."

"What's it this time? Your…da- uh, male life giver?" His little catch at least made the corner of your mouth crook up.

"Yeah."

"How's (S/N)?"

"Good, I guess. She…she was a bit too really remember either of them."

"Even if she doesn't it can't be easy with…how it all played out." He was trying to be careful with what he said, but you were already in a bad mood.

"Our dad cheating, leaving us for his second family and then my mother…" You thought tears who come to your eyes, but maybe you were too tired.

"Where do you think she went?" Your best friend's voice was soft.

"No clue. Neither did Gramma, or the cops. She could be in Timbuk-fucking-tu for all I know."

"Do you want to go out tomorrow with me and San? Or do you have to work?" Before you could answer, your phone buzzed, and you pulled it away from your ear. Opening the email from your coworker, you sighed in relief. Perfect timing.

"Not anymore. The character models are getting scrapped and redone so that means my code has to be scrapped. Might be why I couldn’t get it to move right."

"What about (S/N)?"

"She's thirteen not three. I'll have her sleep over at a friend's maybe…"

"Great! Get some sleep, sunshine. Meet us at 9!" He hung up and you flopped back onto your mattress, feeling disappointed for some reason. Finally working up the energy to get off the bed, you went back to your computer and shut it down, staring at San's smiling face a little too long, before letting it actually turn off.

~*~*~

"Good morning, little lady." You left the hallway, sandals in your hand. Your sister sent you a tired look over her cereal, waving lazily.

"G'mornin'."

"Do any of your friends get to have sleep overs on school nights?" Her eyes opened a bit wider then, then squinted as she thought.

"Uh…probably. Going out with-" she gave a flirty pose, batting her eyelashes, "Sannie?" then dropped the act.

"Shut up, you little shit." You threw a stray cheerio at her, and it nearly stuck to her cheek.

"Wooyoung's going too."

"Oh. You ever gonna tell him?"

"Tell San I like him? I don’t know..."

"San? Oh, yeah, right. Why not?" You didn't answer right away, pouring a glass of juice.

"You're gonna turn into an orange." Your sister rolled her eyes, and you poured just a bit more before putting the pitcher back down.

"I just... I don't think I stand a chance."

"What?! Why?!" Your sister acted like you had personally offended her. Even before your whole messed up parental situation, you two never bickered or anything. Probably because you were nearly thirteen years older than her.

"I'm not his type. He probably sees me as a sister. Also, he looks like that," you motioned down at your white tank with a think blue plaid shirt over and worn denim capris, "and I'm…"

"You better compliment yourself." Your sister glared at you, making you sigh.

"He likes the girls in skirts with makeup and their nails done. The ones that giggle at everything he says and touch his bicep ‘accidentally’…" You drifted off, getting mad at the mental pictures.

"Then do all that." (S/N) shrugged, getting up to put her cereal bowl in the sink.

"Counter." You corrected and she rolled her eyes, taking the bowl out and moving it to the counter.

"(S/N), I don't even own a tube of mascara." You sighed, then proceeded to down your orange juice once again like it was a stiff drink. Your throat burned and your stomach stung somewhat…maybe you did drink too much.

"Use mine."

"What?" You turned fast to look at her and her eyes were wide in panic.

"I only have mascara, I promise!" She lifted her hands in surrender, and you breathed out your nose. She was only a year off being allowed make up, you at least wanted to maintain the rules your mother put on you with your sister. Even if a lot of them never had to be enacted on you.

"Look, I'm just going to go hang out with them and pretend one of my best friends isn't sex on legs."

"I'm pretty sure they both are, but okay." (S/N) muttered under her breath as she passed you to go get her backpack and you pretended to not hear her.

~~~

"Bye, sis!" (S/N) got out of your car and headed into her middle school. She was the one of the few who didn't mind being seen dropped off right in front of the school, but laid-back older sisters are much, much cooler than any parent.

"Just text me who you can stay with!" You called to her, and she turned around with a shocked face.

"Right! What about my bag? My locker's not big enough!" She realized, coming back to your rolled down window, leaning into it.

"I'll bring it by after your club meeting is done."

"Really!? Can you bring WooSan?"

"Don't call them that!" You scolded but laughed nonetheless, "Sure."

"Bye, sis!" She took off again, meeting her similarly uniformed friends by the entrance. You were blessed that the school was willing to take her in for free more-or-less on a scholarship. Your mother wanted both of you to go to the same school, but it was private, and you were in no way capable of paying. If you were, you wouldn't be driving a wine red 2002 Hyundai Sonata with suede upholstery. Pulling out of the drop-off line, you continued down the road till you met the traffic light. It sat at the edge of the academy's campus and the park where you were meeting the guys was just past the light. As you waited for the light to turn, you tapped your fingers on the steering wheel along to the music playing on your radio. The light took even longer because the crossing guard was leading a group of elementary schoolers across. You were watching them pass in their cute little uniforms when you were startled by a knock on your window. You flinched, looking to see what looked to be a high school boy on the other side. You rolled the slightly tinted glass down just enough that you would be able to hear him. He flashed a smoldering smile, and you blatantly sneered.

"What, kid?"

"You obviously don't go to school here, you from the public school?" How dumb was this kid? You hadn't been in high school for seven years. You had a college degree and everything. Most might take it as a compliment to be seen as looking young enough to be a teenager, but…

"Get lost, squirt." You scoffed, looking away but not bothering to roll the window back up. You were a bit curious what his reaction would be.

"I might look young, but I'm a senior this year, princess." He was clearly a little put off by your flat dismissal, trying to keep a flirty tone.

"Fuck off, kid. She's our princess." A familiar voice hit your ears, and you sighed in relief, watching Wooyoung essentially hip bump the kid so hard he fell back onto the sidewalk. Your heart skipped as you huffed a laugh, watching San come up as well and unlocked the doors so the two guys could climb in, right at the light turned green. San barely shut the back door before you took off, leaving the teenager's friends laughing at his sorry state. Crossing the median, you pulled into the parking lot of the park and slumped back into your seat.

"Got your favorite." San leaned forward, toned arm hovering over the center console, holding a plastic bag with one finger.

"Sweet!" You swiped it from him and Wooyoung got out, running around to your side where the window was still rolled down.

"Hey, pretty lady, want to go make out behind the bleachers?" He leaned against the side of your car just like the cocky teen had and you couldn’t help but laugh.

"Uh, no." You wondered if he caught you glance in your rearview mirror to watch San get out of your car, holding the drink holder of ice coffees as well. You couldn't meet his gaze though, and surprisingly, he didn't respond, just stood up and started to follow San down the path.

"Hey, wait up!" You got out quickly, nearly forgetting your phone and to lock the car as you dashed after them. Finally getting half-way around the pond that was trying to be a lake, you sat on a picnic bench of the wooden shelter right on the edge of the water. Some ducks quacked as they lazily swam closer, hoping for a snack. As you took a long sip of your ice coffee, you watched San get up and go closer to the ducks, a little bit of his croissant left. Your eyes couldn't help but travel over the wide expanse of his shoulders and back. His arms were on display since he was in a sleeveless hoodie, and you smiled at his as the ducks happily ate the bread.

"That's bad for them, y'know?" Wooyoung called and the other man tossed him a bored look over his shoulder, then went back to the birds. Because you were too busy eyeing over your friend, you didn't notice Wooyoung watching you. He lifted half of his nose in a sneer, glaring at his friend who was taking up all of your attention. Wooyoung wanted to blame it on that San had started working out since you had all started being friends, but he wasn’t sure that was it.

"Just fucking tell him." He whispered harshly to you and his sudden mutter made you choke. San immediately turned around, and you waved him off, but he still went to your side, patting your back some to help.

"You okay?" He kneeled next to you, and you nodded, flashing a small smile, trying not to get red. Not like you could control it. Just then, something green flew through the air, flying past San's head as he stood, and he was toppled over by a mass of blonde fur.

"Jeremy! Get off of him!" A young woman scolded the golden retriever as it refused to get off of San, sniffing him and licking his face. Why am I jealous of a dog? You sighed, slumping back against the wood railing of the shelter.

"Why don't you tell him?" Wooyoung's next whisper was much softer, he sounded very tired.

"And get rejected? Ruin our friendship? No." You whispered back, still watching the cutest thing you've ever seen. The dog was a fat mood, refusing to get off of San.

"I'm so sorry!" The woman finally managed to pull the dog off of the man and he got up laughing. She immediately blushed, finally able to see San past all of the fluff. Looking away and down the path to where the green flying disk still lay you got up to retrieve it, since the dog had failed its job.

"Here." You forced a smile as you handed it back to her and she snapped out of her daze to take it from you, immediately looking back to San. Luckily, she left not too long after and you were able to continue the day with the two guys.

~*~*~

A week passed, and you still hadn't been able to work because the rest of the team couldn't get their act together and finish their parts. So, you had been left to your thoughts which is never good. You sat on the couch, boredly and only partially watching the TV. Your knees were pulled up to your chest and your hands lazily tapped a rhythm on the worn faux leather of the couch. Tilting your head, it rested on the back of the couch, and you stared at the ceiling of your loft apartment, the large ventilation pipes curving around the support columns high above your head. When the doorbell rang you almost didn't recognize it, thinking it might have been on the show. It happened again and you knew it was yours because the TV now displayed a commercial for some kind of sports drink. Getting up with a groan, you trudged over to the door, socked feet shuffling over the wood floor. When you opened the door, a young woman sat on the other side, and her face made you nervous. She looked…

"Hi. Are you (Y/N)?" She smiled gently and you nodded.

"I'm Jena (L/N). Can…can I come in?" When she said her last name, your heart fell. You knew immediately who she was.

"Sure." Your tone was flat, but since she didn't know you, it seemed she didn't notice. You motioned her in and toward the couch and you glanced around your place. It wasn't messy, but it wasn't nice either. She was in a sundress that was at least $300, and she had a giant rock on her finger. You grimaced as she sat on your very well-worn couch and you sat down as well, facing her by sitting sideways. She put her designer bag down, linking her fingers and resting her hands on her knee, legs crossed.

"I'm sorry to intrude, but…I'm assuming you know Daniel (L/N)?" You never wanted to hear that name again.

"Uh, yeah." You shuffled on the couch, the faux leather creaking under you.

"I'm his daughter. I have to admit I was a little…stalky?" She cringed at herself, smiling sheepishly.

"Dad is…well, he doesn't have much longer." When you didn't really react, she continued. On the inside, you just weren't sure how to react.

"They don't know if he drank too much when he was younger or what, but his liver is failing. He's been on a transplant list, but they can't find anyone compatible." She’d better not have come to get you to give him half of your fucking liver-

"Anyway, I was looking over his will-"

"Where's your mom?"

"Huh?"

"How…what about your mom?"

"Oh, uh." She looked down, a sad expression covering her face.

"When he got sick, she left him, so I'm in charge of everything." Rolling your eyes, you huffed, looking toward the kitchen, focusing on the picture on the fridge you meant to cut up.

"Uh. Right, your name is on the will." She pulled a packet of paper from her purse, showing you where your name was highlighted. You didn't even care what he was leaving you, so you handed it back.

"I don't want it."

"O-oh…if you don't mind me asking, who are you?" You raised an eyebrow, and she wilted under your glare.

"You don't know?"

"No, sorry." She hid bashfully behind the papers, "are we cousins or something?" You just stared at her in shock.

"No offense, but it’s a bit weird to have a niece in your will when you have four kids?"

"Look, if you want my part, have it."

"No! That's not… Actually, the reason I'm really here is-" She pulled something else out of her bag and you recognized it.

"Dad kept saying the name Naomi." You stood up at this and she flinched. You paced a bit, hands going to your head, fingers digging into your scalp. Breathing out slowly, you turn back to her.

"Sorry…keep going, I'm just…struggling with this." She seemed a bit unwilling to continue without asking anything, but she did so as you sat back down. Your ire was evident, you were sure.

"Um…well, I couldn't figure out who she was, so I looked in his yearbook. He's…" She flipped to the middle of the book, "with a girl named Naomi." She showed you the page, but you already knew it. High School Sweethearts read in flowery script over the picture of your parents.

"But when I looked her up, I couldn't find anything." Of course not. You never could.

"So, I used Google's new AI search with this picture, and I found a woman…" You hadn’t gone that far, still not really trusting any kind of program claiming to be AI. She pulled out another paper from her bag and showed it to you. It was an article about some town's mayor on the other side of the country, and the caption listed the woman next to him as his wife. It was your mother. But her name was wrong.

"It says her name is Carry, but that looks like the same woman, right?"

"Y-Yes."

"Maybe they’re sisters? Twins even? I know it’s a long shot, but do you have her contact information? Even if they broke up soon after high school, maybe she would be willing to see him since he's dying…" As soon as you saw her face on the paper, your anger left, and you were holding back tears.

"I don't…but-" you took a shuddering breath, "uh, I don't think she'll go see him."

"Really?" She deflated a bit, and you looked down at your lap, picking at your torn jeans.

"Uh. No. She's… Okay, I'm in the will because I'm your sister. Those are my parents. She’s my mother." This information floored her, her jaw literally dropping. Sniffing hard, you hated crying, let alone in front of essentially a stranger.

"How old are you?" Your question snapped her back, making her flinch.

"T-twenty." Of course.

"Dad…He uh, left us and mom for…you guys. Then mom fucking snapped or broke or whatever and left us too." You looked at the printed off article, at your mother's smiling face next to some man you had never seen or heard of before. This shocked her even further. You gave her the article back and stood moving to the door.

"Uh, take me out of the will or whatever and just leave us alone please. Thank you." You opened your front door, not able to look at her.

"U-us?"

"Ah. (S/N). My thirteen-year-old sister." This must have really made this Jena girl realize why you acted the way you did. It wasn't that your father left your mother then fathered her, he had both families at the same time.

"M-my brother is twelve." Reality was hitting her.

"Great. That sucks for everyone, please leave." You motioned with your arm for her to get out and as soon as she shuffled out into the hallway, you let the door fall closed. Your shoulder hit the wall, and you slumped to the floor, hot tears falling down your cheeks and onto the floor. Your chest heaved as you sobbed, hand covering your mouth to keep you quiet.

"Fuck!" You screamed, grabbing a cheap ceramic bowl you used for change and chucked it across the room. It hit the column behind your TV and shattered, coins clattering onto the floor in its trail. You buried your face in your hands, breathing harshly, trying to prevent yourself from hyperventilating. Your phone buzzed on the coffee table. It buzzed again a few minutes later, then again. Again.

"Damnit." You got up, storming over to your phone, looking at it. It was the group chat, Wooyoung and San were talking about doing something the next day, some kind of lawn game competition at the community college. When they saw that you read the messages and didn't reply, your phone rang with a call from Wooyoung.

"I know that we're not in college anymore, but we can get away-" You had stopped crying more or less, but hearing his voice brought tears back to your eyes and you fought a sob.

"Are you crying? What happened?"

"U-um…" You swallowed hard, a lump rising in your throat along with the tears.

"I'll be there in five…six minutes!" He hung up and you let the device fall onto the couch. Your shoulders fell as you stood in the middle of the main room of your place, glaring at the coffee table's scratched surface. A tear fell onto the plywood, then another. Snapping out of your daze when hard knocks pounded on the door, you only got halfway to the door before he opened it, finding it unlocked.

"(Y/N)?" Seeing the concerned face of your best friend made you feel safe and so your self-erected walls fell. He shut the door as he moved forward, catching you in his arms as you shriveled to the floor. Wooyoung held you tighter as you cried, desperate sobs and whimpers muffled as you pressed your face into his chest. Your tears darkened the red fabric of his sweatshirt, and he adjusted your position, so you sat on the floor, legs over one of his, cheek pressed to his collarbone. A tear of his own fell and mixed with yours on your jaw, but you didn't notice it. He didn't know what happened that wrecked you so bad, but he couldn't stand hearing and seeing you so upset. He even hated it if you cried at a movie.

"What happened, sunshine?" His embrace loosened so you could sit up straighter, tears still falling, but you weren't actively sobbing. Wooyoung cupped your cheek in his hand, wiping a tear from your eye. You had to take several deep breaths through the story, but you managed to tell him what happened.

"M-my mother's alive, Wooyoung." Your voice had quieted so much at the end that, but he still heard the pain.

"(Y/N), sweetheart, come here." He stood, helping you get up and he led you over to the couch. He grabbed your phone, and you rested back on the couch as he easily put in your pin without having to ask what it was. You listened half-heartedly as he called your sister, most likely just getting out of class, about to go to her art club meeting.

"Again? Is this going to be weekly? I think I can stay with Amanda, maybe Emily…" You heard (S/N) sigh, "what about my stuff?"

"Can't you manage with borrowing?" Wooyoung cast you a glance, your forearm over your eyes.

"I guess. What’s wrong with (Y/N)?"

"She's just really struggling with something."

“What?”

“Adult stuff.”

“Okay, yeah, sure, uh-huh.”

“She’ll tell you when she’s ready, little lady.”

"You better take good care of her Mr. Jung."

"I will Miss (L/N)." He hung up and put your phone back down. You felt the couch shift when he stood up, then felt his body heat as he kneeled on the floor next to you. Wooyoung gently removed your arm from your face, and you turned to look at him.

"Oh, sweetheart." He sighed, hand going to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the red skin of your cheek, brushing away a stray tear.

"C-can you call San? And we can watch a movie? Get Indian food?" You weren't sure how to read Wooyoung's expression. He seemed to be thinking, but then he forced a smile and nodded.

"Sure, princess." Wooyoung stood and pressed a long kiss to your forehead, and you blamed your turbulent emotions on your racing heart.

~*~*~

About two weeks later, you found yourself sitting on the couch, staring at the number you plugged into your phone. You hadn't pressed call yet, the non-local area code of the number glaring at you. It was a long shot, but you hoped calling the mayor's office might get you somewhere. You had been stalling for a long time, his office would only be open for another hour thanks to the time difference. Your sister was getting annoyed with you having her stay the night at a friend’s place, but luckily, she had a slumber party she was invited to. The sun was starting to set, and you finally worked up the courage to hit call, then turned it onto speaker, at 5:57. It was probably around 3 there.

"Mayor Elledge's office, this is Peg."

"Hi, uh, Peg. I'm…I'm trying to get in contact with Carry Elledge, but I'm not sure how to get ahold of her…" The silence scared you, worried that the woman would be too suspicious to help you.

"May I ask who you are?"

"I'm…a relative. It's about…my father's will." Please work.

"I see…I can get you her cellphone number." The secretary relented and you sighed in relief, thanking her several times. Typing the number she gave you into your notes app, you politely end the conversation and went to call the other number while you still had the courage to do so. Ring. Ring. Ring-

"Hello, this is Carry?" It was your mom, no doubt. Tears welled in your eyes, and you swallowed, voice coming out softer than normal to keep from crying.

"M-mom? It's me. It's (Y/N)." More silence.

"I think you might have the wrong number, dear." You felt your face fall, your eyebrows furrowing, your lips trembling.

"This isn't Naomi (L/N)?"

"No, dear, sorry." There wasn't any kind of recognition in her voice, but it was hers.

"O-oh…okay, sorry." The call ended and you pressed your lips hard together, jaw clenched. What the hell happened? You sat trying to wrap your head around everything, about thirty minutes passed and your phone rang. It was a different number, but it was the same area code as the other two.

"H-hello?"

"Are you the young woman looking for Naomi (L/N)?" A man spoke, and you wondered if it wasn't the mayor guy.

"Yessir."

"You must be (Y/N)."

"What the hell happened to my mother?" Your tone didn't have nearly as much malice as you had wanted. Even if this guy did nothing wrong, you hated him. He sighed. He explained that he found her near death in an alleyway. She had malnutrition and was dehydrated. He got her to the hospital, she was in a medically induced coma for a few days, and when she woke up…she didn't remember anything.

"So, she has no idea about her past life?"

"No, miss."

"Thank you for…not letting her die."

"I'm sorry to not be of more help Miss (Y/N). Though, I don't think it’s good for her to be reminded of her past life. I called because she is…having a panic attack. Maybe it was your voice, some part of her recognized it maybe? It’s clear she is traumatized from her past. I think it would be best if you leave her be." You didn't want to. You wanted to get in your car, grab your sister, and drive for the three of four days you needed, and get your mother. But…she wasn't your mother anymore, even if she did remember you, it was clear her brain was hiding you and your sister.

"I…Okay. If you want to know, Daniel (L/N) is dying."

"Good."

"Yes."

"I appreciate you wanting to reach out, but I would like you to lose our numbers.

"Yessir." He hung up. Your body must have run out of tears along with your energy because you just slumped back into the couch. Something rose in you then, something bold. Grabbing your bag, phone and keys, you left your place, heading for Wooyoung and San’s.

