#i was never self sufficient or quiet
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teaboot · 1 year ago
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On of the less intuitive things about love, I've found, of any kind, is the importance of needing things.
I didn't realize it until recently, but I've always seen love as something requiring sacrifice, selflessness, patience, and generosity- to ask for nothing is to be the best person I can be, small and quiet and never in the way, always happy and helpful, self-sufficient and present when desired.
It's only as an adult, now, that I'm beginning to see the selfishness of wanting nothing.
I cut my friend's hair in my kitchen the other day. They wanted a trim and I had the skills, so I offered, and was genuinely excited when they stopped hesitating over "bothering me" and took me up on it. It was a peaceful afternoon, and we had tea and chatted for an hour or more.
My brother and I shared popcorn at the movies a while ago. When I came time to pay, I pulled my card out like a wild western sheriff and slapped it on the machine before he could fight me for it first. The satisfaction was delightful.
Someone called me crying on the phone the other day. Kept apologizing for disturbing me at work, talking about how they were bothering me on my lunch break. I was telling the truth when I told them that really, I was flattered and honored and relieved, knowing that if they were hurting I would know, that I didn't have to worry in silence. It felt good to hear them slowly come down, and to know that they knew it would be better soon, and to hear them laugh wetly on the other end. We're getting together for a visit next week.
It's hard to need things, if you've trained yourself not to. It's hard to want things, when you don't know how to want anymore. Trusting people is difficult, and so is relying on them, but I don't know where I'd be without the people who rely on me.
I've heard a lot of people say, "Nobody will love you unless you love yourself". I've had a lot of thoughts about it. It's not right, but it's not wrong, either, I think.
"Nobody will love you unless you love yourself"... I've always taken that to mean, "You will not be lovable until you develop a positive view of yourself as a person".
Now, I think it's sort of inside-out.
"Nobody will love you unless you love yourself"... because nobody can show their love to you in a way that you can accept until you treat yourself kindly, and learn what you need, and what you want, and how to ask for it, and then give that vulnerability away.
Love, for me, is someone I ask for a ride to the airport. Whether they end up doing this or not is irrelevant.
It's not needy, or selfish, or taking up energy. It's giving the gift of being wanted, and needed, and thought of. It's giving someone the security of being part of someone's life.
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specshroom · 10 months ago
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*°~There are many benefits to being a mage~°*
Includes: Fem reader x male orc, size kink, "human fetish", friends to more?
In which: Orc with a big problem confides in his mage friend who decides to help him out with a useful spell~🪄
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You've been in this town for quite a while now, almost 3 years. That wasn't the original plan but It just so happened that this seaside town was more welcoming than many places you've been to on your travels. It sits at the coast of two major trade routes, connecting people of many different walks of life.
The friendliness and diversity you experienced allowed you to make a few friends you might not have otherwise.
Like the one you're sharing breakfast with right now. His name is Grimmok and he's the self-proclaimed, "Best fisherman in this damn town". He's your typical young, burley orc.
The first time you met him was in the local pub, you were intrigued when a crowd formed infront of the huge orc. He was dramatically telling one of his fisherman's tales and the small crowd hung onto his every word. He was a very good story teller and you happened to be very interested in folklore and myths. You made a habit of just walking up to him, if he didn't look busy and asking him to tell you a story. Soon it wasn't uncommon to see you sitting on the docks listening and writing intently as he waxes on about some old wives tale while repairing his nets.
Now you sit in his home, eating breakfast while he grumbles on about having to train a new fishing boy.
"The boy gets distracted by the smallest things, every time someone even resembling female walks past the docks he's panting like a dog." Grimmok bites into his ridiculously large breakfast sandwich signaling the end of his rant.
He did look more grumpy than usual when he opened the door to let you in for your weekly Sunday breakfast. His shoulder length black hair was tied into a hasty half up half down bun and his stubble looked more scruffy than usual. You can only huff in amusement at his troubles.
"Cmon, don't be too harsh on the kid. You did the same thing with Rosie Cotton, remember?"
The orc stills and huffs indignantly, scratching at his neck. This makes you grin.
"Mhm, you'd be telling me a story and then just stop in the middle of a sentence. I'd look up and sure enough there's Miss Rosie walking on by. Fiery hair flowing in the wind, cleavage spilling out her dress, swaying those hips and-"
Grimmok interrupts your overdramatic musing by flicking your pointy hat off your head.
"Hey!"
"You're acting like you didn't like looking at her too." The big guy grumbles almost like a child. He wipes his hands on his plaid pajama pants and picks up his empty plate, heading towards the sink.
You lean down to pick your hat off the floor, dust it off and mumble,
"Yeah, but I never got to bed her."
The dishes in the sink clatter a little too loudly as he tenses up. You hardly try to stifle your laugh.
"We didn't actually...she was...too small... For me to...." The orc struggles out as he wipes his plate clean.
It's quiet for a minute until you ask.
"But she did try, right? I'm pretty sure that counts, Grim."
The orc just grumbles something unintelligible. You want to sympathise with the poor guy but imagining Rosie Cotton, a "short stack" type of woman, trying to fit his massive green cock in her little pussy was pretty erotic.
"I want to feel bad for you mate but you kind of bring this on yourself. You obviously have a bit of a human fetish."
"It's not a-" The orc goes to defend himself but stops and just sighs when he realises it's no use.
"...and a size kink to boot." You mumble with toast in your mouth.
"I can't help it if I think horny humans trying desperately to take my cock is literally the hottest thing to me!" Grimmok finally lets the dam of sexual frustration burst after you've done a sufficient amount of poking at it. You always were good at getting him to actually talk about his problems.
"But the problem comes in when I actually have to fuck them, they can barely take half! How am I supposed to fuck them!? I'm too big! I'd kill them!"
You can't help but choke on your toast as a cackle forces itself from your throat. "Sorry. I'm sorry!" You struggle between snorts. Your big green friend just stands there with a grimace, arms crossed as he waits for you to finish.
You sigh and wipe your watering eyes. "Well, I'm glad you've confided in me because now I can help you." You wipe your hands clean and stand up from the orc sized table.
"You know that cool thing I can do with my hat?" You take your hat off and reach inside of it, the magic pocket space allowing you to reach your whole arm inside of it when you physically shouldn't be able to.
He nods sceptically still leaning against the sink, a bit concerned about where this is going. He thought by "help" you meant like you were going to pep talk him or something.
"We just have to do this but with...." You gesture down to your crotch.
Grim stands there, mouth slightly agape, blinking at you.
"I mean it's not exactly the same obviously." You pull your trusty spell book out of the hat before placing it back on your head while the pages of the spell book fly open to the page you want. "You basically draw this sigil on someone and then they'll be able to take whatever they can push inside no matter how big. Girth might still be an issue though..."
You explain this to him like you've explained many other spells, like you're reading him a recipe, deliberating what ingredients would work best. He doesn't even know how to react honestly.
"You're serious?"
You clap the book shut and adjust your hat on your head, smugly shrugging,
"This is what I do."
The poor guy just stumbles in disbelief.
"Magic, I mean.... Magic is what I do." You correct yourself a bit awkwardly and clear your throat, regaining your confidence.
"It's a pretty easy spell so we can try this whenever you want really."
"We?"
"Alright! Alright."
"Well yeah, unless you want me to go up to Rosie Cotton and say "Hey love, you mind if I put this sigil on your womb so my friend can finally pound your tight little-"
Grimmok rubs his face with his hands, sighing again and looking unsure. You lean against the sink next to him, barely coming up to his pecs.
"Look, it'll just be a one time thing so you can actually see if human pussy's all that and if you like it, I'm sure we can find plenty of humans who would love to try it out."
"...Alright. That sounds good."
You give a slap to his thick bicep and an encouraging "ata boy."
"and if you don't like this one, I'm sure I could find a spell that'll just make you..." He doesn't miss how you glance down at his crotch. "Smaller."
He huffs and pushes your shoulder playfully, he liked how you could always joke away the tension in any given situation. You walk up to the big wooden chair you were sitting at a second ago and pull it away from the table so that it's facing outward, struggling a bit as it's very much orc sized like most things in his house.
"Cmon. Sit."
You pat the chair, looking at him expectantly.
"Now?"
He's really not used to other people being so forward especially not when it's his mate. You shrug at him.
"Why not? I mean we can wait till you're ready, I don't mind. I have literally all day."
You put your hands behind your back and rock on your feet as you both just stand in his kitchen for about a minute...waiting. He eventually huffs and steels himself, fully committing to the idea and walking over to plop himself in the chair. He's going to put his dick inside one of his best mates.
You place your hat on the table so it doesn't get in the way of your activity and step in front of him. You levitate your spell book In front of you, looking down at the page with the sigil that's way more familiar than you're letting on.
"Okay, I'll face this way so it's less....personal." You turn around so your back is facing him. "You do still need to take off your pants though."
He smacks his teeth, "I figured that." He mumbles, pushing his soft pajama pants down to his mid thighs, immediately freeing his cock as he wasn't wearing underwear. He leaves his white long sleeve on, the sleeves folded to his elbows, giving you a perfect tease of his thick strong arms and multiple tattoos. When he looks back at you and sees that you've already disappeared your pants, he quickly looks away.
Sensing his nervousness you ask with a softer voice than before,
"can I sit?"
He clears his throat before grumbling a "Yeah."
You gently lean down and sit your naked ass onto his lap, legs open wide over his own you can see his half hard cock laying between his legs but try not to stare. Obviously Grimmock is a big guy but he's even big by orc standards so of course his cock is massive even when he isn't fully hard.
Grimmock clears his throat and jolts you out of your thoughts. You adjust a bit on top of him feeling his happy trail against your lower back. Your eyes skim the page levitating in front of you, when you finally find the incantation passage you straighten up and start chanting the ancient words in the text. Your eyes glow and the air feels static, Grim has seen magic before but the novelty never truly wears off.
An intricate shape starts to form right above your pubic bone, where your womb would be. The sigil glows brightly on your skin as Grim peers from above your head to look at it. At first glance he thinks it looks a bit demonic but then remembers he doesn't know anything about magic and decides not to mention it. When the sigil is complete you clap the book shut, immediately cutting off the static energy in the room and startling him in the process.
"That should do it."
You place the book on the table and lean back against his clothed chest, feeling the tension in his body not letting up.
"Damn, I can't believe little Miss Rosie took half of this. What a lass."
Your joke lightens the mood once again as Grimmock scoffs at you. Feeling him relax, you bring your hand down to finally touch the wetness that's been growing for awhile now. "We should still do some prep before you put it in. Is that alright?"
He nods and watches your hand disappear between your thighs. You readjust so that your boot clad feet are on either side of the chair rests. Opening yourself up to the air and to him, he can see you've already got two fingers pushing inside. He hesitates before reaching for his cock and slowly starting to stroke himself under you but it was painfully clear he was holding back.
"I know I'm not as short or.... endowed as Miss Cotton but I could put on a red wig if you'd like."
Grim huffed a laugh at the mental image of that.
"Oh wow~ Grimmie, you're soooo big and strong~"
You say in a high pitched voice (that doesn't sound anything like Rosie Cotton), using her embarrassing pet name while looking up at him and batting your eyelashes dramatically.
Grim scoffs and holds his hand over your mouth "Stop playing around." He tries to sound serious but his smile and the grumble in his chest betrays him. You laugh against his hand holding his wrist. You slowly pull his hand off your mouth and inch it gradually down your body giving him ample time to pull away. He doesn't and you move his hand to rub against your wet pussy ever so gently.
You're both looking into each other's eyes, this was not supposed to be so intimate but it doesn't look like he minds when he takes charge and slowly eases two fingers inside your aching pussy. His thick fingers stretch your pussy so good as you lightly buck into his hand, greedy pussy already hungry for more. The way he's looking down at you with so much need gets you so hot inside. A heat that only increases when he starts pumping his fingers in and out. Grim works you open with one hand and pumps his fat cock with the other.
This entire situation has you pent up and impatient so you pull his hand away and sit up, "I can take it now." He can't help but groan at your words but remains concerned at the perceived lack of prep. Whenever he fools around with humans most of the engagement is spent just doing prep so he's more than a little worried, "Are you sure?"
You don't reply as you gently take his fully hard cock from his hand, holding it up against your stomach to see how far inside you this thing could go. You both groan at the comparison between his ridiculously massive dick and your body, he reaches way past your belly button and into your stomach. Definitely more than a human could safely take. You adjust your legs so that you're almost squatting on his lap, your feet plant on the seat on either side of his hips.
You support yourself with your hand resting on the seat between his legs and lift yourself so you can rub your wetness along the length of his cock. He brings his rough hands to hold your hips gently, not applying pressure but just resting there so he can have something to hold.
You lift yourself up until his tip is in-line with your entrance, slowly rubbing it against your clit. You both groan lightly when the tip pops in and you slowly ease yourself down his cock. He's amazed at how easy your cunt swallows him. You pause half way down to adjust and give a few pumps to the rest of him before your hand leaves his cock to settle next to your other hand on the chair in front of you. He squeezes your hips a little in silent concern and you smile before easing the rest of him in, gently descending until you reach the hilt. Your pubes kiss his and he can't help but let out a weak moan at the sight and feeling of you taking all of him. Finally feeling tight walls grip the entire length of his cock has him reeling. You're overwhelmed as well, It's been a while since you've taken someone this big.
You slowly circle your hips around so that you really feel his cock against your walls deep inside you, you're obviously very pleased with yourself. Grim is seeing stars, eyes shut, head tilted back, trying to regain himself even a little while his literal dreams are coming true.
"Well, we know it works. I guess that's it then." You move to lift yourself off his cock as if your work is done.
"Nononono, Please no. Please."
Comes Grim's hasty but soft displeasure, both his thick arms circle around your waist to keep you in place as he leans against your back, head resting on your shoulder.
"What's the matter big guy?" You lean into his chest, stroke his arm and turn your head to look at him. He huffs, you know exactly what's the matter. He takes a deep breath and lifts his head to look at you.
"I need you."
Your heart jumps in your chest.
"I need you to fuck me...please."
You look up at him, wide eyes, mouth agape as he looks back down at you. The moment is almost sweet until your mouth forms into an evil grin and you snicker softly, a dreadfully familiar mischievous glint in your eyes. Grim closes his eyes and almost regrets all the choices that lead him here.
"Riiight~. I almost forgot, this is probably the first time you've actually been able to fuck someone sooo much smaller than you."
"Poor guy, you must be so pent up, huh?"
You reach down to gently hold his massive ballsack, making him suck in a breath and twitch his thighs.
All he can do is let out a choked moan of your name which only makes you chuckle.
"I can really play the part for you, if you'd like. Y'know the, "Ah, your so deep!" and "You're filling this human pussy up so good!""
You laugh when you feel his dick twitch. Poor Grim can only grip your waist and try to keep his hot face from getting hotter. He looks down at you with pleading eyes and you decide you're not so evil after all. You pat his arms and move them so he's holding your waist. He startles a little when you playfully kiss him on the cheek.
"I've got you big guy."
You lean forward again with your feet under you and start to lift yourself up very slowly until the top of his cock is juuust about to pop out. Your thighs burn as you stay there for a few seconds, teasing Grim and yourself. Grim thinks he might actually cry if you don't move.
Suddenly you grip the edge of the chair and force yourself down hard on his cock, taking him all the way to the hilt in one hard thrust. You both groan very loudly, he downright yelps with the sudden movement. You grip the chair and clench around him so hard he can't help the way he grips your waist tightly. One hand covers his mouth as he tips his head back and tries to not cum immediately. He tries to regain his breathing but you have other plans. You can feel him twitch inside you and a desperate need to be filled engulfs you.
You start thrusting up and down on his dick, moving your whole body up and down his length. It's a good thing he can't see your face because you are enjoying this way too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you bite your lip, the sensation of being filled to the literal brim is intoxicating. You work yourself and him so diligently, it's no time before your thrusts become more frantic and you're right at the peak. With one final deliberate thrust you cum hard around him, clenching and unclenching like you're trying to milk him dry.
You both moan freely now, though his are more like growls. Your pulsing walls quickly lead him to his own climax, holding you close to his chest and thrusting up into your cunt, spilling hot seed deep inside your womb. You shake and squirm even more with the blissful feeling of your walls being coated with his spend.
