#i need to go to the dry cleaners and pick up my dress for the wedding i'm going to this weekend
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housepixie · 1 year ago
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moving every single piece of furniture in my apartment around because i am doing great in the head rn
#about to talk about recovering from my ed so please protect your sanity if reading about that would be bad for you#i feel like i'm finally snapping after about five years of trying my best to minimize how bad my everything is#probably because i've managed to eat consistently this month (a big deal bc every other time i've done this i've intended to give up and#i don't have that intention this time which is so frightening. it felt very safe being under the cloying control of disease frankly and i a#also very terrified that my stomach is just going to straight up explode or refeeding syndrome or what if i give up but#i woke up today and my skin was a normal color with no weird undertone of grey and my fingernails were pink and i felt goodweird about it.)#so now my stupid brain works and it turns out it's overwhelmed by having wasted five years of my life on trying to slowly kill myself#and all the other stuff. the reasons or whatever#meanwhile i have SO MUCH TO DO i don't have time to be recovering from anorexia!!! i have errands to run!!!!!!#i need to go to the dry cleaners and pick up my dress for the wedding i'm going to this weekend#which uhhhhh being seen. cool. cool!#i need to go to my friend who's getting married's apartment and retrieve the makeup i accidentally left there#i need to go grocery shopping#i need to go cleaning supplies shopping#i need to clean the bathroom#i have company coming and need to set up their room#all i seem to be capable of doing is moving my own furniture around#if nothing else i'm great at picking up a table and moving it to a part of my room and going 'no this is disgusting' and moving it again
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mountainsandmayhem · 8 months ago
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Just One More, Baby
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18+, Minors Do Not Interact Pairing: Pleasure!Dom Pike x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.8k Summary: Just a casual evening with your pleasure dom husband and as many as orgasm as he thinks you can handle. There is zero plot here, people. CW: so many orgasms, light bondage, temperature play, use of pet names (baby, honey, etc.) praise kink (obviously, unless you're new here. In that case; hi, welcome, I have a praise kink), aftercare AN: I need this man more than I need food or oxygen or money. I'm out of my mind over him and I curse the day I decided to watch these random ass episodes of The Mentalist. Friendy reminder that I am phasing out my tag list, so please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on the notifications to stay up to date. Thank you so much for reading, where's my Pike Army? XO Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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The warm oil drizzles over your mound, spreading across your hips and cunt. You let out a pained hiss when it hits your sore and overstimulated clit.
“Ouuchh,” you whine, your breathing shudders. 
“You’ve been such a good girl,” Marcus murmurs, watching the oil as it beads and rolls in every direction. “Just relax.” 
You close your eyes and try to steady your breathing. Relaxing the muscles in your arms and legs that have been pulling at the soft silk restraints for god knows how long as Marcus pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. 
He is still dressed, he had only managed to remove his suit jacket and tie before he started. He has the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled to his elbows, still tucked into the dark blue dress pants you picked up from the dry cleaner yesterday. His belt is still on, too, shoes toed off at some point during his slow torture. 
You, on the other hand, are completely naked. A delicate, white silk tie around your wrists that is then looped through the headboard, stretching your arms above your head. Your ankles are held much in the same way, one tie on each ankle, keeping your legs spread wide.
He’s used every means available to him to make you come tonight; fingers, tongue, your small purple vibrator, a dildo, or a combination of one or two of those things. He’s done everything except fuck you. At some point you lost count of the orgasms, lost track of when one would end and the next would start. 
The oil starts to soothe the dull ache he’s caused at the apex of your thighs. Marcus’s intention is never to cause you pain, but tonight you learned that too much pleasure can feel like torture. 
You let out a content sigh, muscles going gooey and pliant. “There’s my girl,” he says proudly, his strong hands coming to your hips, his thumbs needing the muscles along the crevice of your leg and pelvis. 
He clears his throat gently. “I think I counted sixteen.” 
You smirk and let out a small giggle, eyes still closed as you relax into his touches. He kisses the plush skin along your lower belly. His soft velvety lips are gentle, granted Marcus Pike is always gentle. Yes, he’ll tie you down or make you orgasm so many times you black out, but he’s always soft and warm. Always asking for permissions. Always explaining exactly what’s going to happen before it does - not that you have an option, or want an option if you’re being honest.
“Baby girl?” He mumbles, his breath hitting the oil, warming your most sensitive spots. You shudder, an icy shiver running down your spine at the feel of him. “Think we can get you to twenty?” 
His hands move to massage the tops of your thighs, thumbs crawling closer and closer to your pussy. Your clit twitches at the promise of him giving you another orgasm, that blissful tingle causes the tired and overworked walls of your cunt to flutter. Pleasure followed by a dull painful ache waves across your center and mix of a whine and whimper fills the room.
“What’s the matter, baby?”
His thumbs come to carefully pull apart your puffy outer lips. Watching intently as the oil coats your glistening folds. A moan rumbled in his chest, “Beautiful.” 
“I’m sensitive, Marcus,” you murmur, pulling at the silk ties he has your hands bound above your head with.
“I know, this perfect little pussy has taken so much. And you’ve been so brave and submissive. I’m so proud of you, honey.” He places a light kiss on the patch of hair right above your clit. 
Your orgasm happens so quickly and without him even touching you. A lustful gasp leaves your lips as you shake under him. His voice is full of lustful admiration as he says, “Good job, baby.”
Your muscles tense, hands fisting, as the orgasm rolls through you. You whine his name, equally desperate for the orgasm to end but also for it to never stop. “Just relax, that’s my good girl.” 
“Oh god,” your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. 
“Look at me, darling.” Marcus said sweetly, the soft pads of his thumbs running up and down the slick lips of your pussy. 
You look down at him, the soft expression of his face riddling you with emotions. You can feel the tears prickle behind your eyes. Tears of what you aren’t sure. Happiness, that’s for sure. But also a sense of overwhelm and insatiable need, it’s all mixed together. You can stop it, a hot tear runs down your flushed cheek. 
“It’s ok. I’m right here,” He says softly. “You can do this, baby. Just three more, then I’ll run you a bubble bath and give you my sweat pants and all the cuddles. Can you do that? Can you give me three more?” 
“No,” you say through a shaky breath. He’s trying to kill you, you’re sure of it. And while death by orgasm might sound like a great way to go, your pussy is aching and tired. 
His thumbs stop their ministrations. 
“Do you need to use your safe word?” 
You shake your head, “No.”
He lowers his mouth to your swollen clit, lightly feathers his tongue over the tender bundle of nerves. You pull so hard on the restraints that the delicate silk snaps and your hands card through his hair, pulling him back. He has you on that paper thin line of pain and pleasure, but the slight attention to your puffy clit slices through you. “Nonono - please stop.” 
“Do you need to use your safe word?” He asks again.
You shake your head no.
“Do you need me to go get some ice? Make my tongue nice and cold, then make your pussy feel better?” 
“Yes, please.” You pout, sticking out your bottom lip. 
Marcus stands and removes his belt. “Ok baby, but first, my naughty little girl broke her restraints. Arms up.”
You put your arms back above your head and he expertly loops the belt around your wrists. He leaves the scraps of silk that are still around your delicate wrists and then wraps the belt around the headboard.
He stands beside the bed, looking down at you hungrily. “Fuck, I could torture you for hours,” his eyes flick to the alarm clock across the from you and then back to your flushed face. Smirking a little, he corrects himself. “I already have been, so I guess I should say that I will never be sick of seeing you like this. So submissive and sweet. Listening to my every word. Teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” 
He runs the back of his hand down your cheek, you keen into his touch and smile at him. “Yes, I’m a good girl, Marcus.” 
He bends down, kissing your forehead and then the tip of your nose before he walks out of the bedroom. You look him up and down, so sexy in his dress pants and white dress shirt, his strong, veiny forearms on display. You had no idea what you were in for when he ditched the tie and suit jacket the moment he walked in the door tonight. But you knew that look. When frustration etched his eyebrows and a hunger flashed in his eyes. You knew he needed an escape, and you knew it came in the form doing exactly as he says.  
Marcus grabs a small bowl and fills it with ice from the freezer. He grabs you a bottle of water and then pops an ice cube in his mouth, letting the frozen water melt on his tongue as he walks back up the stairs. As he re-enters the bedroom he sees you lying there - spread eagle and arms bound, eyes closed peacefully, long lashes resting on your cheeks. Your swollen tits rise and fall, nipples hard and slightly purple from the rose gold clamps he had on them earlier. You look sinful and delicious. He meant what he said, he could do this to you forever and never get sick of it. But as your pleasure dom he knows he’s going to have to stop soon. The folds of your pussy are puffy and red, he sucks the ice cube harder, making it small enough so he can speak. 
“Goddamn,” it comes out as groan. “You’re so fuckin beautiful.” 
You flutter your eyes open, “So are you.” 
You swear he blushes as a shy smile crosses his face. “I’m going to make it all better now, baby. I’m going to use my mouth to make you come again now. My tongue is nice and cool, it should help with that ache.”
He puts the water on the bench at the foot of the bed and then climbs between your legs, placing the bowl of ice on the bed beside your hip. “Are you ready, baby girl?” 
You gulp before whispering, “Yes.” 
His cold tongue licks a slow, flat, languid line from your entrance to your clit. The cooler temperature of his mouth soothes the burning heat between your thighs. 
“Mmmm - Th-thank you, Marcus,” you hum as he repeats the motion with his tongue two, three, four more times. 
He grabs a new ice cube and pops it in his mouth. As he sucks on it, he grabs a second cube and runs it down the right outer lip of your cunt. He hushes you as you cry out and then does the same thing to the left side. The cube in his mouth has melted enough now for him to continue tasting you. He places the flat of his tongue on your clit and presses down, his hand with the ice cube comes to your right nipple. Ice starts to combat the fire in your veins, and as he trails the ice cube around your nipple, his tongue mirrors the pattern on your swollen nub. 
And then it happens again. For the eighteenth time tonight, your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. Your convulse under his cold tongue and as quickly as the orgasm starts it’s over. You’d think after coming this many times in the last two hours that you’d be satisfied and exhausted, but the quickness of that last one leaves you wanting more.
He stills his tongue and lets you grind on him, the ice cube he was trailing along your body has melted. He grabs a fresh one and traces it along your body as you shamelessly hump your husband’s face.
He brings the ice cube to rest right above your mound, the cold water running down your folds, causing you to hiss as it hits your clit. 
Marcus pulls his tongue away quickly to say, “Come on, baby.” He lays his tongue out for you again and you push your hips into him harder. 
“Fuckfuckfuck - Marcus, I - I’m, oh fuuuuuck.”
He slips the ice cube between his tongue and your cunt and you shatter around him.
“Oh god, mmmmm, yes.” Your voice is hoarse, throat dry from the combination of your rapid breathing and incoherent ramblings throughout the night.
He stays still, letting you control your nineteenth orgasm. His name spills from your lips as you circle your hips. The walls of your pussy clench and release around nothing, slowly and deeply, over and over. Sparks of pleasure light behind your eyes. 
“Marcus. Yesyes - oh my god,” your legs start to tremble as you come down the other side of the most intense orgasm you’ve had so far tonight. 
“Good girl,” he whispers, kissing up your hip bone to your stomach, your navel to your sternum, the swell of your breasts to your neck, and finally your lips. “You’re doing so well, baby. Just one more. Can you do just one more for me?” 
You strain your neck to press your lips to his again. Kissing him deeply and slowly. “One more,” you mumble into his lips. 
“I’m going to untie you for this one. I want to feel your fingers tug at my hair as I suck on that perfect little clit while pushing my fingers against that little spot inside of you that drives you absolutely wild. Is that ok, little one?” 
“Mmm,” you hum. Mischievously adding, “Yes, daddy.” 
Marcus laughs flirtatiously as he releases your wrists from his belt and the torn silk ties. “Are you okay, baby?” 
You nod as he guides your arms down and then situates himself between your soft, plush thighs, sitting back on his heels.
“Do you need a drink?” He asks, grabbing the water from the foot of the bed. 
“Yes, please.”
He cracks the lid and then helps you sit, guiding the bottle to your lips. You sip a little, the cool water soothes your throat. Marcus’s brown eyes bore into you, soothing the rest of your body. “One more, baby,” he whispers. 
You hum in agreement before lying back down in the bed. Marcus leaves your ankles restrained as he unbuttons his dress shirt and then tosses it on the floor. You eye his hard chest and slightly soft belly, a line of dark hair that starts at his navel and travels down to his cock, which is rock hard under his dress pants.
He gives you a shy closed lip smile, “Do you need to use your safe word?” 
“No,” you say breathily.
Marcus grabs an ice cube and holds it in his fist, his lips coming to place lingering kisses on your clit. Making out with one of his favourite parts of you. Kissing and kissing, occasionally running his tongue along it before kissing you deeply again. 
Once the ice cube in his hand has melted, he teases at your entrance with two cold fingers. You cry out, as pushes them all the way in and then he curls them forward, turning you into a moaning mess. You wrap your fingers into his hair like he asked, holding his face against you. 
“That’s my girl,” he says between kisses. “So good for me.” 
He sucks your clit into his mouth, pumping his fingers against your g spot. A pained cry passes your lips, “aah, it hurts.” 
“I know, baby. You’re so close.” He whispers encouragingly, pausing the suckling on your clit, keeping his fingers still. 
“I - I can’t.”
“You can do it, baby. You’re almost there. I can feel you clenching me.” He curls his fingers forward slowly. “Come on, my love.” 
“M - Marcus. It hurts, baby. I can’t. I can’t.” You whimper. 
“Relax, baby.” His free hand presses on your lower belly and the pressure behind your navel becomes nearly unbearable. “That’s it, fuck baby. I can feel her fluttering for me. Can feel your orgasm building. You’re amazing, did you know that? Give me number twenty, pretty girl.”
You whimper again, willing your body to relax. Willing for the dull painful ache to blossom into pleasure.
“Good girl. Just relax,” he presses down on your stomach harder, his fingers still cold inside you as they tickle against the front wall of your pussy. 
You tighten your grip in his hair and he hisses at the pain in his scalp before bringing his lips back to your clit. He sucks it into his mouth loudly, lewd sucking noises filling the room, only interrupted by your mumbles of building pleasure. 
He releases your clit, “Let go for me.”
With a final steadying breath it hits you. Your last orgasm sashes over, erasing every thought until all you are is the pleasure Marcus gives you. Your abused pussy flutters weakly around his fingers as he pumps them inside of you. You gasp and squeal as your body breaks out in goosebumps, but simultaneously glistens with a fresh sheen of sweat. 
Marcus slows his fingers and looks up at you through his lashes. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers in awe as the involuntary full body twitching of your orgasm starts to slow.
“So…” he kisses your mound.
“...Very…” he stops his fingers and kisses your hip. 
“...Beautiful,” he starts to slowly slip his fingers out and your body goes slack. 
You lay there panting, trying to catch your breath and find your muscles. Marcus unties your ankles and climbs beside you, pulling you into him and tucking your head into his neck. 
“I love you,” he murmurs into your hairline, kissing you softly. “You did so well for me. Twenty orgasms. My good girl.” 
You roll into him tighter and wince when your thighs squeeze together. 
“Aw, baby. Is she sore?” 
You pull back to be able to look at him. “A little, yeah.” 
“Come here,” he pulls you closer. “Just let me hold you a little and then I’ll run you that bubble bath I promised.” 
“Will you come in with me?” You ask sleepily. 
Marcus laughs gently, “Of course. Whatever my baby wants.” 
You nuzzle deeper into his skin and let your eyelids close. Completely and utterly surrounded by your beautiful husband. 
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urmomschocolatemilk · 4 months ago
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Simon Riley x Alternative!fem!reader
I went thrifting td with a friend and got this idea. Reminder that my inbox is open ghost headcanons and requests
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If there was one thing Simon knew about you from the moment the two of you met, it was that you loved to sew. Almost every piece of clothing you owned was handmade or altered. You’d cut up shirts, using the lace or frill at the top and add it to another piece of clothing. You’d tailor dresses and shirts for your friends and family and always patch up Simon's on base uniform.  
You weren't sure what made sitting in front of the sewing machine, eyes trained on a certain strip of whatever you were working on that was so therapeutic but it was. Not only was it that you loved the art of sewing, but in-store brands never seemed to have something you liked, or fit your personal style, so being able to make your own clothing really came in handy.
Your birthday was coming around and Simon, being the best boyfriend he was, had already picked a restaurant and booked a reservation. What you didn't know however, was that he’d been learning to sew for the past couple of months because he wanted to make you a dress that you would absolutely adore. He knew nothing he could buy would cut it, and he also knew that you loved handmade gifts. So, he found that this was the perfect gift. 
Now Simon knew what you liked about your clothes and what you didn't. For example, you didn't like light tones because you felt they highlighted any hyperpigmentation you had. Or that you didn't like to wear dresses with too high a slit on the side because you felt that it caused the fabric to fall weirdly around your legs.
Even with all this knowledge Simon didn't want to get it wrong. He wanted this gift to be perfect and as previously stated, something you’d adore. So, he stole your sketch book, which contained every preview of a design you’d created in the past year and flipped through it. Taking mental notes of each similarity and alteration.  
The week after that Simon enrolled in a regularly scheduled sewing class to begin working on his project. Simon did feel out of place there, especially at the start. He was the only man there, let alone a 6’2 military buff, but the instructor didn't treat him any differently, and he didnt pay any mind to it either.
“You want this to be your first project?” the teacher asked when Simon first showed her the sketch. He nodded. “This is quite difficult for a beginner. You understand that, yes?”
Simon shrugged ‘It’s going to be a gift.”  
Every week, twice a week Simon showed up to class. He never skipped a session. He needed this dress to be perfect. It took a month for him to get it looking decent, and then another half month to get it looking perfect. It seemed he was a fast learner.  