~~~

As you rode the elevator to the third floor, you were shaking. Whether it was nerves or pure exhaustion you weren't sure. Going down the hall, you heard voices further down and you finally saw the owners as you turned the corner. San was standing at his apartment door, some bleach blonde girl wedged between him and the door. You weren’t sure how to feel, your emotions were too turbulent. Somehow it felt like your heart finally completely shattered, but you also were relieved, but the latter made you mad. You turned and fled before you could see his lips actually meet hers.

~~~

"(Y/N)?" You heard your name through the door, then Wooyoung's rapid knocks. You were slumped against the island counter, hands stinging and bleeding, shards of glass and ceramic scattered around the room. Tissue paper and packing peanuts were strewn about the main room of the apartment as well, old papers and books torn and discarded. Splinters of wood from broken frames and dismembered toys littered the floor as well, and you ran your thumb over a glass paper weight shaped like a cat.

"(Y/N)?!" Wooyoung jiggled the door handle harder, but it was locked. A red smear followed your thumb on the glass cat, the cuts on your palms still oozing blood.

"Damnit, (Y/N) (L/N)! Open the fucking door, I know you're in there." He was panicking, you could hear it in his voice.

"Fuck off." You sighed, throwing the glass piece as hard as you could, and it hit the far wall. The ear chipped off and broke, the finish over the brick wall flaked off, then it clattered to the floor.

"(Y/N), please princess, let me in." You heard a thump, presumably his forehead hitting the door. You licked your lips, the salt of your tears hitting along with the iron tang of blood. You weren't sure if it was from where you had bitten your lip or the cut on the tip of your nose.

"(Y/N). Please, I need to see you, sweet girl. Please let me know if you're okay." You didn't know what time it was, just that it was late, only the light of the storage room flowing into the room from the door. Your phone had been going off, and you hated the message you saw on it, so you chucked it across the room as well, breaking it instantly. The place was a mess, and you were grateful your sister wasn't home to see your breakdown.

"Go away, Wooyoung." Your voice was hoarse after your crying, but the door was thin, and you knew he heard.

"Not a fucking chance, (Y/N)."

"Just…just let me be alone."

"No! Open the door, damn it!"

"Go home."

"Shit. (Y/N) open the freaking door or I'm coming up the fire escape!" You knew he meant it. You got up, not bothering to be careful of what you stepped on, only wincing slightly as a speck of glass wedged in your foot, joining other scrapes and cuts already present. Shakily, you undid the door chain, and he must have heard you turn the deadbolt and the lock on the knob, because he opened the door before you could. He gasped, looking at your face, pale but red from smeared blood of the small cuts on your face. He looked at your hands too, and the bloody footprints on the floor.

"Oh my God, (Y/N)." Wooyoung shut the door, dropping his backpack and cupping your face with his hands. They were cold from being out in the early autumn night and you didn't even react when he did so. Wooyoung lifted your head so you could look at him and his brow furrowed in despair at the blank look in your eyes. Finally, he looked around the room in the low light, shocked at the carnage.

"I called her." You managed to get out and he looked back at you, confused.

"Mom. I looked up the mayor guy's office number and called. She didn't… She didn't know who I was. Her husband called and told me she had some kind of amnesia after he found her. Then he told me never to try again. So, I…" you licked your lips, "then I…I decided and went to your place. San was taking some blonde bitch into the apartment." Your breath shuddered and his shoulders slumped.

"(Y/N)-"

"I…I went to the store, but they were out of Cayman Jacks. The Indian place down the street closed early. The pizza place was out of white sauce… I grabbed some random food from the convenience store and then when I got home… I got a text from that Jena girl, my half-sister," you spat, "dad's dead."

"(Y/N), sunshine, you must… What can I do?" He stepped closer, one hand leaving your face to grab your hand. You flinched at the sting, and he held your hand up to see the cuts in the skin. It looked like you had a few splinters as well.

"Help me clean this mess?"

"I’ll just do it, lets get you cleaned up first."

He picked a few splinters out of your hands and feet, then sent you off to shower. Wooyoung vowed to work on the mess more later, maybe even get Seonghwa to help, but he dealt with the dangerous stuff first. He had shoved and/or swept all the debris into a big pile in the ravaged storage room, leaving the mess for another time. After carefully picking up all the sharp shards and splintered wood, he vacuumed to make sure everything was picked up. He glanced up when you shuffled out of the hallway, a towel draped over your wet hair, a soft light-weight grey sweater draped over your torso, and a darker gray pair of shorts nearly hidden by the shirt. Your head was bowed, hands and feet red and he shuffled over to lead you to the couch.

"Did you use soap?"

"Mm. Conditioner stung." You sat, and he pulled your hands into his lap so he could look them over.

"I'll help you with these." He let your hands go and then his own went to the towel on your head, gently rubbing it over your hair, then scrunching the strands with the fabric to get more of the water out. Gently he laid it around your neck and shoulders to the still damp strands didn't drip on your shirt. When Wooyoung returned with your first aid box from the bathroom, you were still sitting in the same spot, staring blankly at a spot on the couch. Sighing, he went back to you and neither of you said anything as he smeared ointment on the cuts. He went ahead and just wrapped some bandages around your right hand since it was so cut up, but put band aids on the other. Wooyoung did the same with your feet, and you didn't even flinch even though you were usually ticklish there. As he finished some other little tidying things, you ran your finger over the chipped nails of your opposite hand, the polish flaking and cracked as well even though (S/N) only painted them two days prior.

"(Y/N), look at me." He prompted and when you didn't, he gently lifted your head with his finger under your chin.

"I'm so sorry, princess, that your…about your mom. And your father. But with San-"

"It was a stupid thought. I don't know why I got the courage to go." You tried to look away, but he forced you back to look at him, thumbs stroking your cleaned face. The little cuts had already pretty much closed, and he leaned forward and pressed a small kiss on the scratch on the tip of your nose.

"It's not stupid, (Y/N). Neither are you, he is." You huffed a wry laugh, but he shook his head.

"No, he is. He's a fucking idiot. You wanna know why?"

"Yeah, why?" You pulled both of your legs up under you, leaning with your side into the back of couch, head resting on the back cushion.

"Any many who wouldn't fall in love with you after knowing you is an idiot. I think I'm the only smart person there is." Wooyoung shook his head, throwing the band-aid wrappers onto the coffee table. It took your tired brain a bit to process what he said, but you still barely had the energy to snap your head up to look at him.

"What?"

"You've looked at him like he hung the moon for like two years but you’re still like a sister to him or something. Fucking stupid."

"You love me?"

"Yes! And you're an idiot for not noticing. That's why I'm the only smart one." He stood up to actually throw the wrappers away, using the task to flee since he was flushed from his confession. He stood looking down into the nearly full trash for a few seconds, trying to think of what to do next. Before he could turn back to you, he felt your arms wrap around his middle from behind, your cheek pressing to his back. He wasn't very tall, one of the shortest in your friend group, but you were small compared to him. Normally your hugs had a great deal of strength in them, like you did as a whole, but while they were around him, they were shaky.

"I'm sorry for being an idiot, Wooyoung." Your voice was quiet, he felt it vibrate through him more than actually hearing it with his ears. He sighed.

"Its…its fine. You can't help how you feel any more than I can." He laid his hand over your arm, gently prying you off of him, but pulling you back into him once he turned around. Resting back against the island, you went with him, letting him hold you close. His fingers ran through the drying strands of your hair, and you shuffled even closer when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I…My brain is too frazzled to give you a response right now, Woo. I…I want to tell you-“

"It’s fine, (Y/N). I wasn't expecting anything back…"

"No, its…I can't put my emotions together right now, but I might like you back, but it could just be my subconscious looking for comfort."

"Can I help? We can talk it out? What do you want me to do?"

"What do I want…?"

"Anything." You pulled back to look at him, looking over his face. He was so freaking pretty, his longer black hair was pulled half-up, a few strands framing his face. The ends of the little strands brushed over the beauty mark under his eye and your eyes flitted to the small one he had on his lip. You bet most people didn't even know it was there. Bringing your left hand up, your sleeve fell so it was no longer hanging by your fingers, and your index finger ran over the small dot. You flinched when he quickly grabbed your wrist, a little tighter than it maybe should have been. He realized this and loosened, sliding his thumb up to your palm.

"(Y/N). Be careful, sweetheart." With his grip on your wrist, he pulled you closer.

"Anytime you're close to me I want to hold. I want to kiss you. I want to pin you to the nearest surface and…" He licked his lips, brow furrowing, "Don't let me do something you'll regret because you are weak now." You grimaced, looking down, stepping back from him.

"D-don't…" Your breath shuddered and he could tell you were starting to cry again.

"Hey, hey." He pulled you back in for a hug, "I will hold you as long as you want. I can lie on the couch, and you can lie on me. We can sleep there. We'll watch that movie you like so much that your sister hates…" You sniffed, nodding and he kissed the crown of your head before you pulled back, and he led you to the couch. Not even ten minutes later he was stretched across the old couch, you nestled half on top of him, half between him and the back, the intro of The Last Unicorn playing on the TV. You normally didn't use a blanket on the couch, not unless you were upset, so it was tucked under your chin.

"How did you know to come?"

"Huh?"

"Why did you come here?"

"Oh. (S/N) was freaking out because you weren't answering any texts or video calls, and your phone was going straight to voicemail. I texted her that you broke your phone and that she didn't need to come home." Like it felt left out, his phone buzzed, and he shifted to grab it from the coffee table. You sneakily glanced and saw that it was from San.

🐯: where you at??

He just put the phone down, but it buzzed not even a minute later.

🐯: is (Y/N) ok, or do I need to send Becca home and come over?

"You better not fucking come here." Wooyoung huffed quietly, managing to use one hand and reply.

🦊: She's fine now. Leave us alone.

"That's harsh."

"He broke your heart; I should be much worse." He clicked his tongue, picking his phone up when it buzzed again on his stomach.

🐯: wtf you good? Are you mad?

"Yeah, I'm fucking pissed."

"He's calling." You mumbled, looking at his screen while he looked at the TV, trying to think of what to say. He angrily slid at the answer button, having to do it a second time for it to work.

"What?!" He nearly shouted into the phone, his even louder than normal voice sharp in your ear.

"Sorry, sweetheart." Wooyoung brushed over your hair, "What?"

"Woah, dude, are you sure you're okay?"

"What. Do. You. Want?"

"Woo." You scolded, and that seemed to make him even madder.

"Is she okay?!" San must’ve not heard.

"Yes, you stupid- She's fine. What do you want?"

"Can I talk to her?"

"No, you can't."

"What? Why?"

"Just go…hang out or in Becca or whatever-" You smacked his chest and he yiped.

"Did you make her upset; did you guys get into a fight?"

"No-"

"I'm coming over-"

"Damnit, no!"

"I don't see why you fucking care, Choi San." Something snapped in you, your last vestiges of rationale fizzled out. Wooyoung choked around a laugh, quickly putting the call on speaker.

"(Y-Y/N)?" He sounded like a whimpering puppy.

"Why are you trying to stick up for me or defend me?"

"Y-you're…you're like my sister-" Your fingers dug into Wooyoung's shirt so hard you scratched the skin underneath some, and you sat up, grabbing the phone.

"You know why I wasn't okay? Huh? I found out my mom's alive but doesn't remember me or my sister. My dad is dead. I couldn't get my favorite butter chicken, and the guy I like is at his place sucking face with some chick who looks like she can't do basic addition. So, fuck off San." You hung up and slid Wooyoung's phone away, so it landed on the coffee table, sliding just a bit further past where it landed. Huffing, you laid back down onto your other friend and continued to watch the movie. You both tried to focus, but after a few minutes, you both burst into laughter, and it was a good five minutes before you could fully calm down.

"I'm so fucking tired." You rested your hand over your eyes, wedged between Wooyoung and the couch and he turned toward you, blocking your view of the TV.

"Do you feel better though?" He brushed your hair off your face, and you nodded, nestling into the crook of his neck.

"Just sleep, sweetheart." Wooyoung pressed another kiss to your forehead, and you couldn't help but listen.

~~~

You woke up sore, not sure if it was from sleeping on your shitty couch or from the destruction you wrecked on your apartment the night before. Wooyoung was still asleep, curled around you, and still so, so pretty. You assumed he thought that if you waited, you would realize you were just wanting Wooyoung for comfort, not because you liked him back. But, after sleeping on it, you weren't so sure. Before, you really didn't know if you liked him back or not, but as you watched him sleep (feeling a bit creepy honestly) you thought about it. When you first became friends, you had a pretty big crush on him. The closer you got, the more it seemed he got on your nerves, and he was just annoying and immature. But after graduating, you got much closer; he really was your best friend. You were genuinely closer with Wooyoung than San, but you almost always hung out as the three of you. Could you have liked both, but chose San because you didn't want to admit you had liked Wooyoung the entire time you knew him? Did he annoy you so much because you had feelings for him, like some elementary age boy who pulls a girl's hair? And says he hates her? Gently, so as not to wake him, you cupped his jaw with your hands much like had the day prior to you.

"Be careful, sweetheart." He echoed the same words from the day before, not even opening his eyes.

"Why?" His eyes finally opened, the intensity in his gaze taking your breath away. Wooyoung scooted an inch closer, pressing you further into the cushion, his knee wedging between your legs. You gasped when he pressed closer, finally feeling him against you.

"If you let me kiss you, I won't stop there." His lips hovered over yours, tongue flicking out and running over your bottom lip as well as his.

"Then don't."

"(Y/N)-"

"I'm sure, Wooyoung. I thought about it, and yes, I have…had a crush on San. But that's what it is, like a school crush. You were right that I was stupid. I don't love you because you're my best friend, you're my best friend because I love you. I’m in love with you." Normally such flowery words would make you cringe, but yours were genuine. He breathed out hard with his nose, brow furrowing, eyes flitting away from yours, down to your lips.

"That was part of the reason I was so upset last night. Yes, I felt heartbroken from seeing San with that girl, but I also felt horrible, because I wasn't nearly as upset as I thought I would be. I was just glad it wasn't you with some bleach blonde bitch. After I found out about my mother…I was really glad it was you that came over and not San." Wooyoung couldn't hold a giggle back, trying to keep his face serious, but he couldn't.

"And I'm glad my sister called you, that you came." You smiled purely, but his turned to a smirk, the arm not under your head curling around you. You gasped when he slid the last little bit closer, hitching your leg over his hip and grinding his hardening cock into you.

"You have ten second to tell me to get off, otherwise I'm fucking you stupid on this couch." You whimpered at his words, hands leaving his face and resting on his shoulders. You bucked your hips, causing him to let out a soft grunt.

"Stupid, huh?" You smirked back and you squeaked when he rolled on top of you, soft lips capturing your chapped ones. The kiss wasn't gentle, his tongue quickly invading your mouth, tasting every inch of your tongue, his strong thigh hitching hard against your mound. Sneaky hands snuck under the waist band of your shorts, fingers pressing hard into the flesh of your ass, pulling up against him, feeling the outline of his dick against your tummy. Wooyoung pulled back from the kiss, letting you catch your breath, a trail of saliva dripping down your chin. He kneeled over you, pulling his shirt off and chucking it across the room. You whimpered, your own sneaky hands stroking over the skin of his chest and abs, when had he been that built?

"Up." He ordered, and you sat up just enough for him to pull your shirt off, along with your sports bra underneath.

"Fuck!" You twitched as those sinful lips wrapped around your nipple, teeth nibbling the peak before moving to the next, then up. Finally, his trail of kisses stopped at your throat, and he sucked your skin between his teeth there. It was too high to hide, and he worked the skin nearly raw, leaving a large purple welt on your jaw.

"Ah!" You jerked under him when his hand dove under your shorts and panties, two fingers swiping through the slick of your folds.

"You’re already this wet for me, sweetheart?" Wooyoung chuckled in your ear, those two fingers not hesitating to plunge into you. The sudden intrusion took your breath away, the slight burn left your head swimming. He only pumped the digits maybe twice before retracting his hand, and instead shoving his fingers in his own mouth.

"Oh, fuck." He groaned, climbing off of you, then shoving you up the rest of the way on the couch, landing on it with his stomach. Your shorts and panties flew through the air, joining the rest of your clothes and he threw your legs over his shoulders. Your skin felt like it caught fire when his tongue wasted no time in wiggling inside your cunt. It was long and he knew how to work it, his nose brushing your clit as he drank from you like a thirsty dog.

"Woo-Wooyoung, god!" Your breath hitched, legs twitching around his head, that deft tongue leaving your core to circle your clit, those two fingers sinking into your heat once more. He pulled back, licking his lips, spread into a sinful grin.

"You taste so fucking good, sweetheart." He groaned, crooking his fingers up hard, battering your weak spot.

"W-w-wait!" Your orgasm was coming on fast, and his fingers kept up their antics as he laid over you again, nose nuzzling behind your ear.

"Cum for me, princess." He licked over the crest of your ear, and he chucked breathily as your cunt clenched and spasmed around his fingers, their wiggling spurring your orgasm along. You shuddered and heaved as he pulled out, and you flinched when the slick pad of his index finger lowered, swirling over your pucker.

"Huh?" Your back arched from the odd sensation, but he didn't go further than a few teasing brushes.

"Maybe later, I want to taste all of you. And I want to fuck you full of my cum there too." He sank his teeth into your earlobe, and you turned your head to the side submissively, whimpering.

"Oh, you're a good girl, huh?" His teeth scraped along the column of your exposed throat, your head twisting more to give him better access.

"Fuck, you're gonna feel so good on my cock, princess." Wooyoung groaned, scattering kisses over your neck, shoulders and throat as he wiggled to get his pants and boxers off. Hauling you back down the couch, he easily grabbed your thighs to lead you to wrap them around his middle. You sighed feeling the heat of hard cock slide through your folds, head swimming as the fat head prodded your entrance, then slid up.

"Wooyoung, please~!" You whimpered, wanting him to sear through you, craving the burning sting.

"You wanna know something, sunshine?"

"What?" He chuckled at your slightly slurred speech.

"I plan on railing you so hard you don’t even remember who San is." He hummed and you couldn't brace for his entrance, his fat cock filling you with a hard snap of his hips. Your back arched, breath forced out of you, chipped fingernails digging crescents into his back. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream, gummy walls spasming and fluttering around his cock, somehow the pain of him gouging into you threw you over the edge so quickly it made your clit sting too.

"God, fuck, Wooyoung!" You finally caught your breath enough to speak and he groaned long and deep.

"You're so fucking perfect, (Y/N). Oh, sweetheart, you're made for me!" He groaned a laugh, fading into a whine as the clenches faded with your orgasm. You felt like a truck hit you, vision blurry, lower half protesting at Wooyoung's brutal entrance, but you loved it. Your hips jumped again, cunt sucking him in further when he sat up more, pinning on of your knees to your shoulder, holding the other at his waist.

"Look at your cute pussy struggling to take me, huh?" He loved the sight of your tight core weeping around his cock, slick shining along his flesh and both of your inner thighs.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart~" He giggled, and your fingers gouged lines down the skin of his back as he started, pace immediately relentless, battering your cervix with the head of his dick. The hand at your thigh holding it to his side left, sliding down your body and gripping your ass.

"Hm, you like it, pretty girl? Like my fat cock?"

"Fuck, yes, Woo~" Your breath heaved, and you let out a delirious giggle, gasping and whining hard as his rapid pace barreled you through your third orgasm. Your cunt stung, but it was so good. You squealed when his hand left your butt, only to slap the skin hard, the sting travelling up your hip and into your thigh. He felt your walls grip him harder at the spank, so he did it again, harder.

"Oh, shit-" Your head lolled against the couch cushion, face and neck flushed, heaving for air. Your nails clawed down his chest to his stomach and he licked his lips at the sting.

"(Y/N), you're such a good girl, yeah? My good girl~"

"Y-yours!"

"Yes, sweetheart. All mine, oh, you're doing so good."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, princess. This pussy's so good too, welcoming my cock home?"

"Yeah!" You giggled, dumb on his cock and he hadn't even come once yet.