After a few moments of you two spasming and twitching you eventually ease up and fall limply against his chest, adjusting your thighs to rest on top of his again. You breathe out a long sigh and bask in the fullness of your cunt, stroking your stomach up and down.
You're blissfully unaware of the knowing smirk that grows on his face. He cards his fingers through his hair, composing himself a little more. His warm hand joins yours in caressing up and down the expanse of your stomach and chest, loving how small you feel in his hold.
"You've done this before." His voice comes out in a low growl that makes you shiver, not expecting it. You crane your head up to see him smirking down at you and all you can do is sit and stare. He chuckles deeply,
"There ain't no way, this is your first time taking a cock this size."
You stumble for words but none come out. His hands caress your thighs and one hand comes up to gently hold your jaw. He leans down really close to your face.
"You're a size queen."
You suck in a breath and your pussy clenches involuntarily around his cock which you only noticed now hasn't gone down at all. Grim laughs louder this time.
"I should've known the second you pulled out that spellbook."
You sit there, quite embarrassed at being caught. You smack his hand away from your waist.
"Shut up, you're the one with the-"
"Yes, we both know about my kinks, you teased me about it enough which is very hypocritical of you."
Grim is just loving the way you fluster and fumble for words right now.
"Oh, so you don't have a thing for inhumanly huge cock?"
He challenges and uses both his hands to bring your naked thighs to your chest, exposing your pussy, leaking with his seed.
"So you don't like the way I stretch and fill this little human pussy?"
You can't help but whine at his dirty words and the position he's binding you into. His cock adjusting inside of you, hitting a new spot.
"If you don't, I guess I could just pull out and-"
"Nonononono... Grim Cmon."
You frantically babble your disagreement, shaking your head. He chuckles again, very pleased with himself at turning the tables on you but thankfully for you he's not as evil as you are and his dick is still painfully hard.
"Alright Darlin, I'll take care of you."
He lifts himself from the chair, leaving a puddle of both of you when he stands. He comforts your whines when he pulls out to set you ass up on the table and just stands at the edge, one hand on his hip and the other leisurely stroking his cock.
You look back at him with confusion, expecting him to just fuck you over the table already.
"If you ask nicely."
He says looking real smug, you sigh in defeat and turn your body so that you're facing him. You disappear the rest of your clothes, leaving you stark naked on the large kitchen table you were just eating breakfast at. That realisation makes him pump his cock harder.
You press your knees as close to your chest as possible and bring your hands down to your puffy, leaking pussy. You spread your folds for him with your fingers and say, as sexily as you can manage.
"Please fuck me Grim."
Grim is so fucking floored, he's cursing himself for not thinking of doing this sooner. He sighs and pumps his cock harder, lining the leaking tip up to your pussy lips. He eases it inside and the new position makes for a new sensation for both of you as different spots are brushed and tension melts away. Once he's balls deep again he gently worms his arm underneath your back to lift you up with ease. You wrap your arms around his neck for support being mindful not to pull his hair. Suddenly you're face to face, looking into his eyes for the first time since you started.
You look into his dark eyes and they relax you, this is your best friend, you trust him. His eyes leave yours to stare at your parted lips. When he sees that familiar quirk on your lips he looks back to your eyes, catching the mischievous glint. You lean closer so that your noses are just brushing against eachother. You feel his breath hitch when your lips meet his. He spares no time getting into it and moves his lips against yours. You make out while he adjusts your body in his hold, one hand on your ass and the other on your waist.
He then, without warning, lifts you up and brings you down hard thrusting the whole length of his cock into you in one hearty thrust. You break from the sloppy kiss for a moment to groan out in absolute ecstasy, loving the way he takes the lead from you effortlessly. He brings down your whole body to meet his upwards thrusts. The way he's basically using your entire body like a fleshlight makes you embarrassingly horny.
It feels like it's been years since you were fucked like this, the way your body is reacting, so sensitive you're sure you could cum again any minute. This is exasperated greatly when he brings you closer to his chest with one arm locked around you so that he can worm his other hand in-between you two and rub at your engorged clit.
You grab at his wrist as he frantically works you to your climax, you basically scream when you finally reach that high. Clenching and shaking on his cock while he holds you up with his buff arms. You cling into him so tightly, getting drool on his shirt. You even squirt a little, getting your wetness all over his cock and the floor. Your intense climax once again has him reeling. The sight of you clinging onto him, squirting and losing yourself on his cock makes his balls clench painfully as his frantic thrusts turn faster and sloppier. He reaches his climax as he holds you close, groaning into your neck, pumping another thick load deep into you.
You both stay like that for a while, coming down from your respective highs. Your fingers slowly unclench from his shirt moving down to lazily caress his chest, feeling it move with his breaths as you rest your head on his shoulder.
He slowly manoeuvres your legs so he can sit back down on the chair, holding you to his chest. His hand strokes down your back as you both soak in the warm, tranquil after glow. His breathing evens out to a steady rhythm and your eyes flutter closed.
Knock knock knock
You both jolt awake and stare at each other wide eyed and then at the front door, which is very much visible from the kitchen. You both stay quiet and he holds you closer to hide your fully naked body if the rude intruder somehow manages to break the door down.
Knock knock knock
"Uhh Mr Grimmock Sir?"
The tension in Grim's body sags when he hears who's on the other side of the door. A hand goes to massage his impending migraine.
"BOY! What do you want?!"
You can imagine the way the poor fishing boy cringes at the anger in Grim's voice.
"Sorry Sir, I was wondering if you could give me some extra lessons on the boat?"
Grim growls in frustration, you chuckle in amusement and start kissing up his neck which settles him down a little.
"Tomorrow lad, it's Sunday."
"But I was-"
"Tomorrow."
The finality in his tone seems to get through to the young man as he mutters an "Alright Sir, see you then." Before walking off, his steps getting lighter and lighter.
"He doesn't want to work all week but suddenly he wants to work on Sunday?!"
Grim's irritation is clear as he gestures to the door incredulously. You can't help but laugh at the orcs misfortune. You settle your arms around his broad shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as his hand begins to stroke down your back again.
"Thank you for...helping out"
He says, quite genuinely.
"Anytime."
You throw him a thumbs up and he has to laugh and shake his head at the award winning nonchalance. When the amusement fades though he leans forward in the chair and brings his hands lower to cup your ass cheeks.
"Anytime?"
You can feel his soft cock gradually hardening inside your pussy and you look up at him in utter disbelief.
"Unbelievable."
You shake your head and chastise him but the smile that breaks on your face rats you put. He grins and lifts you up, walking out of the kitchen. His mouth marks up your neck and his stubble tickles, dull tusks dig into the sensitive skin.
"Just unbelievable."
You mutter to yourself again as your legs hug around his waist tighter and you feel his cum dripping out of your hole, leaving a trail all the way to his bedroom.
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girlgenius1111 · 3 months ago
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learning curve
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alexia putellas x reader [& r's nephew] r gets custody of her 5 year old nephew when her brother gets into trouble. alexia insists on sticking around even though r gives her an out. it's a new and entirely stressful situation for r, but alexia makes it a bit easier. fluff, angst, etc. this is a kidfic.
How was it possible? That the most ordinary of days could be just one phone call away from shattering life as you knew it. 
You should have known, really. Should have seen it coming. You were happy for the first time in a while. Happy in your career, in your relationship. Of course something would come along to change everything. 
It was a pleasant day off, the day you got the call. A slow morning where Alexia woke up way before you, but didn’t get up. Instead, she let you sleep in her arms, completely content to just… be there with you. You’d made breakfast together, Alexia’s voice raspy from lack of use, pressing kisses to your shoulders, your face, your neck, as if she couldn’t help it. It was purely and entirely happy. 
Your phone rang just after breakfast. It was an unknown number and you never answered unknown numbers but something about the call made your stomach drop. You clicked the answer button and gave Alexia an apologetic smile, walking out of the room. 
“Hello?” You greeted, tapping your foot impatiently when no one said anything right away. Alexia had put on her favorite show, and as much as you pretended to despise the soap, you were hooked. 
The robotic, pre-recorded message that began startled you.
“This call is from a person currently incarcerated in prison. All calls are logged and recorded and may be listened to by a member of prison staff. If you do not wish to accept this call, please hang up now.” 
It wasn’t shocking, not really. You’d gotten calls like this before, but not for a few years. He used to call a lot, when he first started getting into trouble, asking for money for a lawyer. At the time, you hadn’t had any to give him. Eventually those specific calls stopped. You still heard from him, but not through a call being recorded by a prison. 
He hadn’t been arrested in 5 years. And now… the stakes were much higher. 
“Hello?” The deep voice of your brother came over the line, sounding utterly defeated. 
“Leo.” You sighed. “What happened?” 
“I fucked up. I… Will wanted to start football. But I couldn’t… I couldn’t pay for boots for him. I just wanted to get him something nice.” Leo choked out. You could hear the emotion in his voice, and ignored the pang in your chest as you pictured the little boy just two years older than you, lip trembling as he promised he’d take care of everything. 
“Leo, why didn’t you call me? And ask for help?” 
“I didn’t want to bother you. You’re busy and I should be able to provide for my son. I shouldn’t have to ask my little sister for help, I should have it figured out.” 
“So… this is better? Getting arrested for petty theft and then calling me for help?” You asked sarcastically, though you understood him more than you’d admit. The need to be independent, completely self sufficient. The sinking feeling you’d get when you had to ask for help with something… you still felt that, too.
Your brother was quiet for a moment. Long enough that dread started to build up inside of you again. 
“It’s not petty theft.” He said finally. “It’s grand theft. And accessory to assault. The guy I was working with went a bit rogue.” 
“Jesus.” You sighed. “How long?” 
Another long silence. 
“How long, Leo?”
“10-15 years.” 
You could practically see the tears falling from his eyes in your head, and you knew just by his tone he wasn’t calling for money. Not this time. You could see Alexia out of the corner of your eye, hovering in the doorway uncertainly. 
“I… I signed the papers, to give you custody of Will. To make it easier to take him back to Spain with you. He’d be yours, and I know it’s a lot to ask, and if I had any other option, I would, but the only other option is putting him in the system, and I don’t want that for him. I don’t. I’m so sorry to ask this of you, really I–”
“It’s okay.” You breathed. “It’s alright. Of course, I’ll take him. Of course I will.”
Alexia moved closer, resting a hand on your shoulder once she noticed the tears in your eyes. You let her anchor you, suddenly very sure that this was it with her. Today had been the last nice day you’d have with her, and you hadn’t even known it. 
 But there wasn’t a question of whether you’d do it or not. 
“Are you sure? With your career and–”
“I can make it work.” You said. “I’ll make it work.” 
“Okay.” Leo replied, sounding overwhelmingly relieved. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish I–” 
“I’ll be there as soon as I can to get him.” You cut in, unwilling to hear another apology. It wouldn’t fix anything.
 Leo gave you the name of the woman to call, before saying goodbye and hanging up. Even after the call ended, you remained frozen, thinking through all the details, all the things you needed to do, unsure where to start. 
“Amor?” 
Right. That’s where you had to start. 
You turned to Alexia, your face completely impassive. It was the face you made when the team lost and you were upset, or when you got hurt and didn’t want to cry. It was you running from vulnerability, and it had been a long time since Alexia had seen you make it towards her. She’d thought you were past this. 
“My brother was arrested. I’m getting custody of his son. Will. He’s 5. I’m going to bring him back to Spain with me.” You spoke robotically, eyes fixed on a point on the wall just beyond Alexia’s shoulder. 
“Oh… oh wow.” Alexia breathed, nodding her head slowly as she took the information in. 
“It’s a good thing I didn’t get rid of my old apartment. I’ll move my stuff when I get back, you don’t need to worry about any of it. I’ll move back in there and–”
“Why would you do that?” Alexia interrupted, her face twisted with confusion. You looked at her for a moment, her brown roots growing out and the oversized t-shirt she had on. It was soft, your favorite for her to wear because you loved the way the fabric felt on your skin when she held you. 
God this was hard.  
“I… I won’t do this to you, Ale. I won’t. You don’t need this, but I have to–”
“No. Stop. We are not breaking up, and you are not moving out.” 
You turned away from her when you saw the tears in her eyes, clenching your fists tightly and taking a few slow deep breaths. She was making this so hard, but you should have known she would. 
“Alexia,” you began, your voice abruptly cutting off when the midfielder gently grabbed you by the shoulders and turned back towards her. 
“No. No.” She repeated, shaking her head over and over. “Do you love me?” 
You exhaled sharply, desperately wanting to wipe the tear off her cheek. To cradle her face in your hands, and kiss her frown away. You should lie, that would be the best choice. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. 
“I do, Ale. I love you so much. That’s why–”
“Then that’s it. You love me and I love you and people who love each other do not break up.” Alexia said firmly, her lip trembling even as she bit it to make it stop. 
“Alexia, please. It’s okay. You don’t have to do this with me, I could never ask you to.” 
“You are not asking. I am telling you. I am not going anywhere, and neither are you. You bring Will here and we’ll figure it out together. Together, amor.” 
She moved closer, her hands cradling your cheeks, wiping your tears away just as you’d wanted to do with hers. Somehow, she was convincing you. Like she always did. Whenever it felt too unbelievable that she loved you, whenever you became absolutely convinced that you’d tricked her or something, and tried to leave for her. She always convinced you to stay, because she knew you never really wanted to leave her. 
“It’s gonna be a lot.” You murmured, your hands finding their way to her waist, your body giving in before your brain did. “It’s gonna be really hard, especially with work.” 
“We can do it. Together.” Alexia promised, leaning forward to dust a kiss across the tip of your nose. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to do it together, okay? Don’t push me out. Please.” 
“Okay.” You allowed, finally giving in and leaning into her. She wrapped her arms around your body, squeezing so tight it almost hurt. 
“Promise me? No pushing me away.” She whispered into your ear. 
“I promise.” You breathed the words back, knowing, somehow, that you wouldn’t break this promise. Never before had you gone back on something you’d promised Alexia, and you didn’t intend to start now. 
The plane ride had been long, and though you were already exhausted, you hadn’t slept a wink. You were wide awake when the plane took off, and wide awake when it landed hours later. Some sleep would have really done you some good, but there was nothing to do about that now. 
It was really an amalgamation of all of your least favorite things. The social services office was just as bad as you remembered it. Just as… lonely, regardless of how incredibly crowded it was. It was overly beige, from the walls down to the outfit the woman sitting across from you was wearing. Susan. Even her name sounded beige. Then, there was the paperwork. An endless pile of it on the desk in front of you. Your hand was starting to cramp from signing, and all you wanted was to see Will. Physically see him, make sure he was okay. He was somewhere in this building, surrounded by strangers. It was impossible not to picture him, all small and scared in an office, wondering if you were really coming for him. 
You remembered that feeling. No one had ever come for you and Leo. 
But you were here for Will. You were here for him, and it didn’t matter too much that he barely knew you; at least, that's what you told yourself. 
You were his aunt that lived far away in Spain, that sent at least three presents for his birthday every year, and three more for Christmas. You talked to him on the phone every so often, and Leo liked to send a picture of Will wearing your kit every few months. He liked dinosaurs and crafts, and he adored your brother. Will’s mom had never been in the picture; you’d never met her, never even gotten Leo to tell you her name. It was just the two of them, and you knew it was hard. You didn’t know it was this hard for your brother, though. You’d have stepped in much sooner if you’d known. 
Signing the last piece of paper, you inhaled deeply and slid it back across the desk towards Susan. 
“Okay! That’s everything in order. It would be a lot more complicated if your brother hadn’t signed over his rights. Great foresight of him, to have the paperwork all ready!”
Yeah. Great foresight. Leo clearly possessed that. 
“I’ll go get Will! Like I said before, he’s been having a tough time, but the minute he arrived here he asked for you, telling us he was supposed to make sure that his Aunt came for him if anything ever happened to his Dad. I think he’ll settle once he finally sees you.” 
Susan smiled kindly, stepping away from the desk and briskly walking down the hall. 
The words settled something in you that worried Will wouldn’t want to go with you, while at the same time, making you so incredibly frustrated. Leo could make sure to prepare Will for this exact situation to occur, yet he couldn’t avoid committing felonies? 