Finally, he was able to take it home, and the first place it went was to the dry cleaners. He wasn't going to risk throwing his masterpiece, and more importantly, your gift, into the washing machine to get ruined. Then when he picked it up he folded it neatly and placed it in a gorgeous red velvet box he had bought.  
Hiding it was easier than Simon had expected it to be, considering that you lived together and every part of the house was easily accessible to you. The only thing you didn't ever touch was his desk. So, he decided to keep it there, placing it at the bottom of the desk cabinet and neatly stacking some papers and folders around it to keep it concealed.   
Finally, the day came around and you were just about ready to begin getting ready for dinner when he stopped you mid-way into the bathroom.  
“I want to show you something,” Simon said, taking your hand and sitting you down on the bed. You furrowed your eyebrows, slightly concerned.  
“Is everything okay?” You asked  
“Just wait here,” he told you, walking swiftly out of the room and into his office. Simon rarely smiled, like really smiled, but when he came back into the room, red velvet box in hand his lips were turned up in subtle excitement.  
“What's this?” you asked with a grin, taking the box from him and running your hand over the soft, plush exterior.  
“Your birthday present," he answers. Simon is nervous as he watches you lift the lid, placing it gently next to you and taking out the soft fabric in the box. Your lips part in awe as you realize what it is, and you pinch it at the top, holding it out in front of you and letting it unravel itself. He watches as your eyes glaze over it slowly, taking in every detail. You love it. 
“Where did you get this?” you ask, not taking your eyes off the beautiful piece of fabric. He swears he can see your eyes glittering in the light as you look at the dress.  
“I made it.” He states. You’re already smiling, but when you hear his answer, your smile widens. You look beautiful, he thinks.  
“You made this?” You repeat excitedly, your head turning to look up at him. He nodded. “This is gorgeous baby!” You were so touched by the length and effort he had put into something for you. You knew he didn't know how to sew so the fact that he learned to and took the time to learn what you liked and didn't like made your heart bloom with adoration.  
“You like it lovie’?” he asked. You nodded profusely, setting the dress aside as you stood and threw your arms around him. Pressing a kiss to his lips you answered.  
“I love it.” 
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minkdelovely · 10 months ago
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love and power
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✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
chapter two
“i come loaded with the
safety switch on.”
Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie
tags/warnings: blood, sensory overload, vomit, implied cannibalism, descriptions of graphic violence, power dynamics, non-consensual touching, valentino sighting, slow burn eventual: smut
word count: 2.5k
author’s note: i just wanted to give a huge shoutout to @hazelfoureyes for being so gracious to let me tag her here as inspo! if you haven’t already, please go check out her work - she’s seriously sooo talented and awoke my need for more interaction between alastor and valentino lol
prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
Alastor had insisted that you walk back to the hotel, your arm linked under his as he paraded you through the remainder of the city like a proud parent.
You tried to fight feeling grateful for the support since he could have easily teleported you back to the hotel, but you gripped his arm all the same. The adrenaline dump had left you feeling so depleted and all you wanted was to be back in your bed. Snippets of what happened in the alley raced through your mind’s eye, and you shook your head, trying to keep them at bay. Did you really have the capacity to be that enraged? That violent? Apparently you did…
The blood was drying tight on your face, contrasting with the slick, heavy feeling of fabric latching to the skin of your chest. You could feel yourself winding up, overwhelmed and uncomfortable by the mess you were covered in. There wasn’t a part of you that felt clean and you were desperate with the need to remove your dress. Tears blurred the edge of your vision when you fixated on the taste in your mouth, barely managing to pull away from Alastor before you fell to your knees and vomited.
Bile, blood, and… It was the tipping point.
No longer able to hold it back, the sob you released was closer to a scream. What had you done? You couldn’t fight the images flashing in your mind; the sound of screams and flesh tearing, an airway so saturated with blood it bubbled. How it felt when your teeth punctured flesh, no easier than biting into a piece of fruit. Your mouth filling with blood… and swallowing. And that wasn’t all you had swallowed, was it?
It wasn’t until you started frantically tearing at the collar of your dress that Alastor approached from behind you, grabbing your wrists easily in his large hands.
“Now, now, that simply won’t do,” he chided cooly in your ear, radio static gone, his presence large and stable behind you. “I thought a walk might help you to calm down, but at least you managed to save this episode from prying eyes. Be a big girl now and stop crying, we’re nearly home.”
You couldn’t see through the tears as he pulled you up to your feet, his hands releasing you as soon as you were standing. A throb of pain rocked your head and you choked out a final sob, trying to steady your breath as you rubbed your burning, swollen eyes. 
Why was he being so patient with you? He had been in a good mood ever since he found you in the alley, not even bothered by the fact that the clothes you had been sent to pick up were soiled and needed to be returned to the cleaners. And how had he even found you in the first place? Was he following you? 
“Oh, my dear, you look like the stuff of nightmares!” Alastor said in his usual static, not sounding at all sorry for you. Hell, he probably meant it as a compliment. “Remind me to ask what that poor creature did to earn your wrath.”
With that, he hooked your arm again and led you up the hill.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
“What the fuck happened to you?!” Angel shouted from the bar when you entered the lobby. Husk nearly dropped the glass in his hand, but managed to recover, his face pale.
Thankfully, your audience was just the two of them. You wouldn’t have known what to do if everyone had been there to see you in this state. Dread came over you then, thinking of what it will be like to finally stand in front of a mirror. Your empty stomach churned.
“Not to worry, Angel, the blood isn’t hers. Poor thing ran into a bit of trouble running errands, but that’s all been taken care of, hasn’t it?” Alastor cooed, resting his hand on your shoulder as he peered down at you.
“Well don’t just stand there, let her get cleaned up before anyone else sees! Niffty’s gonna have a fucking fit when she finds the mess on that carpet,” Husk said to Alastor, shaking his head in exasperation. 
Alastor’s fingers dug into you at being rebuked, but you were more focused on the muted plop sounds of blood falling to the carpet from the laundry bag. Had it really just been an hour since you had picked it up? You were so tired it was hard to believe that it was still only morning.
“Yeah, don’t worry, toots. We won’t tell no one about your, uh… day out,” Angel said delicately, raising his hand with a suave smile. “Scout’s honor. Though I gotta say, I think you look fuckin’ badass. Whoever it was got what was coming to ’em.”
You huffed out a small laugh, managing to give him a weak smile before Alastor enveloped you both in shadow.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
Angel and Husk watched as you and Alastor disappeared, giving themselves a moment until they felt like it was safe enough for them to talk again.
“So… what the actual fuck, am I right?” Angel half-laughed, taking a swig from his glass. “I think she fuckin’ ate somebody.”
Husk hummed, nodding his head slightly in agreement. “Definitely not impossible. I just hope he didn’t put her up to it.”
“You really think he’d do somethin’ like that, Husk? I mean, sure, he’s been bossin’ her around but… forcin’ her to eat someone? Seems extreme.” 
Husk sighed, giving him a defeated look. Angel shook his head, eyebrow peaked in disbelief. Ignoring the phone buzzing in his pocket, he finished his drink.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
Despite how much you had been looking forward to it, it felt strange to be back in your room. Everything was the same as how you’d left it, but it almost felt like nothing here belonged to you anymore. The room was so still, quiet except for the sounds of Alastor rooting around in your ensuite bathroom. What he could possibly be looking for, you didn’t know, nor did you really care. You were so tempted to just collapse on the bed…
The shower turned on and you sighed, closing your eyes to enjoy the soothing sound it made. It was a peace short-lived, your eyes flying open when you felt fingers at the back of your neck undo the button of your collar, followed quickly by cool air against your spine as Alastor unzipped you. You stiffened and moved away, turning to face him, bringing your arms up to keep the dress from slipping off your shoulders to the floor.
The rebuttal died in your throat when he laughed, stepping towards you in your retreat.
“Testy, aren’t we? I was merely trying to help, and this is the thanks I get?” 
His eyes narrowed when you moved farther away in response. Would he ever stop toying with you? 
“Alastor, please, I’m too tired for this,” you pleaded, glancing at the bathroom behind you as you fought back a fresh wave of tears. You knew he wouldn’t like it if you started crying again. 
“Which is exactly why I’m trying to help! Surely, you aren’t insinuating that my intentions were anything but courteous?” He said it casually enough but you could feel the threat veiled underneath as he continued his way to you. “Seeing how my clothes need laundering again, I figured you’d want me to take the dress as well. It was a gift, after all.”
“I’ll take it myself,” you tried to say evenly, looking away from him. He was hovering over you now, effectively making you feel small. “And I didn’t think you were—”
He tipped your chin to look up at him and licked the pad of his thumb on his free hand. You stood frozen stiff as he used it to wipe your cheek, not daring to upset him more by pulling away. Somewhere in the back of your mind, the truth of how completely in control he was over you sunk in, killing whatever was left of the hope you had of staying under his radar. Silently, you watched as he brought his thumb back to his mouth, but your breath hitched as he sucked off the residue. The look in his eyes made you want to disappear, and you hoped the tear-streaked mess on your face was able to hide the blush now burning your cheeks.
“Sylvie… shouldn’t you be getting in the shower? Or is wasting water another bad habit of yours?” he said, voice low and face smug.
Without thinking, you jerked your face out of his hand and quickly pulled the dress off, shoving it at his chest. Before he could say another word you were in the bathroom, using all the restraint you had left not to slam the door in his face. Leaning against the door, you could hear him laughing as he made his way out of your room. Finally there was silence, and you slid to the floor with your face in your hands, swallowing against the feeling of your heart in your throat. And worse, you weren’t sure if the tightness in your chest was shame… or something else.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
Niffty was already hard at work removing the blood stains in the lobby, mumbling to herself as Alastor passed through to make his way back to Cannibal Town. Making sure to give Husk a knowing, pompous grin, and receiving a scowl in return, he walked out the hotel. Alastor couldn’t recall the last time he had enjoyed himself so much before noon. Whatever else the day had in store he couldn’t know, though it would be tough to beat.
The taste that lingered in his mouth was bordering on cruel, a gamble he wasn’t sure he had properly hedged the bet of. Regret wasn’t something Alastor felt often, if at all, and he would vehemently deny it even if he did. Was it regret he felt at tasting the blood that dried on your face? No. While the blood itself was subpar — it had come from some vile creature, after all — it had been transformed by your skin chemistry and tears, creating a flavor that was robust and surprising. Had it not been for decades of tempering his self-control, Alastor worried briefly in the back of his mind that he might have done something drastic; hence allowing himself just the one taste. And apparently doomed to savor it until opportunity presented itself. 
He couldn’t help passing by the alley as he made his way through the city, unsurprised to see that your victim was still lying there, stripped of clothes and whatever possible valuables he had possessed. It would be at least a week before he recovered from the attack. A thought passed through Alastor’s mind and his antlers grew in response to the idea, mouth curling up in a fanged, sinister grin. Passersby ran away in horror.
It wasn’t until Alastor walked into the dry cleaners that the armor of his good mood chipped. Of all the fiends in Hell, Valentino was the least of whom he ever expected to run into here. Cannibal Town wasn’t a sanctuary in the true sense, but its culture did manage to deter most of the demons Alastor deemed undesirable. A peace he was not willing to part with. Though clearly someone had tipped Valentino off about how to blend in here, as he was without his gaudy trademark robe, instead donning a shockingly respectable black suit.
Alastor had no grudge with Valentino, he simply just didn’t respect him. Getting sinners to sign themselves over to you in promise of fame was so trite. How Valentino could be proud to call himself an Overlord was a mystery, unless he was truly that shameless. Or more likely, from what Alastor had overheard Angel saying to others in passing, oblivious. Both seemed correct. While Alastor could suffer a fool, anyone who would bend under Vox’s will really wasn’t worthy of his concern or energy. 
Valentino turned at the ringing of the bell over the door, with what could only be described as a shit-eating grin as he took in the sight of The Radio Demon.
“Well fuck me, if it isn’t the big, brave hero! I thought Adam sent you to Super Hell, but I guess you would be too stubborn to die,” Valentino said haughtily, taking a drag off his cigarette. “How’s the wound, flaco?”
Internally Alastor bristled, but he maintained his facade of nonchalance. It wasn’t surprising that the Vees had found out about what happened between him and Adam. Of course it irritated him all the same, considering that the battle between the two of them wasn’t quite public knowledge. For now, all Alastor could do was keep the fact that the Vees knew in his back pocket and work on a plan of action to counteract it, should need arise.
“Wound is a bit strong, Valentino, but as they say: what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger! You’re too kind, inquiring after my health,” Alastor responded jovially, though the smile on his face was cold and menacing. “I must say, I never thought I’d see you here. I didn’t think Cannibal Town would be an ideal place for you to… scout.”
Valentino scoffed through a strained smile. “No shit. There are a lot of kinks out there, but ‘ragtime cannibal freaks’ isn’t one of them.” He paused to take another drag, continuing as he exhaled red smoke, “But this is the only place that can actually get all the stains out of my shit. Looks like I’m not alone in that department. Busy morning?” He gave a pointed look at the bloody laundry bag hanging off Alastor’s arm.
“You could say that,” Alastor teased, finally making his way up to the counter. The employee took the bag with a smile and removed the suit from its paper covering. Your dress was hanging in an armoire back in Alastor’s suite. He never intended to get it laundered. “Send my regards to Velvette. I haven’t had the chance to tell her how much I enjoyed her input at the last meeting you were apparently too busy to attend.”
Before the moth demon could say anything his cell phone rang, and Valentino answered as he gave Alastor the finger in response, opening the door to leave. “What do you mean, Donny hasn’t fucking showed up yet?!”
And then he was gone, yelling at his phone in the middle of Cannibal Town. Bold.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
When you woke up your room was dark, save for the light of a sconce near your door, the throbbing in your forehead making itself immediately known. The headache wasn’t surprising considering how much you had cried, nor was the pang of hunger you felt. You didn’t feel ready to eat anything yet though, but you definitely needed to get some water in your system.
Slowly, you got yourself out of bed, pausing for a moment to breathe through the stiffness in your body. Even when you had fled from Alastor earlier, your bathroom had never seemed as far away as it did now. It wasn’t until you were practically in front of it that you noticed the red dress hanging from your bathroom door, a note peaking out from the left pocket of the white, ruffled apron attached to its waist. It was a brief message, but impactful all the same. 
I believe red suits you best. - Alastor
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tag list: @fairyv-ice
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nerdburritos · 1 year ago
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You Taste Like The Sun
Summary: You've been invited to attend the annual noble's ball, hosted by no other than Lord Astarion Ancunìn himself. While you father was busy hunting possible husbands for you, the Lord himself couldn't keep his eyes off you. You had no idea that by the end of the night, you'd be engaged to your host - if it wasn't for one tiny detail: you've never even been kissed before. Maybe Lord Ancunìn could help you with that?
pairing: Astarion/f!Reader | Astarion/f!Tav rating: mature tags/warnings: kissing, fluff, arranged marriage word count: 2.6k read on ao3: You Taste Like The Sun
a/n: english isn't my first language so please excuse any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors!
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The ballroom was absolutely packed with noble people but what did you expect? The annual ball hosted by Lord Ancunìn was not to be missed, it was considered a huge honour to be invited at all. It was your first time attending this year, you father dragged you along with him in hopes of finally finding a possible husband for you, even though that was the last thing you wanted. You enjoyed your freedom, loved your studies and had no need for a man in your life. "They're like children!" your mother once said, but she'd been smiling while looking at your father. They were in love, you've never been, it's a feeling you've yet to experience. Most people your age with your social status were usually married to someone of equal status, love or not, before ending up alone but you've always needed something more - a real connection, trust and at least the possibility of love. The so called "suitors" your family had in mind offered none of that. You sighed, sorting out your beautiful ball gown, before you picked up another flute of champagne, making your way across the room to greet some more pople, have some small talk - it'd be considered rude not to. Before you could reach Lady Belgamour at the end of the room you felt something, or rather someone, bump into you, spilling the champagne all over your expensive dress, you mother would be furious.
"Forgive me, my Lady, how terribly rude of me!" a dark, husky voice immediatley apologized, an arm wrapped around your waist, steadying you. You looked up, it was your host, Lord Ancunìn. He was dressed in a white doublet with gold ebroidery as well as matching slacks which complimented his pale skin tone and white-greyish hair fabously. He almost looked like an angel, if it wasn't for the red eyes. A fallen angel, maybe. Your host took out a silk handkerchief, proceeding to try and clean your delicate dress and you blushed at his attention. He was an incredibly attractive man, a bachelor nontheless, the whole city was after him - young women, old women, married women, hells - even men! He pocketed his handekrchief, making eye contact with you once again. "I'm sorry about your dress, I'll cover the expense for the dry cleaner, of course." Gods, he relly had some stellar manners.
"O-oh Lord Ancunìn, this is not necessary, I did not watch where I was going, it was entirely my fault..." You studdered - of course you'd embarrass yourself in front of the most powerful and attractive man in the city.
"Nonsense, I'll take care of it. Now, I don't think we've been formerly introduced yet, I'm Lord Astarion Ancunìn and you are?" You qucikly introduced youself, bowing slightly as you've been taught, he was a Lord after all, and Astarion gently took your hand, placing a sweet kiss on top of it. "A pleasure, my Lady. I've been wondering when you would finally grace us with your presence, you father is keeping you sheltered but I can hardly blame him with a daughter as beautiful as you." Your face turned beet red at his honeyed words, which Astarion seemed to enjoy, he was quite the sweet talker. The attentions of men were not unfamiliar to you but none of them had a way with words like Astarion did. The Lord offered his arm. "May I have this dance, my Lady?" You could see your father from the distance, looking quite happy about your current situation with the Lord, he probably got his hopes up already. You linked your arm with Astarion's and followed him to the dancefloor, where he immediately settled one hand on your waist, pushing you closer to him and began to flawlessy lead you through a Waltz. He was an exceptional dancer and your heart raced being so close to him. He smelled faintly of bergamot and rosemary,a really nice and sexy combination. Truth to be told, he was everything you could wish for - handsome, polite, a great dancer and true gentleman but something inside you told you that there was more to thim that just that but what was it? Maybe he might be a freak in the sheets? You certainly hoped so and giggled. Astarion lowered his gaze, smiking slightly.