"Aw, love, can I cum inside? You on the pill, yeah? Let me paint you white, huh? Fuck you full of my cum, then flip you over and give you more?" He was laughing every few words, sounding almost a bit delirious himself. He had wanted to have you like that for so long, and he was going to fuck you on every surface in the place if he could.

"P-please!"

"Okay, I'm gonna then-" Wooyoung hummed, it faded to a groan, then with a few more stuttering thrusts, you felt heat blossom in your lower stomach. His cock pulsed as rope after rope of hot jizz filled you, a few drops leaking from where he split you open, leaving a mess on the couch. Your body jerked as his orgasm faded, you almost blacked out from your own. Your clit was throbbing, folds swollen and red, but he was still painfully hard.

~~~

"Hold on here." Wooyoung moved your hands to the mount of the shower head, and you wrapped your fingers around the metal pipe. Your toes curled as he entered you again, hot water hitting his back and dripping off of him onto you. Drops of cum hit the shower floor along with the water and he started to pound into you again. The water made the slaps of the skin of his pelvis against your butt and thighs all the louder, nearly muffling your soft whimpers and mewls. Your ass was red, covered in hand-shaped welts, thighs littered with hickeys and kiss-marks. His back, chest and stomach were covered in scratches, a bite-mark etched into his shoulder and a single hickey clung to his jawline. You weren't sure how long it had been since he first got inside you, but it had to have been hours ago. You had no idea where his stamina had come from, and your once burning cunt had more or less numbed to the sting of overstimulation, tiny orgasms shattering through you without warning or reason. You felt the wet strands of his hair on your shoulders as he leaned over you, hand cupping the underside of your breast, the other over your hands on the shower mount.

"Fuck, (Y/N), I love you. I love you so much." He kissed your shoulder, avoiding a sore-looking mark he had left.

"I-I love you t-t-too, Wooyoung-!" You heaved for air as another tiny climax shivered through you.

"Breathe baby, you gotta pace yourself, I still gotta fuck you stupid.” Wooyoung giggled and you just squeaked and mewled, since he already had.

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop smut #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #wooyoung fluff #jung wooyoung

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colourstreakgryffin · 4 months ago

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Nezuko!reader × Alastor please🙏

Haha! Awww! I am not sure it’s platonic or romantic but I’ll go with what I’m thinking. I think Alastor would have lots of fun with a Nezuko!

Alastor- Bamboo Binds

You’re one of the weirdest demons he’s ever seen. You don’t want to eat demons? What’s the point of being in Hell then if you don’t sin. That’s how Alastor feels and that’s how he thinks as he watches you with the sharpest eye a deer like him can at your entrance to the Hotel

As soon as Charlie checked you in to the Hotel, she begun introducing you around and trying to have you befriend everybody but yet, you somehow clicked the most with Alastor. Nobody can explain it, you just did

Alastor can’t help but view you as an attached kitten, following him around, your off yet cute bamboo muzzle, light pink kimono and long haori covering your body well, light pink slit eyes. You’re so cute, like a child. He can’t help but view you as a child… a naive, easily manipulated little one

Alastor eventually ‘adopts’ you after pretending he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence around him for quite some time. He finds you way too perfect for his own purpose to just ignore your existence further so he goes from ignoring to openly addressing you

Alastor just drags you around when he needs you. He has a tab on you so he can teleport you from place to place with his voodoo magic. He nicknames you ‘Kitten’ so his voodoo entities know the target but he won’t ever explain how he managed to spread his magic onto you

Alastor isn’t the biggest fan of your bamboo muzzle since it’s restricting your ability to communicate so the only way he knows your answer is based on nonsense muffles and your gestures. At least, you’re naive enough for this to work

Alastor isn’t entirely sure what to call you. You’re not necessarily a younger sibling or a child figure to him but he also doesn’t feel comfortable with calling you a servant. You’re just some type of thing he favours and appreciates but also needs for his own selfish reasons

Alastor may pretend he doesn’t truly care for you but he does. He’ll put on your muzzle for you, he’ll crate a shade for you so you can walk in the sun of the Pride Ring without being burnt and he’ll give you a corner for you to sleep in. He does care… in his own way

Alastor also does express that he isn’t a fan of your style but is of your preferences. You’re from the Tashio Era, around his time on Earth so you view technology like him and it makes him feel more appreciative that you get him. You’re his best tool ally after all, he didn’t suspect anything else from you

Alastor is surprised by how sweet and compassionate you are to him, even him where everybody else kinda makes sense. He isn’t a nice man at all, he may believe he deserves a number of things but does he deserve kindness from people like you or Charlie? Not really. He doesn’t want it but once more, he doesn’t care much

Alastor is actually quite impressed and interested in how you’ve basically been brainwashed… through whatever, maybe some old guy, into believing he is your family so you defend him, just viewing your lost siblings through him. He finds it cute how you rely on kickboxing to fight or even argue, he finds you cute. Like a little fawn

Alastor believes you’re a powerful useful tool-ally to him. You keep his threats away, you serve him. It’s a give to and give back relationship you two share. You give him something, he gives you something back as to keep you under his thumb

But really… he’s grown to have a bit of a soft spot for you so he will tolerate giving you and your pretty blank pink eyes a bit more benefits than he would normally dare to

That shrinking power of yours is great at infiltrating Vees Tower and squeezing through hidden areas easier, and whilst Alastor does leave you to do those type of missions solo as a ‘favour’ in exchange for a ‘favour’ back, he likes you too much to let the Vees lay a hand on you so he swoops in when he needs to

Alastor has seen your Awakened Form before. The first time he’s ever been intimidated in this realm. It was triggered during the Exterminator Battle for the Hazbin Hotel. You were kicking around angels viciously, setting them ablaze, almost targeting your own allies out of immense hunger, but Alastor had to restrain you to stop you from going too far and it… was amazing for all that he even stepped in, despite the danger you opposed in this state

Your strength and your healing fire touch makes you become a further valuable item to Alastor, more and more everyday, so it makes him protective and possessive over you. A demon with your power and capabilities must be under his servitude but also being treated like a pampered kitten by him and only him

Alastor legit gets so pissed if anybody dares to put you outside in the sunlight with no protection, even when they don’t mean to hurt you! It doesn’t matter to him!

“Oh. My darling little kitten, are you tired? Come. In this box, where you’ll be in my tower with me as I work. High up, away from the sun and from your belly rumbles. Does that sound good?”

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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 3 months ago

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A race for love p.3

Hii guys, I hope you enjoy this part, here's part 2 if you've missed it.

- Austrian Gran Prix 2023 -

As you step into the Austrian Grand Prix, your heart pounds with a mix of excitement and nerves. The roar of engines, the buzz of fans, and the vibrant energy of the paddock are almost overwhelming. You take a deep breath, trying to soak it all in.

"Y/N, I have to go back with the team to arrange some details," your dad says, pulling you out of your thoughts. "Do you want to stay at the motorhome or wander around?"

"I'll go for a walk, but I can be back for lunch if you want to have lunch together," you reply, not wanting to intrude but hoping for some time with him amidst the chaos.

"I'm not sure if that'll be possible. I have to talk with some investors over lunch," he answers, sounding apologetic.

"Oh, it's okay, Dad, don't worry. Maybe another day," you say, trying to hide your disappointment with a forced smile.

He nods, giving you a quick squeeze on the shoulder before hurrying off. You watch him disappear into the crowd, a mix of longing and understanding tugging at your heart. With a sigh, you turn and start to wander around, deciding to make the most of the day on your own.

You stroll through the F1 paddock, marvelling at the impressive setups, the gleaming cars, and the intense focus of the teams. It's thrilling to be so close to the action, but after a while, you find yourself gravitating towards the F2 and F3 areas. Franco had mentioned he'd be here for some tests, and the thought of seeing him brings a flutter of excitement.

As you make your way through the less crowded F2 and F3 paddocks, you notice a few drivers chatting and mechanics working on the cars. The atmosphere is slightly more relaxed here, and you feel a bit more at ease. You walk around, peeking into garages, hoping to catch a glimpse of Franco.

Suddenly, you feel two hands cover your eyes from behind. "Guess who?" a familiar voice whispers playfully in your ear.

A grin spreads across your face. "Hmm… is it… Lewis Hamilton?" you joke, playing along.

Franco laughs and removes his hands, spinning you around to face him. "Close, but no," he says, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You chuckle, feeling a little shy but happy to see him. "Hey, Franco! I was hoping to find you here."

"Well, here I am," he says, flashing you a charming smile. "Wanna walk around with me? I have a bit of time before I need to get back to the car."

You nod eagerly, and the two of you start strolling through the paddock together. Franco points out different things as you go, sharing little tidbits about the teams and the cars. He's animated and funny, making you laugh with his impressions of some of the more eccentric engineers and drivers.

"So, how are the tests going?" you ask, genuinely curious.

Franco shrugs, a hint of a sheepish smile on his lips. "Not too bad, but not great either. I'm still getting used to some of the adjustments they made to the car. It's all about finding the right balance, you know?"

You nod, hanging on his every word. "I bet you'll figure it out. You're a great driver."

He glances at you, his smile softening. "Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot coming from you."

You blush at the compliment, looking down at your feet for a moment. "So, what's next for you? Are you hoping to move up to F2 next year?"

Franco's eyes light up at the question. "That's the plan. It's tough, though. There are a lot of talented drivers all fighting for the same spots. But if I keep pushing and show them what I can do, who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky."

"I hope you do," you say earnestly. "You deserve it, Franco."

He grins, giving you a playful nudge. "You're making me blush, Y/N. Keep this up, and I'll be too flustered to drive."

You laugh, feeling more at ease with every passing minute. "Well, we can't have that. You need to be in top form for your sprint race."

"Exactly," he says, his tone teasing. "And I should probably head back soon. Gotta get in the zone."

You nod, feeling a little disappointed that your time together is coming to an end. "Good luck, Franco. I'll be cheering for you."

He smiles, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. "Thanks, Y/N. It really means a lot to have you here. Maybe we can hang out more later if you're free?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," you reply, your heart fluttering at the thought.

Franco winks at you before turning to leave, his confident stride carrying him back towards his team. You watch him go, a smile on your face and a warm feeling in your chest, already looking forward to the next time you see him.

After Franco heads back to his team, you decide to wander around a bit more before making your way back to the F1 paddock. The air is filled with the sounds of engines revving, and the scent of fuel lingers in the air. It's all so thrilling, and you find yourself smiling at the sheer energy of it all.

As you walk, a sudden gust of wind sweeps through the paddock, causing papers and debris to scatter. Something light and red flutters through the air and lands near your feet. You look down to see a Prema Racing cap lying on the ground, the wind continuing to tug at it.

Instinctively, you bend down to pick up the cap. Just as you stand back up, you hear a voice behind you.

"Hey, thanks for grabbing that!"

You turn around and feel a jolt of surprise. Standing in front of you is the boy from the Barcelona Grand Prix, the one who nearly ran you over with his scooter. He’s wearing a Prema team jacket, his brunette hair slightly tousled from the wind. His brown eyes are bright as he steps closer, taking the cap from your outstretched hand.

"You're welcome," you say with a smile. "It was about to fly away."

He looks at you more closely, squinting a bit as if trying to remember something. "Wait a minute… Have we met before?" he asks, a curious smile playing on his lips.

You can’t help but laugh. "Yeah, we did. Barcelona, remember? You almost ran me over with your scooter."

His eyes widen in realization, and his cheeks flush a deep red. "Oh my god, I’m so sorry about that!" he exclaims, clearly embarrassed. "I was in such a hurry, I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t mean to—"

You wave a hand, cutting off his apology. "It’s fine, really. No harm done. Just gave me a bit of a scare, that’s all."

He rubs the back of his neck, still looking sheepish. "Well, I’m glad you’re okay. I’m Oliver, by the way. Oliver Bearman." He extends his hand with a friendly smile.

"Y/N," you reply, shaking his hand. His grip is firm but gentle, and there’s a sincerity in his eyes that makes you feel at ease.

"Nice to officially meet you, Y/N," Oliver says, grinning. "I promise, no more scooter incidents."

You laugh again, enjoying his company. "I’ll hold you to that."

Just as you’re about to say more, a voice calls out from behind Oliver. "Bearman! We need you over here, now!"

Oliver turns his head towards the source of the voice, one of the Prema team members waving him over urgently. He gives a quick nod before turning back to you. "Looks like duty calls," he says with a small sigh. "But it was really nice running into you again, Y/N."

"Yeah, you too," you reply, feeling a bit disappointed that your conversation is being cut short. "Good luck with everything."

"Thanks," Oliver says, flashing you one last smile. "Maybe I’ll see you around this weekend?"

"Maybe," you say with a nod, hoping that you do.

He gives you a small wave before jogging off towards his team, putting the cap back on his head as he goes. You watch him for a moment, still smiling from the unexpected encounter.

As you turn back towards the F1 paddock, your mind buzzes with everything that’s happened today. From spending time with Franco to running into Oliver again, it feels like this weekend is already full of surprises. You can’t help but wonder what else might be in store.

With a renewed sense of excitement, you make your way back to the hustle and bustle of the F1 paddock, eager to see what the rest of the weekend will bring.

Here's part 4

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #oliver bearman x you #oliver bearman x reader #oliver bearman #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto x reader

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crowsoundsonly · 1 year ago

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a healing touch.

pair: loki x fem!healer!reader

word count: ~1.8k

summary: your magic is requested to help a certain prince.

warnings: nothing graphic! but injuries (bruises) and mentions of throwing up (which never actually happens); light kissing and unrealistic escalation at the end, i acknowledge but this was a completely self-indulgent fic.

a/n: i hope you guys like it !! i am such a SUCKER^tm for hurt/comfort and healing fics, so i think that you'll discover a reoccurring trope in a lot of my work lol.

Finally settling in for the night, you slip out of your dress and into your nightgown, the cool breeze from your open window acting as a balm brushing against your aching temples. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. The events of the day play through your mind as you recall the various patients you helped to soothe their aches and pains.

You make your way to your bed and throw the covers back, ready for a night of pleasant dreams. While you know you should not, you indulge yourself in thoughts of the prince who keeps your secret attention. Loki hardly knows that you exist, but you are content in keeping your interest from afar. He has come to your nursing station a few times, seeking out your particular skill set as a healer, but his mother is practiced enough so he rarely calls for your help.

Laying back and resting your head on your pillows, your thoughts are interrupted by an urgent knock at the door. You shuffle out from under your sheets and pad your way to the door. Frigga Allmother stands on the other side of the wood, her eyes filled with concern.

“Your Highness,” you say as you bow slightly, surprised by the visit. You open your mouth to ask her why she has come, but you are interrupted before the words pass your lips.

“Your healing is requested,” she responds, sounding almost rushed, but she does not let on more concern than what you can see in her eyes. “Would you come with me?”

You find a pair of slippers and a robe at the end of your bed before you follow the queen through the hallways of the palace. She leads you silently to a green wooden door ornamented with a gold door knob.

She turns to you, finally explaining why you are needed. “Loki has been hurt. It is of his own making, and it is beyond my abilities to help. He is laying in his bed. Please do what you can.” And with that, she leaves you in front of the door, heart racing with nerves and confusion. You take a deep breath, then turn the knob.

Your heart leaps into your throat at the sight of the prince, curled up on his bed. His face is ghostly, his body having obviously gone into shock at the injuries he has suffered. Yet his injuries are what confuse you the most. There is no blood, no gashes, no obvious wounds except for the dark bruises that litter his pale skin. But they are everywhere. From his neck, all the way to the waistline of his pants, purple and black bruises mottle his skin.

Loki is so out of it that he does not even bother raising his head at the sound of your entrance. He simply stays curled up, the pain plain on his face. You glance around the room, then to his bathroom, looking for a bowl. You spot one made of gold and grab it before making your way to the prince in his bed.

Crouching down beside him, you whisper, “Your Highness?”

At his title he stirs, eyes fluttering open just enough to meet yours.

“I have been called in to help you. Is it alright that I touch you?”

He nods slightly as a shuddered breath escapes his lips. Your fingers skim over the bruises, prodding ever so slightly to see how severe they are and if there are any bones broken beneath them. You can see the swelling in some areas, and he sucks in a sharp breath when you touch a particularly swollen spot on his side. You can’t help but let out a sympathetic sigh.

“Your Highness, I will be using magic to help you. This does require me to press the injuries which can be very painful,” you pause, allowing him to process your words before continuing, “I have this bowl that I want you to hold, so if the pain is too much you can throw up in it, okay?”

He grimaces at the thought of the pain he will endure for the next hour as you use your magic, but he nods in recognition.

“I am so sorry,” you whisper before beginning your work, the familiar tug of magic pulling at your fingers.

You press a hand to his side to the area that is swollen the most, letting your magic seep beneath his skin. Loki lets out a groan and grips the sides of the bowl you offered him. You can see his teeth clench and grind as you continue to press, your magic mending the ribs broken beneath.

Humming softly to yourself, you concentrate on your work, trying to not let yourself get distracted by the fact that you are touching the object of your affections as he lays shirtless in bed. But professionalism keeps your eyes in check, but it does not keep your cheeks from prickling with heat.

You continue your ministrations, taking a break after every few bruises that you quell to yellow. Loki has yet to do more than groan. He keeps his eyes screwed shut as you work which you are grateful for, as you do not think that you could bear being under the scrutinizing gaze of your patient.

You work your way over his body, walking around his bed and climbing to your knees behind him to touch his back. Strength is clear in his muscles, but he is not pure brawn as is his brother, Thor. Rather, Loki is lean and lithe yet coiled with power in more ways than one. After healing the bruises on his back, you run your fingers lightly over his spine, ghosting over his shoulder blades before you bridle your fingers and get back to your healing efforts.

The movement does not go unnoticed by Loki, and he has his wits about him enough to comment, “If only every touch of yours was as sweet as that.”

At his words, your body prickles with heat and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” you breathe, grateful that he cannot see your face as you curse yourself for falling into temptation.

“It was a pleasant relief from the pain,” he sighs, turning over to lay on his back, carefully stretching and twisting. His face pulls into a grimace as he is not yet healed completely. You duck your head, avoiding his eyes and leaving the comment hanging in the air.

Still situated on your knees beside him, you move your hands to his lower stomach, pressing and prodding. You can hear his breath hitch and become ragged, but you push your face closer to him in an effort to ignore how his body reacts to your touch. This only makes the situation worse, so you close your eyes entirely, concentrating your magic on healing the injuries that lie below his skin.

You slide your palm over his torso to his side that had been previously hidden to you when he was laying on it. The bruises there are not nearly as dark as the ones you have already treated, so they do not take long to ease into shades of green. At this point, you are leaning over him entirely, your breath hitting his exposed skin, and you can hear him throw his head back on his pillows, sighing softly.

“Your Highness, I am nearly finished,” you say, more for your own sake than his, knowing that you need to get as far away from him as possible as soon as possible.

Your hand lifts from its place on his side, your fingertips ghosting over his chest to find the bruise on his collarbone. Before you can make it there, Loki’s hand grips your wrist, halting all movement in you. Your eyes flash to his that are stricken with pain but mixed with gratitude.

He breathes your name as he guides your hand to his neck, fingers skimming down your arm as he watches your face. His other hand comes to guide yours to his stomach, his palm pressing yours flat against him.

“Loki,” you whisper, sure that he is confused and letting his pain govern his emotions. “There are more.”

He shakes his head, and says, “Leave them. You have done more than enough.”

You nod and shift to slide off the bed, but his hands flash to your thighs, dragging one over his hips. You know that you should stop him, stop touching him, and leave. But you are drawn to him, craving the feeling of touching his skin to do more than heal but to please.

“Loki,” you say again, a hint of warning in your tone, but he reads through it, finding the desperation in your breath.

“Touch me again,” he says, guiding your hands again to skim over his skin, feeling over every faded scar and groove of muscle.