Before you could think too hard about what to say or do, there he was. Walking slowly down the hall next to Susan, a blue dinosaur clutched tightly to his chest. His brown hair fell messily around his head, in a way that reminded you of your brother. He was small, wearing a sweatshirt and shorts and a pair of velcro shoes. Small and scared, his face creased with anxiety and fear, even as he approached you. 
“Here she is!” Susan said encouragingly, gently nudging Will closer when he came to a stop just in front of you. He was gazing up at you with wide, unsure eyes, and you could see tear tracks on his cheeks, his eyes red and puffy. He was so small. 
It was instinctual, something you didn’t even know you possessed that had you kneeling down and opening your arms. Will’s forehead un-creased just slightly, and he rushed forward, wrapping his arms tight around your neck. 
“Hey, buddy. Everything’s okay now. I’ve got you.” You whispered, holding tightly to the little boy that was clinging onto you as if you were the last stable thing in the world. And you supposed you were; in his world at least. 
Will exhaled shakily. For the first time in two whole days, he felt just a tiny bit safe. He didn’t know you well, granted, but his Daddy had always told him that if there was an emergency, to make sure to call you. He’d taught Will how to click your contact and call. Will hadn’t been sure you’d come. You lived far away, and he barely ever saw you. The two of you were strangers practically. But Leo had always told Will that you’d come for him if he needed you. And Leo had never broken a promise to Will before… Well not until the other day, he’d waited in the office at school for a whole hour after the bell rang. When someone came for him, it wasn’t his Dad. It was a police officer with a mustache and a mean face, and all Will could do was cry, and make sure that the police officer knew he had to call you. And though the details Will had been given were few, he knew his Dad had been bad and he was in trouble. Big trouble. The police officer had sounded all angry and stern when he’d told Will this, softening only slightly when Will asked when he’d get to see his Dad again.
The police officer hadn’t answered, instead telling Will that he was being taken to the social services office, where he’d wait to figure out what the next steps were. 
Will had waited for you, and even though the nice lady had told him you were coming, it took a while. More than one day, but he couldn’t quite remember. It felt like forever. 
But now you were here, and you’d given him a hug that felt like the hugs his Dad gave him, and he didn’t feel like he had to try to be brave anymore. Your arms didn’t loosen around him even as you stood up, and Will let himself relax. Just for a moment. 
“We going to Spain?” Will wondered, gripping two of your fingers when you held out your hand towards him. He trotted along next to you as you headed from the social services building down the block to your hotel. 
“Yeah. Barcelona.” You affirmed. Luckily, Will had been able to talk to Leo on the phone, and Leo told him what the plan was. 
“Bar-sa-lonuh? Or Spain?” 
“Barcelona is a city in Spain.” You clarified. “We’ll go there on a plane tomorrow morning.” 
“Is it a big plane?” 
“It’s a pretty big plane. Have you ever been on a plane before?” 
Will shook his head, brown curls blowing backwards slightly in the wind.
“It’ll be fun. We’ll get snacks and… pick out a few movies to watch. And you can sleep if you want to.” 
“Snacks and movies?” Will repeated. 
“Yes! Does that sound fun?” You tried to sound excited even though there wasn’t really anything you were dreading more than the long flight with a five year old. 
Will just shrugged, his hand tightening around your fingers. You shifted the strap of his big duffel bag so it was further up on your shoulder, stopping just outside the hotel and bending down so you were eye level with him. 
“I know it’s a lot of change, Will. And I know you don’t know me very well but–” 
“My Daddy said you’re nice. And that you’ll take good care of me.” Will whispered, tearing up as he remembered the phone call he’d gotten to have with his father this morning. Leo had called you right after, himself trying to hold it together as he explained he told Will that you were coming for him. 
“I’m going to do my very best to take good care of you. We’re gonna figure it out together, alright?” 
Will nodded slowly, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his eye with his fist. “Alright.” 
You figured that was the best you’d get, for now. 
“Tia?” Will whispered. You turned, finding him all tucked into one of the double beds, the covers pulled up to his chin. He was so small, the dinosaur pajamas he’d pulled out of his duffel bag a bit too big on him. ‘Dad said I’d grow into them if I ate my vegetables’, Will had said. Your brother was many things, and a good father was one of them. He was giving you a huge responsibility and huge shoes to fill. 
Refocusing on Will and not how much he looked like your brother, you smiled, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. 
“What’s up, buddy?” You asked, hesitating for a moment before reaching and out brushing one of his curls away from his face. His whole body relaxed at the motion, and he looked a bit more confident as he opened his mouth to speak again. 
“Do we have to go to Spain? We… we can’t stay here?” 
Your heart twisted in your chest. You thought of your brother's words on the phone the past few days. He’d repeated it a few times, as if knowing the doubt you’d carry. 
You can’t leave Spain. You have a career and a life there. Will speaks a bit of Spanish, and he’ll adjust. He needs to be with you, and you need to be where you’re going to be happy. That will be the best thing for him.
Leo spoke with a wisdom in his voice that used to infuriate you, but you’d decided to trust the big brother voice, this time. Because he was Will’s dad, and he knew what Will needed. 
“We have to go to Spain.” You confirmed. Will frowned, an unhappy look on his face that tore at your emotions. “I know, it’s going to be an adjustment. But your Dad told me to take you there, and he always knows best, right?” 
Will looked conflicted. “I like it here.”
“I know, I know you do.” You paused, thinking once again back to your brother's advice. 
Talk to him like he’s a person, not a baby. He’s a smart kid, he’ll understand. 
“I play football in Spain. It’s my job there, so that’s where we have to be for now. But you’ll like it, I promise. It’s warm and sunny and it has really good food. Alexia is there, and I know you’ll love her, and she’s so excited to meet you in person.” 
Thankfully, Will had met Alexia over facetime before, and knew that you were together. You didn’t have to introduce the idea to him, as he’d somehow already seemed to know it wouldn’t just be the two of you when you arrived in Spain. 
Will looked doubtful, and you could see the anxiety clearly written across his face. His features were so like Leo’s, and it was the same face your brother always had when he was nervous about something. The same face you had when you were nervous about something. 
“Why don’t you ask me questions about Spain? And I’ll answer them, and then you’ll know more before we get there.” 
Will was a talker, that much you knew. And so the questions began, about the food in Spain, about school in Spain, about the team you played for, and whether there were dinosaur toys there. Question after question, until you laid down on the bed next to him, eyes barely open. 
“Do you live in a house in Spain?” Will asked, his energy still in full force as he asked what felt like the 500th question of the evening. 
“An apartment, but you’ll have your own room.” 
“And Alexia lives there?” 
You nodded groggily. 
“Does she speak Spanish?” 
“She does, but she also speaks English.” 
Will hummed. “My Dad was teaching me some Spanish for when we met Alexia. He said your tia taught you both Spanish and that's why I call you tia because that’s Spanish for aunt.” 
At this, you cracked a smile, forcing your eyes open as you nodded. “That’s true. We lived with our tia for a while and she taught us Spanish.” 
“Is it hard to learn? I’m not very good.” Will wondered, his questions seemingly endless. 
“Mmm, not hard. You’ll pick it up quickly, especially at school and with Alexia helping you with it.” 
“Is she nice?” 
“She’s very nice.” You promised, eyes flying open when you realized you had a text from Alexia you hadn’t yet read or responded to. Will yawned hugely as you pulled your phone out of your sweatshirt pocket, and you smiled down at him again. 
“Go to sleep, buddy. I can answer more questions tomorrow.” 
With a small grunt of agreement and another yawn, he rolled over. Right into you, his head resting against your arm. It was indescribable, the soft feeling that filled your heart. Soft adoration, even as you stilled the left side of your body completely so as not to disturb him. 
You didn’t know much about kids, but it seemed you knew enough. For now. 
Finally, you opened Alexia’s text, tears pooling in your eyes as you read her words. 
Amor! I hope everything is going well. You’re doing great already, I am sure of it. I stopped at the store and got a few things for Will. You said he likes dinosaurs, sí?I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow. I can’t wait to hug you. 
God, you couldn’t wait to see her. It wasn’t very odd for the two of you to spend a night apart, but something about this felt different. You missed her deeply, fully, needed her to hold you and promise everything was going to be okay. The anxiety of how this whole new life would work was almost overshadowed by your excitement to see her again. 
Almost. 
Will was a pretty well behaved kid, you’d learned. Very sleepy when he woke up in the morning, but he snapped right out of it when you asked him what he wanted to download to watch on the plane. He very eagerly selected three disney movies, and you realized with a pang to your chest that all three were movies you and your brother had grown up on. 
All three were Leo’s favorites, if you remembered right. 
And now they were Will’s. 
Not being the biggest fan of crowds, the airport clearly made your nephew nervous. He fidgeted his little hands together, walking so close to you that he ran into you every time you stopped. His hand would dart out to grab onto the hem of your t-shirt whenever anyone got too close to him, and he almost cried when the security agent made him walk through the metal detector by himself. 
You figured this made sense, that after his whole world had been turned upside down, of course he’d attached himself onto the most stable thing he could find. That happened to be you. It was just… odd. Something you weren’t used to. The checklist you’d made on your phone helped, reminding you to ask Will if he had to go to the bathroom, if he was hungry or thirsty, if he had any more questions about the plane. It was more than terrifying, honestly, that you were suddenly fully responsible for this small boy. 
There was stress, of course. But there was also something so… incredibly different in the way Will pressed his face to the glass of the plane window, staring wide eyed as the plane took off. For every moment you worried you were messing up, even in the first 24 hours, there were 10 moments where Will rested his head against your shoulder or reached for your hand, or offered you one of his animal crackers with a smile that had you convinced that for your nephew, maybe you could do this. 
“I can walk, Tia.” Will mumbled, squirming slightly in your arms. 
You chuckled, rubbing his back softly. “It’s okay, buddy, it’s crowded and I know that makes you nervous.”  
You’d picked him up a moment ago, after noticing how terrified he looked at the massive crowds making their way through the airport. It was a struggle to wrangle both of your bags in one hand, while holding Will in the other, but you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. You took two steps towards the exit before you had to stop and readjust, wishing you had another pair of hands here to help. 
Alexia had texted that she was there, and though you’d assumed that meant she was outside in her car, your eyes met hers across the bustling baggage claim before you had to take another step. 
Your whole body practically sagged with relief, your bags falling to the ground where you stood as Alexia made her way over to you both, a concerned and sympathetic smile on her face. 
“Mi amor,” she greeted, softly kissing your temple and pulling you into as much of a hug as she could manage with Will still in your arms. 
“Hi.” You choked out, almost in tears at the sight of her. Here, in front of you, at the perfect time. With a smile on her face, already reaching for your bags. 
“Hi, Will.” She said gently. 
Will peaked out from where his face had become hidden in your neck, relaxing a bit when he saw the semi familiar face. 
“Hi.” He whispered back, turning his face back in towards you and shutting his eyes. 
“He’s tired.” You explained, but Alexia just waved you off, beginning to lead you from the airport to the parking garage. It was much easier now that you only had to worry about carrying Will, who was quickly becoming dead weight in your arms as he drifted off. 
“Of course he is, it has been a long few days. I bet you’re exhausted too. We can go home and go right to sleep, sí? We can worry about anything else tomorrow.” 
You nodded your agreement, not even wanting to contemplate the state of your to do list at the moment, though it was getting harder and harder to ignore. 
As you arrived at the car, you shouldn’t have been surprised by the car seat perfectly installed in the back of Alexia’s car. You’d mentioned needing one to her, but for some reason… you half expected her to forget. Or get the wrong one. You weren’t sure why, but it was just something that you thought you’d have to do. 
Yet when you opened the door to the back seat, it was all done for you. The perfect size for Will, buckled in correctly and everything. You carefully deposited him in the seat and buckled him in, before turning to Alexia, once again with tears in your eyes. 
“Thank you for getting that.” You mumbled, shutting the car door as quietly as you could. 
“Of course.” Alexia said easily, her lips curving into a smile as she opened her arms for you. You practically collapsed into them, gripping tight to your girlfriend as she did the same to you. 
“I missed you so much.” You cried. 
“I missed you too, mi amor. You have no idea.” Alexia whispered back, her hand threading through your hair as she just held you for a moment. Eventually she leaned down to press her lips to yours. You kissed her back, taking in the feel of her hands as they cupped your jaw, her fading blonde hair tickling the side of your face. 
When you pulled back from the kiss, she was still gazing at you so lovingly it made your heart burst. 
“Let’s get you both home.” She suggested, and you nodded your agreement, needing nothing more than to be home in that moment. 
The relief you felt when you finally stepped back into your apartment wasn’t complete relief. Because you were home, but everything was different. There was a whole other person that had to fit into your life now, and you didn’t even know where to begin carving out a space for him. There was figuring out a school that could accommodate a five year old that spoke very little Spanish. Then there was finding childcare for when training didn’t perfectly align with school, or when the team was traveling. Would you bring Will with for away games? 
The issues you needed to address were seemingly endless, but most urgently was that the extra bedroom was not fit for a child. It had a double bed, which would work for now, but didn’t leave much room for anything else. What did a kid even need in his bedroom? 
Toys, of course. 
Books. 
A desk? 
A dresser? Or would the closet be enough? 
God he would need more clothes. 
And food that he'd like to eat. 
And shampoo and conditioner for kids. Those were different from adult hair products, right? 
That was most urgent, you decided. Making your home a home for him. 
“We should go shopping tomorrow.” You murmured, shifting Will in your arms a bit as you headed for the guest bedroom. He’d fallen asleep in the car and it was night, so it made sense for him to keep sleeping. 
What time did kids his age go to bed? 7? 8? You had no idea. Another question to answer. 
With a gentle hand on your back guiding you down the hall, Alexia hummed in agreement, but you missed the small smile on her face. “I bought a few things.” She reminded you. 
Your assumption was that a few things were a pair of pajamas, a new toy. A book, maybe? But when Alexia stepped around you to push the bedroom door open, your jaw dropped. 
A few things, apparently, was an entirely redecorated room. A beautifully redecorated room. The walls were no longer white; instead they were painted a soft green. A wooden twin bed sat in the corner, a green canopy hanging the tall headboard and footboard. The bed was covered in a green comforter, a soft throw blanket, and 4 different pillows. A long shelf sat just under the large window, filled with toys and books. There was a separate toy box next to the bookshelf, overflowing with even more toys; cars and books and dolls and stuffed animals. Everything. Wall decor, a rug, a dresser, a cozy chair in the corner next to a lamp. 
Alexia had thought of everything. And if you’d had any doubts about her dedication to this, to you, to Will, you no longer did. Alexia had done what you’d been too preoccupied to think of and made Will a space that was entirely his own, a place he could feel safe and comforted. She’d made your home his home without a second thought. 
Without a word, you walked further into the room, choking back a sob as you laid a still sleeping Will down carefully on the bed. He shifted in his sleep, snuggling close to the soft pillows as you draped the throw blanket over him. 
When you finally turned back towards your girlfriend, she was hovering in the doorway, chewing on her bottom lip as she gazed at you worriedly. 
“Too much?” She whispered. 
You barely held back the scoff that would have been much too loud, crossing the room quickly and throwing your arms around her. 
“No. Perfect. You're perfect. Thank you.” You mumbled into her neck, pressing kiss after kiss to the skin you found there. Alexia tightened her hold, walking the two of you backwards and out the door so you didn’t wake Will. 
“Are you crying?” Alexia asked, her thumb tracing across your cheek bone as she leaned back from your embrace. 
You sniffled pathetically, leaning back in to press your forehead to Alexia’s chest and steady yourself. 
“I was just so overwhelmed and you did this and it’s perfect Ale. Thank you. Thank you.” 
Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head, squeezing you tightly. 
“You don’t have to thank me. I promised, no? I’m here. We are doing this together.” 
“I love you.” You cried, overwhelmed with love and wonder at what an incredible person your girlfriend was. You’d already known, but she always found a way to surprise you, doing something so absurdly kind and thoughtful that you were struck all over again with how good she was. 
“I love you too.” Alexia replied, swaying the two of you back and forth gently. 
There were still a lot of unknowns. A lot of problems to solve and things to figure out. But you’d never been more sure that you could do it. It wasn’t ideal, but you had Alexia and that was certainly ideal. 