"Are my dance skills so terribly amusing?" he joked, twirling you around the dancefloor playfully, catching you in his arms again as the other guests applauded with delight. 
"Oh no, my Lord." you laughed as he spun you around. "I'm simply enjoying myself."
"I am glad to hear that such a stunning Lady is enjoying my company, I do feel very honoured." And there was that damned blush on your face again. You could simply not deal with open and honest compliments from handsome and succesful men like him apparently. But maybe it wasn't even the compliments, maybe it was just him...and he was so aware of it. A smug smirk was gracing his lips. Maybe he had a thing of riling innocent little things like you up? It didn't really matter now, did it? The Waltz came to a stop, Astarion now bowing in front of you. "It was a pleasure, my Lady. How about a stroll in the gardens to cool down a bit?" He offered his arm again with a soft smile.
"But your other guests..."
"Can very well deal without me. Please, allow me." Astarion guided you out of the ballroom into the lavish gardens, one hand around you waist once again but still keeping a respectful distance. The gardens were beautiful, decorated with more fairy lights than you could count, creating an almost magical environment with all the differend kinds of flowers blooming at this time of the year.
"What a beautiful garden." You complimented, attempting to make small talk. You were feeling quite nervous in his presence, hoping you wouldn't embarrass yourself again. Normally, you'd not give a single shit about the opinion of a man but Astarion was different somehow, even though you just met him. He was different than all of them and not just because he was richer than all of the Lords combined but because his efforts with you seemend honest, almost genuine. Or maybe it was all a very practiced act, a façade, you weren't quite sure but wasn't it all? In a world full of arranged marriages, a façade was all they could offer. 
"Thank you." He seemed quite happy with your compliment. "So, do you like flowers?" You nodded enthusiastically and started to ramble about your passion for gardening (which was unbecoming for a Lady, your maid has said) and favorite kinds of flowers. Astarion seemd intrigued - he actually listened and nodded at the right times before picking up a tiny flower, tucking it into your hair. "Beautiful." he whispered and you weren't quite sure if he meant the flower or you. You wandered further into the gardens, the noise from the palace nearly dying down and reached a small lake. "So, you father told me you're exceeing expectations in your studies?"
"Oh dear." you laughed. "My father can't help but praise me, apparently." Astarion laughed.
"It's all he does at our annual meetings. He's quite proud, you know." A warm feeling settled in your stomach, making your family proud was one of the most important things for you. You father has been working so hard after all. "And I can't blame him I mean, by the God's, look at you." he whispered. 
"I...uh...what?" you studdered, now that was really not ladylike at all, you maid would scowl you for that.
"You're breathtaking." Astarion admitted. The High Lord himself admitted that you, you of all people, were breathtaking. You had no idea how to deal with that information.
"Oh, my Lord. There are far prettier creatures out there than me." You chuckled but telling the truth. You didn't think of yourself as beautiful or smart or anything else, you were normal, average even. Your lack of self-esteem usually really bothered your mother but it was the truth after all, wasn't it?
"No." he shook his head. "They all just pretend to be." Astarion snarled. "They pretend to be pretty, while throwing on all the make up they possess. You are naturally beautiful. The way your freckles shine in the moonlight is spectacular." he whispered, taking a few steps closer to you. "You are an exceptional dancer, none of them could even compare and you have manners, you behave like a Lady while still having quite some spite..." You whole body went rigid. Shit.
"My Lord, if any of my actions have offended you..." Astarion waved you off immediately.
"Not at all, my dear. I did quite enjoy it, actually. I have no use for a wife who just serves and lives to obey, where is the fun in that? While I appreciate your perfect manners, I do hope you have a few naughty sides." He smirked while you let his words sink in. No use for a wife? Wife? Wife. Wife! Oh Gods...
"W-wife, my Lord?" you asked carefully, staring in disbelief as he pulled you closer to him.
"Why, of course. That's why you're here, isn't it? I'm sure you're aware that you father is searching for a husband for you." You huffed, of course he was, that's why he dragged you along in the first place. "Trust me, a few of his candidates shouldn't even be up for discussion, vile creatures, like they deserve you..." he snapped. "But I'm quite sad he didn't consider me." Astarion pouted palyfully, trying to ease the tension. You weren't sure if your family was in huge trouble because your father never considered him or if he was just playing with you.
"Lord Ancunìn, I am sure my father meant no harm!" you quickly explained. "We are far below your status, surely you would never consider the daughter of a simple-" He shut you up by placing a finger on your mouth.
"Don't tell me what I want." He stated calmly, pulling you flush agsinst him. "I guess your father would be more than pleased with me as your future husband." You had no idea what to say. This was not the way you imagined the night would go. "Or you could go on and marry one of the other fools if you so please." You quickly shook your head. No, never, worst nightmare. Astarion was the perfect choice, your parents would be over the moon, surely. "Well, then it's settled."
"Why do you even need a wife?" You quickly blurted out, immediately regeretting your choice of words but you couldn't help but wonder. Had he ulterior moves?
"Well, first of all it grants me, and you family, a certain political immunity. Two Lords combining forces and families is something to be considered across the realms, an alliance would be helpful for both sides and to be frank? Society expects a marriage from both of us. So why not work together, hm?" he smirked. "I don't want to marry the next decent girl. My wife should be educated in all kinds of things, well read, strong political knowledge, perfectly mannered and kind while still being herself. I don't want a doll who obeys all my commands - I want a partner, an advisor. I can see you filling that position more than anyone." That was good enough for you. You knew that if you didn't take him up for his offer, you father would quickly find someone else - someone worse. There was no better match than Lord Astarion Ancunìn, you basically won the jackpot. 
"Very well, I agree." Astarion smirked. 
"In that case, let's seal the deal as any lovers would." he commented playfully and leaned closer, tilting his head towards yours...oh my God, he was going to kiss you. You quickly put some distance between him and yourself, Astarion took a few steps back.
"Excuse me. I meant no harm, I assure you." he quickly apologized. Yes, the Lord had quite the reptutation amongst the noble women (apparently he was an exeptional lover, quite selfless) but he seemed really distraught by your refusal. Not hurt but angry at himself. Ugh, it's not like you didn't want to kiss him, there was just a tiny issue...
"I've never been kissed." you quickly blurted out, blushing with embarrasment as you stared at the ground, your heels seeming quite interesting all of a sudden. Astarion froze, then he smirked and closed the distance between you two once again. He quickly placed a gentle, warm hand on your cheek, grasping your chin with other hand, lifting our face up to meet his gaze.
"That's what this is about?" he asked gently, you nodded. Well, it's not like you had the chance to practice a lot without a proper partner. "I didn't mean to pressure you." You nodded, feeling relived. So he did care about consent - good. "I just thought a beautiful Lady like you had thousands of opportunities..." you gasped, he smirked.
"What kind of Lady do you take me for? A common harlot?" Astarion laughed, and what a beautiful sound it was. 
"Oh no, my love, absolutely not but men are vile creatures so please do forgive me." You chuckled, still in his arms as he gazed down at you almost lovingly. "Sooooo, about that kiss..."
"You scoundrel!" You giggled as you playfully pushed him, he seemed to enjoy teasing you. "But I guess I can indulge you? It might not be good..." you warned, your heart already racing, you'd probably make a fool out of yourself in a few seconds. He had all this experience and you didn't...
"Nonsense!" he took your face in both hands, gently stroking your cheeks with his thumbs and placed a gentle but long peck on your lips - nothing more. A sweet, gentle kiss without any intentions but full of adoration and respect. You gasped as he pulled back, the Lord looking quite smug already. "How was that?" Astarion asked as you touched your lips. 
"Really nice." you admitted. Nice? It felt incredible. His lips were so soft, the pressure was perfect, this man made your knees weak. You wanted more. 
You leaned forward slightly, placing another gentle kiss to his lips as he gave you a reassuring smile and pulled you closer to him, not allowing you to part, keeping your lips pressed together. He let out a husky chuckle against your lips as he finally took a tiny step back. You already missed the feeling of his lips pressed against yours, he was addicting.
"Want some more?" Astarion whispered and you eagerly nodded. This little..tryst in the depths of his garden was highly uncalled for but you didn't even care anymore. He pressed a series of quick pecks on your lips, making you gasp before catching your bottom lip between his and sucking. You moaned, he immediately turned the innocent pecks into a full-blown open mouth kiss as you mimicked his actions, kissing him deeply for a few seconds before you felt something warm and wet enter your mouth. His tongue. You froze but Astarion rubbed small circles into your lower back, helping you relax as you let his tongue enter your mouth. It felt weird but somehow good. Gods, you couldnt believe this. This morning you were just an ordinary woman and now, not even 12 hours later, you were engaged and snogging Lord Ancunìn. You felt Astarion move, he pressed you against a nearby tree, caging you in with his strong arms as he continued to kiss you sensually. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and he let out a gentle moan, which turned you on tremendously. You parted, both gasping for air.
"You taste wonderful, my love." he murmured before leaning in again, brushing his lips softly against yours. "I can't help myself but get lost in you."
You blushed at his sweet words, maybe this whole marriage thing wouldn't end so bad after all?
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octuscle · 1 year ago
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I’d like to know if you could help me! I want to be a professional open bodybuilder (just like Nick Walker, Derek Lunsford), but, at the same rate my muscles grow, so do my male musk (specifically sweat musk from my armpits and cock) - no shower, deodorant or anything else will clean/cover my strong smell - until the point people around me get dizzy with my musk, start to complain and ask me to leave the places. With more muscles and less body fat, more sweating and musk until it reaches a strong level that people start to avoid me from fear of my muscles and my intense gym musk! Could you help me with that? Thanks a lot!
It's always the same people who are unhappy. You're rich, you've inherited, you don't have to work. You look dazzling, you know the right people, you're always invited to the best parties. And you don't feel like it anymore? You want to change that? Do I have a free hand? Then I'll get started!
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You're sitting with a few friends in your favorite bar and tell them about your plan. More out of politeness than anything else, everyone says it sounds very exciting. You loosen your tie knot and undo the top button of your shirt. Phew, that's how you get your breath back. But you still need some fresh air, it's too crowded and stuffy in here. And somehow you don't feel like going back to the sissies. You feel more like going home, maybe doing a few more press-ups and then going to bed. After a few steps, you take a deep breath. And the top button of your shirt is blown off your chest like a projectile. The seams of your suit trousers are dangerously taut.
In the stairwell of the magnificent old building next to the city park where you live, the first seams crack. Thank God you don't meet anyone. By the time you get back to your apartment, your slim-fit tailored suit is in tatters. Somehow you're not even surprised. You tear off what's left of your clothes and stuff everything into the garbage can. Even your underpants no longer fit properly and are thrown away. You go naked to your dressing room and do a few push-ups, then squats, then a round of sit-ups until you're drenched in sweat. You stand in front of the mirror. Yes, you've gone through a growth spurt. And you stink. Sweat and musk. Delicious. But you still take a shower. The towel smells awful after drying off. And you don't feel a bit cleaner.
When you wake up the next morning, your cleaning lady has opened all the windows and is airing out the apartment. When she hears your footsteps on the way to the bathroom, she comes around the corner and is about to ask you where this unpleasant smell is coming from. You almost collide. You are still naked, scratching your hairy balls while still half asleep. Your cleaning lady turns bright red with fright. Then she holds her nose. You smell your armpit and say with a grin, "Excuse me, Maria, I'd better go and have a shower". In the bathroom, the laundry basket smells like a football team's changing room. You jump in the shower, but it doesn't seem to do any good this morning either. Damn, you might as well go to your workout. At least everyone there smells of sweat.
Damn, that was a really good workout. You pose in front of the mirror. Your sweaty tank top on the floor. During the workout you were incredibly focused on the weights, only now do you realize how disgusted the other customers are looking at you
You check your reflection again. Holy shit, you look really good, what's wrong with them all? Probably just jealous. You pick up your tank top from the floor. Somehow it smells a bit. You hold it up to your nose. Yes, it's sweat and musk. Maybe a little intense. You love it. The smell makes your cock hard. The sweat stains on your sweatpants are joined by precum stains. You need to take a shower now. And wank.
When you check out, the receptionist looks at you in disgust. He puts some ointment under his nose and puts on a face mask. He informs you that the studio requires a minimum level of personal hygiene from its customers. Several customers have already complained. He asks you to come showered and with fresh clothes next time.
Yes, you smell bad despite the shower. You walk back home because you don't feel like complaining again on the subway. Normally a pleasant walk. But for one thing, your legs are really exhausted from training. On the other hand, you feel that you easily weigh 20 pounds more than you did yesterday. You look in the mirror of a shop window as you pass by. Fuck, yeah! You see the reflection of a serious amateur bodybuilder.
You're too exhausted to climb the stairs to your apartment. You get into the elevator. Mrs. Spencer from the floor below you shouts for you to hold the elevator and barely slips through the closing door with her daughter. She holds her nose in disgust. And her daughter, perhaps four years old, asks why the big man smells so bad. Phew, the elevator isn't big anyway. Today it feels even narrower.
That was all a few weeks ago now. You left your impressive apartment because the stuffy neighbors were getting on your nerves. The nagging was unbearable. You thought that the cheap apartment building where you were staying temporarily was really just a temporary solution. But there are a lot of guys living here who are like you: fuck the opinions of others, the main thing is that you grow up. Really big! When you walk through the front door, you take a deep breath. It must have smelled something like this in a Neanderthal cave.
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Since you've been banned from your hairdresser, you cut your hair yourself. You like it, it looks even more brutal and masculine. Even in your hardcore gym, your stench stands out. But here the other musclemen envy you for it. Hehehe, and there's always someone who will even pay money to press his face into your armpit or suck your cheesy cock. Your life is great!
Pics found @antoinepaul and @maxx-magnum
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the--blackdahlia · 2 months ago
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Title: Do Not Distrub (Michael Keaton x Reader)
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Title: Do Not Disturb
Summary: It starts at an airport bar
Warnings: Unprotected sex, poorly written smut
Gif by @liquidloz, who this fic is a gift for
You sat at the airport bar, deep bass music covering up the conversations around you. You had a Dirty Shirley in front of you, drips of water soaking the napkin it sat on. You could feel eyes on you, taking in that tight black dress you had slipped yourself into. You plucked a cherry out of the glass and slid it between your teeth as he walked up to you. Dressed in black on black, his blue eyes stared you down as you pulled the stem off the cherry and glanced his way.
“I’ve been watching you, sitting here, all alone,” He spoke low, his fingers ghosting down your bare arm, sending shivers down your spine. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”
“I’ve got a plane to catch.”
“And when’s that?”
“Not until the morning,” She saw the smirk on his face.
“Maybe I could help you pass the time,” he said, sliding his room key towards you. “What do you say?”
“Lead the way.”
He threw some money onto the bar to pay for your drink before the two of you left and headed to the airport hotel. You two took the elevator to the upper floor where the suites were. He led you down the hallway, unlocked the door, and let you in. Once you heard the door closed, you felt yourself being pulled back and pressed against it.
“You looked so pretty sitting there all by yourself,” His voice was a low growl. “Just begging for someone to come along and take you.”
“Maybe I was waiting for one specific person,” you said with a smirk. He picked you up and pinned you between the door and himself. Your shoes fell to the floor, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You could feel him pressed against you, aching to be out of his pants and inside of you.
“Glad it was me,” He carried you over to the king-size bed in the middle of the room and threw you onto it. You bounced on it, but never took your eyes off of him.
“God, you’re handsome,” You purred, making him smirk at you as he took off his belt.
“Please, call me Michael,” You bit your lip and watched him unbutton his pants and pull them down just enough to let himself out. He climbed onto the bed, pushing up the dress you were wearing before going to your underwear. As much as he wanted to rip them off, he went in another direction, grabbing them with his teeth and pulling them down your legs. You were exposed to him. He didn’t want to wait for you both to undress. He needed you now. And he made that known when he barely waited to push his thick cock into your waiting and wet pussy.
“Fuck, yes!” You arched your back, pressing against his hard chest. You wrapped your legs around him, your feet pressed against his ass, urging him on. His thrusts were deep, powerful, and full of lust. From how wet you were, just from this little bit, you knew that there would be a spot on the bed. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as he drove deeper into you.
“Such a good girl for me.”
“Yes, daddy!” You felt his lips press against your neck. His teeth grazed on that spot that always got a reaction from you. “Mike, I'm close.”
“Mmm cum for me darlin’.” He purred in your ear. “We've got all night.”
You did not have to be told twice as you came around his cock, tightening to help him cum in you. It only took a few more thrusts before he did just that, collapsing on top of you to breathe you in. 
“I think this was one of your better foreplay ideas,” you laughed when he rolled off to lay next to you.
“Yeah?” Michael smiled and kissed you. “Can't wait to get the awkward looks from the dry cleaner for my pants.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. I think this is exactly what we needed,” He leaned over and kissed you gently. “We should probably get some sleep. We do have a plane to catch in the morning.”
“Maybe we could join the mile-high club,” You giggled, then noticed the dark look in his eyes and that shit-eating grin. “Mike, I’m kidding.”
“Well, we’ll just see what tomorrow holds.” He pulled you close to his chest, both of you laying there in the clothes you had been wearing, not bothering to change.
28 notes · View notes
ellethespaceunicorn · 10 months ago
Note
Helllooooo!!! I hope you're having a good day!! 💕💜✨
Can I submit a prompt where Lloyd calls in his normally mousey assistant on one of her off days and is blown back by her casual attire? Maybe she's on her way out of hang with the girls and she's got her hottie/freekum dress/attire on.