“I shouldn’t,” you whisper, but he just shakes his head, dismissing you, leaning into your touch.

“I’m asking you to.”

You let out a shaky breath as you curl your fingers to drag your nails over his chest. This elicits a groan from the prince beneath you, and you can’t help but feel triumphant that your touch has an effect on him. You dare to lean down and touch him with more than your hands, your lips skimming over the skin of his neck.

Loki sucks in a sharp breath at this and turns his head to give you more access, encouraging you to keep going. Your lips find purchase on his collarbones, and you feel your magic tugging at you as your lips press into his bruise. You take a breath and pull away, noticing that the bruise he didn’t let you finish with your hands begins healing itself under your lips. You chuckle, discovering that your magic works through more ways than you knew.

Watching you carefully, Loki smiles at the discovery you make, his hands coming to wrap around you to urge you closer to him. You look up at him, matching his smile before tentatively placing your lips on his jaw, then his cheek, making your way closer to where you would like to touch him the most.

With a breath, Loki meets your lips with his own, sliding his mouth over yours. His hands are all over you as you kiss deeply into his mouth. You feel everywhere that he touches you, and he burns hot beneath your touch.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Your Highness?” you ask between kisses. He hums into your mouth, then nods, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“I do believe there is.”

a/n: yayayay !! thanks for reading !! let me know if you want to be on my taglist :) and check out MY SLEEPOVER going on right now !!

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki laufesyon x reader #loki series #loki #loki imagine #loki odinson #marvel #mcu

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yellowjacketsfashion · 2 months ago

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While there are lots of options as to where you can buy a replica of the Yellowjackets Letterman Jacket, they’re not always easily attainable. Last year for halloween I made my own letterman and I figured others could find my process helpful. (The supplies I used were things I already had or were accessible to me but there are other ways to create the same thing. If you have different materials that also work feel free to make suggestions or use them in your process).

HOW TO MAKE A YELLOWJACKETS LETTERMAN JACKET:

Supplies:

• Gold/Navy Letterman jacket

• Printer

• White Printer paper

• Gold Felt

•Chalk

• Heat ‘n Bond

• Embroidery floss in the colors White, Black, Gold and Gray (I ended up needing two packs of white).

• Embroidery needle

• White (or light colored) tissue paper

• White fabric (I used cotton)

• Embroidery hoop

• (Optional) White and Black thread

• Glue stick

Step 1: Aquire your jacket.

You can do a lot of different things for the plain base jacket. I bought mine off Amazon but if wanted too you could probably sew one or buy one second hand etc. The only specification is that it’s Gold and Navy. It is important to do this first because everything else builds off of this step.

Step 2: Print out designs.

Use the photos I provided below and paste them into a word document. From there you can size them up or down to reach the size that you like for printing. The “Yellowjackets” logo is for the back of the jacket so when I did it I kind of split the photo in half and put it on two different pages. In the end it turned out to be just shy of 13 inches length wise. The round patch goes on the front and mine was 4.25 inches in diameter.

Depending on the size of your jacket your patches can be bigger or smaller, but once your happy with the sizing you can then move onto the next step.

Step 3: Gather supplies.

The gold felt is to be used to create the back patch. Because of the size of mine I was able to get a little 50 cent sheet of it (I was able to place the logo at an angle to fit it) but because the patch sizes will be different it’s important to bring your print out of the logo when shopping to make sure you have enough. Most craft / fabric stores should have this in stock. It’s also a good idea to bring your letterman jacket with you to try to color match the shades of gold/yellow as best as possible.

The embroidery hoop, floss, white fabric, and thread are for the front patch as I hand embroidered mine but in theory you could use an embroidery machine or printable fabric sheets to create your patch. If you use these other methods you’ll need different supplies and different instructions that I can’t give.

The Heat ‘n Bond is to iron the patches onto your jacket so they stick (though I’ve had to re iron my back patch because the fibers of the wool make it hard to stick to). It will essentially act as double sided tape.

Step 4: Creating & attaching the back patch

• Cut out a piece of Heat n’ Bond that covers the area where your logo will go.

(i am using colored paper in the example pictures. Yellow represents the felt. White represents the heat and Bond).

• Once you have the right sized piece of Heat n’ Bond, iron it onto the back of your piece of Gold felt (make sure to follow the instructions on the Heat n’ bond packaging).

•Use your printed template of the logo and cut out the words on the felt. You can cut out the logo on paper first and trace it or attach the paper to the felt and just cut them both at the same time. (I moved the dot on the J down so that it’s still attached just to make it easier but you can do whatever you want).

• Put on your Letterman and use the chalk to mark where on the back you want the patch to go. For this step it can be helpful to have someone else assist you (though it’s possible to do it yourself).

• Take off the jacket and lay it flat to align the patch up with your chalk markings. Once it is where you want it you can Iron it onto the back of the jacket (according to the instructions on the Heat n’ Bond).

You now have a finished back patch!

Step 5: Creating the front patch.

• Trace the design of the front patch onto tissue paper (I would suggest a dark pen or sharpie so you can see it really well). If you have trouble seeing the design underneath it can be helpful to hold it to a window pane when it’s sunny or another light source. The photo of the logo I included has a white border around the black words but the patch in the show doesn’t have it so I just ignored it. From there you glue the traced tissue paper onto the fabric.

• Cut out a piece of white fabric big enough for your embroidery hoop and glue the tissue paper sketch onto the fabric.

• Put the fabric/tissue paper into the Embroidery hoop.

• Thread the needle and start embroidering the design. I found it good to use different techniques on different areas of the patch (long white stitches on the wings versus short ones on the background etc. I also thought it was helpful to embroider in color groupings (so like white all at once or yellow all at once etc. so you don’t have to switch out the floss that much). Save the white outer circle and black outline for last though to help clean everything up. The white and black sewing thread can be used to outline smaller details or neaten up some of the floss.

• Once the patch is done cut out a piece of Heat n’ Bond that covers the back of the patch.

• Put on your jacket and mark with chalk where you want to put the patch. In the show it’s placed by the second from the top button. (See Jackie reference photo at the top of the post).

• Iron on the Heat n’ Bond to the back of the patch (following packet instructions).

• Iron the Patch to the jacket based on your chalk markings.

• You have completed the front patch!

Above are some photo examples of my jacket (please ignore my messy hair in the left picture, being in the snow got it ruffled up).

Sorry for the long post but I think I got everything covered. I hope you guys found this helpful but if you have any questions about the jacket, my process, or anything else feel free to ask!

#yellowjackets #fashion #costume #diy #jackie taylor #taissa turner #akilah yellowjackets #gen yellowjackets #shauna shipman #natalie scatorccio #van palmer

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rosiestalez · 2 months ago

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One Swipe With Love

Battinson x teacher!f!reader

wc: 990

Summary: You take a shopping trip with Bruce’s card to stock up on your favorite things. You see him struggling to remove his makeup one morning, and you help him take it off. He does the same thing after a long day of work.

Warnings: None, pure tooth rotting fluff

——————————————————————

Bruce could never take off his eyeliner properly. He would rub his eyes raw with soap and water, and for some reason it wouldn’t come off with as much ease as yours did. He would borrow your eyeliner from time to time, the water proof stuff, and he thought that was issue. Yet, when it was time for bed he’d still have remnants of his batman eyeliner smeared on his eyes.

When you came home one afternoon with a Sephora bag he was quite intrigued by your purchases with his credit card.

“Hey baby!”, you speak loudly from the entry way, “I wanna show you everything!”, you kick off your shoes and make your way into the living area where Bruce is sitting watching the news. He turns to you muting the tv. You kiss his forehead before taking a spot next to him on the couch.

It always seems like you two are polar opposite, through energy, clothes, color, interests, but you two still seem to find a way to love each other. Today he’s wearing a basic black on black sweat suit, but you however an elementary schoolteacher was wearing your favorite white tennis skirt and a hot pink tank top for your day off. Your makeup was beautiful, and you decided to do a touch of eyeshadow for your shopping trip.

“Show me what you got baby”, a slight smile tugs at his lips. You smile widely dumping out the contents from the bag, “wow that’s a lot!”, his eyebrows rising, “which card was this on?”

“The Black Amex one”, you pause, “I think”, your smile still wide. He just sighs.

“Baby, you’re so lucky i love you”, you giggle at his response handing him the card from your purse, “Alright now show me everything!”, his voice lined with sarcastic cheer.

You go through all the products, what they’re used for and why you need them. He doesn’t quite understand it, but he loves seeing your face light up when you explain everything to him.

“Oh! and this! this is my FAVORITE, makeup remover. it’s like a balm and it’s old based it’s awesome! it even removes my eye liner!”, holding up a bottle of Fenty Cleansing Balm.

Bruce’s eyes light up, you said it “removes eyeliner?”

“mhmm! even my waterproof stuff, it’s great”, you smile.

“Do you think I could maybe try it soon? like tonight?”, he asks softly.

“oh! Of course my love!” nodding your head, “I can even show you how to use it!”, and with that a genuine smile plasters all over his face.

Later that night Bruce plants a kiss on your lips before he leave for patrol leaving you and Alfred alone in the Manor. You’re nestled under the covers of your shared bed reading one of your favorite books with a cup of tea by your side. He’s never here to share these moments with you like your coworkers partners, who sit with them while they grade papers or make lesson plans. For you, that’s okay, because during the day Bruce is by your side with lavish gifts, support, and during the school year he drops by the school once a week for storytelling. Finishing your chapter, you roll over pulling the string to the lamp and you close your eyes to sleep.

—-

Your alarm blares, and you hear Bruce walking into the room, ‘5:30 am’. You get out of bed to begin your morning routine, while Bruce begins his night routine. You meet him in the bathroom, and see him trying to take his makeup off. “Good morning Brucey”, you hum.

“Morning, love”, his voice husky.

“D’you need some help?”, you smile sleepily. He nods, you open the cabinet under the sink pulling out your makeup remover you baught yesterday. “okay, so this is how it works”, you squeeze out a bit from the tube emulsifying it in your hand before rubbing gentle circles around his eyes removing the black makeup slowly. You direct him to wash his face under water before taking micellar water to wipe away the rest. “There you go baby, all clean. are you headed off to bed?”

“For a little bit, i have to go through some evidence about the Riddler character.”

“Promise me you’ll sleep for at least three hours”, your voice sweet.

“yeah”, he says plainly mustering up a facetious smile. You stand up on your tip-toes and plant a kiss on his forehead before scooting him out the bathroom to shower.

—-

You were exhausted, the kids were obnoxious, the school smelled awful from whatever they were cooking in the cafeteria, and during morning work a kid puked seconds away from the bathroom door. It was truly one of your worse days as an educator and that’s saying a lot. You walk through the front door greeting Alfred, and planting yourself in the den enjoying the silence that you’ve been craving all day. You exhale deeply soaking up all the couch’s plush warmth.

“Babe?”, a voice can be heard from the door way, “you okay?”, Bruce asks.

“i’m okay, just a long day”, you smile lazily.

“Rough day?”

“Something like that”, you sit up on the couch and Bruce takes a seat beside you. He brings you into a cuddle hug, running his fingers through your hair. You move further into his embrace letting his motions relax your mind. “I need food ASAP, i’m starving.”

“Alfred is working on dinner”, his voice low, “want to take that makeup off?”

You nod simply before standing up and following him into the master bathroom. He ushers you to sit down on the closed toilet seat just as you did this morning to him. He pulls out your makeup remover from beneath the sink and follows the same steps you showed him earlier.

He gives a tender kiss on your forehead , “s’beautiful”, he compliments, you smile, reaching up to plant a kiss on his lips.

a/n: snack on this while we continue to wait for poll results:)!

#x reader #fanfic #marvel #dc comics #dc universe #dcu #dcu x reader #deadpool and wolverine #smut #angst #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #robert pattinson #battinson #batman x reader #batman fic #batman x you

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risingoftime · 2 years ago

Text

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗'𝖘 𝖒𝖚𝖘𝖊 | 𝖘𝖍𝖚𝖗𝖎 𝖔 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

synopsis: Shuri pays a visit to Riri’s new apartment but is surprised that she no longer lives alone.

word count: 3k

warnings: smut, fingering, kimoyo bead toys, vibrating toys, dom!shuri, sub!reader, orgasm control, finger sucking, overstimulation, praise, slight hurt/angst/grief, drugged sex, marijuana use, couch sex.

note: haven’t written in a while, but I’m back now! I am slowly but surely going to get through requests, so please be patient with me ˙ᵕ˙

18+ | minors do not interact

➴ feel free to send me more thots

I set up my canvas in front of me and aligned my paintbrushes in the way I liked before lighting the spliff I had rolled earlier. I’ve been trying to get motivation, but I haven't had the easiest time finding inspiration around me since my Mother passed away due to cancer. Saying that my mom was my best friend is an understatement. At times it felt like she was all I had. I don’t have any siblings, and my Dad, I try my best not to think of him anymore. I remember crying to Riri once she returned. She hadn’t responded to my calls or messages when she got involved with the Wakandans. I understood why, but I will never forget the loneliness I felt when I couldn’t turn to my childhood best friend. If there is anyone who I can count on, it is Riri. When Riri returned, she rarely left my side. It’s the reason why we share an apartment now. We live close enough to MIT, so she doesn’t have to commute far, and my art gained a lot of following, so I opened a gallery in Massachusetts. She made money from hustling students and doing their school projects. While my gallery and custom canvases have allowed me to work and afford anywhere, I please. I took a big hit of the spliff before going on my phone to order a pizza since Riri was still at MIT working on her midterms. There was no point in waiting up for her to cook. I turned up my speakers to drown out the white noise with neo-soul, thought it would suit the vibe I’m on as I smoke and paint. I turned back towards my empty canvas, fiddling with my brush. It’s been a month, and I still couldn’t get the image of the Wakandan Princess Riri described.

I already have plenty of sketches of what I thought the Princess would look like in her panther suit, but I don’t think I’ve successfully captured the vulnerable side Riri spoke of yet. I lightly sketched an outline of her face in the top corner for reference before I decided on a pose and background. I chose the streets of Chicago to drape the backdrop, the neighbourhood I grew up in. I was centring the female Black Panther surrounded by the faceless members of the hood. I got lost in my art, utilizing my childhood memories to fill out the spaces on the canvas until I was left with the area the panther would occupy. I fiddled with my pencil as I tried to envision the stoic expression she would have.

The knock at the door pulled me away from my work. I was surprised that the pizza arrived so quickly. Tony’s Pizzeria was rarely on time, but it’s the only pizza I liked and worth the wait. I grabbed the twenty-dollar bill left on the kitchen counter and unlocked the front door to find none other than Princess Shuri. I couldn’t hide the shock written all over my face. I jolted backwards away from the door, unsure how to react.

“I’m starting to think American girls don’t like me very much. Riri had a similar reaction when I first visited her at her dorm,” she laughed.

I stood straight, still shocked that she stood before me in the flesh. Princess Shuri brushed past me to enter my apartment and closed the door to the apartment behind her. The Princess was introduced to the mess I’d made while working on my canvas. My drop cloth covered the hardwood floors, my paint supplies were strewn around my wooden stool, and my big green plants were pushed to the edges of the living room. In the distance, I could zero in on my bonnet on top of the couch. That made me spring into action, trying to tidy up the loft. She probably thinks I’m a mess! I was sure that I looked frantic as I did this.

“I’m sorry, I wasn't expecting company. Riri is supposed to come home later in the evening from her exams if that’s why you’re here.” I still held the spliff in my hand and subconsciously took another pull due to the onset of the stress of having the Princess in my apartment. I regretted doing it as soon as I blew out the smoke. “Shit, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” I aggressively fanned the smoke away. But the Princess wasn’t paying attention to me. Instead, her eyes were trained on the canvas I was working on—focused on the spot where I sketched a rough draft of her face. I felt my heart beat out of my chest from embarrassment. Could anything else go wrong?

“I was just doodling and passing the time,” I tensed in anticipation of what she will say next.

“I don’t think you got my jawline right,” she said after giving it the last few glances. I analyzed her facial features and looked back to the canvas. She was right. The Princess’s jawline was now sharper and more defined. Gone was the roundness from the old photos I saw of her in the media. As I walked towards her, I pursed my lips in response and put out the spliff in the ashtray beside my art supplies.

“You should know I’m an artist and sensitive about my shit,” I joked.

“The one and only Erykah Badu,” she smiled in acknowledgement.

“I’m surprised you know the reference.”

Princess Shuri rolled her eyes at me as a way to say, “Duh.” I didn’t know much about her outside of what Riri and the tabloids had told me, which hasn’t been much. The Princess removed her blazer to make herself comfortable and revealed her toned arms in a muscle tank. I tried my best not to gawk as I watched her grab the wooden stool and place it on the opposite side of the canvas.

“Let me be your live muse, might as well get acquainted while we wait for Riri,” she smiled.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to keep me company,” I replied.

“But I want to, and pass me that joint while you’re up” Princess Shuri nodded towards the ashtray holding my spliff.

“Wait, Princess Shuri, are you even allowed to smoke?” I asked incredulously.

“Call me Shuri, and I will be coronated as Queen soon. So technically, I can do whatever I want now.”

“Okay… Shuri” It felt odd calling her by her first name. It made me feel like we were common acquaintances instead of strangers worlds apart. I passed Shuri the spliff, and she leaned in closer to me, tilting her head up to make eye contact with me to make it easier for me to light it. I quickly retreated to my easel to shift it over and prepped my colours to begin working. I watched as she inhaled and exhaled the smoke with ease as if she’s done it a million times. But, there was more to her than meets the eye.

“What made you get into painting?” Shuri asked. Her eyes observed the numerous half-finished projects and paintings on the wall. I’ve genuinely turned our apartment into a more personal studio.

“Uhm, my art helps me process my emotions and trauma. Each canvas is a journal entry for me. When I lost my Dad, I became depressed and introverted. It was my Mother who introduced me to art through different vessels in my life. She wanted me to have an outlet where I could express myself, something to soothe my soul, as she would say.” I blinked back my tears from the memories of her, the loss still fresh in my heart.

“She sounds like a lovely woman.”

“She was,” I whispered.

I briefly peeked at Shuri and saw her analyzing me. Her eyes were sad but filled with tenderness, “I’m sorry for your loss,” Shuri said.

“Me too,” I replied.

“I guess we have more in common than we think” Shuri sighed and pulled another drag of smoke into her lungs.

It was silent between us afterwards, only the music saving us from the tension in the room. I continued to perfect her jawline, adding a darker shade to add dimension. Shuri kept shifting her head, and it was beginning to make it challenging to get a good view of her features. Finally, I set down my brush in frustration.

“You keep moving, and it’s driving me crazy. I need you to keep facing forward toward me with your head slightly tilted to the right,” I huffed.

“Like this?” Shuri began posing in numerous ways jokingly, clearly feeling the effects of the weed. I couldn’t help but giggle a bit at her goofiness. I walked towards her and gently grabbed her chin to adjust her accordingly. I stood in between her parted legs to do this. Shuri’s eyes were low and slightly red. She looked at me lustfully and slowly licked her lips. My stomach erupted with butterflies, and my nerves peaked.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked.

“What? Can’t I admire you? It’s only fair after you’ve been doing the same. I want to see why Riri sings such high praises of you.” Her gaze lowered to rake over my body hungrily. Shuri inhaled the last bit of the spliff and stood before me. Holding my chin, she blows the smoke in my mouth, lips grazing mine. I was thoroughly in a daze from my high and having her so close to me. The taste of smoke and her skin drove me crazy, craving more. She bent down and peppered small kisses as she made a trail to my neck, tracing her tongue along my neck and sending shivers down my spine. Shuri smelled sweet, like vanilla and had a hint of something else. I felt the pool of arousal in my panties as she teased me with her hands, groping and massaging my ass. I lightly pushed her off me to meet her eyes, my head spinning from how fast we were moving.

“What are we doing? we shouldn’t do this,” I stated.

Princess Shuri answered my question with her own, “You don’t want me to make you feel good?”