JUST finished this so PLEASE tell me if you catch a typo also planning more parts to this but i'm VERY open to ideas if you have them :)
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hannieween · 3 months ago
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playing dumb | yoon jeonghan
› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: loser jeonghan, grad student jeonghan, grad student reader › genres: fluff, smut (18+) › word count: 6.6k
› 🎧easy – jaehyun | cream soda – exo (lol) | feeling lucky – bibi
› this one shot is part of my hannieween fest/kinktober special!
› warnings after the cut! READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️
› warnings: smut with little to no plot, dom reader, sub jeonghan, jeonghan is a little pervy, oral fixation, big cock jeonghan, jeonghan is a little bit inexperienced in sex, oral sex, hand job, use of sex toys (cock ring), overstimulation, dacryphilia, early ejaculation, cumming on skin, a bit of hair pulling, dirty talk, a little bit of humiliation kink again, a little bit of praise kink, corruption kink, slight exhibitionism. pet names: pretty boy, baby boy (his) baby (hers)
› acknowledgements: @kwanisms @cheolism @whipped-for-kpop-fics, @junekissed for helping me come up with ideas for this fic, and terminology bits, thank you. i couldn't have done it without u. i love you 🩵
› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.
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JEONGHAN LIFTED HIS ARM IN THE AIR, LETTING OUT A QUIET GRUNT.
“Yes, do you have a question?” the professor asked, seeing his arm in the crowd of people listening to her lecture.
Jeonghan finished yawning, shaking his head. “Just stretching.”  
A stillness blanketed the room as your fellow classmates bore their eyes into the man sitting next to you. Shaking your head, you tried hard not to roll your eyes at his lack of correctness, or self-awareness.
Professor Blackwood resumed her lecture, unbothered by the small interruption. Granted, in her years of experience, a restless student like Jeonghan might be inconsequential.
But he was puzzling to you. One look around the room would be sufficient to determine that he was the one standing out from the students sitting in the sloped tiers of the lecture hall.
It was not only his attire, a pastel pink hoodie, gray sweatpants, and a pair of worn white sneakers. But his attitude… his attitude was your biggest gripe with him. While everyone was immersed in the lecture, writing down notes on their tablets or computers, he was absentmindedly toying with the string of his hoodie. 
Sometimes, he would shift in his seat, letting out a loud cough that broke the stiltedness of the lecture, or would make the most out of the ordinary question to the professor, causing a pause.
You could tell out of the corner of your eye that he was bored, crossing one ankle on his knee, he had started to shake his foot.
You could have sworn you hated him at that moment, but the lecture was boring if you dared admit it. As much as you had wanted to listen to the lecture, compiling notes and questions for it, it had dragged on.
For one thing, political language in works of fiction wasn't something you had much interest in delving into, so it had been a real disappointment for you to learn that it was boring.
Jeonghan shifted on his seat again, sighing through his nose. He could just get up and leave. But he never did. Part of you believed that he was just too much of a pretentious guy to actually leave, as though he did not want to miss the opportunity to be the most annoying person in the room.
You found yourself sighing too out of boredom, making Jeonghan stir on his seat and direct a quick glance at you. You did not need to use your peripheral vision to know that he was smiling to himself, the quiet exhale told you that much. 
“Now moving on to Foucault’s discourse on Orwell’s 1984…” The professor changed slides of the presentation for the third time in the one hour you had been listening and something in you twisted in great annoyance, but you did not let it show.
Jeonghan however had resorted to creating shapeless doodles on the margins of the book splayed on the table. The book was so tattered and beaten that you could not believe it was brand new just a week ago when Jeonghan brought it with him. You had seen him remove the plastic from its shiny cover to proceed then to crack and bend the spine like it was his sworn enemy.
The little or no attention he paid to the books he acquired for the courses was irritating. He would scribble on the pages, underline paragraphs with whatever pen he could get his hands on, and bend the corners of the pages so he would not miss the last one he read. On one occasion, you saw him tear out the first few pages of a book he was reading and then make little paper airplanes.
Even if he wore a different ridiculously oversized hoodie every day, his attitude would catch the attention of anyone who looked around. The rest of the people sitting in the lecture had a different behavior. While everyone, including you, was prim and proper, he was just plain laid back always.
So, why did you have a bone to pick with him? Well, despite his evident boredom, he was top of the class. And you were a little bit of an overachiever. Not only that, ever since Jeonghan discovered how easy it is to get under your skin, he has done it constantly, like it is his favorite pastime.
Jeonghan knew how to get under your skin, and also on it.
You smoothed your hands over your lap, your fingertips brushing at the hem of your pencil skirt. Suddenly, your seat started to grow hot, not quite literally, no. This was a feeling purely set by the thought of Jeonghan being on your skin, just like he was last Friday night.
Jeonghan saw the motion of your hands, your skirt hiked up on your thighs, giving him a view of your skin. He subconsciously stuck a pen between his lips, and you saw the pink tip of his wet tongue, making you press your thighs together. When that did not work, you crossed one leg over, pressing as hard as you could.
The skirt inched up on your thighs. There was a sparkle in his eyes, he was sure your focus was on him now. Memories mixed with fantasies flew inside your head, making it impossible to resume listening to the lecture, now you were lost in wanting, in the need to recreate what you had done on impulse a few nights before.
Jeonghan shifted on his seat, spreading his legs a little. Your eyes widened slightly, the air leaving your lungs upon getting a clear sight of the outline of his growing erection peaking on the gray sweats he wore.
You bit your bottom lip in an attempt to pull yourself together, but instead, your fingers itched to reach out and grab him.
He stilled, reading your body language. For a minute you wondered if he believed you to be capable of grabbing him under the desk and jerking him off in the middle of the lecture. As he pushed his hips forward slightly, you saw how hard he was, his boner leaning on his thigh. He was thinking of the same thing you were.
Now, Jeonghan does not know what got into you that night, but he is thankful as fuck that something did.
Closing your eyes, you exhaled softly through your nose. You hated him. You hated that he knew how to get your attention, whether it was with his stupid behavior during class, or tempting you to tell him to repeat what happened that Friday night.
That Friday night.
All you had to do was film a video for a paired task.
Somehow, everyone had already been paired when you went out looking for any potential partners to do the task. “I’m up for it if you don’t find anyone,” Jeonghan had said timidly.
There was nothing more to his offer, and he was the best in the class, so you thought it could be an opportunity to finally put those unconformities you had with him to rest.
Except that, your little attempt at doing the task failed miserably by a long shot.
It never crossed your mind that you would ever get to see his place. A very simple studio, with everything necessary, but it still looked very minimalist, except for the corner where there were stacks of books against the wall, rising up almost to your height.
You wished to say that one thing led to the other. But you did not know what was going through your head when you gave him a kiss.
Jeonghan was sitting on the floor, trying to read from the set of prompts you had prepared beforehand to make things quicker and finish your paired task. Around him on the floor laid the pages of his copy of Frankenstein, which he had mutilated because it helped him find his notes easier.
This is the guy who practically steals the top-grade award every semester. If he went to another program, you would get those awards.
While Jeonghan’s book remained scattered on the floor, your own Frankenstein copy sat on your lap. It was a hardback, and the only modifications it had suffered were adhesive notes sticking to the corners where you had made note of all the important stuff.
You leaned over on the floor, pretending to take a look at the pages sitting beside his legs. He stole glances at you, thinking that you were perhaps looking elsewhere, at your phone, or your nails like you sometimes do during class.
But no, you were pensively outlining the features of his face. Jeonghan had a thing for biting his bottom lip or pushing his tongue on it. There was a beauty mark adorning his cheek daintily. The heavy set of eyelashes made you envy him a little, but the bitter feeling would fade every time his eyes found yours.
Jeonghan was truly one of the most beautiful people you have ever seen. He used his fingers to tuck a rebellious strand of hair behind his ear, stealing another glance at you. He was nervous, you could tell from the way his breath sounded shaky as he let out another exhale through his nose.
You have seen him play with his tongue a lot before. Besides constantly licking his lips, he tends to stick the tip of his pen between his lips, keeping the tip of his tongue pushed out between his teeth. It was distracting, but not for the right reasons.
Sometimes, your mind would wander during class with thoughts about the places you would want to feel that tongue. Other times, when he fidgeted a lot with his hands, you would think about his fingers, his knuckles brushing against places you wanted him to feel.
“Jeonghan,” you blurted, commanding his eyes to you as you leaned over to him, knowing that would give more access to his gaze to wander over your cleavage. “I know you’re not reading that, look at me.”
The intrigue in his eyes was also nearly palpable in the room. Part of you could not really believe what you were about to do, you wondered for how long you had felt like this for Jeonghan. You were about to find out.
“What?” he frowned slightly, his gaze trying to read you but getting no clarity. The tips of his ears were red, and you noticed then, they got red whenever he talked to you. Or any girl for that matter.
“Look at me,” you repeated, but his eyes were already on you, trying to figure you out. There was something about him, maybe it was the stupid clothes he wore, or that he got a nervous stutter whenever you were near him.
Maybe it was the fact that you found it cute that he refused to wear his glasses to school, forced to squint at the board every time. Or that you thought it adorable to find out that behind him he had a collection of mini figurines on his desk.
The truth was, there was something about Yoon Jeonghan. Maybe it was the ridiculous yellow hoodie he was wearing that night, or that he got nervous every time you went near him.
Jeonghan was a loser. And you kind of liked that about him.
“Do you want to fuck?”
His pretty eyes widened in shock, but he tried to mask it off quickly, blinking a couple of times without looking anywhere else but your face. “What?” he asked quietly and very slowly, as if he was not sure of what he heard, of having hallucinated what you said.
“Do you want to fuck?” you repeated, dragging out the words for him with a small cooing tone. As you said each word, his gaze went over the features of your face, his eyes widening once again when you finished uttering the question.
“Wh-what about the assignment?” he stuttered, visibly trying to keep his cool.
“I’m bored. And we could finish it later,” you shrugged slightly, putting on your best confident face. Part of you found it cute that his first instinct was to ask about the assignment, and not why you wanted to fuck him all of a sudden.
Jeonghan paused to ponder, and you could see on his face that the gears in his brain had begun to turn. “Are you kidding me?” he stuttered, licking his lips anxiously. “Is this some sort of trick?”
You replied by giving him a soft smile, tilting your head to one side. “Sit on the bed,” you whispered, close enough to his face that you could see each of his individual lashes.
At the sound of your command, Jeonghan could not resist himself any further. Whatever protest he had thought, he brushed them all away with a blink of his pretty eyes. He rose to his feet, turned away and sat on the bed, his hands placed neatly on his lap.
Now it was your turn to contemplate him for a second. “How would I be tricking you?” you mused, getting to your feet to stand in front of him.
He raised his gaze to meet yours, his mouth parting slightly as he swallowed nervously. “I-I don’t know, I��” he blinked slowly, smiling in pure shyness at his own stuttering. “Why would you want to f-fuck me?”
“Mm,” you hummed, inching closer to him so you could reach out and hold his face. “Like I said I’m bored,” you mumbled, bringing up a finger to touch the tip of his nose. “And you, Jeonghan, are terribly skittish… it’s nagging.”
“Sorry,” he said hoarsely, clearing his throat, blinking repeatedly as you dragged the pad of your finger to caress his cheek. “I-I still don’t get why-,”
“Don’t play coy, Jeonghan, it doesn’t suit you,” you smirked, enjoying the way he trembled beneath the tip of your finger. “I think you’re cute.”
“Cute?” he chuckled dryly, his gaze falling far in the room as if he were directing it to an imaginary camera behind you in sheer incredulity. “What the fuck?”
But his eyes found your face again when you sunk your fingers, threading his long dark hair from the crown of his head and then back. “I can’t really ignore the way you’ve been staring at my tits, Jeonghan, and I am in a bit of a giving mood.”
“Oh god,” he mouthed, shaking as his hands clutched the bedcovers beneath him. “Wh-what—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look-,”
“It’s okay,” you cut him off with a low coo. “You can stare, Hannie. In fact, tonight you can do more than that.”
“Wh-what?” he repeated slowly. “More?”
You nodded, smiling gently at the confusion plastered on his face. Driving that confusion deeper, your fingers coiled in his hair, giving a tug. “Do you want to kiss me, Jeonghan?”
His eyes immediately traveled to your lips, giving you a small nod with his head. “Yeah, I do,” he said faintly.
You smirked, trying to mask your own nervousness. “Don’t move,” you whispered, looking at his eyes and then his lips before dipping your head to meet his mouth with your own.
As you had intuited before: he was a good kisser. The slow and gentle pressing of your lips against his was matched in an instant in the same manner. Helping yourself with your hands on his hair, you tilted his head back, hugging his lips with your own in a deeper kiss. He hummed, which led you to think that he liked that.
“That was good,” you mumbled, pulling back to see his dark eyes glimmering.
You stopped cradling his head with your hands, taking them to your chest where you slowly started to undo each button of your dress shirt. His eyes followed your fingers as they trailed further down, your shirt parting to show your white lace bra.
“Oh, look at you,” you mumbled mockingly. “Hard already. Just by seeing my bra?”
Jeonghan shifted on his bed, his parted legs gave you the sight of the erection tenting his grey sweats. The tips of his ears could not get redder, and you saw how he trembled slightly due to a hard shudder coursing through him.
You allowed the dress shirt to fall from your shoulders and to the floor, uncovering your chest for his view. His mouth parted, and for a moment you thought he meant to say something but never found the courage to do it.
So you made it easier for him. “Do you want to touch me, Jeonghan?” you mumbled sweetly, tucking a strand of dark hair beneath his ear.
He appeared to be unable to speak, his gaze fighting to stay on your face instead of your tits bulging beneath your bra. “Ye-yes,” he whispered, wasting no time and raising his hands to cup your tits over your bra.
He did it sloppily, his fingers shaking slightly over the lacey hem of the cup of your bra. He licked his lips again, raising his eyes to meet yours, a question written on his bright eyes.
“I’ll give you another kiss if you unclasp my bra,” you mumbled with the ghost of a smirk on your face.   
His throat bobbed, a silent groan escaping him before his hands circled your back, fingers desperately searching for the hook of your bra.
“It’s on the front, Jeonghan,” you whispered with a soft smile.
“Oh…” he blurted with a nervous giggle, moving his hands to the front, looking at the intricate hook before giving it a try and unclasp it. “Ho-how do you do it? Like this?” he asked innocently, his fingers going around the clasp, undoing it by pure luck.
The bra came off, freeing your tits in a nearly obscene way. Jeonghan blinked as you slid your bra down your arms, making you smile wider at the shocked look on his face.
His eyes coasted from your face to your neck, from your collarbones to your chest. It was then that he pushed his tongue on his lower lip, right before sinking his teeth into it.
You grabbed his hands, taking them to your chest. His eager fingers squeezed your tits gently at first, a sigh escaping him when his hands came into contact with your skin. “You’re so warm,” he muttered softly.
“You’re cold,” you giggled, a shudder coursing through you when his fingers experimentally pinched your sensitive nipples.
“Sorry, I could just…” he whispered, making an attempt to remove his hands.
“No, it’s okay,” you mumbled, grabbing his face again, your fingers tangling in his mane of dark hair. “You deserve a kiss,” you said, keeping your touch gentle as you leaned down to kiss him again.
You felt the sharp intake of breath right as your lips touched his, he closed his lips on yours in a wet kiss. Jeonghan moved his hand to your waist, making you stiffen slightly under his cold touch.
Brushing his hair back, you moved a hand to hold his chin, while the other rested on his shoulder. “Are you ready for more?” you asked.
“Yeah, I want to keep going,” he replied with a weak tone.
“If you want to stop, you can say anything and I will,” you told him with seriousness coating your words.
He nodded, considering your proposition before saying: “We could establish a safeword.”
You arched one eyebrow, about to ask him if he was experienced in that. “How-,”
“I watch a lot of porn,” he explained hurriedly, noticing your expression. “I should also mention that I’m clean, and I have condoms… though they’re already expired,” he finished with a frown.
“That’s okay,” you chuckled, letting go of his chin. “I’m also clean, and on birth control. Well, what is your safeword?”
His eyes swam upwards, looking at the ceiling before returning to you. “Quixotic.”
You gave him a bemused look. “Can I ask why?”