Bonus if she is as completely I bothered as she normally is and even teases him a bit for his audacity 😈😈
I appreciate you're brain and the time you spend sharing it with us!! ☺️💕💜
Hi nonny!! So sorry this took so long, but here it is! And just as a warning, this one is a doozy and I will not be earning bonus points based on your ask.
Is getting negative points a thing?? (Because this thing went off the rails...)
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Title: Power Play: After Hours
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Assistant!Black!Reader
Word Count: 3.1K
Summary: What happens when Lloyd sees you, his assistant, in something other than what you usually wear? Well, you should be worried about what he does when he sees you.
Warnings: horrible boss Lloyd, pet name (Mouse), power imbalance, multiple threats of violence, non-con, forced oral sex (f receiving), slight dacryphilia, forced hand job (m receiving), dub-con p-in-v intercourse, vaginal creampie, forced oral sex (m receiving), oral creampie, dead dove: do not eat
A/N: I apologize to nonny who asked for something (I think) completely different. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.
Dividers by: @saradika
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
My Masterlist
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You’re at home getting ready to go out with the girls. It has been ages since you had a free night to let your hair down. But tonight was the night. 
You made sure to ditch the wool sweaters, drab colors, and sensible shoes that you usually wear to work. Instead, you opt for a form-fitting pinstripe dress that ends just above your knee. Large hoop earrings push through your hair and demand attention. Your feet are covered in strappy heels that are cuter than they are comfortable.
But beauty is pain, no?
Just as you are exiting your apartment and entering your car, your phone buzzes. You pull your phone from your purse and growl at the text message from your boss.
Your boss, your reason for migraine medication, the bane of your existence. Lloyd Hansen. Getting an internship with Hansen Government Service was supposed to be a summer gig to help you pay for odds and ends during your last year at college. But no, you had to go ahead and impress the CEO with your problem-solving and the way you covered your former boss’ ass one too many times. 
And now here you are, the personal assistant to this deplorable caricature of a human being. Amazing vision and dental benefits aside, you were the glorified babysitter to a sociopath with an inferiority complex. But you keep your mouth shut and your head down because you know where your bread is buttered.
The text from Lloyd is still sitting in your inbox unread one minute later when your phone starts to ring. You were hoping he would think you were asleep or something, but you remember Lloyd doesn’t observe normal business hours. And he doesn’t give a shit if you have a day off either.
“Yes, Sir,” you answer with Lloyd’s preferred moniker.
“Why didn’t you answer my text?” he asks, his annoyed tone unmistakable.
“I apologize for not being available to you, Sir. What can I help you with?” you acknowledge, wanting him to get to his point of bothering you.
“Hmmm. I’m gonna ignore you being rudely polite. For now. Need you to get my dry cleaning, Mouse,” he advises, using that nickname that boils your blood.
“Sir. It’s almost 9 p.m. Are the dry cleaners still open?” you wonder aloud.
“I called them, and they agreed to re-open so that I could get my shirts. Wasn’t that nice of them? You don’t wanna keep that sweet old lady waiting this late at night, do you?” he persuades, a sinister chuckle sending a chill down your spine.
“I will pick up your shirts for you, Sir,” you question.
“Had to pull a late night at the office, but I’m leaving now. Meet me at my place, Mouse,” he replies.
“Yes, Sir,” you say, holding back the urge to scream in his ear and ending the call. 
By being at the office, he is within walking distance of the shop where his clothing is being held. 
Deep breaths. Don’t let him take your joy.
You pass your office building and veer into the small shopping center. Stepping into the shop, you realize you don’t have a ticket, but you also know that the place is staying open for only one reason.
“You here to pick up Hansen?” The old woman behind the counter smiles at you and you nod stepping over to her, “Very particular, that one. Don’t let him work you too hard, honey.” 
“Oh, thank you,” you greet, smiling when she handed over the hangers of shirts covered in plastic material, “May I just apologize for him keeping you open past your hours?”
Before you can apologize, the sweet woman comes around the counter and pats your hand.
“How long are you going to apologize for him? Just go home, honey. And good luck with that one,” she reasons, and she scoots you out of the store before you can tell her that you’re only his assistant, not his long-suffering wife.
You give up trying to explain yourself and turn around to get back in your car. With the shirts hung in the back seat, you speed until you get to Lloyd’s gated community. Pushing in the code to the outer gate, you squirm in your seat as the gate slowly opens.
Driving through streets with pretentious names, you end up at the cul-de-sac where his McMansion sits center-stage among the other Stepford homes. You park next to his vehicle in the spacious driveway, a BMW M8 Competition Convertible in Alpine White. Not a scratch on her sparkling surface.
You stuff down the urge to put a scratch on his car because he will notice it. He notices everything. And with the level of neat freak that he is, he probably would notice a single fingerprint on the car’s hood.
Walking up to the door, you see the Ring camera and press the doorbell. The porch light comes on and the door opens to reveal your boss talking on the phone with one earbud in his ear. He pauses and looks you up and down before letting you walk in around him.
“I’m gonna have to go, something just came up,” he purrs, adjusting himself in the two seconds you were looking away from him. He pulls out his earbud, ending the call and turning his attention to you, “Mouse, glad you could make it, but you didn’t have to dress up for me.”
“I didn’t. Here are your shirts. Can I help you with anything else, Sir?” you explain, holding his dry cleaning out so he can take them. 
Once he reaches out, he bypasses the shirts, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him. “Maybe there is one thing you can do for me, Mouse. It is quite a big job though,” he dares, ghosting his thumb over your pulse point.
“Hmmm. Sir, I didn’t come all this way to do whatever it is you think you’re doing,” you warn, putting your hand on his chest to push him away as you feel his increased heart rate. 
His eyes are dark, with barely any blue left in the iris. You can almost feel how hungry he is for you.
“Well, I was gonna say I wouldn’t mind a blowjob from those perfect glossy lips. But I think I wanna hear your mouth moan for me while I eat that pretty pussy instead,” he admits, taking the shirts out of your hand before hoisting you over his shoulder.
“Sir! No! Put me down, you fucking psycho. What are you doing?” you demand, pounding your hands on his back and landing a harsh blow directly to his ass.
“Fuck, Mouse! Hands to yourself, or I won’t keep my hands to myself, ok?” he cautions, surprising you with a hard slap to your ass, “And you got that wrong anyway, I’m technically a sociopath, not a psychopath.”
You’re in a state of stunned silence as he walks up the grand staircase in the room and brings you into a bedroom down the hall. You don’t have time to wonder what all of the other rooms are used for as you are dumped on his bed. The silk sheets underneath you are comfortable, but they seem creepy once you think about being thrown down on top of them. Before you can scramble off of the bed, Lloyd grabs you by the hips and traps you under his weight. 
“Mouse, mouse, mouse. Why don’t you ever dress like this for me?” he breathes, his clothed erection nestled against your hip, “You wearing this for some asshole? Should call him up and tell him I got to you first.”
“Sir, please. I was just going to hang out with my girls. I promise I won’t say anything about this if you just let me go,” you whimper, your hands going to his chest again trying to push him away.
He grabs your wrists and pins them to the bed. His nose takes in your RiRi perfume as it glides along your neck. Kicking your legs open, he nestles himself in between so he can rock his hips into you. Feeling his hardening dick against your panties as your dress rides up, he groans as he feels the heat coming off of you.
“Kinda funny you want me to let you go. But I bet if I dipped a finger into that cute snatch I know you have, I would find a little honey pot full of delicious sweetness waiting for me. Shall I test that out?” he counters. Holding both wrists in one giant hand as he trails a hand down your body until it disappears between you.
You feel his bruising fingers pushing your panties out of the way to find his prize. His touch turns almost delicate as the tips of his fingers find your wet pussy; your body’s betrayal is evident in the puddle forming on your netherlips. The look in his eyes when he finds what he’s looking for is bordering on sheer joy.
“There it is, Mouse. Just like I knew it would be,” he beams, pulling two fingers coated in your essence to his mouth and sucking them clean, “Fuck. I knew it would be delicious. You’re gonna sit on my face and give me all your sweet cream.”
He rolls your body over so that you are straddling him. You debate trying to scramble off of him, but he pinches your thigh and brings you back to the task at hand. You crawl up his body and hover over his face until he locks his arms around your thighs and pulls you down over his eager mouth.
Looking down at him, he looks serene with his eyes closed as he goes to work on your sensitive folds. For a while, you feel nothing when he licks up your slit. Circling your nub with his tongue, he moans when your clit twitches. When kitten licks against your clit turn to sucking it into his mouth, you can’t restrain the urge to grab a handful of his hair.
If he wants to hear you moan pretty for him, he’s gonna need to do better than this. You grind your pussy into his tongue and sigh when he sticks his tongue directly into your hole. Fucking into you with his tongue is the straw that breaks the camel’s back.
You tighten your fingers in his auburn hair, unable to hold back your orgasm for much longer. Visions of all the times he looked at you like you were a piece of meat flash before your eyes. The way all of his other assistants quit the job after short stints. And you just about gift-wrapped yourself for him tonight.
You should have never answered the phone. But it’s kind of hard to think about that now with the way your resolve is slowly slipping away. You feel the metaphorical rubber band being stretched to within an inch of its life. Until pop!
The wave of your climax washes over you like a warm blanket. Your keening whine is music to Lloyd’s ears as he holds you tighter when you try and extricate yourself from his grasp. He laps up everything you have to give him and makes obscene sucking and licking noises. Once he lets up on your pussy, he lets your weak body roll to the side on its own. You don’t notice you are crying until he licks away one tear.
He looks down at you as he wipes his mustache clean of your juices. “Every part of you tastes amazing, Mouse. Even your tears. Fuck, that’s so hot I got you crying for me,” he hums, wiping away your tears with a thumb as he lays next to your limp body.
You’re quiet as you lay in your boss’ bed, him having just defiled your body with his tongue. Not knowing what to think, your brain just replays everything trying to find where you went so wrong. Because not only was that an Earth-shattering orgasm but it was given to you by your boss. That kind of thing is frowned upon in most companies. But Lloyd is the CEO, are the rules different? You don’t have the time to keep thinking when Lloyd chimes in.
“Now, Mouse, I’m sure your brain is going a mile a minute. But let me make one thing clear: I am going to need you to come into work dressed just like this from now on. You wear something tight, something that shows off this body, something that I can pull up or down and fuck you in while we’re in the office,” he chuckles as you look over to him with tears in your eyes at your new fate, “We’ll put that into your contract. What do you think? From Personal Assistant to Fuck Toy. That’s a step up, huh?”
You say nothing, content to shed tears and wish that the Earth would open up and swallow you.
“Don’t be so gloomy. At least you got to come, unlike some of us. You can help me with that, can’t you Mouse?” he pleads, as if he didn’t just change your job title to fit your new duties. He unzips his pants, pulling out his thick length and reaching for your hand to wrap around it, “I won’t need much help. I could’ve blown in my pants like a fucking teenager when you came in my mouth.”
You wish his mouth would just fucking stop. You don’t need the commentary. You unenthusiastically jerk him off until he spills rope after rope of jizz painting your hand and his pants. At least he was right, he didn’t need much help. 
“Good fucking job, Mouse,” he gushes, throwing an arm over his brow as he catches his breath, “Can’t wait to take that cunt for a test drive but I can wait until my balls are not so fucking empty. Go clean yourself up in the bathroom.”
You rise and walk into the attached bathroom all without a single thought in your head. You use the toilet, wash your hands, and splash water on your face. You avoid the mirror like the plague.
Coming back to the bedroom, you are greeted by Lloyd lying on his side and crooking a finger at you. You swallow your spit and take a deep breath, moving to join him on the bed. 
Once there, you let him manhandle you in every position he wants. You close your eyes, wishing you were somewhere else. Until he has you on your back. He makes you stare into his eyes as he fucks you like the little puppet you are. When he takes you over the edge again, he doesn’t stop his onslaught until you beg him to stop.
But begging only drives him to go harder. Flesh slapping against flesh painfully until he pushes himself deep within you and stills. Every twitch and spurt felt inside of you like a slap to the face. You’re not on birth control and you fear asking if he is snipped but he speaks up before you can ask.
“I pay you enough to afford the morning-after pill, right?” he asks, his dick softening and sliding out of you.
Fucking asshole. The thought of murder crosses your mind more than once, but you know people might come looking for him. And the thought of having to trade in your freedom for a life behind bars makes you rethink killing this nutcase.
So, instead, you just say, “Yes, Sir.”
“Right. Good. Alright, well it’s not too late for you to go out with your friends. Don’t stay out too late, you have work in the morning. Bright and early, Mouse. I expect you to be there tomorrow,” he remarks, acting like he didn’t just use your body for his sick pleasure, “That means you’re good to go home now, Mouse. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He gets off you, climbing off the bed and adjusting himself, pulling you up and escorting you to the front door. He all but pushes you out of the door into the night, as if you were trash. When you get back inside your car, your phone has tons of messages from your friends wondering where you are.
You send a mass text that you weren’t feeling well, and you needed rest. It wasn’t entirely untrue anyway. You make it back home, shedding your clothes as you walk to your bedroom. You pull back the covers and wrap yourself in warmth, willing the events of the night to just go away. But they don’t go away.
The next morning, you shower and dress like Lloyd wants. The looks of your coworkers cause heat to rise to your face. You don’t usually get this type of attention. Or any attention when you think about it. 
When you get to Lloyd’s office, he is sitting behind his desk on a call, and he waves you over. You walk around his desk and see his pants are already unbuttoned and his half-chub is sticking out. You spare yourself the embarrassment of being asked and go right to work on him with your hands. Unsurprised when he puts a hand on the back of your head, you just lower yourself and take him in your mouth.
Little does he know; your head game is strong. And within about three minutes, you have him spasming down your throat. His softening cock is sensitive as you tease him by swirling your tongue around the head. He ends his phone call and holds your face in his hands.
“What’s my soul taste like, Mouse? I’m sure you sucked it right out,” he praises, his dazed eyes focusing on you while he catches his breath.
“If you had a soul, I’m sure it would taste as bitter as your cum,” you snap, uncaring of whether or not he was offended.
“Good point. Watch that pretty mouth, though. My precious feelings might get hurt. And then you might get hurt. So, play nice, Mouse,” he cautions, lightly clapping his hand against your cheek, just hard enough to jerk you out of misbehaving.
“Yes, Sir,” you sass, putting on a fake smile and Lloyd rolls his eyes, shooing you away.
You can do what he says, doesn’t mean you have to make it easy for him in the slightest. And isn’t that the best way to get back at him? Give him everything he wants but with no enthusiasm. Of course, you know this little plan of yours won’t last long. But when you’re faced with a demon like Lloyd Hansen, you’ll take any little victory you can. As few and far between as they may be.
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A/N: This got way out of hand. I don’t know what happened. Um, I’m not sorry though. Because I love this and if it ends up being just for me, then so be it.
**Tag List**
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Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁
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astayinwonderland · 1 year ago
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Silk and Fire - Chapter 1
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Read more about the series and find updates here (;
pairing: namjoon x f.reader x jungkook
guest starring: jin, yoongi, hoseok
genre: romance | drama | smut +18 MDNI
summary: it's your best friend's engagement party and you agree to meet everyone at the venue. however, you end up running late and in danger. fortunately, someone's there to offer a helping hand... or hands.
status: ongoing
warnings: mentions of anxiety
wc: 1.7k words
a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨
do not copy or translate
“Babe, you’ll look amazing no matter what you wear,” Namjoon puts his book down to look at you. “I love that dress on you,” he smiles, dimples showing. 
“You’ve said the same thing about the last six outfits I’ve tried on,” you laugh. 
“I am just being honest”. 
Namjoon leaves his comfy reading chair and walks over to your figure. You stand in front of the mirror and stand on your tippy toes mimicking how you would look in heels. Strong arms hug you from behind, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. Namjoon has been quite busy with work lately and in moments like this he wishes he could whisk you away and take you somewhere secluded, nice, romantic, where only the two of you existed. But alas, this wasn’t that day. 
In a couple of hours, you two would be at your best friend’s engagement party, who would have thought she would be the marrying kind after all? Everyone would be there, including the one friend you have never met in person. You are quite excited to meet him finally, he has been travelling around the world for the past year, and in your eight months of dating Namjoon, all the group of friends can talk about is how much they miss their group of 7. 
“You smell so good, you always do,” Namjoon whispers and plants a kiss on your soft skin. 
You run your fingers through his hair in an attempt to make time go still, but your eyes catch the clock by your nightstand and you jump. 
“Fuck, Joon! Look at the time. I have to go to the salon, the dry cleaners, go get my shoes…” 
Namjoon laughs at the way you rush around your shared house, he asked you to move in while you celebrated your 7th month together. The question came abruptly out of his mouth, but it felt right. He knew you were very special from the moment he laid eyes on you. Your looks are breathtaking for sure, but Namjoon felt an intense attraction to you because of your energy and intellect. You are sharp and smart, in a very different way than he is, and that makes him head over heels for you. 
“Alright, alright… Sure you don’t want me to pick you up and get there together?” 
“The salon is right across the venue, I’ll walk there once I’m done. Don’t worry, love,” you smile at him. 
You should have listened to your boyfriend. You should have. Honestly, at least if he were here, you would not feel this stress. It is 7:30 p.m., and you should already be at the venue calming your best friend’s nerves. You are the maid of honour after all. But things went south from the moment the dry cleaners didn’t have your dress ready and you were far behind with your hair. 
“Please just do whatever… the easiest thing. Anything! I really need to go,” you beg at the stylist, and even though she does try, your anxiety isn’t going anywhere. 
By the time you finish, it’s 8:02 p.m. Your bestie sends you text after text. 
Where the fuck are you? 
Are you close? 
Hello!???? 