I paused at the forwardness of her question. If we continue, surely there wouldn’t be no turning back. But I didn’t want to stop now. I went on my toes to kiss her lips once more, slipping my tongue inside to deepen the kiss. Our tongues moved against the other. I pushed my body closer, rubbing my breast against hers. Shuri lifted me to press my core against hers and guided us to the couch. I straddled her as she ground herself against me. Shuri moaned in my mouth and bit my bottom lip. Her hands were firm on my hips as she moved me against her to keep pace with her movements. Shuri’s mouth left no place untouched. She left marks on my neck down to my breast. She was sucking and swirling her tongue as she did so.

“Shuri, please, I want you,” I moaned.

“How do you want me, princess?” she cooed.

“I want you to fuck me,” I admitted. She pushed me down onto my back so I was lying on the couch. Shuri toyed with the brim of my sweatpants, making her way down to my already soaked panties.

“You feel so good,” she mumbled against my neck and rubbed my clit in circular motions. Her fingers were slick with my juices. I rolled my waist to feel every stroke and closed my eyes to focus harder on how Shuri made me feel. I found myself getting lost in it until we heard the ringing of my apartment intercom.

“Fuck, that’s probably the pizza I ordered,” I groaned in frustration at the inconvenience of their timing.

“That’s alright. I’ll go get it,” Shuri offered.

“I don’t want you to stop and leave” I couldn’t hide the pout that formed on my face from the disappointment I felt.

“Who said we had to stop?” she asked.

Shuri plucked two Kimoyo beads from her bracket and slipped them onto the folds of my panties.“Be a good girl for me, and don’t cum until I come back.” I was confused about what she was referring to until I felt the active vibrations coming from the beads. I sat up in shock from the new wave of pleasure, my mouth slightly parted as I let out a soft breath. Shuri smirked in response and got up to retrieve her blazer.

“Don’t move,” she said sternly before turning her back and leaving me alone in my apartment. A small whimper left my mouth, and my thoughts were no longer coherent. I needed her to fuck me and relieve me from my aching desires.

I began panting desperately, trying to control my breathing to prevent the orgasm that was building within me. What were minutes felt like hours. The Kimoyo beads stroked my folds and clit in a painfully slow vibrating motion. I tried to find a position that would allow me to gain relief. However, the beads increased their vibration and speed whenever I tried to adjust them. Caressing my pussy with the utmost precision. Shuri knew what she was doing when she created these. I clenched my thighs together, but it only made things even more unbearable. Finally, the friction sent me over the edge, and I didn’t know how long I could stand. My legs started to shake uncontrollably. Yet I refused to move. I want to show the Princess I can be a good girl.

When Shuri came back, I was dangerously close to unloading, “Shuri, please, I want to cum” I cried.

Shuri enjoyed seeing her effect on me without even having to lay a finger. She slowly strolled to me after placing the food on the counter. I envisioned how I probably looked splayed open and vulnerable for her taking. My hair slightly stuck to my forehead, and my eyes rolled back in anticipation of what would come next.

“Look how wet you are for me.” her gaze was fixated on the darkened moist spot between my thighs. I was soaking through my grey pants. “I want you to beg for me,” she stated.

I pressed my lips in contemplation, unsure if my pride would allow such a thing. “Or I could just leave you like this while I help myself to your pizza,” she offered. “No, Shuri please!” She raised her eyebrows and only said, “I’m waiting.” I let out another moan as the beads did not subside or pause. My clit was overstimulated and tender to the touch.

I groaned in protest and looked into her eyes once more. “Shuri, I’m begging you. I want you to make me cum, only you, please.” I rambled in desperation for her to see how needy I was for her. I had no interest in games or toys.

“Louder.”

“Shuri, I only want you right now. I’ll do anything!”

Without hesitation, Shuri removed my clothing until I was left bare. The Kimoyo beads were drenched when we attached them back to her bracelet. Her strength and swiftness were evident throughout. Shuri watched me as she petted my entrance, playing with the sultry fluids inside my folds. Her mouth hovered over mine while she whispered, “You’re so beautiful when you beg.”

Shuri started thrusting into me, pounding her fingers in and out of me at an unmatchable pace. Shuri continued to push her long slender fingers into me, slightly curling them to hit my g-spot. The way my cunt clenched around her drove her to sweet insanity. Shuri’s eyes glazed over me, and she said, “I’ve wanted to do this ever since I first laid eyes on you.” I met her strokes with urgency making Shuri take more control over me. Her other hand fondling my breast and nipple made me cry ecstatically. Her lips returned to the side of my neck, deepening the shade of marks she had already left. I didn’t think it was possible for her to get any deeper into my gushing pussy, but she proved me wrong. At this pace, my neighbours will no doubt know what happened. My screaming moans were insolent.

“Oh yeah, keep fucking me like that. I’m so close.”

I ground my pussy against her hand, riding the swell of euphoria that came over me. It only took a few more thrusts before I arched my back and stiffened under her command. Shuri buried her face in the curve of my neck, groaning quietly. “That’s it, baby. I got you”. The tightness in my abdomen slowly declined as Shuri whispered praises against my skin. My hips faltered from exhaustion.

Once I was settled and calmed my breathing, she slid her fingers into my mouth. I licked and sucked my cum off her two fingers until all I could taste was my saliva and arousal. “let me taste you.” Shuri removed her fingers from my mouth and replaced them with her tongue. Licking the remnants from my lips.

She pulled back to smile and brushed back my curls away from my forehead. “if we don’t move now, the pizza is going to get cold,” she said.

“I don’t think I have enough energy to stand up” my legs felt weak from trembling.

“Well, you have to eat something” Shuri smirked at her double innuendo, and I almost took her up for it before my stomach growled. Perfect timing. Shuri began to laugh even harder at the sound.

“Shut up,” I smiled. For the first time in what felt like forever, a person other than Riri had been able to make me laugh.

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nectardaddy · 4 months ago

Text

B.I.L.L.S , t. hanamaki

american hero. . . b.i.l.l.s. by towa bird

If I had a dollar then I wouldn't have to bother 'bout the bills. I'm so tired of paying rent.

pairing : hanamaki takahiro x f!reader

cw/notes : poverty/financial insecurity, conversation about/wishing for "what could be" (and a deep dive into the feeling of wanting), use of the pet name "sweetheart," humor as a coping mechanism, language, eating used as a metaphor, lots of metaphors in general, established long-term relationship, I am genuinely very proud of this fic so if you got tagged out of the blue that's why <3

word count : 2.6k

The apartment was dingy and run down, a muted tone of gray that submerged the entire cramped space into desolace. A desolace that bled into the other rooms, through the floorboards, through every nook and cranny of the compact unit - through the bones of the pair that inhabited it. Pictures and posters littered the drab walls. Old developed pictures and various music flyers stuck to drywall with bits and pieces of scotch tape - real frames were far too expensive - as they tried desperately to combat the dreary aura of the space.

But it was difficult to fight against such longing; around every corner being yet another issue that would only ever be resolved with the one thing the pair didn’t have: funds. Air conditioning that went out every other month, as the landlord was too stingy to really fix it and complained with every call and maintenance request about the issue. Mold in the air vents, water pressure that was just short of a small stream, a lock on the door that barely bolted with a small chain lock that was used as a "replacement" that didn't really do anything. It reeked of dust and mildew, a musty smell that lingered no matter how many candles were lit and blown out. And trial and error to shut the, horribly painted, bedroom room; over the months they learned to turn the knob and slam rather than just slam.

It was a constricted, at times uncomfortable; limited space meaning old cardboard boxes stayed within the living area or bedroom - mementos gathered dust that all but covered the unit entirely. Memories shoved in a box that would barely ever see the light of day, or simply, didn’t want to. Such a place didn’t deserve such warmth. A god forsaken space didn’t deserve the radiant coziness that came with trinkets and baubles, didn’t deserve the framed pictures - that would crash to the ground anyway, as the drywall often crumbled and fragmented - and surely didn’t deserve the mellow residents who resided in it.

Both home from work, and both exhausted beyond belief, they sat together on an old, thrifted loveseat. A gaudy flower pattern that was stained and smelled of cigarettes from the latter owners, but a place to sit nonetheless. The man shuffled through a slew of mail, the woman, with her eyes closed and trying not to fall asleep right then and there, sat next to him.

“I’m so fucking tired of paying this shit,” he grumbled before throwing the envelopes onto the rickety coffee table. A table that was discounted, dirt cheap, as one leg was cracked and wobbly. Oftentimes, it broke when too much weight was put on it, duct tape lined the connection between the leg and table itself. All it held was other envelopes - bills, an array of clipped coupons, and a long forgotten coffee cup, that’s rim was chipped and the handle cracked.

“Then don’t,” the woman hummed in response, a cheeky reply to a serious notion. An exhaustion riddled in her voice that made him look over and sigh, heart strings pulled taut at seeing her weary form. “We can run away together and never have to see this shit hole again.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, letting a pause settle between them. Allowed the sound of the fan in the far corner of the room to take over the silence he offered, the hum of it engulfed the room as it rotated to cool the entire apartment. “Maybe we should,” he sighed before a small smile pulled at his lips. “We can go off grid and everything, y’know they make shows about people that live like that, right? We could be famous.”

A breath of air passed through the woman’s nose as she chuckled, and she opened her eyes to look over at him. “You’re an idiot.” Even as she smiled at him, he couldn’t help but notice just how tired she looked. Her eyes were dark and hazy, unfocused even, as it seemed like all she wanted to do was close them again - to sleep. Her work uniform crumbled and wrinkled as she sat with her legs up on the small couch, too worn out to change upon coming, to what they reluctantly called, home.

Home, to them, was coming back at odd hours. Never fully holding each other as the other had to whisk themselves away - to provide, to work. Times were fleeting, just as much as the money that came in. Gone within a second and drained from responsibilities. Every second together was taken with an ironclad grip, and sewn together with cups upon cups of coffee just to try and enjoy it all.

“Where would you want to go if we had the money to leave?” The off kilter question left his lips easily, without much thought put behind it. Because to him, that's all he ever thought about - leaving. He hoped one day he was able to scrape up enough funds, pack everything up, and leave the cramped unit all together with her by his side.

“Anywhere, honestly, this place sucks ass.” She groaned as she stretched her legs off the loveseat. A series of pops from overworked limbs hit his ears and made him frown - she didn't deserve to be this tired, not for this piece of shit apartment. Not for anything.

“I’m serious.” His normal, almost whimsical, tone went with the wind as he sat up a little straighter. He looked over to her with red tinged eyes, fatigued and strained, that swirled with an unforeseen worry.

“So am I.” A curt reply as she locked eyes with him. A realist, maybe a bit pessimistic to some, but the woman grounded herself in reality more than he. Didn't want to waste herself away with thoughts of what could be than what is. What could be was a sham, a figment of imagination she couldn't bear herself to think about often; as the thought of what is yanked her to the very pits of longing that she would later have to tear herself out of.

“I know where I’d want to go.” A dream he hadn’t told her before, he wished he had the money to surprise her with it. But that day was far off in the distance, a mere glimmer of a memory, and he cracked under the pressure of wanting to share. At least this way, they could experience the dream together.

“Yeah? Where?” She closed her eyes again and let her head fall to his shoulder.

“I’d want to go to Tokyo.”

She snorted at the thought, “spare me, Hiro, not this shit again.” A half hearted joke that landed a bit on edge, toed the line of snappy through drowsy laced words. A former wish she had heard before from him, a joke to only go to Tokyo to get piss drunk with friends.

“No, not the bar hopping thing.” He assured and waved off the remark with a small chuckle.

“Good, because you do that shit with Mattsun here anyway. You don’t need to drag me to Tokyo just for me to babysit you two idiots there.” Babysitting, truly, was an understatement to the woman. The thought made her cringe as she recalled past memories of his dear friend passed out in their bathroom, head in the toilet and completely out cold.

“I want to take you to Ueno Park to see the cherry blossoms one day.” His voice was a twinge quieter than before, a bit breathless as he couldn’t believe himself for finally saying the dream aloud. Deep brown eyes shifted over to look at the woman, whose head still rested on his shoulder - completely silent.

The comment had her at a lack of words, letting another silence pass by them once more; but it lingered far too long. A silence that, as moments passed, began to have a weight to it and started to suffocate her. Every inhale became shallower than the last, and she couldn’t find it within herself to take a single breath more of the humid, musky air the apartment provided. She felt herself tumble into the gaping hole of wanting, needing, craving - pure, unbridled hunger for more than what is. A ravishing feeling that took her by the shoulders and shoved, falling head first into the empty, hollow feeling of what could be.

What could be was far from reality, what could be couldn’t happen.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked over at him, eyes a bit wider than before and lips parted through means to say something - nothing ever came. “You told me three years ago you wanted to do that.” Quiet words answered her unspoken question and she sucked in a breath. She remembered telling him that vividly, could recall the day to a tee as it held importance to her.

It rained that day, poured down onto the street as they ran back to their shared apartment - a better one than what they had now. Steps taken hastily, hand in hand, as he practically dragged her through the downpour with a laugh. Both forgot an umbrella, so they ran through the rain getting more and more soaked with every step. It wasn’t far from their unit, the pair only went down the street to a convenience store. But the storm they tried to outrun inevitability caught up with them, so the leisurely walk back home turned to a sprint.

Upon their return, they found themselves sprawled out on their bedroom floor. Their clothes drenched from rain and water puddled onto the hardwood underneath them. A silly action, to lay on the floor wet. But neither minded as they giggled and laughed with one another, enjoying the other’s company.

Strawberry blonde hair stuck to his forehead and he raked a hand through it. A chuckle left his lips from an earlier conversation before he looked over at her once more, “if you could go anywhere in the world, where would you want to go?”

“What kind of question is that, Hiro?” A teasing tone laced within her cadence as she locked eyes with him. Bright and hopeful, full of love, and not an ounce of exhaustion swirling within them.

“One that I’m curious about, obviously, so indulge me.” The whimsy in his words was easily apparent, one of which she got used to quickly. And there was a sass in the timbre of his voice that muddled with care, a juxtaposition to his usual standalone brassiness.

“What’s yours?”

“This isn’t about me, it’s about you.”

He watched the woman smile before she averted her eyes to the ceiling, scrunched her brows in thought a moment before she looked at him once more. “Probably Ueno Park, in April, to see the cherry blossoms.”

“Are you serious? Anywhere in the world, and you want Tokyo?” He never looked away from the woman throughout the conversation, and when she met his gaze once more he smiled.

“Did you ask just to make fun of me, asshole?”

“No, god no.” He laughed, lips pulling into a silly smile before he took her hand in his own. “I’m just trying to figure out where I should ask you to marry me one day.”

The inescapable feeling of want consumed her, leaving nothing left behind as she was swallowed whole. A swirling sensation in her stomach that sickened her, made her ill to think about too long as all she could do was stare at him. “Takahiro.” Her words fell to a whisper as eyes flickered between his own, desperately trying to gauge the situation but to no avail. “You can’t be serious?”

“As a heart attack, sweetheart.” The smile he had started to falter, and the concern that saturated her eyes made his heart sink. But through that concern, the smallest, most miniscule, glimmer of need shone through. Even through tired, bloodshot eyes and a tinge of cynicism, she wanted the dream just as much as he, if not more.

“Hanamaki,” she breathed. “Be real for a second-” But she was cut off as he turned to face her, the old loveseat squeaking under the shift of weight, and he took her hands in his own

“I am being real, so put that name away.” Erring on defensive, put a care behind it that she couldn't ignore. A rare seriousness in his voice that made her swallow hard. “I’m taking you to see those damn cherry blossoms at some point, and when I do I'm asking you to marry me.”

She opened her mouth to say something but promptly shut it, not knowing what to say to the man. But she felt as the ravenous feeling turned to a starved, almost primal, one. Felt her stomach twist into knots at the thought - she wanted to swallow the notion completely. Needed to feel the crunch and snap of it in her mouth, wanted her teeth caught in it, needed it to be consumed until nothing was left. She abstained from could be for too long and needed to devour the concept entirely.

But could be wasn’t what is. What is left a bruise, tender and raw, that left a rotten taste in her mouth. She felt the urge to spit out the thought as it circled within her mind like a vulture, ready to dive within a split second. “But-”

“We will, I swear.” He cut off her protest and squeezed her hand. But to no avail, as she only looked at him with a sense of apprehension.

“But we're-”

“I know, I know,” he sighed. Brown eyes slid over to the envelopes on the coffee table, bold red letters catching his attention that made him close his eyes. “Believe me, I know.” A disheartening belief that caused him to take a deep breath before opening his eyes again to look at her. He brought a hand to her cheek, pale fingers gently brushed over her skin with a warmth that was inviting, loving, and selfless. He gave her a small, out of sorts, smile, “but I want to do this. For you. For us. Hell, because we deserve to do something nice. I want us to have something to look forward to other than the same, shit ass, walls everyday.”

She paused a moment, let his words sink in, before she bit down hard on the concept and refused to let go. “Ok,” she nodded carefully. “Alright, we’ll go to Ueno Park one day.” Could be tasted sweet and savory, mouth watering to think about. It eased a craving that deflected from what is - so just this once, she let herself free fall into it. “Do you even have a ring to ask me with?”

His smile pulled into a grin at her question, and he chuckled. “Would you say yes to a ring pop?”

With a paltry laugh, she leaned into his hand that was still on his cheek. “As long as it's strawberry, then absolutely, you dumbass.”

“Strawberry it is, sweetheart.”

However, he didn’t really need the sweet, confectionary ring. In one of the many old cardboard boxes within the living area and bedroom that collected dust - a particularly well kept, small box hidden in the back of their tiny, shared closet - was a ring he bought three years ago. Bought shortly after the conversation was had, when he still had the money to stretch. Stuffed between memories that would barely ever see the light of day, because a place like this didn't deserve such warmth.

But the warmth was willingly given anyway, whether the pair knew it or not.

series taglist (open, send an ASK) + a few moots bc I am genuinely very very very proud of this

@causenessus @softpia @renardiererin @kodzu-ken @phoenix-eclipses

@wyrcan @honeekyuu @wakashudou @wolffmaiden @eggyrocks

@dailyakira @cupidsblonde @mollyrolls @wolffmaiden @zumicho

@jadeoru @sandwhitches

#divider by @/bunnysrph #series: american hero #hq x reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #hanamaki takahiro #takahiro hanamaki #hanamaki takahiro x reader #takahiro hanamaki x reader #makki x reader #hq makki #hanamaki x reader

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lucerocosplay · 1 year ago

Text

Shohki Mask Cover

construction notes & photos under the cut

This has been a long time coming! I'm glad she's a costume I can work a mask into without it breaking the design of the character. I feel like people would be less inclined to ask that you remove it for photos this way ^^;

I went with a very thin cotton gauze fabric (#9 "coffee" if you're wondering), think a slightly thicker cheese cloth. It's very breathable as a single layer and seemed the best choice for an N95 cover. The shape was really only achievable with this fabric because of the shape of my mask underneath, and some strategically placed 1/2" wide horsehair braid tubing from the dollar tree. I usually stock up around halloween but they stock around christmas too!

Process is very straight forward, just traced my mask on the fold and made some rough adjustments for a card stock mock up. I like 90-110 lbs for this sort of thing but construction paper can work in a pinch too. Cut that out and fit to my face, tweaked the placement on the nose bridge and added a 1/4" allowance for bias tape/facing, and appropriate allowance for flat felled seams.

The ear tab was extended to cover the mask underneath, and included allowance for support fabric (denim scrap in my case) to support two eyelets intended to thread the elastic of my mask through. Then it was just patterning out the rest of the mask elements and making note of seam allowance and how to cut each piece. I trimmed the tape holding together the card stock mask apart and finally got to cutting out the fabric once that was done.

There isn't anything fancy going on, the hardest part was just the inset mesh panel over the weirdly shaped keyhole cut outs on the mouth piece. It's just black nylon mesh typically used for interfacing bras sewn on after making the keyholes.

This fabric is like if toilet paper were a textile, which is great for breatheability and weight but absolutely hell for machine work like this. It's not for a competition so for me, hiding messy stitching with weathering later was ok.

The portion of the mask running from the underside of each ear tab was finished with homemade bias tape. The same method was used for finishing the top portion that runs over the bridge of my nose. The ends were simply folded and sewn down at the ear tabs for a clean finish.

The side "filters" have an extra 1/2" long extension so I can tack in the ends of some horse hair tubing, then double fold the fabric back into itself before hand tacking with tiny stitches from the outside. That helps the light fabric balloon out into that shape, along with another layer of that same mesh interfacing.

They are really fun actually, very floppy with great movement. Though they stick out a tad too much so I did add one small french tack to the center of each to help them point downwards but retain that movement. The "filter" took the most hand finishing out of the whole thing, but that was to be expected.