“Because this is what it is, unreal. No one would believe me if I ever dared to tell a soul about this...” he said, his gaze trailing from your face down to your semi-naked body in front of him.
“Alright, baby boy,” you sighed, pleased with his reaction. “Are you okay with this, then?”
“A thousand percent,” he blurted, a shy smile adorning his face.
“I’m going to start undressing you now,” you said, carefully grabbing the sides of his hoodie.
“Ye-yeah, okay, go ahead,” he said, and you noticed that the stutter came and went. But he raised his arms, allowing you to remove his hoodie. He wore nothing beneath it, so you encountered his sleek torso.
“Lie down,” you instructed next, running your palms from his chest down, enjoying that his eyes were on you all the time, not losing a moment.
You searched around the room, spotting the mini figurines on his desk. They were hand-painted, and you assumed that they were special edition collectibles. “You have a lot of toys, Jeonghan,” you mumbled. “Did you put them all together?”
“Yes,” he croaked nervously. “All of them.”
“Such skilful hands,” you smirked, relishing in the awed look on his face upon being showered by your genuine praise. “Do you have more toys that you would want to show me?”
“Sh-sh-show you?” he whispered, and part of you believed for a second that he was unable to bring his voice any louder.
“Do you have toys for me to play around with? With you?” you asked, giving him a knowing look.
He gave you a perplexed look. “How did you know I-,”
“It’s not hard to guess, Hannie,” you tilted your head to one side, pouting slightly. “I mean, you don’t have a lot of girls over, do you? Do you go after other girls that aren’t me?”
“No. No,” he emphasized firmly. “You’re the first girl I’ve brought over in… like forever.”
“Mmn,” you hummed, pleased with his answer but not letting it show. “Well, tell me where I can find these toys,” you mumbled sweetly, littering lips with small, taunting kisses.
“In my drawer,” he choked out. “Bedside table.”
“Alright,” you leaned over, placing a sweet kiss on his bottom lip. “Don’t move,” you ordered, getting off the bed and his lap, to circle the bed, his gaze following you.
You smirked when you noticed that the only part of his body that moved was his eyes.
You opened the drawer, finding a bottle of lube that was already spent halfway through, a bunch of condoms that were indeed expired, and toys. “You have a wide variety here,” you pointed, giving him a look. “Do you play with yourself often?”
“Y-yeah,” he closed his eyes in shame. “Like I said, I don’t bring a lot of people over.”
“Mmmn,” you hummed, pretending to be pondering what to pick. Jeonghan indeed had a lot of toys, ranging from cock rings, dildos, fleshlights, and vibrators. “What shall I pick for tonight?”
“T-tonight? You mean there will be more nights like this?” he stammered uncontrollably.
“Only if you behave tonight,” you conditioned with a small smirk, but deep down you knew that he was going to be perfect for you.
And that was almost maddening.
“Pick whatever you prefer, I’m down,” he said, and you saw him grow a little bit more confident.
“I have an impression that you’re into cock rings,” you smirked at him, looking at the variety of cock rings he owned, some with vibrators, some without. You grabbed a simple set of two adjustable cock rings, which were slick and black.
Jeonghan shifted slightly on the bed as you returned to him, placing each of your knees on the sides of his hips. His hands tentatively found your hips, grabbing you over your skirt. “God,” he whispered to himself when you lowered the weight of your body on top of him, sitting on top of him.
It was then that you noticed by feeling his erection just how big he was. You shot him a look that told him you were impressed. “Jeonghan-,”
“I’d advise you to hurry,” he said, trembling slightly under your weight.
You emitted a nervous giggle despite yourself. “Don’t tell me you finish fast,” you said with a mocking tone, trying your best to mask your awe. You ground your hips, pressing your ass down on his bulge.
“Fuck,” he gritted with a tiny tone, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” you mumbled sweetly, leaning over to prop a light kiss on his bottom lip. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Hannie. In fact, we can have more fun with that.”
He blinked twice, a frown appearing on his face. “What? How?”
You brushed his cheek with the back of your finger, finishing by cupping his chin. “I could put this on you,” you motioned to the cock ring in your hand, “and I’ll have fun making you come again and again until you can’t anymore.”
An exhale escaped him, his eyes widening once again. “Fuck, please, yes, yes, please do that,” he blurted quickly, much as if he could not contain himself.
“Want me to use you, Hannie?” you asked, realizing that you had hit a weak point for him.
His eyelashes fluttered, a small choked-out sound coming from his lips. “Yes, please... use me.”
You smiled, pleased with his answer. “Let’s put this on you, baby boy,” you said, moving from his lap to stand before the foot of the bed. Hooking your fingers on the band of his sweat, you dragged them down his legs, leaving him with his white briefs only.
“Mmn,” you hummed quietly, looking at the way his erection was tenting his underwear.
Slowly, you tugged the fabric down, Jeonghan bit his bottom lip, keeping his gaze on your expression. The band of his briefs inched down, and his cock sprung free, resting on his lower abdomen.
Fuck. He was big, even bigger than you imagined when you felt him. You would take a while adjusting to his size, you knew it. Your mouth salivated at the thought, the thought of riding him raw, the thought of making him come inside you, over and over again. You wanted to make him yours, to ruin him.
“Let’s take this slow, yes?” you said primly, pressing a knee on the bed and between his legs to lean down and press kiss on his pretty lips.
“No, please, don’t take it slow,” he choked out, a hand sneaking beneath your skirt to feel your hip.
“I haven’t even touched you yet,” you emphasized with a smirk. “That bad you want me already?”
He nodded his head eagerly. “Suck me, fuck me, I don’t care, just have your fun with me,” he pressed, removing his hand from your hip.
“What if my kind of fun is to torture you slowly?” you tested him, studying him with your eyes.
His lower lip trembled slightly when you slid your hand from his chest down his abdomen. “I d-don’t wanna come too soon,” he said, cursing under his breath when your fingertip reached his pubic hair.
“Could you come untouched, then?” you wondered, quirking an eyebrow.
“I don’t know. Right now I feel like I could,” he replied.
You gave him a soft laugh. “Oh, I’m going to have fun with you,” you assured.
“Please do.”
Your fingers inched further down, circling around his shaft. A strangled gasp left him, his breath brushing against your lips, reciprocating your quick kiss as you started jerking him off slowly, exploring his cock.  “You know how many times I fantasized about this?” you asked with a low tone.
“This?” he closed his eyes. “I don’t know, once?”
“You constantly get on my nerves, Jeonghan,” you rolled your hand on his cock, smearing him all over with his precum leaking from its slit. “I wanted to have you like this since you started sitting next to me.”
“Really?” he breathed with the ghost of a smile. “I knew it.”
“You planned it?”
“I didn’t plan shit,” he blurted with a hollow laugh. “I hoped. I hoped you looked at me, I wanted to talk to you, but never could.”
The movement of your hand stilled. “All the things you did to nag me, you didn’t do them on purpose?”
“Not at first, no. I promise,” he smirked innocently. “I just noticed that you would pay attention to me, so I started to do it more frequently.”
Shock buried itself deep within you, making the features of your face go lax, and your mouth opened wide in shock. “Oh, you bad boy,” you whispered reproachingly, switching to a wide smile.
You moved back so you could get a better view of his body, his cock still in your hand. You were stroking him gently, but he was hard for you, his tip reddened and leaking precum as you had never seen another do.
“Yeah,” he said softly, noticing the light shock on your face. “Please hurry.”
“Alright,” you conceded at last, moving the cock ring on his shaft, adjusting it firmly to his girth, then you did the same to his ballsack. “How is that?” you asked with a gentler tone.
“I can take more,” he said, his brown eyes absorbing you.
“There?” you asked, adjusting the ring to strangle him a bit more.
“Ye-yeah,” he breathed, shifting on the bed in nervousness. “Fuck,” he said under his breath when you continued stroking him with one hand, checking him for any signs of discomfort but only finding pleasure on his face.
His mouth dropped open, his eyes fluttered before shutting, and his throat throbbed as he swallowed.
You leaned over, smirking to yourself before you gave him a broad stroke to his long shaft with your tongue.
“Fuck!” he forced out, his eyes snapping open.
You laughed, licking the reddened cockhead, picking up the precum that was leaking from the slit. Jeonghan was a babbling mess, trembling on his bedcovers, breathing raggedly. His face was priceless, scrunched up in utter bliss, his cock covered in your drool.
You teased the swollen ridge of his head with the tip of your tongue, licking it playfully with swift jabs, a hand squeezing his balls gently, the other stroking his long shaft, pushing him further for his early release.
What caught your attention was that he made no move to touch your head or your hair. His hands balled into fists, clenching the bedcovers in an attempt to hold a little longer.
But you continued pumping him with one hand, ignoring the way his eyes widened. Circling his cockhead with your lips, you began sucking it as you would a popsicle, making slurping sounds. You teased him like this, making you with the bulbous head of his cock, holding his gaze with your own.
The expressions he made were priceless, his mouth open, his eyes coasting from yours to your lips on him, to your hand pumping him.
“Ah–fuck, do-don’t—I’m gonna, I’m gonna, g-god,” he murmured quickly but gave you enough time to remove your mouth from his head.
It was too late, a long and pleased sigh left him as ropes of cum spurted from his tip, and just kept coming, dripping from his slit down to his shaft, covering your fingers around him. You cussed with a sigh, looking at the warm mess coating your hand, the beads of cum scattered on his lower abdomen.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he drawled pathetically, closing his eyes tightly. “Fuck, it just feels so good,” he said, mouthing apologetic words over and over.
“You’re good, baby,” you hushed, noticing the furious red tinting the tip of his ears in shame. “Can I keep going?”
He gulped before nodding with his head. “Yes,” he croaked, but his eyebrows drew inward slightly. “I want you to feel good too.”
“Don’t worry about me,” you said, stroking his shaft with your dirty hand, smearing him with cum all over. “I’m having fun.”
“But-but…” he trailed off when you moved, climbing down the bed.
Putting on a show, you finished undressing before him, removing your skirt and your ruined panties with your dainty fingers, leaving your high-knee socks on purpose. You climbed back on the bed, moving towards him, placing each knee at his sides on the bed.
Jeonghan just fell into a deeper fascination. You saw it on his face, how his features fell upon the sight of you utterly naked and on top of him.
“I said don’t worry,” you mumbled, stroking him gently again with your hand, enjoying that his cock was still hard. “I can make myself feel good, and you’re going to help me with that.”
“How?” he croaked.
“Well, we agreed that I’d use you, no?” you cooed softly. “And I want to suck you and ride you until you’re spent.”
His hands searched for you, his fingers caressing your legs, feeling you up timidly. He gave you a tiny nod with his head, unable to utter a word.
“You want that, baby?” you muttered, his cum already cooled in your hand but you just kept going. “You came so much, Hannie… I want you to do that when you’re inside me.”
“I-I… fuck. I want that too—all of that,” he said, now building up confidence. “I want to feel you, please?”
“Not before you come again like this,” the motion of your hand-picked up some speed, your fingers tightening around his shaft.
“No, please, please, I need to feel you,” he closed his eyes, tears falling from the corners when you moved back to wrap your mouth around his sensitive cockhead. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, no, no…”
He sucked in a breath, the grunts spilling from his lips only egging you on. You sucked him harshly, tasting his cum with your tongue pressed to the tip, hollowing your cheeks out as your hand kept pumping him relentlessly.
The ring helped keep his erection for longer, but something inside you told you that he could do this even without it. A cunning thought told you that he would be a great sub for you with little training.
“Too much,” he breathed without complaint, there was an elated smile on his face as he sank his head back onto the pillows. “God… ah, please…”
Instinctively, you removed your mouth from his cockhead just as ropes of cum spurted from its reddened tip. Jeonghan tensed and writhed on the bedcovers, choked-out sobs falling from his parted lips. You moved your lips to kiss his shaft, as more beads of cum dripped down. 
“Thank you… Fuck, that was amazing,” he croaked languidly, opening his eyes.
With a shudder in excitement, you noticed the clumped eyelashes, and the tears falling from the corners of his pretty eyes. You realized then, that Jeonghan would become your obsession.
His cock started to go soft in your hand, but somehow you knew that it would not take him too long before he was ready for round three.
“You did amazing, baby. Let’s take this off for now,” you mumbled sweetly, arranging your fingers to get the ring off him, not paying attention to the mess smeared all over him and your hands. The dirtier the better.
And it seemed like Jeonghan shared the same fascination. He bit his lower lip, much as if he could not resist it.
“Can I ask you something?” his tone was low, but timid at the same time.
“Sure,” you conceded with a small smile.
“Did you know that I like you?” he asked, his voice shaking so much that he ended with a mere whisper.
“No,” you replied with honesty, getting a tingling feeling inside you, blooming into a shudder.
“Really?” he cocked his head on the bedcover. “So what would you have done if I had rejected your advances?” 
You paused, sitting on top of his messy abdomen. You coughed up a low chuckle, shrugging with ease. “Then I would have moved on,” you blinked at him slowly, enjoying the dazed look in his eyes. “I guess I hoped that you liked me too.”
He clicked his tongue softly negating with his head as he said, “Insane… this is insane.”
You found yourself smiling broadly at him, your chest swelling with endearment for him. You brought a clean hand to pinch his chin, and he instinctively opened his mouth, biting the tip of your finger softly, the act so innocent that it made you chuckle.
A rush coursed through you upon having his wet tongue on your fingers, but you were distracted swiftly, noticing that he had grown hard again. “I take that you’re ready for me?”
“Fuck… yes,” he whispered with a mischievous smile.
“What’s that?” you arched one eyebrow.
He made a small motion to shake his head. “Nothing...” he said, but then he reconsidered, “So I mangled a copy of Frankenstein and that was it for you? Should I do it more often?”
 “No,” you deadpanned, the conversation suddenly turning serious to you. “I hate what you do to books… But you know what? Maybe.”
“Ah, okay, okay,” he laughed, his breath hitching when you repositioned your hips on him, aligning your pretty pussy with his long dick. “Fuck,” he gritted, shooting you an exasperated look. “Raw?”
“Only if you want it, Hannie,” you cooed softly, grabbing his shaft. “If not, I’m okay with you eating me out.”
“I haven’t actually given head before,” he blurted, anxiously gripping your hips in anticipation, but then he gave you a nod with his head. “I want it, please, I want to feel you.”
You smiled at him. “Oh, you really are perfect,” you sighed, shifting on top of him, enjoying his gaze on your body, right where you were about to meet with his cock. You slipped the tip of his cock between your folds, teasing yourself and him a little.
“Ssshit,” he hissed, moving on the bed anxiously, but his dark eyes were still on your pussy, waiting for you to give him what he desperately wanted.
His hands clenched on the soft skin of your hips, his fingernails digging into you so harshly you knew you would leave marks in a few minutes.
“Don’t make me tie you,” you said, your tone quivering slightly. It was then when you paid attention to your own body, the way you were aching to feel him, to feel the stretch his long cock would make you feel, you wanted to know how deep he could reach inside you.
“Another night, maybe?” he teased, mustering some courage.
Your heart fluttered upon seeing a tint of attitude behind that tiny, but devilish smirk. “Another night…” you conceded, pushing his cock with your fingers so that its bulbous head met your entrance, your mouth instantly falling open when you started to ease down on his long and veiny shaft.
“God,” he whispered.
“Oh, Jeonghan!” you cried, sinking down on him with a raw and drawn-out moan. You continued to sit down on him, shuddering as his dick stretched your walls deliciously, making you take your other hand to stroke your clit in gentle motions to ease the slight sting.
“Well, that is all the time I have for you today,” Professor Blackwood called loudly as your fellow classmates stood from their chairs, dragging them across the floor loudly, snapping you awake from the memory.
You jolted quite embarrassingly, licking your lips in an attempt to bring the muscles of your face alive. Realizing that had been fantasizing about Jeonghan for the remainder of the lecture, you could feel that your panties were soaked, and sticking to your throbbing core.
Jeonghan did not move from his seat either. He was bouncing a knee, sharing the same tension you were feeling, he shot you a knowing look.
“My place or yours?” you smirked. 