I’m freaking out please, are you ok? 
You feel too guilty and anxious to give a full explanation so you just text her one sentence. 
I’ll be there in 5. 
You quickly make your way out of the salon and cross the street. The night is a bit cold and windy, your cheeks hurt a little from the cool air brushing against your face. You run in your heels praying you don’t twist your ankle. As you try to look for your lipstick in your clutch, you find yourself already a few steps away from the hotel door. The revolving door activates as you step in but it stops, leaving a small space open between the glass and the entrance. 
“Fuck!” you bang on the door to try and move it, but nothing happens. 
A muffled voice comes from the outside. You turn around to find a cheeky smile, lip piercing, and big doe eyes looking right into yours. 
“What?” your voice is louder than usual since you can’t hear him properly. 
His face now comes closer to the reduced space between the glass and the entrance. 
“You need to step back.” 
You try to move but it seems pointless and your anxiety peaks when it dawns on you that you may be trapped here for a long time. Your breath is heavy and your palms start to sweat. Hell, your vision is blurry. The man watches you lose it in a matter of seconds, and he would be damned if he didn’t do something about it. Somehow, his large frame squeezed through the little space left, catching you before you fell to your knees. 
“Darling, if you are going to get on your knees for me it better not be like this.” 
You try to focus your eyes on the man that helps you stand. Your face leaning against his crisp white shirt, makeup transferring a little bit onto it. 
“Are you okay?” 
And now you get a closer look. His long dark hair falls graciously on his forehead and temples, the rest of it framing his beautiful face. It is a mystery how he squeezed in with those broad shoulders and big arms. Those same arms holding you in place. 
“Breathe,” he gives you a warm smile.
So you breathe and try to pull yourself together, but his hands reach your waist and pull you against him. A gasp leaves your lips. 
“See?” he points at a tiny red dot near the door. “That’s a sensor, if you stand up too close you might get stuck. You just need to move a little bit–” and he pulls you even closer to him, his hips slightly gracing your body. “--back,” and that does the trick. 
Finally the door moves. Just as hotel employees are coming to your rescue. 
“It’s okay, I'm fine!” you yell running to the elevator. 
The man calmly walks after you and watches you desperately run. 
“Thank you!” you yell. 
Elegance. Poise. Charm. Love. 
You find yourself in a small but beautiful space where ivory and gold decorate the room and the chandeliers shimmered light delicately down to the guests. You spot your best friend and her fiancé across the room. Luckily your little meltdown didn’t completely ruin your hair, so you make your way in saying your polite ‘hellos’ and hoping she doesn’t kill you for being this late. 
“You look beautiful,” you hug her. 
“What the fuck happened?” you can see worry in her eyes. 
“The question is, what didn’t happen? Everything went wrong today, I’ll tell you later.” 
“She was about to call the police and put together a search party in order to find you.” 
You look at the man who your best friend decided to marry. Min Yoongi is no ordinary man. He is respectable, admirable, handsome, and the most important thing, he is husband material and perfect for Camille. He loves her dearly, erasing past traumas and filling her with acceptance and reassurance. You couldn’t be happier for them. 
“I was not going to call the police, Yoongi,” she rolls her eyes. 
“Yes she was,” he gives her the fondest of smiles and kisses her temple. His PDA is rare, but when it happens it is from the heart and that makes you long for the perfect man for you. 
“Where is he?” you say scanning the room, and then your eyes meet his. “Please excuse me for a minute…” 
Namjoon smiles as he sees you. Black shirt neatly tucked into his gray pants. His black hair parted to the side. He makes his way to you and you to him, meeting him in a tight embrace that seems to cure all your anxiety. 
“I’m glad you’re finally here,” he gives you a peck on the lips. “Missed you,” 
“And I missed you too!” even though you don’t see him you know it’s Hoseok behind you. You give him a tight hug. To be honest you missed hanging with Namjoon’s friends as well. They bring a certain spark to all gatherings that is hard to match. 
Namjoon gives you a quizzical look. 
“The dry cleaners didn’t have the dress ready on time, then my hair appointment was delayed an hour and a half, and on top of everything I got stuck in the stupid revolving doors,” 
“No way…” and the most boisterous laugh you’ve ever heard in your life comes from one of the most handsome faces you’ve seen in your life. 
“It did happen, Jin,” 
“If it was going to happen to someone it had to happen to you,” he sweetly kissed both of your cheeks. 
“Have you seen Jungkook yet?” Hoseok asks, elegantly holding a champagne flute. 
“Oh is he here yet?” you ask intrigued, excited even. 
“You know he likes a big entrance,” Jin adds. 
Namjoon then offers to get you a drink which you accept. You stay with Jin and Hoseok making casual conversation, but you spot your saviour in the small crowd. What is ‘revolving door guy’ doing here? You excuse yourself and make your way to him, saying hello to Camille’s family as you cross the room. His doe eyes open wide and his lips curve in a smile. 
“You are here,” he says. 
“Yes. Why are you here? Are you following me or something?” you whisper, confused. 
“Maybe I am,” he smirks and takes a sip of his neat whiskey. 
“I’m okay, no need to check on me,” you do your best to smile and reassure him you are doing just fine.  “Thank you, again.” 
“Okay… I won’t check on you, but I will check you out,” and there’s that cheeky smile again.
Shock. 
“Excuse me?” 
“There you are!” Namjoon hands you a glass of white wine and puts his hand around your waist. “Ah! I see you finally met each other.” 
Your eyes go from your man to ‘revolving door guy’ and back to your man. 
“Babe, this is Jeon Jungkook.”
140 notes · View notes
onyourhyuck · 2 years ago
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His Healer. | S.JH
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— Prologue: “Maybe in my next life I can see you and the world in all the seven colours.”
— Summary: Prince Johnny has an eye condition allowing him to only see black and white. You’re the new maid arrange to clean his chambers you found out his secret illness.
— Genre: Prince!johnny. Royal romance + smut. Maid + prince trope. Super angsty to be honest, this is kinda sad and depressing story.
— Notes:
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The news of a new job becoming open spread fast in your village which made you act on your time. Everyone would die to have a job in the palace where the people work there in luxury. It felt like the best work offer there.
Lucky for you, you ended up becoming recruited fitting to the palace description and the needs they were looking for in a young woman like you. To become a Maid.
Not just any maid however, a maid for the prince. Every royalty has their own section of the palace that belongs to them; they have their own court, where nobles who are friends with those royalties will attend to play games, chat away about god knows what gossip and get self made tea from the maids. For you it was the prince. You were assigned under his name even though he hasn’t quite picked you, the king and the queen thought of you suitable.
They trusted a young girl like you who’s had a pretty face but also a determined outlook to be loyal to your job only. So they set you out to have your very first job to clean the Prince’s chambers where he sleeps. You didn’t think much of it because you heard the prince was out so it’s not like you’re going to get caught cleaning up the living hell’s mess he has on the freaking floor; the clothes were not even his some of them were bunch of dresses belonging to noble ladies. It was an unsatisfying experience picking up the clothes folding them under your hands and then proceeding to grab the hem of the many duvet layers they had on the giant king size bed. You swore this bed was bigger in real life than you could imagine.
Lifting the duvet’s embroidered on the bed puffing them out you crawl on the bed on all fours to go get the pillows. You begin fixing them puffing the material out making them bounce and thick once more. You wouldn’t want the prince to get a stiff neck by having the pillows be uneven and disturbing. Your hands crawl to the front hem of the duvet pushing them into the mattress making it look neater and cleaner giving it a slick texture. Later you came to the night stands were your eyes glimpse of two folded papers revealing names to the assuaged colours you couldn’t help but wonder why did the prince have that? But the minute you’d turn around you saw the door to the left open wide revealing the prince coming out of the bath chamber where a singular large bathtub was with foaming smoke behind him, it was a hot bath because the minute you saw him coming out while you’re on his bed on all fours — he was a smoking silhouette.
Your jaw came undone gaping at the bottom sight of the pelvis growing out into the many abs he has. The only thing covering him was a robe underneath the waist making sure it doesn’t slip out while the other towel was gently ruffling out the hair side to side to dry it quicker. Johnny’s stare went from being there to staring you down on the bed watching your maid dress guessing who you could be, it wasn’t hard to guess, you were doing maid duties. But the position you were in while on his bed made him snicker thinking otherwise.
He definitely came out at the wrong time.
Johnny saw you quickly get off the bed and look down bowing at him to pay a respectful image and apology to the noble man in front of you.
“Your highness. I’m sorry I was just… cleaning your chambers. I wasn’t aware you were here.” You bite your lips together sealing them tight like they were an envelope.
Johnny raised his eyes coming forward chuckling he found you surprisingly amusing and he hasn’t met you yet. He knows every maid of his but you must be new because if you weren’t he’d remember your pretty face that’s for sure.
“It’s quite alright I’d think you were doing your absolute best to make my bed tonight comfortable and war.” He boosts playfully catching you off guard. He was nothing like they said him out to be. He was handsome in person, actually more handsome than words could capture and describe. He was rather sweet and playful something that you found to be interesting considering his parents were strict and stern. They terrified you.
But not their son, he didn’t scare you once. Johnny slips out the blouse putting it on and then seeing you turn around letting him change. Johnny fully knows you wouldn’t peak and even if you did, no harm it in because he has nothing to hide. He’s fit and probably the fittest in the palace. He changed while you weren’t eyeing him, you only faced the wall in front of you so seriously that by the time Johnny was finished long time ago changing he was standing behind you.
You slowly turn around saying. “My prince are you done—“ and while you saw him standing there so close you could feel his chest hit your face nearly, you flinch up staring at how close you were.
Johnny’s twisting smile makes you fold because you’ve never seen someone as beautiful as him so close you could never forget this moment of time. Your memory will be definitely photo-snapping this.
You hush your words down. “I will continue to my duties my prince.” He grins nodding. “Don’t let me keep you from your work miss…?” He said watching you curiously.
You look back at him. “Y/n is my name.”
He smiles. “Miss Y/n. Beautiful name you have there. Tell me when we’re you assigned to my chambers?”
You were busy fixing the shelves that held so many books, brushing them away from the dust growing on them. Johnny was sitting on the bed’s edge watching you reach from the books each and one of them were dust without mercy. You couldn’t allow the prince to have any dust in the sleeping chambers god knows what that could do to him.
“I’ve been assigned today.” You reply with a strained sigh as you push the books in the shelves when they were all done and dusted. You’re turning around walking to the night stands where you saw the dust boiling on there, you sweep with your hands. Johnny hums turning around because his eyes were glued on to you, following you run around to clean. It was nerve wrecking to say the least.
Being watched while you clean wasn’t your favourite activity but he’s the prince you cannot say other wise. Maybe it was nerve wrecking because it’s him watching you.
You pause as you lift out papers with all colours of the rainbow. The seven colours you couldn’t help but wonder why the prince had that there. You turn around with your hands gripping it and the prince turns around fully seeing what you had fun.
“My prince why do you have the colours on the paper?” You couldn’t help but file your curiosity.
His smirk goes down and he slowly stands up but very softly brings the hand to grab it. You let him take it and Johnny stares at you murmuring as if it was something to be ashamed of. But nonetheless he can’t keep a secret from the maids. They always find out but there was a good feeling you would be different if he just told you. You wouldn’t gossip, you know you wouldn’t.
Johnny replies croaking like a broken bookcase. “I cannot see in colour. I have an eye condition that lets me see only in black and white.” Your curiosity dims down when hearing this terrible thing Johnny has. You look down apologetically again, feeling sorry for him. “Oh I’m so… sorry… I was prying on your shoulders.”
He shakes his head smiling. “Oh don’t be. You were bound to find out one way or another Y/n. If only someone taught me honestly. These colours. It’s not like I can go and ask anyone in the castle what they are.” He smiles sitting on the bed again watching the paper intensely.
The people would look down on him if he were to ask anyone what the colours are because this was children knowledge but the truth couldn’t get out anyways. The prince’s parents King and Queen told him to keep it a secret forever. The maids weren’t allowed to gossip and he somehow had a feeling you’d be different from the rest of them. It was a good stomach bug he had about you.
You could tell he was dreaming to be normal but in your eyes there was nothing wrong with him. He was perfect in your eyes even though he couldn’t see in colours. You sit down next to him murmuring, a suggestion that brought his heart to grow warm.
“I can teach you if you’d like.” You say to him.
Johnny smiles suddenly with eyes widen watching you like you were day. “You know how to read?” He was amazed when you nodded. He couldn’t believe it when you said you were self taught. It was rare to know a maid who’s well literate; only the rich could afford to do so. But you’re self taught and it made his respect for you grow ten times more.
You grin. “It’s the least I can offer to do for you my prince.” You were right about him being the most kind soul you’ve met. Maybe he was a little unserious but apart from that he was probably the sweetest soul you’ve encountered.
Johnny nudged you softly eyeing you with practically heart eyes for you. He couldn’t believe you were offering and he didn’t even thought you’d consider it as much as it caught him by surprise, he was glad today he met you.
“You can call me Johnny when we are alone like this. You don’t have to keep up with the honourifics Y/n.”
You never felt so exposed unlike the time he calls your name through his lips so casually, like you could speak to a friend, it somehow felt more natural when Johnny said it but when you try to call him by his name it was such a foreign concept your brain couldn’t handle.’
But he was right. If he wasn’t a prince he would just be Johnny. If he wasn’t who he was right now he’d still be Johnny and by the end of the time he will only be Johnny. It was only a matter of time till you get used to it.
Your eyes follow the prince’s round orbs like they were the sun and you were just a mere small planet following them close. “Okay…Johnny— I mean my prince— i—!” You pause catching your breathe.
To see you lose your head for a whole minute trying to pick an identity what you could call him was an amazing and interesting sight to see you fumble. It’s like seeing two people at war together trying to see who is right and who is wrong.
He chucked at you, finding this relatively amusing. “Y/n I have a feeling we’ll be able to get along very well.”
You smile hearing the prince think so too.
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When no one was around it was your and Johnny’s world no one else’s. No one coifed to the world you and Johnny made when you were together being yourselves absolutely no one. Although it took some time for you to open up to Johnny only seeing as Johnny and no one else when you finally loosen down you and Johnny were able to communicate with one another more than you would with other people. For once the prince felt like he has a friend who isn’t someone who cares for the image, or the status like many other people do. You were there because you enjoyed the company as much as he did and that’s what made Johnny like you.
“Red is this one. It’s like a bright colour. It’s warm and our blood is red.” You explained, knowing Johnny loved you describe the colours.
He could listen for days.
“And this one?” He points at the paper on the rainbow diagram. Your face looks at it softly explaining with a serious face.
“That’s blue. The colour of the ocean.”
He enjoyed seeing you become serious too.
He liked how you’re intellectually speaking. You have your views not many would agree upon you speaking but with him you can say anything and he’d be an unbiased judgement. You think it’s ridiculous that nowadays people are treated differently based on from working classes and what you do for work. Johnny agreed because it’s the exact similar thing with him. People don’t treat him like he was human they treat him like he was a god they worship.
It was both intense different scenarios but from yours it was depriving and from Johnny’s it was enforcing titles.
You’re both very opinionated but you’re always speaking the truth to one another where you’re never hiding anything.
When you aren’t near Johnny because the head of Maid’s who assigned the work to the other maids like yourself were told to help clean the gardens or the different rooms that weren’t in Johnny’s section of the palace he found himself longing to see you and missing you gravely — at one point Johnny was looking for you and saw you cleaning out the kitchens.
He made himself comfortable watching you in the corner which the other workers in the palace, like the chef and the cooks who you were helping would eye him suspiciously wondering why he was here. And then when you left he’d follow you like a lost puppy. You enjoyed his presence so it never weirded you out if anything it made your life better.
The people around the prince would question why he looks way happier than before to you, he found himself wondering why but all that came to his mind that was an answer was: you.
Now you’re both laying on the open field outside the palace where you both escaped to. It was middle of the daylight and the young prince was not feeling doing prince-royal-stuck up duties in the palace so he found you working on the second floor of the palace and dragged you when no one could notice you leaving the group of maids. You were about to clean the carpet today but not anymore because the next minute you knew Johnny said he wants to leave the palace grounds and you’re coming with him.
That’s how you’re now laying on the grassy field with the most handsome man alive next to you laughing and throwing flowers at you that he prickled off the ground. You would turn around and smack the flowers he’s throwing at you away and then you would straddle his arms away but he was far too stronger than your body.
“What if they find out we are here Hm? Will you take responsibility for me losing my job?”
You were teasing him while asking a true and real question that’s been on your head.
“I’ll just make it impossible for them to fire you, you know that.”
The prince responds to your liking but something he was so passionate about as he pulls you down grabbing your legs and sliding you underneath him where he straddles you. The grassy field poofs out some flowers flying out of your way as he was pulled on top of you.
You smile at his words that always creep into your heart making a home in them. Your smile widens on your beautiful face mesmerising Johnny as he looks down at you while being on top where your bodies — especially your chests were touching one another. Through the maid outfit you were everyday when working made your cleavage visible when you lie down thanks to the corset underneath. While his prince royal outfits made him standout-ish. Even though he hates flashy outfit he made them look ten times more better when he wore it.
It’s been a month since the day you both became friends behind everyone in the palace’s backs. You were sneaking off doing all sorts of things so you could chat away from your problems. You both were using one another as an escapism to your loneliness. To Johnny’s loneliness actually. You were the best thing that’s happened when the palace hired you. He couldn’t get enough of you, and only you he was seeking everyday.
If without you there was a moment in space and time where you were not with him he swore that he would be a different person, a different man that he wouldn’t know; he doesn’t want to be that person who doesn’t have you. He needs you to the point he’s trying to never let you go. Whenever you’re needed somewhere else he wants to go there with you, he wants to come and be with your presence even if it was through a little while. It could really make a difference to how he’s been clinging onto you.