Once the little side "filters" were sewn in, there was just light weathering to do. I wanted to add some shadows and potential "mold spores" to certain areas to really make the texture pop and hide some messy stitching. Light passes with a dry brush and some acrylic helped a lot, so did referencing photos of mold growth on clothes.

It was a pass of burnt sienna along all seams and large patches where high humidity would accumulate. Then another lighter pass of burnt umber to deepen up areas, and some very sparse areas of white. Finally I wanted to give it the "blue cheese special" and mixed a little viridian green and that same white and hit the white areas first then dry brushed the spaces between mold patches. I'm trying to replicate active mold colonies so reference photos came in handy here. I also used some nail polish to match the grommets to fabric.

Maybe when I am not crunched for time I will get around to digitizing the pattern, but for now I hope the photos help anyone else trying to plan out a mask. Obviously the shape will change a lot depending on the sort of fabric and mask you have on under it, not to mention face shape. I would imagine bifolds would give you more her classic feed bag profile than an origami style mask, however.

#my cosplay #cosplay wip #nausicaa #nausicaa of the valley of the wind #ghibli cosplay

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missfrustration · 1 month ago

Text

strictly curse dispelling (reigen arataka x fem!reader) 18+

Rating: explicit 18+, minors do not interact!

A/n: This is part 2 of my "messin' with a psychic" series. I posted this on ao3 one year ago, I just wanted to crosspost here! enjoy.

tags: porn with plot!!, a lot of plot, smut, vaginal sex, oral sex, second time, hook-up, relaxing massages, improper use of massage tables, light dom/sub, light choking, no condom, doggy style, office sex, suits, scratching, semi-public sex, no use of y/n

word count: 8.7k (too long)

Your cup of coffee falls to the floor as you stare in shock at the office before you.

You pull out your wallet inside your bag and fumble inside until you find one janky card in particular. You yank it out, holding the card to the company sign. As you suspected, the card’s company name is the same as the logo on the office door.

How could Spirits and Such Consultation be here, not just in the same district, but within a few blocks away from your work without you noticing? You will admit this is the first time since you have been to this side of the area, getting coffee with your friends after work on the floor above, but has it been so far away from your typical commute that you would’ve just discovered it?

You find yourself standing face to face with the entrance, hand hovering over the wooden door with a closed fist. Before questioning if you should be doing this, you instinctively knock on the door with little confidence.

You don’t hear anything on the other side for a moment. Glancing at your watch, you read 6:49 pm, past regular office hours. Man, what the hell am I doing? You feel rather stupid for even coming to the office; it’s way too late in the day for someone to answer, much less-

While deep in thought, a young boy who has cracked open the door before you snaps you into reality. He stared back at you with relatively calm, kind eyes, dressed in a middle school uniform with a prominent bowl cut.

“Hello, did you have an appointment with us?” The boy gently asked, looking up with a soft smile through the cracked doorway.

“Oh, ah-no. Sorry, I don’t. I wasn’t planning on… well, it is a little late; maybe I’ll come by another time.” You rub the back of your head and give him a convincing smile as you talk. As you are about to thank him and leave, you hear a voice from inside.

“It’s okay, Mob. You can let them in. I have time today for one more person.” It’s that familiar voice you weren’t hoping to hear now. Your stomach flutters as you realize who you’re about to walk in on.

“Okay,” The boy, now known as Mob, replies to the voice. He turns to you, “Come in, miss. Master Reigen can see you now. Please sit down, and I can make some tea,” He fully opens the door and gestures for you to enter. Without much choice, you kindly nod to the boy and step in.

You freeze as you see Reigen from across the room. He is at his desk looking intently at his computer, one takoyaki between his greasy, sauce-covered fingers as one slightly peeks out of his mouth. He clicks his mouse and snarfs down the food in his mouth before speaking.

“We are typically closed at this time, but I’m glad to stay later for a new client! So, what can I do for you today, Miss- ah!” As soon as he meets eyes with you, he squeaks in surprise and slightly jumps in his seat with eyes agape. His startled demeanor caused the takoyaki in his hand to splat onto the desk and some crumbs to dribble out of his mouth. He shows no signs of hiding it as he stares at you in shock, squeaking your name as if to prove you're there. It gives you the same vibes as a rodent caught in the act of stealing food. Like a rat. What a coincidence.

“Long time, Mr. Psychic.” You quip, hands clasped.

Reigen doesn’t respond, only to close his mouth and stare at you. You squirm under his gaze without words before the middle schooler pipes up.

“Master, do you know this person?”

“Ah! Mob, yes, yes. I do,” He quickly stands up and stuffs his takoyaki in his desk at lightning-fast speed, brushing any crumbs off of that exact grey suit you’ve seen him in before. That desk has seen better days, You think. He scrambles to turn towards you, finally cleaning up his act for that all-too-familiar suave businessman. “Hello there, what brought you to Spirits and Such Consultation today?” He clasps his hands together and looks at you professionally. Still, the way he swivels around his chair tells you he’s more affected by seeing you than he’s letting on.

Heh, what a change of character. “I was around the area and saw your building. I guess I wanted to say hi?”

“Oh, I see. Well, this is clearly a surprise. It is nice to see you… To be honest, I didn’t ever expect you to visit.” His sentence ends with a tinge of sadness.

“Is that so?” You quip. You are unsure how you want to keep this conversation rolling. You let it go for now and shrug off the comment, “Me neither, honestly.”

There is an awkward silence, one you want to break desperately but can’t find the words to do so, secretly wanting something to change the palpable air.

“Well, let me make some tea,” Mob says, almost on cue, making his way to the kettle. Reigen quickly pipes up, stopping Mob in his tracks.

He gestures at the time on the clock overhead. “Wait, Mob, it’s late. You should get on home. I’ll-uh, handle this client on my own.” Reigen gestures a subtle ‘shoo’ motion at Mob with a grin and furrowed brow.

“Master, what about my pay for this week?” Mob asks. Reigen quickly responds, brushing aside Mob’s request.

“You can get it tomorrow! Tomorrow, for sure, just not now.”

Mob pauses, looking at Reigen with a somewhat disappointed expression. “But you said the same thing yesterday. Is there a reason why?”

“Hey now, I’ll make it up with ramen next time. I promise!” He waves his hand back and forth, brushing off the notion that he shouldn’t need to pay what you assume to be an employee of his, albeit a young one. You squint your eyes at him. Is he… standing up a kid from his wage?

“Oh… okay,” Mob softly replies, his look of defeat tugs a heartstring in you. Turning towards you, he bows and smiles, “Have a good day, miss.” With that, Mob briefly makes his way out after getting his book bag, shutting the door behind him. The clasp of the door handles rings in the air, leaving you alone with Reigen in his office.

You immediately turn towards Reigen, raising your eyebrow in confusion. Why does a kid like Mob, who seems so kind and innocent, find himself potentially working under a greaseball that won't pay him? From your point of view, he seems too polite to be working for the shady-looking company.

“Uh, well,” Reigen clears the stagnant air, “Would you care to sit? Over there, I mean.” He gets up from his desk, ushering you to the comfy-looking chairs at the corner of the room.

You cross your arms as you reluctantly oblige, sitting at one chair as he slowly sits down on the other. You should’ve taken your time sitting down as slowly as he has; the not-so-sudden impact of sitting hurts your tailbone because of how stiff the cushioned chair is. You rub your backside.

“You’re many things, Reigen, but I didn’t think you would flake your workers out of a wage.” You say.

He looked taken back by your words, holding a hand up to his chest as he gawked in offense. “Hey, Mob is a good kid! He understands that desperate times can call for desperate measures.” He chuckles unconvincingly, shifting his feet, which sinks your gaze onto the table.

“This is a desperate time? You really don’t seem swarmed with customers right now.”

There is a glossy laminate paper planted alone on the circular foot table. The once-colored article seems faded after years of use, and the different paragraphs of text detail what you assume are his standard services. The plywood table between you, too, could dent if you kick it with your leg. You wonder if this furniture is second-hand or if Reigen went out of his way to buy the most unpleasant things just to save a buck. You’re in the mood to thoroughly unsettle him now, having clearly examined his office before him. Like clockwork, a slight clamminess forms on Reigen’s forehead before he replies.

“You might not believe it, but this office contained an entire baseball team asking for my help right before you arrived! They claimed a spirit was haunting their equipment, causing their scores to tank halfway through the season! That’s why Mob and I have stuck around the office after hours. Extra paperwork started to pile up throughout the day that wasn’t addressed until the end of our consultation. Of course, a case like that was easily handled by this century’s most excellent psychic.” Reigen ends his little charade and speech, looking quite proud of himself.

You shake it off, changing the topic. “Speaking of Mob, why do you have such a nice kid working for you? I believe there are more suitable people in Seasoning City that can help you with whatever this is,” you gesture more to the cheap furniture than the actual services. Still, Reigen overlooks that–actually, he doesn’t notice.

“Ah yes, that was my disciple, Mob. The one I told you about that, uh, night?” Reigen unconvincingly remarks. You shift in your seat and blink wildly at the mention of that word again.

Disciple.

You shift around in your chair under his gaze, crossing your legs and arms. “Oh wow. I guess I must’ve really misunderstood the situation that night.” Reigen looks at you in confusion. You explain yourself further, “I was under the assumption that I was just some quick bang for you. I initially called bullshit on your disciple story you used as an excuse to leave right after we… well, and I have thought that way since now. To be frank, that’s the reason why I never called back. I'm sorry about that.”

Reigen listened to you intently, nodding along, obviously processing your side of the story. When you finish, he sighs and waves his hand around. “No, no need to say sorry. In fact, I should apologize to you. I did need to leave on such short notice, but I didn’t tell you until the last minute, which made things feel off when I left. The morning of, I had to look after the kid on his school’s sports day. But I figured, from your point of view, it was pretty pathetic. Look, I can make it up to you right now, in fact! If you don’t mind me taking up your time, that is?”

“I find that hard to believe you can make it up to me considering my first impressions of your treatment of employees, as well as this cheap-ass furniture.”

“Okay, harsh.” Reigen clears his throat. “I swear! I’m dedicated to making this right. I can name a price, too!”

“Price? What are you leading onto, psychic?”

“I can serve up one of my world-class massage- ahem, curse dispelling services! It completely rids the body of all the pain that nasty spirits can cause.”

“Curse dispelling? That sounds interesting, but I don’t believe anything is haunting me,” You don’t think anything can haunt someone, to be honest.

“You’d be surprised how many people get plagued with these violent spirits. I tell you, if I wasn’t here serving the people, it would’ve become the #1 epidemic in Japan!” He leans forward and grabs your arm, gently rocking it back and forth to your confusion. He pauses, “Hmm, I see. You’re lucky. The hold it has on you is gentle but can worsen at any moment! Have no fear. I can discount this curse dispelling for… about 50% off if you’d like.” He kicks his feet up on the table, albeit very gently, clearly proud of his overly kind discount.

You look into his eyes. “Reigen.” You started. “Not just 50% for the shit you pulled. It’ll take a lot more than that to forgive you. Especially if I think this quality of service isn't worth the money considering the cheap yard sale finds.” You motion to your chair, shaking back and forth, only to reveal to both of you that the legs wobble too hard.

“Jeez, fine! It’s on the house. Besides, I owe you one, so consider my debt officially relieved?” Reigen winced at your stoic gaze, trying to do as much damage control as needed to solve this issue.

You sigh, really wondering if this is a good idea. You sigh in defeat, “I’ll bite. This better be worth it after all the buttering up you’ve been doing on this.”

He smirks at you and leans forward, “Of course it will! After all, I am the greatest psychic this century has ever seen. You won’t regret it; we can set you all up inside the curse-dispelling sanctuary now.”

Sanctuary?

He leads you to a door by the desk at the corner of the small office you didn’t notice until now. Even looking inside after Reigen opens the door for you, you can scarcely see the amount of space there is.

It's a tiny room, tinier than you would think. A shiny leather massage table is in the middle—if you can even assign areas to such a little room. There are small wall shelves and large clothed drawers with different incense burners, oils, and other massage tools.

With all this stuff, you can guess that Reigen cannot move freely while he works on clients.

You gesture to the confines. “This is literally a room the size of my closet. What do you expect to do here?

“Y’know, that’s a little rude. You don’t know, but spirits are typically scared of tiny rooms. Really, there just isn’t enough room to breathe for the guys! It helps get rid of them faster and ease my clients’ pain more quickly.

“Spirits can… breathe?”

He looks at you attentively, snapping his hands around a few times before conjuring up his remark. “Hah! Well, I suppose I could get into it, but I don’t want to hinder you with my vast knowledge of the inner workings of spirits. Why don’t we get started instead, yeah?” He fidgets around for the items he needs and turns around. “Well then, I will need you to get undressed for me. Okay?”

“Oh, sure thing.” A shiver runs down your spine as you turn to look at him. You can tell in his eyes he just means undressing for the massage, but you would be lying if you said your face didn’t feel warm for the possible double meaning.

“If you can undress once I leave the sanctuary and put these towels on the regions you are comfortable covering, we can start with the first part of the ritual.”

Before you can say anything, he quickly skips outside the room and closes the door.

Upon closer inspection, the clothed drawers are filing cabinets with tablecloths hung over them. You can tell they are filing cabinets due to the metal handles of each drawer clearly poking out from the thin cloth. Regardless, they are way too tall to be regular furniture. What a relaxing choice.

The towels he gave you are scratchy and cheap feeling. Reigen’s clients are put through the wringer.

You position yourself on the massage table face down, waiting for Reigen to enter. After a few moments, you hear a gentle knock on the door.

“Oi, I’m coming in. You decent?” You invite him in, and he slowly opens the door. Although you can’t see him, you notice the slight pause in the creak of the door when he sets his eyes on your naked body.

“Did you… forget I gave you towels?”

“I did immediately after feeling them. You should get better ones.”

“Noted.”

He fully steps in and shuts the door swiftly, briefly shuffling around the room and opening drawers around you.

With that, Reigen begins his ‘ritual,’ dosing the room in bright, lovely scents of incense and methodically lighting some candles around the room on drawers and shelves. The LED lights above you dim, but the candles adorning the room's edges and shelves keep it light enough to see. It’s almost romantic with how he’s set it up—is what you’re enticed to say if it wasn’t Reigen.

He begins the first step, what he calls prepping the skin. He reaches into a small box filled with freshly steamed washcloths and takes a few off the top row. Coming to your side, he gently rings out the cloth. He unfolds it before placing the washcloth on your skin, which he explains will free your skin of dirt or grime before continuing. The warmth of the steamed towel against you feels comforting; even the quality of the washcloth is better than the other ones.

“While I do this, are there any particular muscle groups that tend to bother you throughout the day?”

“Yeah, my shoulders and hamstrings are typically the most sore. Pretty much on the daily. It's annoying.”

“Say no more. I have just the thing.”

He walks to the other side of the room outside your vision, and you hear shifts of different fabrics. You wonder what he’s up to but are positive you'll find out soon enough. He comes back to your side.

“This will be hot, just to warn you. I will put these on the areas you said you struggle with most.

When you consent, you feel thick, hot pads press against both shoulders, followed by some weighted hot pads on the back of your legs right under your butt. The sensation is dazzling.

“Ahhhh…” You sigh in pleasure at the sensation.

“Heh, feels nice, right?

“Yes.” You languidly sigh. You let your approval linger out of your mouth as you completely relax on the table. You can feel the aching soreness of your legs and shoulders slowly melt away from the pads.

The washcloths and hot pads are removed from your skin, leaving your body feeling chilled from the air yet relaxed enough not to care.

You hear the sounds of oily fluid as Reigen gently rocks a bottle of oil in his hand. It's the perfect temperature when you feel a liberal line of oil pour down your back and legs. Reigen puts the bottle down and spreads the amount evenly down the skin. He moves to your legs next, gently applying the liquid from the skin right under your ass to the hinge of your leg.

Then, Reigen begins his massage. His hands connect to your shoulders as he starts to work his magic.

His hands palm into your shoulders, rubbing with varying levels of force to slowly break down the tension that has built over the years. He starts with a slow pace that gently travels down each muscle of your back and up. From the shoulders to the laterals, to the spine, the fatigue of each knot looses up.

“Man, you should do this to my whole body.”

“Woah, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This is a free service, after all. I’m concentrating on the most cursed parts today.”

He leads into a staccato of firm tapping next, traveling up and down the length of your back with vigor. He uses the sides of his hands in a hacking motion in rapid percussion. Your body gently shakes to and fro from the technique.

From there, he focuses on specific muscles again with his thumbs applying the pressure. On each area, he rubs both sides with his thumbs in a sweeping motion, bringing the skin together vertically before firmly spreading them out. You groan into each touch.

You can now fully say you know what those hands do. They do wonders.

More than that, though. You begin to wonder about other places Reigen could massage.

Almost on queue, the psychic’s hands then travel to the fat of your thighs, gently kneading them from the hinge to the hamstring, catering your lower body muscles to a personalized experience. Reigen’s thumbs travel right under the fat of your ass to massage before pausing.

“Oh, man. Your pectineus muscles are really tight. No wonder your thighs ache—I mean, the spirits have really been eating you up!”

“Is that what it is?”

“Really, though, this needs to be addressed.”

He begins doing the same steps he did with your back muscles to the precise spots he needs to loosen right under your ass. Just as in the last areas, the tension release of your muscles feels phenomenal. The hot pads have already relieved enough, but his hand movements solidify that you’ll walk away feeling pure refreshment.

His hands start moving outside your pectineus muscles now until he finds one specific spot he cannot ignore.

“Hold on. Your adductors are worse than the rest! What did you even do to make them this bad?”

“Well, I do have a desk job.”

Reigen turns on his heel and walks over to your face, squatting down and matching your eye level.

“This is unheard of at Spirits and Such. You have the worst kind of spirit affecting you!” He starts waving hand motions faster than Mach-5, stopping with his pointer finger lifted toward you. “You have an adductor spirit.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard today!”

“Hey, now! This subject is serious and certainly must be treated. Don’t worry. As a psychic, I can rid you of any spirits for good until you need to come back for more, which includes a 20% discount!”

“Yeah, yeah. I getcha. Do what you need to.”

“With pleasure,” He promptly stands back up. He turned back to his target before meekly placing his hand back on the inside of your thigh.

“To complete this procedure… I need you to spread your legs for me.”

“Oh, okay.” Heat fills your face, but you do your best not to outwardly express how his words got to you. Slowly, you do what you’re told.

Without a beat, he leans forward to massage your inner thigh, dragging his fingers from the area down to your knee before lifting his fingers and repeating the process. He begins his massage technique with his thumbs to add more pressure, dragging downward to reach the skin behind your knee.

He slowly drags your skin one more time before stopping, gently putting his thumbs back on the muscle instead moving upwards to your butt. More importantly, your now aching cunt.

You squeak a little when you feel his direction change, overcome with embarrassment when Reigen's hands are slightly taken aback by your noise.

“Are you okay?” He says, leaning over to peer at your covered face.

The surprise of his movements was alluring to you that you didn’t feel right to keep your thoughts in anymore.

You just need him.

“Please, put your mouth on it.” You whisper to him.

There is silence in the air, the thought of what will come dancing in your head like a never-ending routine. He removes his hands from your skin.

“This is a massage, remember? Why would I use my mouth… if massages require hands?”

You get up and fully face Reigen, who looks back at you bewildered and mere inches away. You genuinely couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. There is no fucking way he would be serious, right?

Something clicks, however. “Holy shit.” You think out loud, putting the pieces together.

You turn your head to him, mouth agape, staring at this blonde-haired rat. You see it now: Reigen has been in work mode this whole time. He tilts his head in confusion and leans forward. “What’s up? Is there something you want to tell me?”

“I cannot believe you… you know what?”

“What?”

Instead of using words to tell him what you mean, you sit up, reach for his tie, and pull him towards you. His lips crash against yours. His eyes stay wide open momentarily as he registers what is happening before swiftly returning the kiss.

It’s heavy and hot from your end. You muster all the courage to not rip his clothes off now. Still, you refrain, eventually letting his tie go and pulling away, “You understand now, right?” You ask in slight annoyance, feeling a little embarrassed at your behavior. Your blatant skin exposure right in front of Reigen certainly is not helping.