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› author's note: HEYOOOOOO
it's finally here! i am sorry it took me so long, the last 10 days of october kicked my ass 😭😭😭😭 i am still recovering from those days lol
it also took me a while to write this one because i can't for the life of me, imagine jeonghan as a loser because to me he is the coolest human being on earth. even if he is a loser at times, i just can't, he is the coolest to me :3
also, remember his iconic s-s-s-s-say the name ? that is what i pictured whenever i wrote that hannie stuttered 😭
anyway, that is it. i'll come back with more hannieween fest fics and maybe i'll post lights out soon hehehehe
toodles! thank you so so much for your support! 🙂
support me on ko-fi? 🥹🩵
© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.
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globalrebrand · 4 months ago
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How long do you think it would take the reader to actually fall in love with Capitano because they're in an arranged marriage? And the other way around
Starting with Capitano!
Capitano will always uphold the values of marriage and will be a model husband. He is an a generous yet pragmatic provider. Capitano will not spoil you, but he will ensure what you have is more than adequate for your needs. However, above all, Capitano is honest and loyal, he will never lie or attempt to deceive you.
At first this ideal husband behavior is more so because he respects the institution of marriage very highly and not necessarily because of who you are, though Capitano makes an effort to get to know you. He questions you about your habits and hobbies and after a while will think about how to cater to them.
Capitano actually has rather high expectations of his spouse. I imagine Capitano was pushed to marry due to his status and position, so he will want a partner who is independent, intelligent and dutiful. He will expect the same level of respect in the union that he is giving to you. The irony is that while he picked these characteristics to get a lover who will not disturb him, Capitano is deeply attracted to diligent, mindful and clever individuals. So as the reader demonstrates these traits, Capitano begins to fall in love with them, but due to their independent nature they aren't be the most receptive to the ways in which Capitano shows love, namely by being over protective and insisting on doing everything together. He's home so seldom that what little free time he has he would prefer to spend with his spouse. This becomes especially apparent the longer you two are together.
As detailed above, Capitano possesses many admirable traits which on paper make him easy to fall for, however this ignores his blunt, keen and sometimes prideful nature which depending on who you are, could rub you the wrong way at first.
He is an acute observer even without you detailing the quotidian goings on of your daily life, Capitano will start to notice and comment. He isn't necessarily critiquing, just seeing and noting. He will casually tell you about yourself which can be incredibly jarring at first, especially if you're unused to being seen by the people in your life. However...when it comes to himself, he doesn't freely offer information which can be frustrating. He wants to expose all of your inner workings, but is very selective when divulging his own. He begins to share more freely when you earn his trust, which builds slower than his actual affections for you. Capitano will come to love you before he fully trusts you. It's just the nature of the fatui that make him so suspicious and not necessarily you. He wants to trust you but years in his position have made it difficult for him to lower his guard.
Basically, Capitano appreciates a partner who is brave, self-sufficent and above all loyal. Devote yourself to him and Capitano will find his feelings changing rather soon into your union. Ultimately it takes maybe 2-3 months for Capitano to fall for the reader.
The reader in A Lady's Secret is incredibly independent and self-sufficient young woman from a modest background who knows what she wants and doesn't require Capitano's support. She is principled, hardworking, and doesn't meddle in Capitano's affairs. In fact she develops a pretty well rounded life outside of their marriage. She has season tickets to the ballet, successfully convinces Capitano to let her have two dogs (large thick furred beasts who can easily takedown wolves) and walks them around the forest to visit their distant neighbors when the winds aren't too cold.
The reader does these activities alone because she assumes that Capitano wouldn't want to join her but when he quietly questions why she doesn't invite him she starts to incorporate him into these activities. Not all of them. Capitano has no interest in visiting the neighbors, but he can be convinced to attend a quiet night at the ballet and walk the dogs in the forest. And the reader while initially worried she'd find that his company dulled her experiences, is delighted to realize that she actually prefers his accompaniment.
They definitely butted heads in the beginning when Capitano demanded that she inform him every time she left the house. She wasn't too keen on her whereabouts being surveilled, as she was used to coming and going as she pleased. Initially he was more flexible about these things but as he began to get attached he assigned her a personal body guard which had her really annoyed with him. This led to an argument where she called "smothering" and he called her "stubborn."
The difficult part for the reader early on is that she's intensely attracted to Capitano so she starts the sexual part of their relationship right away, but her feelings for him are slower to crystalize and Capitano uses this to his advantage. When you're still arguing with him about a security detail, he'll be withholding until you agree to his terms.
For someone as independent as the reader she struggles with Capitano's desire for control over her. He's not possessive per se but he is very very over protective and unfortunately due to his position he has every right to be. She just resents that she doesn't quite feel like his equal when he frets over her like this.
However, as she comes to appreciate his company, she is more permissive of Capitano's particular brand of affection which is demonstrated through ensuring her safety. Once the reader learns to appreciate Capitano's brand of care she falls for him. He is a supportive partner and an excellent listener. He is stoic and gruff but she knows from his actions that he cares for her deeply. I would say it takes the reader about 5-7 months to reciprocate his feelings in earnest.
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holybibly · 7 months ago
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Unholy thoughts of the day:
Your life is like a fairy tale when you have not one but two incredibly sexy and gorgeous house husbands who want nothing more than your constant attention and love.
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Yeosang and Seonghwa could never understand your desire to work. Born with a diamond spoon in their mouths and coming from old money, they have been bathed in luxury and wealth all their lives, so it was beyond them why you wanted to continue working in your mediocre, boring company after marriage.
However, they never argued with you on the matter, allowing you to be an "independent and self-sufficient" wifey and fully enjoying their role as your spoiled house husbands.
At first glance, they seemed completely different—the quiet, elegant Yeosang and the bitchy, demanding Seonghwa were like ice and fire, but in reality, they were both exactly the same—greedy, insatiable, passionate, and incredibly demanding. If they wanted you, it was "right here, right now" with no options. They didn't care if you were in public or in the privacy of your luxurious mansion; you would fuck like rabbits on any surface.
They also loved to dress up for you, shamelessly showing off their stunning, seductive bodies in the most exciting and vulgar ways—lacy lingerie, corsets, precious chokers and pearl necklaces, long silk or transparent robes with feathers, or the softest pyjamas made of translucent fabrics that could not hide the fact that they had no underwear. Sometimes you could see piercings in their nipples or a precious ring around the base of their dicks. As house husbands, their main job was your pleasure and enjoyment, and their appearance was very important. You always had to have full access to their bodies.
Seonghwa was more demanding—a real attention seeker who could not keep his hands and mouth to herself.
When you had the opportunity to work from home, Hwa was always there, constantly distracting you from your work and craving your attention and touch. He would dress up especially for you, lower himself elegantly between your legs, and give you seductive siren eyes before pressing his face to your pussy, purring like a kitten as he smelled and tasted the heat of your cunt.
You try to push his gorgeous face away from your pussy, especially when you have an important video call, but it only makes him more insistent. With two fingers he pulls your panties aside and begins to lick your folds slowly and long - drooling on the soft skin and taking turns to sucking your labia into his insatiable mouth. All your pleas for him to stop fall on deaf ears, he is having the time of his life, pushing his fingers into your little hole and immediately hitting your sweet spot.
Seonghwa bends his fingers inside you, rubbing the pads of his fingers at your sensitive bundle of nerves, looking at you with the most mesmerising bedroom eyes. His mouth is slightly open from heavy breathing, your mucus dripping from his chin along with saliva and he looks so fucked already.
He whispers to you how amazing you are and how much he loves the feel of you on his tongue, dirty, disgusting words flowing from his lips like honey. All he wants is for you to smother him with your pretty pink cunt, squirt all over his face and let him fuck you senseless. Seonghwa has always been more  "obsessed" with you, you are his everything and as the most amazing house husband he has to please you all the time.
Eventually he gets tired of not having your full attention and crawls up your body until he is straddling you completely. His tall, lithe frame towering over you, he wraps his hand around your throat and squeezes with force until your mouth opens and he can spit into it, admiring the way his saliva mixed with your slime melts on your tongue. With his other hand, he slams your laptop shut, signalling that the games are over.
"You must never forget that I am your main job, darling. And if Mommy doesn't pay enough attention to Daddy, I'll never let you go anywhere again. I will tie you to the bed and fuck you all day long, over and over again. You will be covered in my cum, fucked so hard and so well that your beautiful hole will be open and stretched all the time. And even that won't stop me. Do you understand me, love? Now will you give me your full attention and fuck me properly, do I make myself clear?"
Yeosang loves to fuck you in the morning, when you are all sleepy and overly sensitive after a night of play. He leaves lazy, wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck and shoulder, presses himself against you from behind, and rubs your clit lazily. Yeo moans deeply into your ear, his velvety low voice husky and sultry as he feels his fingers begin covered in your juices. He even thinks about waking you up by sticking his tongue in your pussy, but when he looks at Seonghwa sleeping peacefully next to you with his plump lips all swollen and red from how much he ate you last night, he knows that if you wake him up with your moans, the older's mouth will immediately envelope your cunt. 
So he slides his fingers between your folds until they circle the edge of your sensitive, fluttering hole, then slides inside your pussy to the base.
His heavy, hard cock pulses hotly against your ass, staining the soft skin with pre-cum, and Yeosang squeezes the plump flesh of your ass cheek to pull it back and watch as your cunt stretches around his fingers. You whimper, squirming in your place between the naked bodies of your handsome house husbands, unconsciously pushing yourself deeper onto Yeosang's fingers.
When the amber-eyed vixen thinks he's stretched you enough, he replaces his fingers with his cock, slowly pushing the massive, veiny length into you inch by inch until his balls rest against the underside of your ass cheeks.
Yeo lifts your leg slightly, spreads you open for him and begins to fuck you lazily. His lips leave purple marks on your skin, his fingers dig into your flesh until bruised as his cock slides between your hot, slippery walls wrapped around him in the best way possible. You always fit him like a glove. 
You jerk, finally waking from your sleep as the swollen head of his cock hits your cervix with a particularly deep thrust from your handsome husband's strong hips. You moan loudly and turn your head back to meet Yeosang's heavy, half-closed eyes. He glows in the early morning light, his skin smooth and damp with sweat, and you want to lick him clean.
"Sangie, so good..."
"Mmm, angel, I want to please you. I want to fuck your brains out, love, until you're swollen with my cum." He whispers sultrily against your lips, then picks up the pace and begins to fuck you the way he likes—hard and deep. His thrusts are short and aggressive, the head of his cock hitting your G-spot hard with each movement, and you squeal, writhing in the tight grip of his hands.
As Yeosang suspected, Seonghwa doesn't keep you waiting. His beautiful, cat-like eyes open wide and immediately cloud with lust as he sees how Yeosang fucks you.
"Show me..." Hwa orders, his voice hoarse from sleep, and your second husband laughs at the commanding notes in his voice. Seonghwa is always too whipped for you.
But Yeosang lifts your leg higher so Hwa can see his thick cock stretching your pink hole, sliding in and out, all glistening and slick with your juices.
"Fuck..." Seonghwa hisses, reaching out and tracing his fingers around the spot where you and Yeosang meet.
"Oh my God..." you practically scream from the amount of stimulation you're getting right now. "I'm going to cum, Sangie."
"Come on, angel, cum all over my cock, cover it with cream. I want to see you come for us."
Seonghwa moans next to you, and you realise that your second husband is jerking off lazily next to you, watching Yeosang fuck you. The sight of Seonghwa's graceful fingers sliding over his beautiful thick cock and Yeo continuing to pound his cock into your sweet spot brings you to orgasm, and you cum hard, covering your husband's cock with your cream.
"That's it, angel. Perfect as always." Yeosang whispers to you as he continues to fuck you, prolonging your orgasm, you moaning from the overstimulation and practically squealing as you feel Seonghwa's hot lips touching your clit.
"You have two husbands, my love. Never forget that."
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4mrplumi · 3 days ago
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ZERO (i) : SCAVENGERY . (ms/next)
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-> plot synopsis - you don't think you're as odd and horrifying as the news makes you out to be. but you have never much cared for the validation of others, and certainly not theirs.
-> batfamily x serial killer reader. playlist (wip) ask 2b added to taglist
-> tw; gn reader, guns, referenced assault, violence, toxic relationships, eventual fem love interest, bug taxidermy, unhealthy coping mechanisms, murder, sociopathic tendencies, full on master list.
> a/n; horribly in love with the idea of a self-sufficient classy mean judge. reblogs and interactions appreciated!! a lot (●'◡'●)
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in fact, you are grateful for their ignorance. you do not need their recognition, their thanks.
you won’t say you’re not petty, not childish, not absurd and not disgusting for what you’re doing, but you’ve heard it innumerable times before, and don’t mind it now. in a matter of days, the limits you’ve placed on yourself have become the bane of your existence.
bright, technicoloured posters with you favourite bands and characters hang on the walls, music playing merrily on a small portable speaker you’d bought with your self-earned pocket money. it all provided the perfect image of a regular teenager, to the extent that you weren’t really creating a civilian identity like your family, but living through it. normally.
it makes you giddy, and you know it shouldn’t, to be so unsuspecting. your grades are mediocre, but your teachers praise your work, you’re not popular enough to go be invited to every party, but enough to be friends with three quarters of the grade, not dedicated enough to a franchise to know it super well, but still enjoy it through multiple perspectives. normal, exceptional, and normal.
that’s what makes it all the more rewarding to do what you do. since being adopted at eleven, you’ve pieced together the caped identities of the monolith you call your family with lovely colour-coded pin boards and pictures. you know they escape into the night to fight not criminals, but fight crime, beating and getting beat in the process.
you think it’s tedious, but you never comment. there’s not much you remember prior to coming into the manor, except the raw experiences from fleeing cheerfully down unkempt, spray painted, molding stairway chambers with your friends away from an angry neighbour, laughing the whole way down. sharing fries for one among six to seven people, since money was hard to get by and harder to go around and listening to the one person who could afford school talk about it. pushing your friends on the swings and them tying your laces in return, since the swings were too far from the ground to push yourself, and scratchy velcro was for “sissies”.
you could say your childhood was rugged, but fairly kind for a gothamite. you weren’t given the life of a gilded richman’s son like tim, or the hard street crime life of jason. you weren’t raised by assassins or masters like damian and cassandra, not clever and determined like duke, not gifted with athleticism like dick. normal, incredibly. lucky, even.
you cannot think of anyone when you think of family. you considered your group of friends (acquaintances does your relationship better justice, but at ten, everyone was a friend if they didn’t wear a badge and a cap) family, but you knew that’s not what the word meant. they’d go back home to fighting parents, single mothers, thieving fathers, earning siblings or aging aunts and uncles. you would go home to a quiet one-room apartment and a poor quality mattress.
it’s not fair to say you weren’t cared for. the neighbourhood considered you their darling child, your friends’ parents sending you food, aunties reading you stories and elderly residents providing comfort when you wanted the rare support of an adult. but you had no family because by your accord, you would have to return home to them for someone to be family.
it’s the opposite now. you return home from school to bruce wayne and his entourage of misplaced children, but your interactions are stiff as stone. you go out to diners and have the most soulless conversations, stay in the house and refuse to partake in their exchanges.
because you are different. their morals are aligned to your guardian’s, of justice and strength and so on, so on. your morals are aligned with your survival, no one else's, selfish, scavenging. you cannot get along on a base value, because you don’t belong to their nest of canaries. you are, as a silly buzzfeed quiz at five in the morning said, a shrike.
yet still, you seeked the warmth of family. the resurgence of that feeling you once had in your old life. you could never return, having now experienced the fruits of luxury, having lived too far from “home” for far too long, with the added weight of a bruce wayne shaped shadow that followed you. the immense danger it would bring to yourself and those around you would be preposterous, unimaginable, but no more horrifying than the awkwardness you'd receive from you old not-family. scrutinising stares, untrusting glances, forced waves. no, no, it wouldn’t do. you don’t want to feel miserable. 
it’s enough that your presumed family already gives you those looks. sneers from damian, concerned glances from cassandra, brief unease from dick, ignorance from tim, you could go on and on and on. and you’re not stupid. you only have yourself to blame.
your vanity, as the buzzfeed quiz had said, in curling cursive font that sometimes turned to boxes on the ui, presented itself as a horrifying ignorance. unlike a peacock’s gushing beauty, your pretty-factor extended only as far into first impressions. when someone gets closer, enough to see the white of your eyes, they shrink away.