Your cheeks grow out when you smile, you were the happiest with him around. You’ve came to an conclusion about it a few nights ago.
Johnny seeing how your happy wide smile was there he slowly leans downwards capturing your smile into a loving soft pecking kiss.
It was only three seconds. Three seconds it was when he gave a small kiss on your lips catching you off guard. He pulled away to see your reflection wondering how your reaction was like but to his face you were watching him so blindly.
Your voice comes out like the softest of sounds. “Please kiss me again.”
Johnny leans closer capturing another kiss to your command. Your mouths were softly press on one another rolling on the ground as you were in your tangled bodies in the meadow fields, kissing outside the palace like your absolute time depended on it. Your hearts were in synch like your own hands were in your each other’s hairs.
The prince pulled away first to solely undress himself taking off the blazer and the trousers instead of you undressing him. He was far too impatient and knowing your lack of time he was going to make this happen, you on the other hand took your dress off and the corset away from your body.
You and the prince roll your naked bodies on another again in which you felt his mouth latch to your neck sucking on it with kissing motions as he grabbed your hips strongly pushing them on his lap where your voice came out as a striking moan loud enough to attract the animals nearby. But thankfully the river down below if you walk for another two minutes was heard rocking against your soft noises he was so wanting to play on repeat. You sounded heavenly.
The way his name rolls off your tongue with your accent it made it so much better when he was going to be inside you. His mouth felt like scorching embers burning your skin from the inside to the outside. He marked you so much but enough that wouldn’t get you caught, further the point he stretched out out with his tongue. Going down giving you kitten licks to your pussy that’s been craving him from day one.
The taste of you on his tongue was indescribable to even think about he was addicted, physically he couldn’t stop sucking on your folds between your pussy making you arch your back on the field or the way you were twisting when he purposely digs his head deeper on your clit rubbing his tongue side to side in another zig zagging motion causing you to feel your fullest muscles work together to contradict your soft moans you were trying to bury down. Johnny made it impossible to be quiet because he didn’t want you to be. He wanted to hear you like it’s your last time.
“Johnny…! I’m going to slip…!” You murmur into nothing stopping you anymore as you shriek. Johnny practically moans against your pussy watching you now come undone on his mouth. He swore you tasted so much better than he could ever imagine and hope.
“You taste so much better than the palace foods.” He mentions boosting, something within you will forever remember that.
You felt yourself pant heavily as the sight of the prince lifting himself up slinging your hips with him where you could feel the growing manhood now push inside your wet hole. You slip in so nicely he lets out a string of long sleeves grunts and you wrap your arms on his chest.
Your breathing became unstable as you rut your hips on his lower body pushing him in fully, Johnny stares at you with half eyelids open filling him with pleasure and lust, but also the need for you.
You were both panting in the next minute when your pussy was stretched out by Johnny’s large cock inside you moving like a canon in and out constantly having you under the pressure of wanting to orgasm once again. Your highs were coming in fast and letting you rot on his cock Johnny couldn’t even remember how many times you came because next thing you know you’re here squirming out your biggest orgasm yet after the other. You’ve been hit on high with his cock pushing up your womb. Johnny’s hands roams your stomach surface like he was so proud of seeing him imprint on your stomach seeing you through him you couldn’t believe your eyes knowing that he was this far inside you.
“How’d you like the prince to finish inside you, my love.” He quotes into your ears and your eyes widen dilating on the pupils, he knew you liked it when he saw that crazy look on your face. Something screams you love getting bred and Johnny would gladly breed a hole like yours for days.
“My prince… please! Finish inside me. Use me to your advantage.” You achingly let out and Johnny couldn’t believe his ears how well you were doing with squeezing his cock. You really wanted him to finish inside you and you’re making it harder for Johnny to last longer than anticipated.
It was unending for you and him. Johnny only seeing him once in your stomach skinned out he came instantly in you filling your hole out with only his name, with only his load something you were screaming for to have and now you have it working inside you.
You could feel the way his warmth cock left its territory in on you and Johnny capturing a few more kisses with your sweet lips groaning out.
“We should do this more often, Y/n.”
Your cheeks grew warm when your eyes met Johnny as he said this. You’re both naked in middle of a field where anyone could see you but you both didn’t care at this point.
You smile kissing his forehead. “I agree.”
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The minute you split apart was the time where you were both scolded for not being around for your duties. Your order was to go to the chambers and clean up the mess the prince made. You knew he made a mess purposely to have you keep coming there because otherwise you wouldn’t be inside his chambers when he needs you.
That explains while you’re in his king size bed laying on the right side with your legs wrapped around and your arms on the side watching you guys stare at your eyes like they were a million stars in them. You smile cheesing when Johnny plays with your hairs twirling them around his fingers or sometimes putting them behind your ears, and occasionally he strokes it back so he could see your eyes.
You were in trouble but that’s all because of the prince you knew it. But you couldn’t care anymore because he made every worry melt away like it was nothing but a bunch of smoke.
He whispers. “Did you get shouted at alot?” He says worrying that you may of gotten punished.
You shake your head humming. “I was only shouted at. I didn’t get the capital punishment.” You joked and Johnny held you tight lowering his eyes. Something definitely wasn’t right.
Your eyebrows furrow seeing the worrying expression on Johnny’s face you couldn’t help but slowly wonder what’s happening to him. Usually he would be the one who’s lighting up the mood but now you’re the one left in the light and he was in the unusual dark cloud mood that’s what makes him standout now so weirdly.
Your voice came out as a surprise, spouting off at him. “Hey, is something wrong?”
Johnny didn’t answer for a whole minute until he pulls his arms away staring up at you. He was in this whole overthinking mess and you don’t know what could be making the young prince so much more absent minded.
This wasn’t the prince you know. The prince you know was the life of the party. In fact he we’re beginning to be bigger than life itself and you seeing him down on energy right now made it even worse because now you’re worried for him.
“My parents said they found a match for me.” He said lowering himself into multiple pieces where your heart sank.
You look away suddenly about to leave because you had the biggest reality check of your life happen to you right now. The man you love was getting married, the man you fell for was never going to be yours because people will talk and people love to talk about things that aren’t following the norm. You and Johnny were doomed from the start and somehow you had lingering hope that he would he yours but he’s ever going to be that.
Johnny grabbed your wrist so you couldn’t leave his bed. He pulled your wrist in his grip and when you turned around with tears in your eyes wanting to snatch it away.
You huff out breaking down. “Let me go Johnny.”
He didn’t let go.
You bit your bottom lip now begging. “Your highness let me go please.”
The unfamiliar name you’ve been calling him now wasn’t for Johnny. It wasn’t for the guy who fell for you it was the prince you work for in his own palace. Johnny looks at you unconvincingly he was struggling to want to let you go.
But the way you were watching him sternly made him pause and let you go. You left the chambers with the door shutting tight. The lingering footsteps dim down and he never wanted to scream so much in his life. It felt like the happiness leaving his life forever, because you were leaving.
The minute he knew when you both returned from outside his parents calling him to the meeting with him to tell him about the upcoming engagement of his to some princess from the east of Korea.
He never wanted marriage. He never intended on marrying ever but that was until he met you.
“You’re my only heir you need to get married and successful claim your lineage to the throne.” His mother tapped on the throne seeing Johnny.
Her son looks away scowling. “I don’t want to get married, Mother, I don’t know the princess either.”
Johnny could remember the moment from the afternoon like it was happening right now. It haunted him.
His father stood up glaring at Johnny for speaking back to his own mother, it was shameful to his father to have a rebelling son.
But for you he’d rebel the entire throne.
“You will marry the princess and you will be meeting her tomorrow. That is end of discussion.”
Johnny never plans to let you go. Even if you’re the first one to do so.
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You’re preparing decorations for the welcoming of the new royal family coming over to the palace, you however weren’t looking as happy as the other maids next to you who gossip about the new princess coming over. It fills your empty stomach with rage and nothing else knowing the man you love so dearly is about to be sweeping off his feet when a nice looking princess comes over.
You were basically feeding the lion in the den by working away. You clench your eyes into a glare fixing the flower bouquet with the ribbon.
One of the maids watch you roughly handle it. “Uhm Y/n you’re supposed to be gently tying the ribbon.”
You look over snapping out of your thoughts and your feelings were disappearing the moment one of your maid colleagues came over.
“Oh…right sorry.” You couldn’t believe you were nearly killing a bunch of flowers knowing damn well she will have Johnny fall for her.
I mean who wouldn’t of? You heard she’s the most beautiful princess in whole of Korea and you know that Johnny was a player in the past. It was clear the first day you came to clean his chamber’s he slept with plenty of women. But some deep part of you hoped he picks you, despite knowing well it’s a slim chance of you ever ending up with Johnny.
You felt betrayed almost. But you knew he can’t go against the throne or his parents because if he did it would be going against the world.
“Ladies the prince is coming!” The head of the maid said making everyone of the girls line up straight to greet the prince who was trotting his way to us.
You were pushed into a line straight up your shoulders and your head low. The minute the prince arrives walking past the maid line he saw each and one of them bow down paying respects to him this early morning on a new brand day.
He stops facing you suddenly and your gaze looks up at him. It was rather cold from you and you felt awkward when the rest of the maids stayed bowed down because they can’t get up until he leaves.
But he was facing you, speaking to you.
“Y/n.” He whispers almost and you widen your eyes looking away avoiding your eye contact.
Your hands push him when they couldn’t see. “Leave.” You say to him and Johnny bites his bottom lip in frustration as you pushed him away, once again. You’re so stubborn sometimes, he can understand why you’re being like this but is it too hard for you to stop and listen to him?
When he had no choice but to walk away with another heartbreak down his sleeve made by you the maids watch him strut away and they go back doing their work. They have to work faster because they will be arriving soon.
But you couldn’t work much when all you’re filled with is envious betrayal on your heart.
It’s like setting up your own lover to be with another. Johnny wasn’t even your lover but it definitely felt like it was that.
The next thing you know the whole palace was decorated in many fine refining decorations and designs. The walls were repainted into a pastel colour to suit fitting for the princesses arrival. It annoyed you at the same time, the idea of the princess coming and staying at the palace. You had no choice but to fake a smile and go along with it. Everyone was pleased by the outcome results and if anything they were happy for the prince who might finally settle down with someone, have children with, carry on the monarchy and lead the country into greatness once more.
But all you saw was heartbreak.
The royal family made their way into the throne room where they were greeted by many palace guards on stand watch patrolling the walls within the palace securing their grounds till they leave to further the work. The maids were pouring the warm tea on the cups resting by the table, the minute you saw the beautiful puff out dress on the young woman you swear you were never starstruck until now. She looked beautiful, beyond anything you’d imagine any else.
The queen and King welcome the princess’ and her family in like they were there own family members. It was cheerful greeting enough to make your thoughts flood back to negativity. You look away when the king turns his sweet attention to his son.
“Johnny what do you say to the princess?” The king saw an opportunity to introduce the two young people, with a sheepish smile.
Johnny couldn’t believe his father was trying to set him up with someone he could care less about. The prince looks at the woman bowing his head. “Hello Princess Haewon.” The young woman smiles bowing her head in return.
“Hello prince Johnny. It’s good to finally see you in person.” She smiles sweetly you could vomit into the teacup and serve it to her, god you try to stay less petty but you cannot help it.
‘I’d like to say likewise but it’s not.’ Johnny’s thoughts mourns in his death knowing that it was meant to be a blessing. But it’s not because this woman wasn’t who he seeks.
You were right there and Johnny felt the tension rise until the parents were soon to discuss dinner plans. Heck they were discussing all sorts of plans at first; starting with horse riding activities, maybe even attending Johnny to hunting which Haewon seemed more than merry to go about.
“Oh you must be tired. How about my servants lead you into your chambers for tonight?” The king encourages chipping the fingers at the servants and few maids to come forward.
“Oh Y/n, you can be assigned to the princess chambers instead.”
You stand by the side when the king called you specifically. Johnny’s eyes widen as he stood up suddenly making everyone in the throne room look at him with their eyes glued in confusion wonder. His voice strikes at the king and protectively coming to Y/n holding the side where he stares at his father in the eyes.
“Father Y/n is my chamber’s maid.” He remarks, the king was stunned looking at his son. “I’m aware but you have many maids who clean for you. Give Y/n to Princess Haewon.”
“She can have any other maid but Y/n.” He stated firmly and the King was left in confusion. “Why is that?”
Johnny looks down at you. “Y/n is the only one who knows the temperature i like my bed at. I will not stand in giving Y/n to anyone.”
Haewon’s eyes were watching you dreadfully. It caught everyone in surprise enough to give the impression that Johnny was possessive of you. You could feel everyone’s eyes simply eating you alive until the king gives up.
“Fine. Haewon you may have another maid assigned to you.” The princess nods at the king’s approval.
Johnny looks away. “If so i’ll be taking my leave.” Without saying anything else the prince leaves and grabs you along with him. The people in the palace room were deeply bizarre about this announcement as soon as you both left the room fell into awkward silence.
Just what on earth was that? They all had this expression that couldn’t possibly be processing the impression of the Prince.
The minute you found yourself running away with Johnny you were pinned by the wall nearing a corridor that’s been empty. No sign of palace guards patrolling leaving only you and a very self conscious prince pinning you by with a heavy pant. You found yourself arching your eyebrows at him huffing out and slapping his shoulders in annoyance. “What the hell was that back there huh?” You couldn’t believe he was there arguing about who you were working for and who you were not. Johnny stares down at you momentarily. “I’m not giving you up.”
He said sternly catching your attention into a prancing contest between staying in or staying out. You watch him in disbelief. “Your highness we can’t be together.” You whisper yelled, trying to get a point across to the stubborn man but he couldn’t budge and listen to your reasoning.
“Oh I’m your highness now?—” He suddenly bursts pulling away with a confused expression and the eyebrows arching at your words leaving the soft lips. You never call him highness, it’s always been Johnny. Always when it was just you two.
You held your breath in and the eye contact. “Yes you are and that is the problem here Johnny! You’re a prince and we will never be together.” — it broke to hear you say this to him when it was in fact a massive reality check to the prince who loves you dearly. But you were right and he couldn’t accept such a realm without you in it.
He lowers his gaze suddenly the legs felt weak like they were melting on the top of the ice berg where you were standing there holding back your tears. “Give me up don’t make this harder than it already is. We have no future together. If they knew — you would’ve been punished. And I would be dead.” You blunt out looking away. “I would be dead in a prison cell and your parents would have punished you.”
There was a sharing silence that kills the both of you quietly like a gas poisoning your insides turning them rotten just like how your love was breaking apart. Johnny can’t handle this breakup, this heartbreak from you he cannot be without you. It physically tore him apart like he was nothing but a piece of paper ready to be scrunched up and thrown into a trash can midway through the air. Your conflicted self was in a war between wanting Johnny but a large part of you self restraining knowing you weren’t able to; the best and better option is for you to run away from your lover, let him have a life he could thrive in unlike the life he would suffer with you.
The prince standing there no longer blocking the way he was just staying there watching your cold and broken eyes crying because he knew, he knew you loved him so why couldn’t you accept him? Johnny could always convince his parents. He could. He’s the heir and no one would say anything about him being with you, at least that’s what he will do no matter what it takes. But you’re being far too realistic in your own head. You had your own take vision on what will happen which left his dream to be crushed, just like how you were crushing his heart in your hand into miniature pieces resembling a broken mirror.
Johnny’s sullen face dimmers like the life leaving him. “Y/n there must be another way… I promise I can protect you from the public—“
“Johnny Suh!” You clench your jaw at him, instantly shutting the prince up watching you get an outburst for the first time at him. “Get it into your head. I don’t want you. Go be with your rightful wife.”’
He balls the fingers into his fist looking down. Your fingers pull themselves rubbing away the tears streaming down your cheeks.
“She’s no wife of mine.” He faintly told. “She’s not the woman I want. The woman I want, breathe, seek and dream claims to not want to be with me. But I find that hard to believe when you were screaming my name few days ago in the field.” He eyes you darkly and you hated how far your cheeks went red. You look away not finding this amusing.
Johnny never wants to let you go because you’re the only thing in his life that matters to him. Matters to him more than the throne itself, he could never replace you with his duty. The duty only hurts him but you, you don’t. You made him feel loved unconditionally and you made life worth while when he found it meek and cruel to survive in. But now instead of being his healer, you’re becoming the one thing that’s making him hurt with unimaginable force and consequences he didn’t sign up for.
You’re His Healer.
Johnny’s breath comes out weakly as he walks back to you making you take your footing back pushing you into the wall softly and your faces leaning together. You tried your best to fight the sudden urge to pull and kiss him right there and then, but you remind yourself it’s not your place to do those things. You told yourself to not give him any false hope. The prince couldn’t get enough of you, so much he caressed your hair behind your ears so he can look you in your eyes. “At least prove to me you don’t want me, Y/n, please.” You knew what he meant. You knew it by the moment he leans closer towards you slowly.
You await the kiss to happen and when it did Johnny felt the same way about kissing you the moment he did it the first time. It felt like the first but it was far by it being your first ever shared kiss, but this time it was much more desperate and filled with despair than the other times you’ve been kissing. You stay there pressed on the wall kissing him harshly enough to leave his lips becoming bright red and swollen like he was hit. Johnny was indeed hit, hit by your undesirable love, you’re kissing him like it’s your last.
He wanted to scream your name and tell you to marry him. He wants you to be by his side as he rules this country because he knows what you’re capable of no matter your status; he doesn’t need you to be wealthy and well respected. He just needs you.
You break away hearing Johnny struggle to pull away from the kiss as if he didn’t want it to end knowing this will be the last thing he will remember with you. You weep gently with your sadness showing currently becoming existing it was getting harder to stay strong.
The kiss broke you down more than you’d ever thought it would.