The dots begin to connect as Reigen further peers onto your shocked face, his demeanor suddenly freezing as he suddenly releases his hand from your skin and opens his mouth in a perfect O. Stunned, his eyes widen in surprise as he processes what just happened–and what it means . Reigen breaks into a teasing smile, his surprise quickly turning into amusement.

"Well, that's certainly a way to make a point."

He looks down at your naked body, realizing who is before him and where he has seen this body before. More importantly, how your body made him feel before. How the supple skin felt in his hands touched the same as before. How you fit into him that night. The angelic sounds and things you whispered to him on that night. As his mind wanders, the blood used to power his ever-working thoughts travels straight to his pants. His face contorted in lust, breaking the pause he inevitably created.

"Is this your new negotiation tactic? Because I have to admit, it's effective. But it would’ve been as good if you had told me.” Reigen glistens.

“Have we been in the same room all this time? I literally told you to put your mouth on me. What could be more obvious?”

He puts his hand on his chin and thinks for a moment. “Touche.” He admits. “But hey, it’s not you or anything! Honestly, I think you’re the one person to snap me out of it like this…”

“What, your work mode?”

“Exactly.” He agrees. He pauses, slowly amping the atmosphere with solid gazes across your figure. “You really know how to bring out the naughty side of me, don’t you?”

Your cheeks flush as they meet Reigen's gaze, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as he slowly glides his fingers up and down your skin. With a glint of mischief, you reply, "And you have no idea how much I enjoy seeing that side of you. I’m sure not many have seen it.”

Reigen scoffs at the fact you insinuate that he gets no maidens. “Why don’t we continue?” Reigen asks, leaning into your ear and whispering, “Can I-” Reigen pauses momentarily to clear his throat after a slight voice crack. Music to your ears. “Can I touch you?” He asks.

“Um, you’ve been touching me.”

“Well, you know what I mean!” Reigen huffs, waving his hands around, trying to brush your teases off.

You roll your eyes playfully, inviting the man before you, “Yes, Reigen, of course you can touch me.” You find his need to ask for permission endearing, especially since you know that anything he could ask of you, you’d probably do. You look back at him when you realize the slight embarrassment on his face as he looks back at you with a pursed lip.

“It’s cute when you get annoyed.” You comment, only making him shake his head and turn away. He sighs in an overdramatic fashion and collects himself. Only a blush and smug attitude is left.

The massage continues again, this time with a more seductive tension in the air, as well as a focused massage to your buttocks and thighs. You sigh in delight, feeling your pleasure form differently.

“You are way too good at this.” You say as softly as your throat can coax out.

“And you…” He sighs, “You sound beautiful,” He glides his hand up to your inner thigh, “You know that?”

You blush, completely hiding your face in your arms, ignoring his comment.

“Oh? Did you not hear me?” He says.

“You’re too… ah!” Your back arches up from the contact of his hand smacking your ass. You bite your lip and squirm your legs as you whine in protest.

“Dunno if you heard it the first time, but you look amazing. I’ve always thought that, y’know,” He blows out another long-paced sigh. “The good thing is I don’t have to imagine you again; after all, you’re right here, ready for me, huh?” His fingers sweep up your pussylips, earning a moan from you in response.

“Stop buttering me up when you know I’m already…”

“Already, what? Hmmm?”

“I need you, Reigen.”

You look up at him to see he’s looking down at you with a smirk. “Say no more.” He whispers with a teasing grin. Reigen already knew what you’d say from the start.

“I won’t if you keep up that attitude, idiot.”

“Tough talk for someone naked and vulnerable.” He delivers you another light slap, causing your feet to kick up. Reigen stifles a laugh.

He leans over your frame. Slowly soaking up the sight before him. He leans down to your ear, slow enough to keep your mind spinning, and sighs onto the skin of your nape.

“Y’know, you’re pretty relentless.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that, psychic?”

“See, I’m trying to be all sexy AND consensual, and you just don’t give.” Reigen smacks your ass when he says this, earning a guttural gasp out of you. “I mean, what can a fella do to get some respect around here?”

“I think fucking me can be a good start.”

“After all I’ve done for you? You might have to ask me nicely if you want me to consider it.” Reigen's voice tilts in a taunting tone, almost egging you on.

Your pride wants to keep you from giving him what he wants. But you really like him, and there’s something else in mind that could keep the ball rolling while wiping that demeaning smirk off his face.

You spring into action, leaping off the table and kneeling before a now-surprised Reigen. You are met with a prominent bulge in his pants. You feel him tense up as he steps back, pushing him from the table to the wall. Suddenly, you palm his erection to earn an ethereal groan from the blonde.

“You treated me with head last time. Why don’t I return the favor now?”

“I mean, I’m not complaining.” Reigen tries to collect himself, rolling his eyes with a faux smile that screams, ‘I’m too cool to be this worked up over you.’ He shrugs, giving in to your wishes.

Immediately, his suave words devolve into periodic sighs as you slowly work on freeing his erection. You shimmy him out of his belt and suit pants and pull down his boxers enough for his dick to jump out and land on your forehead. Reigen snorts and covers his mouth.

“How’s the view, princess?”

“Just fine, actually, thank you.” Be it pride or annoyance at rat boy, you immediately stuff his cock into the gummy confines of your throat.

Reigen huffs into his mouth, trying to play it off as a yawn but quickly realizing both of you know what it is.

You bob up and down his dick, using your tongue and the roof of your mouth to create divine pressure on the shaft as you suck hard at the end before jamming the rest back in your mouth.

“Wow. You look really good doing that.” Reigen has a dark blush dusted on his face as he covers his mouth. You look up at him and plunge himself deeper down your throat, eyes seductive.

You take your hand that doesn’t aid in pumping Reigen's member and start to caress his balls. His hands jerk around from this, immediately resting a hand on your head to play with your hair and guide your pace.

His hand is gentle, but you can tell he’s holding back the pressure he wants. You slide his head out of your mouth, creating a delicious pop from its exit.

Before you can say anything, he pipes up, “Shit, I overstepped. I don’t have to move your head if you don’t want me to.”

Your face heats up from the words of a gentleman despite wishing for the complete opposite.

“Actually, I wanted you to do more. You don’t have to hold back. I like it.”

Reigen blinks at you, barely believing your words. He feels like he’s lucked out on you. “Man. Well, if you say so.”

He grabs a handful of your hair and guides you back to the post you desperately crave.

His grip on you has you moaning into the touch, a perk that he cannot deny he likes. You want more now, and you can’t back down.

You ready yourself for his member before quickly stuffing your throat once more. You feel the hard tip protruding into the depths of your throat, trying not to gag at the sheer length in fear this is the best way to take him. Slowly, you accept the last couple inches of him in your mouth until your nose is scrunched up to his stomach, kissing the hint of a happy trail.

You bob back up all the way just until Reigens cock is about to fall from your mouth until you stuff it all again, relaxing your throat as best you can to retake him.

Then again, and again, and again.

You develop a steady pace of gulping Reigen’s entire shaft until you feel a second hand, this time reluctantly pumping the brakes on your relentless pace. You look up at the man before you in an almost innocent confusion.

“Those eyes, I can’t take you anymore.” He groans into your touch moments before gently pulling your hair to release himself from your mouth.

“I can close them then.” You say, closing your eyes without a beat and a smile.

“No-hah, I’m gonna need a time-out. You are way too good at that. I don’t want to tap out early for you.” He dramatically sinks to the floor with the wobble of his knees and lowers himself to your level with both hands on your shoulders. He leans on you, catching his breath and sweating freely. You swipe some off of his forehead.

“I’m game for either. As long as I can repay the care you used on me.” To stop him from answering your rather heartfelt sentiment, you lean him back up to kiss him. His tongue swirls with yours, indirectly tasting himself.

After catching his breath, he breaks the kiss, leans forward to meet your height, and whispers in your ear, “If you don’t mind, why not bend over this time? There's a pretty sturdy massage table behind you, in case you didn't notice.”

“Wow, I’m somehow surprised it’s sturdy. The other furniture in this place seems to be deteriorating on the spot.”

His mouth forms an irritated smirk for the comment. “Are you trying to stop me from fucking you or not? Seems like a no to me right now with that attitude.”

You ignore his comment, knocking on the legs of the massage table. “Yeah, it probably wouldn’t break it, to be honest. Seems like real wood under here.”

“Shit, I got some wood now.” You turn to Reigen, discovering the now aching cock. “I wonder who will give first.”

”And the man has jokes. Bad ones at that.”

He looks up to see the cringe you have on your face. He sighs, “Jeez, tough crowd.”

“Even tougher to leave you hanging.” You touch his erect penis, now trembling with the stimulation from earlier and beads of precum. You lean into him, “Why don’t we change that?”

You pump him a few times, to his relief, before separating and bringing him back to the table. He taps your hips and bows, hand gesturing towards the table. “After you, then.”

You reach the table, feeling a flat hand on your back as Reigen helps you bend over, revealing your damp pussy to him that glistens from the candlelight. He leans into your hips, curling his fingers into the curve of your pelvic bone, rubbing his thumbs against the soft skin, and readying himself for an entrance.

“Can I?” Reigen whispers in your ear.

”Yes. Please, Reigen.”

“I know it will fit already,” He uses his fingers to swipe up and down your slit painfully slow, collecting some of the wetness of your cunt before spitting in his hand and pumping the liquids on himself. He taps himself on the small of your back as if knocking at an entrance before opening it. “I’m just surprised that it can in the first place.”

“Cut me some slack. I’m not that fragile.”

“Of course not. Just,” Reigen applies pressure to the head of his cock to your entrance. “You’re fucking tight.”

Instantly, your entrance succumbs to the pressure, welcoming his tip inside and enveloping him. You sigh together in harmony as he slowly inches into you, stretching yourself out to perfectly accommodate him.

You arch yourself into him from the mouthwatering sensations before you feel his hand once more press onto your back and guide you back onto the table.

“I thought we wanted you to bend over.” His finger taps on the skin of your back, playfully reminding you to say still for him.

“That’s hard to do when you, hahhh,” He slides more of his cock inside of you, which you can’t help but whimper from.

“Hah, shit. And still so good. All for me?”

“Of course… just take it already.” The words sound embarrassing coming out of your mouth, your face growing hot as the words emerge from your lips. Reigen seems to notice this and kisses you for validation. For potential psychic he can really read the room like one.

“Don’t mind if I do.” He says with a strained voice and cheeky grin. No matter how much he tries to feign a laid-back attitude in front of you, you can quickly tell Reigen Arataka is going crazy for your pussy.

“I’ve waited for this, after all.” Reigen adds, kissing down your back before moving again.

You moan in response as he slowly rocks his hips into you, fully stretching every crevice he can touch.

The table is sturdy under you, your tits and stomach pressed firmly against the leather that cements you to the position, unable to move and only able to take his cock entirely.

He pushes into you to a hilt, not a moment until he begins his slow descent out. The blissful pain of him filling you up is taken away as he pulls back out, only having you beg for more of his touch. You don’t vocalize it, however, as the emptiness of him pulling out is suddenly replaced with him sliding back in. You can’t help but bend over entirely over the table. The way you’re positioned, your toes are barely touching the floor.

He begins a steady pace of rocking back and forth, grabbing onto your hips for constant support.

“The view is great, by the way.” Reigen gives a sigh that defines long and sensual, using his thumb to lightly brush the thickness of your ass.

“Shut up. Hah.” You can’t help but whine as he steadily rocks deeper into your cunt.

“No way,” He whistles, “Not when you’re under me like this.”

His pace quickens, causing your ass to arch into him; gradually, the sensual air is replaced with hot noises and pants from both of you.

From you, the never-ending symphony of stifled moans and sighs and the melody of his name exiting your tongue. With the roll of his hips that hit just right, it’s enough to steal curses from your mouth as you try to keep your voice down.

From him, the sweat drops dripping off his forehead and landing not so gracefully onto you, the sound of his hands gripping the oiled skin of your hips, sometimes slipping away from the lack of friction, making squelching sounds from your oil and his sweat. He is so thankful that your back is already so oily from the massage that you haven’t noticed his sweaty palms.

Nothing between you two, however, is louder than the melding of your sexes dripping together and making as one, creating that oh-so-delicious feeling both of you chase. It comes and flows like a glorious tidal wave that you ride together. Helping each other reach that point is the goal now.

You feel yourself teeter over the edge, moaning now past a limit you can’t control. You let yourself go, now being louder than before.

“That feels so good. Fuck!”

His hands reach out from behind you and clamp over your mouth, trying to quiet you down, accidentally burying his cock even more, causing you to scream in his grasp.

“Jeez, you’re loud!” Reigen says between huffs. “Hah, you’re gonna let all my office neighbors know what we’re doing. Shit.”

Suddenly, his nails rake down your back as he rams into you in deep strokes, the sensations causing your pussy to grip and create heinous squelching sounds that connect your sexes together.

“Please,” You slur helplessly, “Please do that again–ngh. That feels so fucking good.”

“What a dirty girl. Only if you quiet down.”

“I will, please. Mm, please.”

A relentless hand snakes to the nape of your neck as nails latch on, slowly and painfully descending down your glistening skin. You can’t help but moan at the pleasure that the pain brings you.

It makes you crave more of him that it’s unbearable. You need more.

“Hold on.”

You gently loosen yourself from his grasp, turning from your belly to your side as he pulls out. You see his face. His face looks angelic, sweat glistening under the candlelight and hair sticking to his forehead.

“I want to see your face… please.”

“That makes two of us.” Reigen replies.

He dives onto your chest, slowly kissing and sucking on the skin between your tits before darting to your nipples.

Your hand reaches for his golden hair, the pads of your fingers grazing his scalp as you grab a bundle of his hair. He moans your name out loud as he tastes your skin.

“Shit, Reigen.”

He lifts up his head, mouth wet from his escapade. You reach out to him and wipe the corner of his lips. His tongue runs over his teeth as it forms into a smile.

His hand lifts up to cup your face as he hastily travels his lips to yours, immediately engaging in a wet, hot kiss.

You feel him line up to your entrance again, pushing in with enough force to stop your mouth from dancing against Reigen’s. The sensation of being filled up once more, as Reigen’s sensation of being inside of you, causes a shared sigh of pleasure you exchange as your foreheads touch together.

“I want to try something.” Reigen reaches for your leg closest to him and puts it over his shoulder.

“Hah! Do you want to stretch me out more?

He shrugs with a smile. “It’s only natural. It’s what I do.”

“Yeah? I thought it was ‘curse dispelling’?”

He blows a raspberry at you, brushing your hair away from your glistened forehead. “Potato, potahto. It’ll help your hamstrings, probably. Is that okay?”

Of course it is. You express you consent once again.

Your eyes flutter shut as he begins pumping in and out of you again. You whip your head back against the table now, the indescribable stretch of your leg now letting him pump into you deeper. You bite your lip at the sensation that makes you feel so delirious.

You lift you head to look up at him when you feel more in control of yourself. That’s when you catch a beautiful sight.

His chin is tucked into his chest as his gaze is fixated on your sexes, almost salivating at the scene before him. Reigen’s eyes are so hypnotized by the scene before him that it barely feels real. His huffs vibrate onto your clit, and you twitch forward to him when he gets a demonic idea.

One hand grips your pelvis while the other snakes up to start playing with your clit. Reigen’s thumb rubs you in gentle circles that devolve into firm brushes. You gasp and start squirming, feeling you reach your limit. You can’t contain it anymore, not with that gaze Reigen holds on your pussy, and certainly not with his stimulation on your clit.

“Arataka, please.” You let out a lustful noise that fills the small room.

The call of his name snaps him out of his stupor, connecting his gaze to yours.

He sees your brows knitting together, saliva escaping your mouth from pure pleasure, the culmination of the oil and heat of you two in such a tiny room that starts to stick on your sweet skin. The tears prick the watery ducts of your eyes that look back at you…

And you call his name once more.

Arataka…

It’s almost a whisper as you try to hold back your voice from reaching outside the office. But you accomplished your need to have his focus. The gaze you share with Reigen tells him your needs, your wants. The need to cum, and the want to have it now.

Just like you, he can’t take it anymore to hold back these needs. He needs to be closer to you.

His hand reaches your neck, lightly holding it as he connects your lips in a needy kiss. You can’t contain yourself any longer now, especially from him leaning forward to kiss you, leg still propped on his shoulder as his cock hammered into you. You can’t help but moan louder.

The pulse of your pussy clamping down on him is more apparent than ever and has his head dizzying. His grip on reality weakens. “Keep it down– fuck. ” Reigen groans into your mouth.

You kiss him back in response. Tongues connect just to disconnect and repeat in cycles. You grab onto his wrist, still holding your neck as you coil into a new wave of pleasure. All you can do is take everything Reigen gives you and keep your volume to a minimum.

But how could you? When Reigen kisses you like this and holds you so sensually, even if his dick feeds into you like a monster, he is so purposeful with each movement. So caring yet confident, so needy, as are you. You pant and stifle yourself, but barely to any avail. Anyone within the hall outside of the rooms—maybe even the floors above and below—has caught wind at this point from the music you have made. Reigen has learned this too with time.

As you thought, it’s over for him now; the last breach of rules he wants to enforce breaks his inhibitions as his orgasm starts to creep up. Immediately, he removes his hand from your body, locking his hands against the table and rutting into your bent figure further.

“Shit. I don’t care at this point. I need you.” He whispers in your ear so close you arch your ass, opening your pussy to be drilled in deeper. His pants in your ear dampened the skin around it, earning another heavenly, albeit louder, moan out of you.

“Please, don’t say those things–I can’t,” You moan and throw your head back onto the table. “I can’t hold back anymore.”

Slap!

Your pleas are met with a sharp hand on your ass, causing you to squirm around his cock in pleasure. His pace is ruthless now, and you grip your hands on the edge of the table he’s religiously fusing into you.

“Don’t hold it back anymore. I don’t care who hears now.” He leans into you again. “Make them know how you feel.” Slap! “Let them know how I’m making you feel.”

This pressure is too much to not start your build-up on.

Reigen takes your ankle and pushes it up hard . It causes him to excel past areas he hasn't reached yet, pounding onto your cervix. You tense up from the overwhelming stimulation that comes from each pump.

“Reigen, I’m-I’m gonna-”

“Yeah, haaah. Me too.”

He crouches over you, gripping your flesh harder than ever as he rams into you faster, rolling every shape he can think over your clit, causing you to clamp onto him more and build both of you up.

You sputter words and moans as your core starts to wind up in white-hot pleasure.

You both stare into each other’s eyes, faces contorted in pleasure, until you know it’s time.

You throw your head back as if you wanted to completely rearrange the placement of your spine. You scream out as if you were in agony, only for you to feel complete overwhelming pleasure course throughout your body in never-ending waves until your scream forms into one of complete silence. Your voice is lost from you, yet you continue to latch onto Reigen and dig your nails into him as you shake uncontrollably.

He pulls out of you in swift force and cums onto your stomach, giving one last groan as he milks every bit out. You continue to jitter under him from his length, exiting you along with the after-effects of your orgasm. You join his groans as the sensation of his hot cum covers your stomach.

You see his disheveled hair sticking into his sweat-covered face as his chest heaves out and in to collect himself. He looks back at you with a tired expression, very relieved of his release, and you are with yours. He leans forward and grabs your face for a passionate kiss. You fully turn towards him to deepen it.

“That whole massage session was for nothing. I know I’m gonna wake up sore from you tomorrow.” You wince, trying to straighten your back out, being met with the pain.

“Shoot, I can fix you up tomorrow if you want.”

Before you ask what he’s implying, you start sliding off the table before he stops you.

“Wait a minute. I gotta clean you up first before anything else!” He perks up and turns toward the door.

You giggle at the kind gesture. Reigen maneuvers out of the room, holding out his cum-covered hand to not touch anything, and uses his elbow to push down the handle and slip out.

He returns with a towel, clean hands, and a new item carded between his middle and pointer. “By the way, I think we should be more acquainted now that we’ve sorted that whole mess out earlier.”

You take the card while he wipes you down, seeing the digits written on the paper, and look at him with a flirtatious smirk and blush across your face.

“Are you always this brazen with people close to you?”

“You can either take it or leave it.” He huffs, “It comes with the territory.” He gestures to himself after annunciating territory.

“Somehow, I am fine with that.” You playfully respond. Lightly thumbing the card's end, you subconsciously try to memorize the phone number Reigen gave you. You lift your head to look back at him.

“That means I can get some more curse-dispelling services of yours for free, right?”

Reigen studies your face. You look back at him with a genuine smile. Those amber eyes continue to captivate him. He lifts a brow and looks you up and down.

“Depends. Are you feeling cursed again at this very moment?”

“Wow, on second thought, I might be feeling exactly that.” You start to fan yourself as if suffering instant heat exhaustion. “Gosh, Reigen. You may have to help me against this massage table one more time.”