crude comments, satirical dismissal, and sharp judgement are things that have, in air quotes, made you unlikable. when watching a documentary about bug-taxidermy on one of the tvs, damian had walked in and commented on the generous “inhumanity” of it. instead of justifying the practice with explanations of how ethical it was, you’d scoffed and called him dramatic. he antagonised you, and you couldn't care less.
mean things left your mouth without hesitation, “who cares” and “you’re doing too much” at the simplest things. but you didn’t do it on purpose. growing up, kindness was reserved only for people in your circle, barterers of goods and generosity. you were polite to the old ladies who brought you food, nice to the new kid who looked at you for guidance, and offered support to people who’d offered that to you too.
you had no obligation to be kind to the wayne household. they had done nothing for you, other than pulling you out of a blood stained alley and providing you a home you didn’t ask for. you weren’t let in on their family bonds and not given the chance to create mutual trust with them, and were not keen on it after their whitewashed kidnapping either. 
perhaps you had the frayed edges of low-class living from gotham’s alleys, but you also had firmly set, stich, stern and strict guidelines about your behaviour. you would not make the first move, and you would not do more than fulfill debts. one favour for another, never more.
that’s what makes your secretive secret side job exhilarating. you have no need to do what you do, except for a sense of duty. the term itself, obligation, is unfamiliar, exciting. like many, but not the majority, the batman and his menagerie’s morals seem too high standing for the crevices of gotham’s underworld. only the red hood can relate, and even he is too far from the truth in your eyes.
death was a permanent solution to the wrongs of people. but you could not simply just wipe out a criminal from the street and call it a day. the only striking similarity between you and bruce wayne, was that the two of you didn’t fight criminals, but fought crime. you snuffed it out as it started hinting at the surface, not waiting for a track record or a ticket list on a license. nothing was forgiven, because you were not obliged to forgive.
you did not forgive, but did excuse. the theft of food, the death of someone too touchy, the fractured ribs of a parent too cruel, were excused. because like you, the suspect, the criminal, was also simply bartering. a favour for a favour, a wicked death for a wicked life. they would be let off from your radar, until someone else got to them. you were not obliged to save them. you are duty-bound only to rid. 
out of habit really, you resorted to violence. seeing a lady bothered by a fellow too close a few months back, you did what came naturally without the supervision of domineering adults and officers and shot him point blank. for a second, the woman stilled, painted in blood from the spray that arced to her, before screaming in horror and fleeing, without so much as a glance in your direction. 
you were unperturbed by the lack of thanks, with a hint of humour at the thought, since it meant you were not indebted to her and she was not to you. 
but it’s the realisation that comes shortly after, that a fine or a scolding would not similarly scare away the man, and he was now well taken care of. and you think of the other scummy people hiding gotham’s crowded basements, and think of their freedom. it makes you angry, it always has, truly it does. death was not an uncommon occurrence in gotham, the murders and abductions, cruelty and pain all as abundant as the trash, poverty and crime within the city. why was it only an offense when it came to the people who perpetuated it?
comfort does little to save victims. a bag of cash and a pat on the back will not rid them of their memories, sadness, or their losses. you are neither sympathetic nor can you relate, but you are angry. have been angry. on their behalf. the world is a rotten and sick place, and this city is especially so. and while batman is a poor janitor, the red hood one too late, and the monolith of your family too distant, you are decided. you’ll wash this place clean like a broken truck, knowing it’ll never work again, but look pretty as it remains.
and you, a good-for-nothing, always scorning, useless kid, are unsuspecting. you are grateful for their ignorance. you do not need their recognition or their thanks.
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> a/n i think this is a solid part one for a prologue bit. the crow choir series is getting a bit neglected because i want to think over its intricacies a bit better. in contrast, this is a very kick and throw kind of plot line, more fun to write for.
i've been super nervous to post on tumblr but am enjoying it. hopefully will upload the next bits soon, interactions so very very appreciated! esp ideas in comments or asks, because it makes me feel like i'm not wiling away the time i should use for other things (T_T) overall just feels nice too.
thank you for reading!!
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toovaeloe · 1 month ago
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I can’t stop thinking about every image we get of baby gojo 😭 he looks like THE MOST silent kid ever. Like no talking just staring at you from across the way burning holes into your soul kind of kid
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awww he’s sooo cute look how little he is aw
But do you think little Satoru who was separated from his parents early on was a loud crying baby for awhile??
Like so loud, ear bleeding belting and wailing tantrums if he didn’t have his favorite toy, if something didn’t go his way, if he scraped his knee, if he just wanted to be held.
That he cried so loud because he was waiting for some adult or caretaker in his clan to take notice and come coddle or soothe him— maybe even scold him. But they don’t; they just throw some new, shinier thing into his face, tend to a wound with doctor-like sterility, or just ignore him completely for however long it takes until he quiets.
So eventually he just stops. He doesn’t cry anymore and is sparsely expressive at all. He becomes a very, very quiet little kid. Everyone around him is grateful that their ears have been spared.
And it carries into adulthood
You’d think that someone as vivid and intense as him, as tactile and clingy and whiny as him would have obnoxiously explosive outbursts when he’s shoved so far over the edge to the point he feels his eyes burning and parts of his vision blurring in a way they so scarcely do.
But when he gets really upset like that he’ll deflect, deflect deflect. He seems so unbothered, might make a joke of it or jestingly gripe about it with a “what can ya do” shrug.
Once he can get away from other people he shuts down and goes nonverbal, isolates himself completely, and hardly ever will he allow himself to cry. If he does he’s all shaky shoulders, tense constricting throat, and soundless rolling tears.
He’s not loud when he cries anymore because from a very young age he learned that nobody’s coming, and subconsciously he’s never let go of that. Now he hardly makes noise. He’s a very quiet crier, and after his mute sulking he’s right back to it like nothing ever happened, as if nothing ever bothered him in the first place
He’s telling himself that this is self-sufficient, self reliant behavior that lets him remain invulnerable and independent
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leonkennedybreedingkink · 2 months ago
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BRING TO BOIL
coworker!leon x reader
tags: mention of child abuse (non-explicit), semi-nsfw. i be thinking about subleon ngl
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Leon hasn’t heard a word of this meeting. Virus this, real life supervillain that, blah, blah, blah. Proper noun, adjective, verb—none of it means a damn thing when you’re standing across from him, looking vaguely irritated in your little black dress.
God, what were you doing? Were you in a club? Were you with friends? He hopes you were. What else is the purpose of a dress that could bring a man to his knees?
That’s Leon’s favorite place to be, on his knees in front of a beautiful woman. He doesn’t even have to be doing anything, either, he could be happy just having his head pet by said beautiful woman.
He snaps out of his thoughts when he notices he’d been staring at the freckle on your left tit for a bit too long, clearing his throat quietly and looking away. He looks back over when you shift a little, the sequins on your dress shimmering in the fluorescents.
When there’s a sufficient pause in the briefing, you raise your hand like you’re a schoolgirl again. “Excuse me?”
Leon wishes that hand of yours was on him, preferably on his back as you scratch him up.
“Is it necessary that I’m here? It’s my day off.” You continue, the hand holding your clipboard of the meeting minutes crossing your body to land on the opposite hip, then folding your arms.
You’re leveled with an unimpressed glance over Hunnigan’s glasses. “Yes.” She says shortly, continuing with the briefing.
Leon watches your jaw flex as you hold back some sort of snarky remark, visibly making an effort to calm yourself down despite the way you’re simmering with the way you measure your breaths in and out.
It’s easy for him to tell when you’re pissed off, you’re too expressive for your own good.
The meeting draws to a close and he flips over the notes to get the gist of it—exactly as he bet earlier—before handing his clipboard to Hunnigan’s assistant and letting you wave him and everyone else out before you, chalking it up to self-consciousness.
He’s less than a foot away from the door and into the hallway when you hurl your clipboard against the wall as hard as you can.
You throw the clipboard the way you throw a punch, shifting your weight in your hips and shoulders. “Fuck!” Papers flutter to the floor as he watches the board bounce off the wall and land with a quiet thud on the linoleum, pink plastic splintered in the middle.
You stand there in silence, chest heaving and fists balled up.
Leon turns around because he could never resist a woman who could kick his ass, chalk it up to mommy being a little heavy handed in her discipline. Well, that, and he’s never seen you so pissed off.
While he can read your face like a book, you also tend to swallow your pride and any emotion in favor of focusing on the mission. Eventually, you calm down, you’ve just gotta steam about it.
He leans against the wall, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. “‘S this about your day off being interrupted?”
Eyes up, Kennedy.
He watches you push a hand through your hair, hands shaking minutely with the adrenaline rush.
“Yeah.” And he can see you rearing up for a fight, as if he’s about to taunt you for being a very stupid little girl to be so upset about a day off being interrupted.
Leon holds his hands up, taking a step in. “I get it. This exact thing has happened to me more times than I can count.”
Somehow, this seems to placate you. He watches you clean up the papers, crouched down on the floor in your heels. When something’s too far out of reach, you kneel and reach out for them and he has to swallow.
“I feel like the maid.” You grumble, standing up and straightening the papers haphazardly before clipping them against the board again. “Can the world just not implode for one day?”
Leon snorts and you mistake it for him laughing at you, head snapping up and eyes narrowed.
“Hey, easy.” He speaks to you the way one does an angry tiger, taking a few more steps into the room to be by your side. Moth, meet flame. “I’m right there with you. Next time I go on vacation, I’m leaving my work phone here and not telling anyone.”
Your shoulders droop. “I should’ve done that.” You sulk, mouth twisting to the side.
“Yeah, well, now you know.” Leon muses, gently taking the abused clipboard from you and taking care not to look you in the tits instead of in the eye.
He sets a gentle hand on your shoulder, leading you out of the meeting room. “Maybe you should get changed.” He says carefully, his hand having migrated down to between your shoulder blades.
Then, an idea occurs to him, a small smile appearing on his face as he says casually, “Not that I’m not thankful for the view or anything, but—“
“Leon!” You swipe at his arm and he has to fight a lovesick giggle. Mission accomplished, your mind’s off your disrupted day off and he has your hands on him.
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Leon has to stifle a piteous sigh when he sees you again, this time in a leather jacket and jeans. On one hand, he’s grateful you’re not torturing him anymore. On the other, he’s never gonna be able to get that view out of his head. On the other other hand, you walk around looking like that, no matter what you wear.
He’s between a rock and a hard place, except he’s the rock and the hard place.
The helicopter ride is always bumpy to wherever you’re dropped off. At least it’s somewhere in the Northern Hemisphere this time, Leon’s full from his previous, more exotic missions.
You fold your arms around yourself once you’re off the helicopter, looking around with a frown on your face.
Leon chuckles quietly, pushing a comm into his ear and threading it over the shell. When you have trouble, he reaches over and helps you pull it on. “You’re still mad about being called in on your day off?”
You grumble, holding your hair out of the way for him. “Wouldn’t you be?”
“Oh, of course.” He threads the cord around your ear, making sure it’s snug and coming to your side, keeping the wire pressed to your skin with his fingertips. “I think that once we have something to fight, you’ll quit brooding so much.”
“I don’t brood.” You huff, stuffing the comm thread down your shirt.
Leon looks away to preserve your dignity.
“That’s more you, in any case.”
Leon smiles, jamming his hands into his pockets. “That may be true.”
You sigh, pulling your hair up. Leon imagines tracing the slope of your neck with his nose, mouth watering at the thought. “Let’s go, I wanna be able to go home and brood in peace, sooner rather than later.”
“Yes, ma’am.” You’ll never know the kick he gets out of being able to say that to you.
Real-life supervillain and cronies gone, you can focus on information. He was right, you look a lot lighter when you’ve had the chance to beat the shit out of something and kill it dead. You walk with a little spring in your step, now, and he so dearly wants to sweep you into his arms.
He refrains, but watches you hunch over a table and break into the mainframe of this little facility for a moment. He needs to write a cease and desist for your jeans, God. While you do that, he scopes out the rest of it, his hand on the gun at his hip with a flashlight in the other hand.
Pause, glance, listen down one side, then the other. Too quiet, it shouldn’t be this quiet. If Raccoon City taught him anything, if something’s quiet, something’s wrong.
Pause, glance, listen down another side. Leon wanders down the hall slowly, senses primed for whatever jumps out at him.
He gets his wish, tackled from the front by some abomination of nature and hitting his head on the linoleum on the way down. When it spits stomach acid at him, he dodges with a sluggish grunt, trying to shake it off and get out from under it.
At least he isn’t being choked.
Still, Leon can’t grab his gun or knock the thing silly, he’s not even sure this thing has a brain he can concuss. It’s almost sad that this thing and him are about equal in strength, maybe he should hit the gym.
Leon’s saved when you put two holes in the thing’s head. Unfortunately, it looks up and bares its teeth at you, getting up from straddling him as some drool lands on his face.
You empty the chamber into it with fear rapidly appearing on your face. He knows that look, he’s felt it more than once. Leon spots the fire axe on the wall and gets to his feet, breaking the glass with the butt of his gun and yanking it out.
He cleaves the abomination in half, splattering him and you in blood. “Are you okay?” He huffs, hauling the axe out of its shoulder and tossing it aside with a metallic clatter.
You nod, wiping some of the blood off your face. He wonders if you can hear after using a gun without ear protection, but that’ll be catalogued later, when you’re both home.
Leon registers the burning on his face a moment later, wiping fervently at his skin and wiping it off on his jeans.
“I can’t believe this.” He mutters, not even bothering to worry about his shirt rapidly succumbing to the acidic blood. You glance down, eyes wandering to the spots of skin you can see. “You get called in on your day off and I almost die because this thing is acidic.”
“Was.” You mutter back, putting your empty gun in the holster. Good, you’re still in good spirits. “Maybe I should be asking if you are okay.”
“I’ll be fine.” He’s a little woozy from hitting his head, but he’s a big boy, he’ll live. He might not if you check him over, only thing you’d be missing is a sexy nurse outfit.
“Good.” You hold up a thumb drive. “I got what we needed.”
“Good.” Leon takes your hand and pulls you out of the facility—but he’s maybe not the best man for navigation right now. You swiftly change roles with him, leading the two of you out of the facility and to the rendezvous point.
When you’re finally back at HQ being checked over, he slides a page over to you, his number messily scrawled on it. “Next time you’re wearing a dress like that, call me.” He murmurs, eyes half-shut, “Almost brought me to my knees.”
Chalk it up to the concussion.
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sarcastic-neek · 20 days ago
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I think the reason I find Xiao X Aether so appealing is because Xiao doesn't want anything from the Traveler.
Honestly Xiao / Traveler works but I prefer Aether because of his characterization as the softer twin.
Lumine, from what I've seen and what the fandom seems to agree on, is a bit colder and more no nonsense of the two. She does the commissions for a paycheck and rolls her eyes when people randomly approach her with more. She makes her discomfort known but does it anyway because she is a good person who wants to help.
Aether is more of a chronic people pleaser. He'll grin and bear it, saving his snark for whenever he and Paimon are alone because he wasn't other people to see him as anything less than helpful and cooperative.
Enter Xiao. He shows up and doesn't want anything from the Traveler. He's self-sufficient and instead wants to help the Traveler, telling them to speak his name when they're in trouble. The Traveler refuses to take advantage of his offer and instead only calls him for cute, easy tasks (taste testing food).
The Traveler refuses to be a burden; Xiao already suffered enough. So the Traveler is kind, offering small gifts of food and quiet companionship because they care. Xiao never asked for anything but the Traveler gives and gives because that's what they know.
Xiao is easily overwhelmed by this shower of kindness, but they can't stop it. What they can do is attempt to offer kindness in return. Crystalflies to decorate their hair. Answering their call and letting himself be included in whatever the Traveler is up to now. Taste testing food.
But never once does he push. Xiao never asks for anything more than attempts at companionship, but even that is mostly in response to the Traveler always asking if Xiao would like to do something (Teapot lines). Xiao is unobtrusive, quiet. He expects nothing but is so grateful for chances to be around the Traveler after they've broken down their walls bit by bit.
The chasm quest highlights this. Xiao is fine being separated from the others, wanting to keep them at arms length because he himself is a danger with his karmic debt. But the Traveler is there. They are there and hurt. The Traveler that he KNOWS is a self sacrificial fool willing to do anything to save everyone else, but no one will save them.