“Maybe in my next life I can see you and the world in all the seven colours.” Johnny said to you caressing your face, especially the tears rolling down them were caught between his soft nails. His words brought something within you alive as you close your eyes pressing your forehead against his.
“Goodbye Johnny.” Your last words trail to him.
Johnny will find you in this life or the next, you’ll become his and he will see you in all colours. He will witness the colour of your tears, the colour of your soft longing lips he wishes to always remember. Your first reaction when becoming shy or flustered, he wants to look into your eyes as the light reflects the colour in them. He wants to be the first one to see you in your wedding gown down the aisle.
All because you’re the one thing that saved him when no one wanted to. You’re His Healer.
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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out! <33
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your-darling-gaze · 3 months ago
Text
The Wedding - Chapter 1
The evening was falling, I hastened around the room, trying to figure out if I was looking fine enough. 'Shouldn't have eaten rice the other night....bad, bad decision....' I think to myself, Nervously spinning as I eye my reflection in the mirror, a very visible bloat making me look fairly bulked, but I couldn't be thinking of all this right now.
I exhale, looking at the heap of make-up on my table, sighing. 'Should have started sooner...' I say, starting to pick out shades that fit in most likely.
The Pre-Wedding Dinner, of course, was something new to me.
Very new. The Theme was locked in. 'The 40s.' So of course, I had to look like a Good-Girl-Faith Lady. White, the very obvious for a bride, and floral, to make it look most decent, let us turn a blind eye to the neck line, please. After the Bachelorette Explorations of Europe, It had completely slipped my mind that I was not supposed to be looking for a matching blush 2 hours before the damn dinner.
I sigh into my hands, rubbing my face wearily as I tap away at my screen; the dialer ringing sounding more annoying than it usually does.
'Ro, Come help me out here.'
She was 'Rescue'. You know, Like...Iron Man's rescue? yeah. She owned up to that little nickname. Punctual and very, very loyal, she was inside the house exactly 4 minutes after that call ended. I could tell from the keys clinking, there she was.
'I told you, that you needed to get these things done in the damn afternoon itself!'
'I'm sorry! I was onto the caterers for tomorrow and I had to go pick out flowers and every thing...It completely-'
'Cher, Girl, Work.' She said, rinsing away at the heap of make up. Sometimes she is more practical with things than I am. When she isn't high, that is. I did of course, ask her to lay off on her stock for a while, at least since a week before the wedding. With a few needed things in hand, she and I were working on the sequence. The very staple.
First, Dress. Next, Hair. Then, Make-up.
'Where's the dress...? Tell me you did not leave it-'
'I did not leave it at the dry cleaners. Ro, Please, I'm not stupid, my dearest.'
'Well...'
'Not THAT stupid, Ro, please.'
I paused, my voice slightly silencing as I tried my damn hardest not to tear any gaps anywhere into the dress. Not that I looked like a trapped pigeon as I tried to fit, but anyway. 'Jesus, I'll donate a few million if I don't suffocate in this dress tonight...'
'Cher, why's it taking long to fit...?'
'I don't know~! I gave my right size, the same size that I gave for the gown too...'
'Hurry the fuck up or we're going to have an angry Bucky yelling up at us both...'
'Sorry.'
3 hours. Possibly the most frustrating time I've spent with my hair and make-up in my life. All to settle onto something vividly simple. I liked it that way.
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'You look amazing.' 'Ro, please.' 'No, I'm not kidding. He's better faint when he see you.' 'Ro!' 'What..?'
I huffed, fixing up, one last time. Swallowing, as I unintentionally sucked in again. This was going to be a long, long night.
___________________________________________
I slowly made my way inside, fingers constantly occupied with spinning the ring, a slight anxiety. I know right, a social setting. Amazing. But this was...my dinner. Our dinner. I was afraid but I was happy too. The setting was perfect. Everything, just the right amount. The light dimmed to that perfect glow. Drinks that are always fizzy. Everyone dressed in their prettiest, vintage clothes. Odour of the barbeque grill, a sweet scent of my own lily soap on me. Ah, and...Jazz too.
Gazes turned, of course. The warmest smiles, nods of encouragement, cheers and whispers, all at once. It was thrilling, to say the least. My gaze searched around, the other hand at the same time, reaching to hold onto Rowan, just a little tighter.
Then, I saw him. He had this vector resistance, that seemed to make all time slow around him. For a moment, I had almost seemed like a fool, with that look on my face. Dazed.
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My smile fluttered genuinely. I approached, quiet, as to not take his attention away. Guests were still yet to arrive. My gaze turned once back to Rowan, a supportive look in hers. I sat by him, observant.
'The Hobbit.' The Original One. He had given me that when we first met. What coincidence.
I smiled, glancing away at the drinks starting to be served. I was glad that I could make it in time today. Would've been a shame to be late to something you hosted. And borderline embarrassing too, for the both of us. 'What bride shows up late, no?' I sigh, wandering, countless conversations made and the dinner hadn't really begun yet. I hum a tune, looking around for Rowan. Where did she wander off to...? I walk around, picking up a drink.
'I am hoping she didn't go-' My chain of thought is broken by a bitter sting down my throat as I swallow the drink with clear reluctance, my face forming a not so gentle frown. 'The champagne is...bitter?'
I was panicking inside. The champagne was bitter. Oh, it is a disaster. Someone needed to stop the drinks before they reached. No, no, no.
My haste around is halted when I bump head first into Rowan, the leftover champagne in my hand almost spilling over.
'Ro, Help. The champagne...it's- it's not-'
'Oooh, drink.' She gleams, taking the champagne from me, swallowing it down without a doubt, leaving me utterly perplexed. I watch in horror as she down the glass with a satisfied hum.
'The champagne, what about it...? Ice? You want ice?'
'No~! That's...that's not...it...isn't it bitter?' I whisper yelled, still in shock from the previous little burner.
'Honey, this is Dom Perignon 2010 Magnum. This is anything but bitter. This is something Tony would kill to have in his collection.'
'But it's...'
'It's okay, cher, different folks, different views. Besides, this is better than my past week of staying clean.'
I sigh. At least it wouldn't be a disaster.
_________________________________________
Dinner was served. The atmosphere instantly smelled of fine sizzling barbeque meals and stews. Helpful, Easy glances were exchanged around the table as each one dug in. I exhale, slowly slipping my hand into James'. It brought a sort of ease, really. He was careful, nudging me for seconds when he knew I needed them, getting my locks out of my face when needed. He was very well aware, even while being occupied in very many conversations with the men. My pinky stayed locked with his, of course. It was something we did in public settings. He knew that my anxiety would continue to pin me at most times.
With a serving of the very staple, New York's Beloved Blueberry Cheesecake, and very many toasts made from all near and dears, the dinner, at last, concluded. Excitement in each person's goodbye for what's to come the next morning. The big day. 'How cliche.' I thought to myself, sighing. I held onto James' arm, entwined with care. I glanced up at him. My smile was vibrant, yes. A little sickness in my gut, I pushed the feeling away. My cheek slowly rested onto his shoulder.
'Quite a night.'
______________________________________
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satninroses · 2 years ago
Note
Reader accidentally flashes elvis her bare pussy (not just a flash but she doesn’t even realize she is just sitting there completely exposed to him). elvis debated whether to tell her because he didn’t want to make it awkward (and he secretly is enjoying the view and complete cluelessness of y/n just basically spread out) but then he thinks in case she realizes it would be way weirder if elvis just hadn’t have told her.
Over Exposed
(A/N): Hi! Busy week this has been 🙃. I know I haven’t been super active and I apologize! Between transitioning from part-time to full-time and home life, there hasn’t been much me-time lately. I promise I am working on requests!! I love you all very much and I appreciate you all sticking with me and my inconsistent schedule.
Note: This one probably isn’t good. Long story short, I wrote two versions to this story and didn’t really like either of them. It’s a little messy but please understand that I am just having an off week. Things should get better with this next request. (hopefully)
Summary: You accidently flash Elvis and it causes a stir.
Pairing: Elvis Presley x Fem! Reader
Word Count: 2,245
Warnings: Swearing, Flashing, Mentions of Smut (But not really any smut), Implied Male Masturbation, It’s a little rough.
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You traveled around with Elvis and the Memphis Mafia as a personal assistant. You could do paper work, you could pick up Elvis’ jumpsuits from the dry cleaner, you could even make food whenever they didn’t want to go out. You were basically their Jack-of-all trades.
You enjoyed your job a lot. Not only was the pay good, but you got a lot of perks like being in the presence of Elvis Presley himself. He was never rude to you, he always treated you with respect and kindness. There were days where he would be on edge from stress and dealing with fans, or nosy press, or himself, but he would still treat you with kindness.
Today was no exception. The Colonel called you and him into a meeting the night before a big press conference. He had requested that you were both up bright and early, which wasn’t your favorite but, you could handle it. You went to bed sometimes around 7 P.M. that way you could wake up with enough time to shower, do your hair and makeup, and paint your nails. In retrospect, you didn’t think that your clock would malfunction and go off at 8:30 and not 7.
‘I want to see you both in the lobby at 8. I do not want to be late, understood?’ You nodded enthusiastically and wrote it down in your notepad. ‘(Y/N), I want you down here a little earlier. We need to go over the plan once more before my boys big day.’
You thought it was cut and dry. Go to bed early, do your morning routine, go down to the lobby. Apparently not.
“God damnit!” You shouted angrily. You threw the blankets overboard and hopped out of bed. You stripped away your night dress and hopped in the shower. (I know showers take a minute but you will never understand how concentrated on cleaning yourself you are when you don’t have a 5 minute time limit.) You washed away all of the dirt from your body from the previous day and brushed your teeth.
You washed and conditioned your hair, washed yourself, and hopped out. You grabbed the nearest towel to yourself, not knowing that it had probably already been used, and scraped any and all moisture off your figure. You threw the door to the bathroom open and began to rush around your room for some clothes.
At the bottom of the basket in the corner of the hotel room, you pulled out a white button up blouse with large flow-y sleeves, a black pencil skirt, a pair of silk-lines pantyhose, and some black heels.
You ran back to the bathroom to apply some quick moisturizer and makeup. You rubbed some kind of face cream all over, applied some subtle eyeliner, some red lipstick and a little bit of mascara. You grabbed your purse off the bedside table and practically teleported downstairs.
In the lobby, things weren’t much better. Colonel was pacing and muttering angrily to himself. Elvis and Jerry sat on a couch and went over the game plan. Some of the other Mafia members were at the hotel shop grabbing some snacks for the ride.
“Where is that woman! I told her she needed to be the first one downstairs and she’s the LAST!” Colonel had finally snapped, drawing attention from the other hotel guests. “Damnit, give her a break! Everyone has an off day. It’ll be fine.” Elvis had replied defensively. “I’m sure she’ll be down in just a second.”
Right he was! You stumbled in the hallway, clothing a little uneven, hair wet, and a stressed out look on your face. “I’m so sorry Mr. Presley! I-I didn’t keep track of time I’m so sorry!”
Elvis chuckled and stood. “Darlin’, It’s ok. Happens to the best of us.” Colonel had overheard the conversation.
“Things like this do not happen to people like her. She should have known better.” He finally turns to acknowledge you. “Do better. Your job is on the line.”
Elvis’ amused expression turned to one of disdain. “You don’t make the rules here. Anyways, Billy said the limo’s here. Let go.”
You nodded and followed after him at a brisk pace as to not anger anyone else today. Once you, Elvis, Colonel, and the rest of the mafia had made it outside, a valet driver stepped out and opened the door for all of you. Elvis placed a hand on the small of your back. “Ladies first.” You smile sweetly at him and nod your head.
You throw your purse in one of the seats and and begin to step in. The roof of the door was a little bit shorter to your - or anyone else’s- liking. You bent down in front of Elvis to get it not realizing the show you were putting on for him.
Elvis eyed your bare cunt as you bent down to get in. His eyes are glued to the way your pretty snatch looks so moist and soft.
He practically waged a war in his mind to get himself to look away. He can’t be hard before one of the biggest conferences in his career.
One by one, him and the rest of the mafia get in and take their seats. Jerry sits to the right of you leaned against the door while Elvis sits to the left of you with his thick legs spread. The rest of the mafia fills in some empty spots.
“(Y/N). Can you add something to my agenda?” He speaks lowly. You nod and retrieve the notepad and pen from your purse. “Yes Mr. Presley! What would you like added?”
“We’re gonna go out to to eat after this conference. I want some BBQ. What do we say fellas? Do we want BBQ for dinner tonight?” Some of the mafia utter a few ‘Hell yeah’s!’ You nod and add it to lined paper before turning to look at him again. “Any thing else Mr. Presley?”
“Yeah.”
“What would that be?”
“Stop calling me Mr. Presley. You can call me Elvis.”
You turn to him and blush. “Sorry…” You looked away bashfully. “S’alright doll.” He replies softly. You smile at his words and turn to look at him again.
After about 10 minutes of quiet ambience and small talk between the guys, you had finally arrived at the convention center. Elvis pushed his sunglasses up his nose and nodded at everyone in the car. Colonel was the first to exit. He stood by the car door and let Elvis out. The screams of fans, flashes of cameras, loud voices asking his questions filled everyone’s senses. You followed out after Elvis and everyone in line behind you got out in an orderly fashion. Colonel shut the door and followed the group.
“Mr. Presley! When will your newest single be out?”
“Soon.”
“Mr. Presley, is it true that you were spotted outside the international hotel with a woman? Who was that woman? What relationship does she have to you?”
‘Gosh, I could never be a celebrity. People are just so nosy’ You thought to yourself. Awaiting Elvis’ answer, the interviewer tried to block his path. The colonel caught wind of this and pushed his way up to where you and Elvis were. “We have places to be. That was his personal assistant (Y/N). Move along now.” For once in your life, you could thank the colonel for such a heroic act.
Once you guys pushed through the crowd, Elvis leaned down to you. “(Y/N). Put something on my agenda please.”
“Sure! What would you like to add Mr. Pre- Elvis.” You corrected yourself before he had the chance too. He chuckled at you and clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Good girl. Anyways, I need you to figure out who that guy was back there. Send Jerry or Billy to him and have them tell him to never do that again.”
You nodded. “Yes Elvis, right away.” On the notepad, you wrote ‘Find scary guy. Have Jerry give him the what-for.’
Once you guys had made it to the resting rooms in the convention hall, everyone sat down to relax. Going from the car to a room shouldn’t have taken as long as it did or be as stressful as it was however, if you’re traveling with Elvis, that’s sure to be a huge factor.
Once you set your stuff down, you made your way over to the rest of the mafia. “jMr. Schilling? May I have a word with you?” Jerry’s head shot up at your quiet request and he nods his head.
“What’s up (Y/N)?”
“Mr. Presley has requested that we find out who the gentleman was that got in the way earlier. He would like you to have a word.”
Jerry nods his head. “You got it. We’ll give you guys some time to get ready. We’ll be back soon. Come on guys! We’re going out”
Jerry and the rest of the mafia exit the room leaving you and Elvis. Colonel had made his way out to talk to the organizers of the event a few minutes before.
Finally. It was quiet. You could relax for the first time since this morning. You sat down on one of the lounging chairs and crossed your legs. Elvis would be back from the restroom in a second so it’s better to be ready to cover the plan once more before the conference. The door to the bathroom opens and out walks Elvis.
He sauntered to the other couch before collapsing with a groan. “Wish we were back at home. It’s a little too cold out here.” He commented. You giggle and clasp your hands together. “This feels just like when I was younger. It feels good to get out of the Tennessee heat.”
“Hey, watch it!” He pointed a accusingly at you. You let out a little laugh and a quick apology. You felt less tense around Elvis. You felt like you could loosen up a bit. You stood from your spot on the chair and looked at him. “Do you want anything from the minibar?”
He nodded his head. “I’ll come with. Might find something I like.” He stood as well and you both walked i got the second room of the suit to the fridge. You opened it and immediately felt a sense of relief. You could detox with a little drink.
“Doll, could you get me the Pepsi-Cola from the bottom shelf?” You nodded and bent down.
Elvis had forgot about the incident from earlier, when you were in the same position. Your skirt lifted a little bit to reveal your pretty ass and pussy. He gulped harshly. He could feel his pants tighten at the sight.
“E, I don’t think this is Pepsi! It’s some other one. Do you want me to look for something different?”
Not wanted the moment to end, he denied your offer. “No, I swear it was back there, look more in the back.”
He could slap himself for the way he had been acting but he really couldn’t help it. He’s always wanted to fuck his cute little assistant and now she’s in a position where it could happen. Bending down to reach the bottom of the fridge mean that more of your body was exposed to his eyes. He wasn’t expecting you to bend down further just… keep bending down. The skirt rose higher to completely uncover your ass and cunt. He caught a better glance at it this time around than
He found your obliviousness almost laughable. Could you not feel.. the air or the coolness hitting your ass? Now, as a decent human being, it would be instinct to tell you and let you know that he wasn’t mad. However, a small part (which was slowly turning into the majority) of him enjoyed the view. He wanted nothing more than to keep you there and fuck you before the conference.
In the midst of his daydreams and fantasies, you stood up and handed him a cold bottle of Pepsi- Cola. “You were right. There were some in the back. Sorry about that!” You spoke sheepishly. You took in his appearance. You noticed the look in his eye that screamed animalistic.
“Elvis? Are you ok?”
Your soft voice broke him from his trance. His eyes gazed down at yours and they widened. “Yeah! Sorry darlin’. Something caught my eye is all.” He spoke quickly. You nodded your head and smiled. “That’s ok! However, the guys will be back soon. We should go over your responses, alright?”
This would be fine if he wasn’t painfully hard. He looked down quickly and turned so his back was to you. “Yeah that’s fine. I gotta use the can again. I’ll be fast.”
You nodded again. “I’ll be on the lounge chairs waiting for you!” You said enthusiastically.