“With pleasure, pretty girl.”

The card and towel are swiftly tossed to the side as you collide again, certainly with the remembrance that this will be the first time together of the many to come.

#reigen arataka #reader insert #mob psycho reigen #reigen arataka x reader #x reader #fem reader #mob psycho 100 #my fanfic

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ghostbustting · 5 months ago

Note

vampire!Nikki sixx x reader smut where Nikki is just fucking the daylights out of her and won't stop commenting on her heart rate (superhearing) like the smug man he is.

Sorry if you don't write stuff like this feel free to reject, I just thought this sounded hot.

Love you 🩵

don't usually write stuffs like this, but hope I did well !! :")

╰┈➤“𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑫 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫𝑬𝑫„ ๋࣭⭑

Vampire!Nikki Sixx x Reader

Contains Smut and Blood.

The moment I stepped out into the city late at night like this, I knew it might mean trouble. Los Angeles was wild. Too wild, perhaps. You’d see people driving in cars and blasting music loudly, people partying here and there, even some fights. But here I am, only trying to make my way back home from work.

My steps weren’t calm, yet weren’t so fast either. I would’ve chosen a taxi. But I wasn’t taking the chance of getting into a taxi with a creep again. However, was walking any better?

Surely not.

The road was crowded, sure. But not every one of them would seem to give a fuck if a woman was approached by creeps, no matter how obvious a scene is going on, some of them would most likely just avoid the scene in order to ‘protect’ themselves.

Hence, I take shortcuts along my way home. Not saying it’s any safer, but it would be useful if any sketchy dudes with big hairs, leather jackets, and tattoos were going your way.

I walk into the alleyway, the lights of L.A that were always so bright, turned dim and flickering in this area. Puddles of god knows what liquid were everywhere, I had to do my best to avoid them. Which is why, black shoe soles were better in this case, hiding what would be a fucking dirty sole.

However, my steps stops when I see a figure ahead of me. His body tall, dyed black hair big and long enough to hide the back of his neck, he was dressed in black, big boots and gloves covering what would be his slender fingers.

Another thing about the Los Angeles, is that not every corner of The City of Angels was always filled with angels.

Some of the Angelenos tends to stay in the dark late at night, blending perfectly well into the shadows like a camouflage and lurking slowly behind you, catching you off guard the moment you notice them and their demeanor.

Their cold skin seems to look pale by nighttime, teeth pointy if you got the chance to see them talk, often longing for blood, their eyes always as sharp as a razor, cutting through the person’s head each time they were gazed at.

Not a single heart beat would manage to escape their ears that can hear thousands and thousands of noises all at once. But if you run, you stand no chance as they move deadly fast.

I gulped and slowly take a step back, trying not to make any triggering sound. Yet the puddle my shoe just happen to step on betrays me, making a small noise yet loud enough for him to hear.

His body turned around, his greyish green eyes meeting mine in an instant, the way he holds his eye contacts never failed to make my heart thumps loudly, which I hated, knowing he can hear them with such ease. His presence always had it’s way to seduce me, it takes a lot in me to hold back the secret desire in me to feel him.

I’ve encountered Nikki Sixx a couple times before, sometimes when he’s playing with his band, sometimes in situations like this, often finding it easy to avoid him and the troubles he’d surely bring towards my way, even though he never went too far over flirting. But seems like today just wasn’t my luck as he immediately went to me and pinned me up against the alley’s wall.

My breath hitched as I look up at him, a small grin on his lips now, his sharp teeth just slightly peeking out. “Got you now..” He murmured, the proximity between us making me able to take a sniff of his intoxicating cologne, the scent filling my nostrils as if I just walked into a fragrance boutique.

“..I’m just trying to go home..” I say sternly in order to make my statement crystal clear to him. I try to keep my eyes on his, trying to make him think I’m not scared. Which, I am, partially that is. In a way, I don’t think he’d hurt me. The thing he does might be very unexpected, but one thing about him is that his true desires are visible right in those eyes of his like a window to his heart.

Nikki chuckled, rolling his eyes as he lean down close to my ears, his cold breath meeting right against my skin, sending shivers up my spine as I stiffen up. “Then why don’t you let me take you home?” His hands slowly make their way towards my hips.

I froze and clear my throat before trying to speak again, “I don’t—”

But before I knew it, he cut my words of protest off as he lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder before he start run.. really fast. I yelp and hold onto his head tightly, grasping onto his hair. “What the fuck, Sixx?!?” I screamed, punching his shoulder over and over again as if it’d stop him.

The not so humanlike speed he had in his run made my heart beat fast, afraid of falling off, even though the firm hold he have on my hips are supposed to be enough to keep from falling. “Slow down! Fuck!” I protest, holding onto him for dear life and closing my eyes.

“Oh you’ll scream that again later!” He laughed like a maniac. I blush when I realize what he meant, smacking his shoulder again in response. I can’t tell whether to be flustered or feel the need to kill him, thought the possibility of the latter seems very very impossible.

Next thing I knew, we came into a stop.

Slowly, my eyes starts to flutter open while Nikki lay me down on my bed.. I flinch and look around, shocked to find us in my bedroom in a flash of light. It felt like only 5 seconds ago we were still in that nasty empty alleyway.

“How the fuck—"

I was cut off yet again when Nikki made his way on top of me on the bed, he was hovering over my figure with that same devilish grin he wore the whole time.

My breath got stuck in the middle of my throat as he towers over my body and took the back of one of his hand to caress my cheek. “Don’t be afraid, I don’t bite.” He whisper, then he paused before chuckling to himself, his sharp fangs being shown even more clearly now. “Well woops, that one’s a lie.”

Though I tried so hard to act like he doesn’t intimidate me one bit. Yet of course, my heart beat was too easy for him to detect and use as a proof of my intimidation, along with the heavy breaths I let out, each noise his ears catches making his grin even wider and devilish.

The eyeliner around his eye made the color of his eyes even more lighter and intriguing, those green eyes of his so majestic with the moonlight that peeks from my window shining his way, illuminating and spotlighting every single features that face of his owns.

Each blink my eyes made, they open to a different vision of him, each new vision, another new breathtaking features of his takes ahold of my attention while he continued to grin down at my statue-like state.

“Let me have you..” His voice echoes in my mind, like a sweet seduction for me to open up my heart, to let my desire take over my body just like the way his own desire take over his body. “I’ll take.. very good.. care of you..”

When his face leaned down even more, my eyes slowly flutter close on it’s own, acting as a permission for him to take an act.

Next thing I know, his hands clawed on my clothes and rip them apart with his strong bare hands, meanwhile his lips immediately move to mine, his kiss already passionate and rough from the moment our lips touched, his movements driven by lust and a burning flame in him.

I always knew no matter how wild this man can be, there are always much more deeper and wilder layers to unfold within him. And that is exactly what I’m doing right now.

Something in me myself burned, as if he shared that flame with me through our locked lips. My hands tugged on his hair while small gasps leaves me when my body became fully exposed within minutes, the fabrics that once covered my body were thrown away, his cold hands roaming over my warm body, the difference between our body temperature only making things even more intense.

Suddenly, I feel his fangs sink into my bottom lip, wincing when he licked up the blood that leaks from my lip and pull back from me, smirking as he starts to undress himself.

“Nikki..” I softly whisper, squirming on the cold sheets.

His finger then meets my lips, sushing me while he slowly take off his clothes.

With each fabric removed, more of his pale skin reveals itself, seducing me to touch him. His clothes were thrown to the floor, joining my own pile of ripped up clothes. I watch his body silently, the tattoos he had on his arms, the way his chest rise and fall, the happy trail leading down to his hard cock.

Then back up to the grin on his face as he slowly spread my legs apart. He was so tempting, his hands as cold as ice while he touch me with such lust in his eyes.

With his cock in his hand, he lead it to my cunt and slipped it in with such ease, almost immediately taking control over my hips and thrusting in and out of me with a surreal speed.

I gasp and grasp onto the sheets around me, squirming at the feeling of his cock filling every spot in me, the pleasure building up inside of me and pushing out dirty noises from my lips, the noises that only made him grin even more, his fangs showing much clearly.

His thrusts were incredibly fast, too fast to the point I can’t even keep up any more with it, yet it haven’t even been 5 minutes since he’s been inside me. My eyes were already rolling to the back of my head, my lips apart as I moaned out his name.

“Nikki..! Fuck..! Slow down..!”

“Feel good huh?!” He laughed a sinister laugh that fills my ears.

“So good..!” I nodded and pant for breath, desperate to have control of myself again. But this man above me was way stronger and powerful than I am, he knew way too much how to please me, or rather please himself.

His cock continued to thrust in and out of my tight hole, our skin meeting each other each time he thrusts, creating a loud slapping noise that harmonize along with my moans and his groans.

I could tell that he was losing control over himself, his head thrown back and he was letting out the loudest groan ever before he lean down and bury his face in my neck.

I thought nothing of it until I feel those sharp fangs strikes blood again, this time on my neck while he suck on the blood desperately, tasting me. I wince and held onto his back, tears building up in my hazy eyes.

Another sinister laugh leave his lips as he connects his lips to mine, making me taste my own blood on his tongue.

One of his hand that was previously on my hips trails up to my chest, his fingernails lightly caressing over the skin of my chest, making me arch my back and yearn for more of his touch.

“Your heart.. it’s beating very loud..” I can practically hear the grin in his voice as his nails gently press against my skin, making me think his nails are going to sink into my skin and steal my heart that is uncontrollably pounding very fast and loud. “I bet it’s for me, hmm? No man can give you this much pleasure, yes?”

The feeling of his cock continuously hitting that special spot in me made it hard for me to even utter out a single letter.

“Answer me!”

“YES!!”

I moaned out, my fingernails creating a big scratch mark down his back, making him groan and laugh once more before accelerating his thrusts. “What a slut.. your little heart’s practically beating out of your chest.. and it’s all for me.. your heart’s all mine..”

The tension behind his voice and choice of words only made the pleasure more unbearable, my toes curling as my legs shake, his hands still taking full control of my hips. “Yes! Yes!” I continued to pant out, not even able to breathe correctly.

Suddenly, I can feel my walls close up around his member, squeezing him in as I feel a strong knot on my stomach, my eyes wide and filled with tears that now stains my cheeks. “I need to cum.. please please let me..” I beg, half sobbing.

“Let go, baby.” He then held my legs up and place them on his shoulders, pausing before he thrusts even faster now.

Screams escapes my mouth as his faster thrusts pulls out the strongest release from me ever, my back arching off the sheets beneath me while his hips’ movement slowly falters as he fills me up with his seeds, shooting in white streaks all around my hole before pulling out.

As I try to take control of my breathing, his body plopped onto the spot beside me, pulling me close to his chest. “Told you I’d take care of you..” He panted out with that same grin never leaving his face.

I scoffed out a chuckle and rest my head on his chest, still panting. “What.. Whatever..”

He was breathing heavily, his chest rising up and down just like mine is, though I did not hear a single heart beat the whole time I rest on his chest.

But I suppose that’s just what he is.

A cold-blooded creature with a once dead heart that’s been brought back to live.

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authoreetea · 1 year ago

Text

10 days of you

pairing : rafe cameron x reader

summary : part 3 to losing you, final part. where rafe had 10 days til christmas, and in those ten days, he is determined to win you back.

note! i am so sorry this took so long, i've literally been so busy with uni stuff. hope u like!

p2 p1

The cool air engulfed the people of the outer banks, carrying the promise of holiday magic as figure eight was decorated in festive lights. I found myself caught in the undertow of emotion, remembering the ten days of Rafe trying to "win me back"

I can't help but bite back a smile, It made me feel all warm and I could feel the butterflies fluttering in my body. The first day, I awoke to a large bouquet of my favorite flowers with a note from Rafe.

it read; "Good morning, doll. I have a surprise in the living room.

love, Rafe."

I felt my cheeks warming up, I looked at my phone to see what time it was, and it was exactly time for breakfast. Walking down, I could already smell the fresh coffee and some sweet waffles.

"Hi darling, you sleep well?" Rafe asked, greeting me as I walked down the stairs.

I smiled at him, "Yes, I did. Thank you for the flowers by the way, you remembered my favorites. " in turn, he smirked at me and bent down to my height.

"Of course I did, I could never forget anything about you." Rafe said, in a semi raspy and quiet tone that makes me wanna jump him

"Anyways, I made you some coffee and waffles. Eat up! I have a lot prepared for today." He says, leading me to the dining table.

There were two plates of fluffy waffles with bacon and syrup on the side with a cup of coffee in the same christmas mugs I bought years before.

"This looks so good!" I say, my eyes wide with excitement. "You cooked these?" I asked, looking at him.

Rafe chuckles and nods, before pulling out a chair for you. mhm, gentleman.

I say a soft thank you and he sits in front of me. I dig in and instantly am greeted with pleasure. "So, what're we doing today?" I say, my mouth still half-full with some waffles.

He grins at me, "You're adorable. You'll see when we go to the living room."

After breakfast, Rafe guided me to the living room all while covering my eyes. "I really hope you like this."

He uncovers my eyes and I am met with our christmas ornaments and decorations that we used the last christmas we celebrated together.

"Are these-?" I start, but Rafe already answered.

"Yup. The same exact ones. I didn't decorate again after that, it felt wrong, without you." He said, and I almost teared up.

"Oh, Rafe." I say, in a soft voice. He smiles, redirecting the conversation.

"I also bought those ugly christmas sweaters you're obsessed with, look! we can match." Rafe says, showing the neatly folded ugly sweaters on the couch. I grinned, he knew me too well.

"These are so adorable, I love it!" I say, rushing to the couch to immediately wear the one intended for me as Rafe chuckles at my eagerness and wears his as well.

"I'm glad you like it." He says, before walking closer to me. "Will you, y/n, accept my invitation to decorate this house, that even Saint Nicholas himself would be jealous?" Rafe says playfully, holding his hand out for me to accept his invitation.

I accepted his hand as I chuckled like a little kid on Christmas Eve.

Almost hours later, We decorated the whole living and dining area with festive and warm decorations. "It's beautiful!" I say, looking at Rafe with a big smile.

"Just like you." He says, his eyes twinkling from the christmas lights as he looked at me so fondly. My cheeks started warming up, my heart beating faster.

Is it bad to admit I already feel like I'm falling in love with him all over again, on day one? I won't tell him that though, he needs to work for it.

Day Five

Days have passed and everyday I woke up with a handwritten note on the bedside table and a bouquet of flowers. I was curious as to what he had planned this time.

I read the note, it said ; "Hey beautiful, I went out for a while. Work stuff. Meet me at the front door by 11? Wear something casual, I'll see you.

love, Rafe."

It was already 8 am, I stood up and made my bed and had some breakfast. After doing my routine, I wore a simple sundress that I know Rafe loves, and a white knit cardigan cause it gets really chilly during December.

By the time I finished, it was almost 11 which was when Rafe arrived.

He walked in by the doorway, before he saw me, and his eyes were wide in admiration and his mouth slightly parted. "Hi, you look lovely." Rafe said, in a sigh as if he just got his breath taken away.

I smiled at him. "Thank you, you look nice." I say, taking note of his white button dow shirt and navy blue pants.

Grinning, Rafe opened the door "You ready?" He asks. I nod, walking out as he trails behind me. He opens the door to his Bentley and we sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"So, where are we going?" I ask. Rafe looks at me for a brief second, and smiles. "You remember, one of our first dates when we were sixteen, we had a really spontaneous picnic under a lighthouse by tannyhil that we only had candies and chips as our food?" He says, the memory clear as day as he talked about it.

I gasped and grinned, turning to him. "Oh my gosh, yes! I remember, we kept promising we'd come back next time more prepared."

He chuckles. "Yup, and I'll finally fulfill my promise." Rafe says, looking at me briefly again. He had his hand on the wheel as he drove, and his sunglasses hanging by the pocket of his shirt.

I took a minute to admire him, completely forgetting we were having a conversation. He smirks, looking at me again before looking bsck at the road.

"You alright?" He asks, a faint tone of teasing evident in his voice. I playfully roll my eyes.

Few minutes later we've finally arrived at the place. There was a red and white picnic blanket set on the floor, with pillows and fairy lights around, and Rafe got the basket filled with food from his car.

"This is so adorable, Rafe." I say in awe. He smiles at me and sets the food down on the picnic blanket.

"I got you all your favorite food. and for old times sake, I got the same gummy candies we had years ago." Rafe said, smiling as he took out the bag of candy and shook it.

I said down on the blanket, smiling as I looked at the food he got. He did have everything I liked, from fruits to my favorite pastries and meals.

I was in awe, he really still remembered everything I liked.

"Come, let's eat!" He says, handing me some chocolate covered strawberries. I take it from him and almost sigh at how absolutely delicious it was.

I looked around, this place still looked and feels exactly the same as it used to. I feel myself start to tear up, the nostalgia getting to me. Rafe notices and stopped what he was doing.

He looked at me with concern as he saw tears pooling in my eyes. "Darling, what's wrong? did I mess it up? We could do something els-"

"No, Rafe. It's perfect. I just feel nostalgic, It still feels exactly the same way it did when we were sixteen, I miss it." I say, my nose sniffling and turning red.

He looked at me with adoration in his eyes as he cupped my cheek, making me look up at his soft blue eyes.

"It's alright, doll. It's normal to miss things sometimes." He says, pausing to wipe a stray tear that fell with his thumb. " Do you remember? That night, we carved out initials on the bottom of this very lighthouse. " He said, pointing at the lighthouse, as he tried to distract me from my tears.

I smiled through my teary eyes and stuffy nose, and nodded. "Yeah, I wonder if it's still there?" I said, wiping of my eyes.

Rafe grins, standing up before pulling you along with him. "It is, look." He says, pointing at the wooden exterior of the lighthouse by the very bottom and it read his initials with a heart between yours.

"Awe, I can't believe it's still here, all these years." I say in shock, bringing my hands to touch the engraved initials.

Rafe smiles and says, "Just like I'll be. I'll be here, with you in all the years to come."

Days have passed and it was finally Christmas Eve. The previous days have been perfect, Rafe surprised me to a candle-lit dinner by the beach, a beautiful day on his boat, and more.

I felt myself falling deeper and deeper. This was the Rafe I originally fell in love with, and he was finally back.

Christmas Eve dawned with thick anticipation. Rafe, adorned with determination, stood by the tree we decorated on the first day, a single rose in hand.

"It's Christmas Eve, doll. Wanna open your gifts?" He says, greeting me with a hug.

I hug him back, inhaling his warm and comforting scent. "Yes! I got you some things too. Let's open together"

Laughter and joy was in the air, it felt lively. Rafe got me four gifts, a photo album with pictures from our teenage years, a beautiful dress, some designing equipment, and a really cute mug with those 3d tulips on the outside.

I was really grateful, we shared stories over hot cocoa as he opened all the gifts I got him. We celebrated the night with some cheesy hallmark Christmas movies and delicious christmas snacks.

Rafe looked incredibly nervous though, halfway through one of the movies. I don't know why, I assumed it was that he drank one to many hot cocoas.

He cleared his throat, taking me away from my thoughts. He gave me a sheepish smile.

"I actually... um" He started, pausing again, "I have another gift for you." He said, his voice quiet and shy, not the usual way that he is.

My eyes widen, "Really? You already gave so much, Rafe!"

He smiles at me, standing up to grab it from one of his drawers.

"I think this will top all my other gifts." He said, sitting back down. I looked at his hand and saw a ring box. I felt my heart skip a beat and my jaw dropping to the floor.

He looks at me with sincerity in his eyes, opening the box, revealing a beautiful ring that's exactly how I like it.

"Look, many years ago... I was really scared. I didn't have the best example of a good marriage growing up, and I didn't want to give that to you in fear that it'd be too hard." He says.

l feel myself tearing up again, damn christmas season always makes me emotional.

"I should've done this years ago, y/n. I shouldn't have let you go, I regretted it day after day. Now that I have the chance, I don't wanna wait for years anymore. What do you say? Have I won you over, darling?" Rafe says, he himself tearing up.

"Will you marry me, for real, this time?" He asks, his body inching closer and closer towards me. The room felt incredibly warm and my heart was beating crazily, Rafe was breathing fast and I could feel the anticipation in the air.

Tears finally fell down my eyes in waterfalls, and I looked like a blubbering mess. I threw my arms over his neck, attacking him in a hug.

"Oh, Rafe. This was all I ever wanted, Yes I will marry you!" I say, pulling apart to look at his face. He was also tearing up, and he had a smile on his face that looked like mine.

"I am so glad you said yes, darling. You won't regret this, I swear on my life. I love you." He says, wearing the ring on my ring finger.

"I love you too, Rafe." I said, crying tears of joy before his lips met with mine.

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