He slipped into the bathroom and locked the door. He put his hand on the counter and the other on his forehead. How was he gonna get this all out before everyone got back? Why does he feel both guilty and not about this? Whatever the reason for his feelings were could wait. He needed deal with his erection first.
He sat on the side of the tub and pulled himself out from his black slacks. He signed in pleasure before rubbing his hand over the tip.
“God damn her. She’s gonna be the death of me.”
(taglist: @mt12209 @myradiaz @presleyenterprise @18lkpeters @austinsmutler @ccab )
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lesb0 · 1 month ago
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Off topic but what's it like living in LA? I'm considering moving there for work and I'm curious if you're willing to share :)
I will try to condense what 24 years felt "like" lol but I am now more aware that I was very privileged to see every aspect of LA and took most things for granted. Even still, I'm learning things were either regional or upper-middle specific experiences, like living a block from exposition park down fig or going to San Diego every weekend for my summer "job" as a conservation zookeeper in my little khaki uniform.
LA has a unique geographical combo of all the natural terrains grouped together that makes it one of the most beautiful coasts on earth. I know people who did a beach surf, mountain biking, ski trip, and desert camping in one day. The pollution is awful but the grey clouds of ocean mist just feels cleaner to breathe. The sun will come out to dry up the marine layer and kiss your cheeks by 11am. The fires and landslides are scary. But the earthquakes are fun.
you have the widest international mix of stunningly designed immigrant towns that feel more like teleportation, so many major flagship museums, the most innovative nontraditional art galleries, unparalleled delicious restaurants, cutting edge of vegan American cuisine, the worlds best shopping from 99¢ to hermes, popups and events every week. so there's always something to do. Even the tourist stuff like Hollywood can be fun, I've attended many movies premier nights with everyone dressed up as princesses at El Capitan.
People are way friendlier and way crazier and way more community forward so you can't be some antisocial isolated weirdo, you need to go speak to humans. The opportunities are endless, I knew so many people who moved there poor and homeless but made it work. All the child actors are exploited laborers with 0 rights or autonomy. I used to think "some of my friends have a job inside the TV just like my job is cleaning my room" until I realized the parents were all robbing them.
If you make celeb friends, they will get you into cool parties and give you jobs later, my aunts first job was as tom greens' chef because she made him laugh. One of my school friends lived in one of those Malibu camper communes parked all along the pch while hustling on a B lists singers home stylist team as a fashion student from Idaho. Red carpets aren't fun, you mostly just get yelled at to move out of the way and it's only cute when you're little and all the pretty actresses pick you up. Home of all the greatest makeup fx artists, horror props, and costuming people in the world: so Halloween is the biggest craziest all & out holiday of the year. Everyone leaves for Christmas so it feels slow and quiet with less traffic.
I used to find it really annoying when transplants aggressively called themselves angelenos until I met someone born and raised on the east coast last summer, one of my best friends now. she worked in LA for a few years as a college professor in the 00s and still whines about wanting to "go back home" and "missing home" every time we talk, like you can see and hear it in her beachy hair and mean-bubbly hippy personality. LA has a way of crawling under your skin and pushing out your previous concept of home because it feels more alive and home-y than other cities do.
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justjams2003 · 1 year ago
Text
Blossoms-12
Pairing: Erik Destler x OFC (Mariposa Claremont)
Summary: A young author travels away from her family to The Opera she has heard so much about. She is lost and confused and yet still seems to get a job there as a cleaner. Yet when she meets a mysterious man there, everything changes. Her mind is entirely consumed, but will she allow her burning need for him to consume her life as well?
Warnings: Haircutting? Kidnapping? Mentions of sexual themes, angst, and fluff too, kissing, drowning, fights. Tell me if I miss anything
Word count: 1,7k
Masterlist
Part 11~Part 13(coming soon)
Dividers: @yaynowimglad @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Tags: @rclector @jordanmunson3 @ssssssws-world
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Have I been down this tunnel before? The stone of the underground all begins to look the same. There aren’t any defining features to the grey walls. Not to mention it is oh-so-very quiet. There aren’t even any sounds of rats chittering or bugs on any of the walls. I can’t hear the music in these dark tunnels like I could in his cave. 
That is of course, until I hear the click as I take another step forward. “Oh no,” I can’t help but mutter out, my imagination begins running wild. It doesn’t happen suddenly, I’m frozen in my spot. Scared that if I were to move an arrow might fly at me. Worse though, the walls begin closing in.  
Panic rises in my throat, and I can already hear my breath rising. My frozen state is interrupted when the walls begin moving faster around me. I book it, I pick up my dress and run as fast as I can. My legs seem to be just a bit to slow compared to the walls.  
A sour taste forms as bile threatens to pour out. My shins burn and I can feel my heart in my ears. My vision turns darker, partially from panic and partially from the walls creeping in my peripheral vision. But then, there is a light at the end of the closing tunnel, quite literally.  
I don’t look where I’m going. I just need to get out. I need to escape the closing walls. And then suddenly, the floor falls out from underneath me. I can hear the walls that I was running from close with a loud thud. And then I too, hit the floor with a similar noise. My arms and legs are now covered in scrapes and bruises.  
A loud ting noise is heard, and I snap my head up. A grate now covered the hole I’ve fallen into. My head hurts, I can hear the thudding of blood rushing into my ears. “Oh my fucking god!” I yell out, slamming my fists against the walls. I never curse, I hate it but this does seem like the perfect moment.  
My head is in my hands, and I grip onto my dark brown locks. It’s a bit longer now, sitting just above my shoulders. I can’t help but let the tears fall, now that I’m alone. Why did I say that? Why the fuck did I say that? I want him, I need him to write. He fuels me and lights my passions and now I’ve opened my big mouth and pushed him away.  
What have I done? He holds my heart, my excitement and my passion. He’s the key an adventure and yet at the same time he feels like home more than my own home ever did. And now I’ve scared him off! I’ve called him dubious and myopic, after comforted my soul.  
Then again, I’m not wrong. I can’t spend my whole life comforting his fragility and assuring him of his worthiness. I’d much rather spend the time laughing and loving. Intertwining bodies rather than reassuring his insecurity. Yet, he also does the same for me. Abating my dislike of certain parts of me that he sees even when I try to hide it.   
Can’t he just love me without worry and I the same?  
A new sound causes my tears to dry up. Water. Water running. Then I feel it, the wet slosh on my bottom. The hole I’m stuck in is filling with water. “No. No, no, no.” Again I start panicking. Is the whole thing going to fill with water? But the top is closed up, I can’t escape.  
Now is the time to act and there is only one person who knows I’m down here. I jump up, too short by a meter to even touch the grating. “Erik! Erik, please!” I hate screaming if it’s not with joy. My voice is filled with worry and despiration and I hate it. I start jumping up and down, trying to see any way to escape.  
But there is none and the water is flowing even faster. “Erik, please, I’m sorry!” I’ll eat up my words if it means getting out of this alive. My birthday is around the corner, and I don’t plan to die at 18. The water is at my waist now and soon it might just be shoulder heidth. Now I’m really becoming hysterical. Screaming my head off and trying to throw out as much as I can.  
It doesn’t help though. The water is rising fast and soon I won’t be able to stand anymore. “Please, Erik, help! I can’t swim!”  
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Sobs rack through my soul and my whole body curls up into a ball. I grab my mask and throw it as far from my me as I can. I can hear it jump from the walls and clatter across the floor. I don’t want it anywhere near me. I don’t want to be reminded of my horrid, disfigured face. More so the way it makes me feel.  
It makes me feel gross. It reminds me of the people who laughed at me as a child. It reminds me of the people who beat me, whipped me and ruined my body for someone as beautiful as her. It reminds me that people have made be believe that hurting her is better than allowing her in.  
It makes me feel safe. And she is anything but safe. She with the golden-sand hair and the sea-blue eyes. She is adventure. She is a sailboat traveling 100km/h in the direction that not even the captain knows. Her parents would hate me, I’m sure. I can’t always give her the sunlight, but I can at least give her my heart. Can’t I?  
Help! An echo bounces off the walls of the tunnels and all the way into my cavern. My head snaps up, into the direction that the young girl had walked. Then I hear it again, this time much louder. My feet scatter across the floor and my mind is only one thing.  
I know the exact route she took, as long as she keeps calling for me. The tunnels wind and twist and I just thank whatever god sent her to me that she did not take the route of arrows. “I can’t swim!” Now I truly move faster than I ever had before. The higher the water, the faster it flows.  
I open the latch that enter the trap and instantly turn the water valve shut. I yank the metal grid from the floor, over 100 kilograms and I sent the damn thing flying. I bend over and pull her from the hole by the arms. She’s soaked from the shoulders down, her whole body is shaking. Aurora clings to me, refusing to let even a centimetre of my fabric go.  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She repeats over and over. It’s hard to even make out what she’s saying merely because she’s crying so much. I wrap my arms around her, rubbing her bare arms and pulling her as close as I can. All while I continue to hush her.  
“I can’t die, please, I have so much I have left to do.” She mutters, her racking now died down. Only small whines of begs and pleas for her life exit her mouth. “Hey, I won’t let that happen. You’re safe. I won’t let you die, not while you’re still such a little flower.” She lets go slightly, wiping the snot and tears from her face.  
“You promise?” She asks and then lift her head to look up to me. Her words trail off and her eyes seem to go wide. She doesn’t move an inch. Anon, her look of shock turns to one of wonder. A smirk, not a laugh or a face of joy, but a smirk of wonder and dare I even say something else?  
Then is hits me, I forgot my mask in my alcove. And yet the look she gives me makes me so warm inside. It doesn’t make me feel stupid or hideous. Rather, I feel a blush creep across my ears. Soon after she smiles, it drops again. Mariposa lets go of me, and pulls herself up.  
The young girl wraps her arms around herself. She avoids my gaze and turns her back to me. “Please, take me back...” Her voice is small and shy and hurt now. Long gone is the naïve girl who doesn’t fear a handsome stranger. Now, someone who demands to protect her heart, even if it’s from someone who she trusts with her life.  
Fix it, Erik. Fix it the mistake of previous past. I don’t think. I don’t think of the insecurity of my bare face. Or the embarrassment I may cause her. Or the people in my past telling me I’m not good enough to be loved. I grab her by the wrist and pull her against me.  
My lips land on hers without any hesitation. My hands entangle into her dark blonde waves and land on her soft waist. I can feel her kiss back in the same passion and lust as I do her. Both our tongues intertwine, and our souls connects, and, in that moment, I know I mustn’t let her go. 
Except when we must come up for air, there is a moment of bliss and then she shoves me away with all her might. “You can’t do that, Erik! You can’t call me your Clementine, you can’t take me on dates, you can’t invite me in your home and you can’t kiss me like that if you don’t allow me to fall in love. You are playing with me. I am young, I know, but I won’t let you break my heart like this again.”  
Her words cut deep, except the it’s more truth than harsh words. “My Aurora-” I go to hold her again but she raises her hand. “No, you will take me back.” And so, I did, knowing I could not change her mind. And when she was safe, she forbade me from following her and I listened, not knowing if she would ever let me see her again.  
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honeyjars-sims · 1 year ago
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1.27 First Impression
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Ambrose: Hello, darling, I'm Ambrose. But I guess you knew that! You're the new Social Media Assistant, correct?
Chantal: Yes, I'm Chantal. It's really great to meet you, I thought I'd be training under someone else.
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Ambrose: Heavens no, you'll see that I'm very hands on with my employees. Or family members as I like to call them.
Chantal: That's great! You know, I've been following SNOOT forever. The products are just so amazing.
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Ambrose: Oh? Which one is your favorite?
Chantal: Oh, um...probably that vagina ball thing. The one that gets rid of all the toxins. It's really made a difference in my health.
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Ambrose: You mean the VaJayJay All Day Refresher? You really should familiarize yourself with the product names, darling. I spend quite a lot of time coming up with names befitting of the products. It's all about quality here at SNOOT.
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Chantal: Of course, Ms. Staton. I'll start working on that.
Ambrose: Please, call me Ambrose. We really are a family here. I'm more than just a lifestyle guru and influencer, you know. I really pride myself on being down-to-earth, Chantel.
Chantal: Uh, it's Chan-TAL. I'm looking forward to becoming a part of the family.
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Ambrose: Wonderful! I really hate to be a bother on your first day, but I do need you to pick up my dry cleaning. I have an interview on Del Sol Today tomorrow morning and I need something that says "relatable."
Chantal: Sure, I'll head there now.
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Ambrose: You're such a blessing. Oh, and please do be careful, these are designer pieces that must be handled delicately. I'm sure you understand, Chantel.
Chantal: It’s Chantal. I understand completely. I'll be as gentle as possible with your garments.
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Ambrose: Great. You know where Sunset Cleaners is, right? I'm sure you do, it's the most popular dry cleaners in town. Well worth the extra cost.
Chantal: Of course, I go there all the time.
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Ambrose: Sounds like you're all set, then! I will need your assistance with dressing when you return. I'll see you in a bit, Chantel.
Chantal: It's--nevermind. I'll be back soon.
[Chantal leaves] 
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Chantal: Lin-Z, I need directions to Sunset Cleaners.
Lin-Z: Finding Sunset Cleaners. Head South on...
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haisayonaraa · 4 months ago
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A work of Art
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[story below]
(with part Diamond is Unbreakable being one of my favorite parts, I decided to work on a piece for it. And I've recently been Introduced to the character of Rohan, grant it, I knew of him before, but thanks to the help of a friend, I've finally got a good understanding of what he's like as a person. grant it, I haven't seen him in the anime yet, but I hope to do him justice. so please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong with anything TwT sorry for the long note! enjoy!)
It's been awhile since Rohan had let Jotaro take care of him when he was regressed, and even longer since Jotaro had first found out Rohan even regressed. But it's been long enough that Jotaro has figured out what Rohan likes and doesn't like to do while regressed. Rohan prefers to stay home when regressed, it's not that he hates going outside, in fact, he loves being outside. Rather, he just doesn't like the people. he's not scared, or ashamed, he just doesn't like the interaction. Jotaro has found that the little is just as creative when little as he is in a more mature  mindset. After a few visits Jotaro found that bringing the small artist supplies was his best bet to win him over. 
Coloring books, finger paints, and crayons became a common item in the bag Jotaro over. On this particular day, Jotaro brought over a special activity. Jotaro knocks on the door of Rohan's house. there's some rustling from inside, "..who's there?" Jotaro smiles, see, he'd told Rohan about asking whenever someone knocked, so no strangers could bother while Rohan while he was regressed. "It's just me Rohan." Rohan cracks the door open, "and who may that be?" Jotaro chuckles, "Jotaro Kujo." Suddenly, the door swings completely open and Jotaro is met by a young boy dressed in a comfy green sweater and some fluffy yellow socks. "Hi miste' Kujo! Whatcha got in the bag?" Jotaro goes inside, "well, I thought we'd try something new today." Rohan furrows his brows, "new?" Jotaro sits down and opens the bag he brought, Rohan goes over to Jotaro and sits beside him. "Don't worry, I really think you're going to like this." Rohan sighs, "ok, if you says so."
 Jotaro pulls out some paper plates, A bag of pom poms, and a bag of googly eyes. and some  pipe cleaners. Rohan tilts his head and picks up the pack of paper plates, "what we gonna do wif these?" Jotaro lays out everything on the table, before leaving the room, not to long after he comes back with some paint, scissors and glue. "We're making butterflies." Rohan gasps before looking at the plates again, "how we gonna do that?!" Jotaro takes the plates. "well, let me show you" Jotaro takes a plate and folds it once, he then takes the scissors and cuts the plate to have a wide 'w' look. Afterwards he unfolds the plate and Rohan is in awe, "oh! it does look like butterflies!" Jotaro nods and puts the plate down on the table before setting Rohan's paints out for him. "now you get to decorate it however you want, if you need I can even get some glitter." Rohan claps his hands before getting to work painting the butterfly, "I'm gonna make it looks pretty!" Jotaro smiles, "I'm sure it's going to look amazing." 
After a bit of painting, Rohan holds his butterfly up for jotaro to see. "Hey, good job! that looks great, do you wanna watch some cartoons while it dries?" Rohan nods. thankfully the paint was quick dry, so they didn't have to wait long. "Now since it dries, we can add some pom poms to make its  body, do you want to do that?" Rohan takes the bag of pom poms, "mhm! I gad it!" Rohan opens the bag, and with a little help from Jotaro, glues the colorful pom poms to the butterfly. "awww! it looks so good miste' Kujo!" Jotaro nods, "I agree, do you think we should add some antennas and eyes?" Rohan nods. "alright then, let's get to it!" So, Rohan picks out some pipe cleaners and twists them into the pattern he likes, he then gets two googly eyes. Jotaro helps him glue them on the butterfly. "Now we let that dry for a bit, and it'll be done! what do you want to do while we wait?" Rohan thinks for awhile before walking away, it's not long before he comes back with a sketch book he's reserved for his regressed self.  "I wanna draw!"
Once the butterfly dries, Rohan insisted on making thirty more, but Jotaro didn't mind, he enjoyed watching Rohan be the creative little artist he is. In fact, it made him happy to know his craft idea was enjoyed by him. Once the day was done, all the butterflies ended up being hung in Rohan's room. And Rohan, all tuckered out from the crafting he did, was put to bed by Jotaro. Both had a wonderful day. 
(Rohan woke up to see the butterflies hung all over the walls of his room. he was both confused and astonished. needless to say they stayed on the walls)
hi hiiiiiii thanks for reading this story! I might make this into a little craft series where Jotaro and Rohan do lil crafts together :3 for anyone wondering, here's the website I got this craft from! (though I added the antenna)
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(also here's a Rohan :3)
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(BUT TELL ME WHY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO FIND A PICTURE I COULD WORK WITH, AGH, AND A PACI?! ugh, I think the paci pics are what take me to longest to do honestly T^T)
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