So Xiao comes, to ensure the safety of the Traveler, the one person who had been nothing but patient and kind to him but that no one else seems to fret over.
And why would they? This is the famous gold haired traveler who had fought dragons and gods alike. They're a legend, unrivaled, peerless. A friend to the archons. A master swordsman. They see the Traveler as untouchable.
Just like the Yaksha.
Xiao understands what it's like to bear the burdens of this world. He understands what it feels like to be ordered around to solve problems. So he comes and offers himself as the sacrifice in his stead. He isn't asked to. No one wants him to. But if not Xiao, it would have been the Traveler. Xiao does it because he won't ask someone else to bear the burden.
To me, that's what it all boils down to. Both of them just want to help the other, but there are no expectations. No commissions or fights that they ask the other to join. No requests. Just two people who both shoulder a heavy burden finding solace in someone else who understands and asks for nothing.
They aren't the gold haired traveler and the Yaksha.
They're just Aether and Xiao.
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warmcookiepuff · 2 months ago
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RESTART ( badly timed reunions suck ass when you leave your best friend behind)
— gn!reader, jason, wingman roy, mentions of dick
tw: curse words (many), jason dealing with his mental health and hyper independence (i hc he never properly deals with it)
p.s: raw writing skills after a year of retirement (it sucks).
p.s 2.0: Yes i rewrote this
---- ⭐ ----
"You've got a type," Roy jokes, lightly shoving his friend as he swivles his cup of juice. His eyes turning to the newbie vigilante across the room, stressing over the cups knocked over on the table.
"Yeah? What's that?" Jason rolls his eyes, adjusting himself on the wall. His eyes never leave your back.
"Scary," Roy hums, taking a sip of his juice as he watches you stack the cups again annoyingly.
It's been a while, you know. Probably a decade. Last you checked, he upped and died after getting adopted from the Alley you both grew up in. His shirt used to be as dirty as yours. Your smarts still match his, even more actually. Both were practically inseparable before--
Well.
"I don't know why you guys don't just talk," Roy muses. "It's not like you don't know each other."
"We don't," Jason answers harshly, his eyes looking away from you to his friend. "I'm not the kid that played mechanic anymore. Besides, I've got blood on my hands."
Its quiet. The house is still buzzing with friends and family. Wayne's mansion was grand as always. Jason always looks out of place in a space like this. Especially in celebrations, he typically never shows up. Not even for his own birthday. Much less Dick's.
Where he currently is.
The real question is: "Why is he here?"
Dick knows Jason won't come to the party. Everyone does. In typical Jaybird fashion, he'd send a text a few days late wishing his family a 'happy birthday' (if they're lucky).
He's a self-sufficient guy. The hyper independent, gruff, bad boy vigilante with a few screws loose. He does fine on his own.
So Dick brings in his screws; you. Jason fell for it like a sheep.
"How did Dick even--" Jason starts, feeling frustrated over the situation. Roy cuts him off.
"I told him."
"Honest to God I could kill you right now, Roy."
"In my defense, it sounded good at the time."
"I almost chopped their head off? What the fuck do you mean it sounded good?!"
"They threw like 15 bombs at you. Something tells me they don't just die easy."
"Christ, you're insufferable," Jay pinches the bridge of his nose. Needing silence above all else at the moment for the migraine that was shooting up his psyche. "i need some fresh air. DON'T follow me. I'll shoot your ass."
Jason leaves before Roy could say a word.
The balcony doors push open. Cold air pricks his cheeks and he takes a deep, deep breath of the polluted Gotham air. He rests his elbows on the railings, overseeing the city raining with crime.
Home.
There's a beat of silence. Before he sighs heavily, holding his head in his hands.
"Why am I like this," He asks himself in a low, tired voice. One he uses when he's sure he's alone. "Fuck's wrong with me. Can't be normal for five fucking seconds."
"Honestly, it was like 46 minutes but who's counting?"
Jason arms himself with his gun as swift as possible, his eyebrows furrow angrily as he makes sense of the silhouette standing by the balcony door behind him.
"Better than beheading, I'd say," You roll your eyes, walking up to him unfazed.
"You-- I-- Give me like 5 seconds," He locks in, immediately stuffing his gun in his holster. Fuck, since when did he stutter.
"Time's up," You answer smoothly, leaning on the railing with your body turned to his own rigid stance. "Speak, big boy."
"How'd you know I was out here?"
"You're a big guy," You answer, shrugging. "Also, Roy."
"Fucking ginger," He sighs, massaging his temples. "Don't do this to me."
"Do what?"
"Pretend we're talking. Like we're friends again."
"I'm not doing anything you don't want me doing," You put your hands up in surrender. "Talk when you want."
It felt like hours had passed by in the quiet that the cold had started to nick at your skin. Cars had passed, small amounts of people had left. For once, Jason didn't want to disappoint someone more than he already has -- he's stuck in his own head. He had to say something.
Anything.
Anything that isn't so fucking stupid.
"I... I missed... you," He says through gritted teeth, his eyes never meeting yours -- his heart pounding and nervous.
He should've died in the Pit.
The second of silence you left had him consider every escape option possible.
You snort loudly and burst out laughing. It catches him off guard. It was noisy, loud -- full of life. You grip the railing as you hold your stomach.
"I--," You heave, snickering through your words. "I-- I missed you too."
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venusandsaturnsrings · 2 months ago
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★彡 theoretic exposé.
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summery: he had intended to wiggle is way into your life and by a stroke of luck, discovered the perfect way to keep you in his palm.
contains: post 2.7 tb mission, blackmailing, power dynamics, halovian reader, afab/fem reader, sadistic sunday, aftercare at the end, and this was supposed to be a small blurb but turned into a 3k words whoops!!
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it was quiet. you sat amongst the books of an overfilled library on one of the Xianzhou ships glossing over various titles as you digested all of the recent happenings aboard the Astral Express. much of it was far too difficult to fully grasp, despite pestering Mr. Yang with endless questions, so you settled for sticking your nose into some light novels; surely the rest of the crew wouldn’t mind? well, Dan Heng might but when you brought up the idea to both March and Stelle they had brushed it off in favour of various games around the dreamscape. not that it bothered you, of course, some alone time never hurt and you weren’t too keen on spending it with the newest passenger as some reservations of your own remained alongside burgeoning desires.
picking up one of the books you read the title, ‘A Mages Lessons in Rope; Magic and Arousal?!’, and though you scoffed at the typical tacky wording you couldn’t help but tuck it under your arm. without prying eyes no one could judge you for wanting to read something so… mature, for lack of better words. glancing over the shelves you picked up two other novels of similar content before shyly approaching the cashier who rung you up without a second glance, perhaps used to people buying erotica and not wanting to further embarrass them which brought you peace of mind. sliding them into your bag after paying, you walked down the streets and enjoyed the fresh air. the calm and nearly homely atmosphere was soothing after all the chaos and you opted to snag a bubble tea before returning to the express.
heading to your room without delay you unwinded with a bath before settling down in your aptly proclaimed reading chair and cracking open the first of the books with knees almost to your chin.
crude and sufficiently embarrassing to read, you made your way through the first handful of chapters before warmth began to swirl in your stomach at the descriptions of many intimate encounters between the mage and her trusted albeit mysterious companion before an even and self-assured knock came from your door. you jolted up and shoved the book beneath a pillow after mentally noting your page number before opening the door in a flustered state; this was supposed to be your alone time with nothing but these tacky novels and maybe a hand down your shorts! who dares to knock? low and behold, behind the door was none other than the fresh passenger, Sunday. you shifted nervously as you greeted him and he returned it coupled with a practiced nod, ever so formal.
“apologies for interrupting any preoccupations, but i don’t believe we’ve made acquaintances yet. Sunday, the pleasure is truly mine,” he smiled in a manner that could only be described as an attempt to be casual but lined with a stiffness he clearly couldn’t shake. you returned the greeting and filled him in on your name though you knew he already was aware as you were of his. he hummed pensively and looked over your shoulder for a moment, “would you be offended should i ask to come in? i’d quite like the honourable chance to know you better,” and though you weren’t entirely pleased at the idea you nodded and side stepped to allow his entry.
his steps were smooth and straight to an unnatural degree as it wasn’t something anyone would usually notice and you forbid the thought that you cared. he turned his head this way and that to take in your space and all the decor you had taken the time to gather and put up. his gaze held a hint of calculation as he ascertained his thoughts though he didn’t voice approval or lack of. it wasn’t exactly comfortable to know a man so obsessed with perfection as Sunday was sizing up your room for anything askew but if he noticed anything, he didn’t voice it in favour of walking further in with the rhythmic clicks of his shoes on the hardwood. you almost screamed watching him approach the chair you had previously sat in and put himself there instead. his eyebrows furrowed and your shoulders raised, ready to squeak out some sort of excuse for him to actually please not look at what he’s sitting on but he was simply faster. a gloved hand retrieved the book and he dusted off the cover, though there was certainly no dust to accumulate in all of sixty seconds, before his face hardened even further and his cheeks flushed bright vermillion.
“this is…” Sunday trailed off not knowing how exactly to broach the subject of your reading material. he flipped the novel over in his hands to read the back and you almost died; hopefully the floor would soon swallow you up. “quite the choice. fascinating, i’d go so far to say,” he cleared his throat and you could swear the corners of his lips were quirked up for a moment, “are the other Nameless familiar with your taste in writing? or is this perhaps a naughty secret of yours? i’m beyond curious and this is seemingly better than any light chatter i could’ve produced on my own to pick your brain.” you fumbled over every word in your vocabulary before opting just to shake your head, eyes wide and palms suddenly damp. “i see. they’d be curious to know, i’d think,” Sunday stood back up from the chair and easily made it across the room once more, “a precious member of theirs indulging in grossly sinful material. perhaps we should take this to the parlour car for all to judge.”
after making a couple choked noises of protest, you slapped a hand on his chest rapidly shaking your head, “n-no!! they definitely do not need to see it!!” given your unfamiliarity with the man you really couldn’t tell if he was serious or not and certainly didn’t want to take the risk. he hummed at your desperate response and brought a hand to his chin to fake contemplate his next action. his nonchalance bordered on infuriating as if he hadn’t just threatened to put you as some sort of gross pervert to all of your dear companions. the embarrassment of such a thing would surely leave you with no choice but to depart the plane of the living. what a nuisance.
“the perhaps repenting for such things would be your best choice. as the former Bronze Melodia, i’m the perfect person for such a task, no?” Sunday seemed even more smug at his own suggestion, “i’m a very good listener, i’ll have you know.” you hesitated briefly, mortified at his suggestion, but if this was what you needed to do to avoid everyone knowing then so be it. dropping your head so you didn’t have to bear looking at him you responded in the form of a nod and he hummed in a pleased tone. “very good choice, little vixen. i expect you to follow my every word.”
with that, he lead you back to the same chair and once more seated himself before beckoning you to kneel between his legs. an indignant huff left your mouth but you listened to him anyways and dropped to the floor making sure your posture was perfection; you expect he’d scold you otherwise. he cleared his throat before speaking, “you must be honest with every answer you provide me. firstly tell me why you were drawn to such literature and secondly tell me how many novels of this variety you’ve read before.” you fiddled with your fingers and pretended to ponder his questions to put off having to answer but he snapped his fingers and arched one flawless brow, signalling you to hurry up.
“i… isn’t it obvious why i’d be reading that? the content is arousing,” you cringed at the admission and poor imitation of his speech, “and does it matter how many i’ve read? i honestly couldn’t give you a number if i tried…” Sunday chuckles at your response, amused at your flustered state and obviously enjoying exercising his power over you. he nodded in acknowledgment with an expression that could only be described as pitying as if he hadn’t put you in this position himself.
“very interesting. you’ve got quite fascinating hobbies, little dove,” with his words he leaned forwards to twirl a strand of your hair before grabbing your chin to keep your gaze on him alone. “i’m curious still. when you read such things, where do you imagine yourself? and who do you imagine it with? is it Dan Heng? or maybe you like your partners older, Mr. Yang perhaps? are you more interested in girls and is your taste more suited to miss March or miss Himeko?” his eyes seemed to shine with satisfaction at the way your jaw dropped in shock and your own wings twitched, curling in to attempt to cover your face. Sunday simply brushed them away and took great pleasure in knowing the touch was so very intimate. left with no choice you mumbled out a teary eyed answer.
“this is humiliating and invasive but i… i’m always on the submissive end. and i definitely don’t have any interest in my friends, they’re friends and nothing more,” you let your eye wander elsewhere with a thick swallow and attempt to stave off the impending sobs, “i wouldn’t consider us friends though… and i can’t help that i think of you.” he broke into a grin that read as predatory like a wolf that finally caught the deer. perhaps more akin to the peregrine and dove. Sunday only held your chin tighter.
“i had assumed as much. your face truthfully reveals all emotions and thought regardless of any attempts to conceal. it’s quite adorable,” he seemed to think for a moment before speaking again, “maybe we should test out your fantasies. compare your thoughts to reality and maybe it’ll be a sweet dream in its own right.” left with no room to argue, you wouldn’t anyways as even thought it was mortifying, how could you turn down a chance to be with a man you’d listed after over simple glances.
he helped your rise from the ground before settling you in his lap. through your shameful admirations of his face and form you’d always noticed how sultry his eyes naturally seemed to be with low lids and a firm gaze but he seemed even more sharp than anytime before. Sundays hands landed on your thighs where he smoothed over your skin and seemed pleased though a touch unsatisfied. you felt near humiliated at his lack of praise but your heart jumped as he coolly removed his gloves and set them along the arm of the chair before lowering his hands once more and nearly purred at the feeling. you felt like a victorian maiden seeing his bare hands for the first time as he appreciated the soft plush skin, palming and dragging his hands along everywhere he saw fit; not a spot was left untouched. his hands slowly slid up further to dip beneath the edge of your skirt and play with the trim along the bloomers you always wore beneath. it seemed as though he got off on layers of clothing if his own outfit was any indication paired with the melodic noises he made at every new piece of fabric. his hands easily slipped around you to undo the zipper and clasp of your skirt, helping you manoeuvre it off followed closely by the shorts. he turned his attention to your top, playing with the neckline before peeling it off as well and leaving you in nothing but your undergarments and jewellery atop his fully clothed lap.
he turned himself to your neck and licked his leo’s before leaning down to place soft kisses and to gently suckle and lick along your skin. you whimpered and shifted in his lap with and air of desperation, earning a chuckle against your throat, hands sliding along your stomach and waist, and a muttered praise you didn’t catch due to the fog swimming in your brain. Sunday gently rocked you back and forth along his lap, the stiffness beneath his trousers evident with every drag. bruises now speckled your skin like diamonds and he leaned back with a sigh to admire his painting. you reached to slide the jacket from his shoulders but he caught your wrists and disapprovingly tsked at you with a faux expression of disappointment.
“none of that, little dove. you’ll take me with only my cock pulled from my trousers. a befitting coupling for us, considering there’s not a doubt in my mind you take pleasure in this humiliation. for a little birdie you most certainly act like a dog in heat,” his fingers danced along your wings and drew a full body shiver from you. Sunday shifted his hips slightly to undo the button and zipper keeping you apart before fishing down his pants to pull out the dick you’d been longing for. he was just as pretty as his face and the tip shone with the evidence of his own arousal. you had to catch yourself before you started actually drooling and making a further fool of yourself. tender hands tugged you upwards to align himself with your needy and weeping hole, brushing himself back and forth teasingly. you almost smacked his chest at the action but he was quick to ease you down before you could. the sighs you both let out synchronized perfectly to create a private duet.
he was a perfect fit inside you. his cock nudged along every oh so sensitive place and curved just right to prod against each delicious spot. Sunday gently gripped your hips to set a rhythm that was intimate and deep, every thrust placed perfectly. you had assumed he was a virgin but his skill seemed to say otherwise. praise flowed from his mouth like a fountain between every delicate sigh and moan as you bounced atop him. you couldn’t help the desperate cries and sobs that left you. one of his hands left your hips to instead dip between your folds and quickly find the pretty bud with his fingertips to play with in tune.
“simply gorgeous. tight, warm, and dripping. you fit me like a glove,” he panted out, “you’re so beautiful above me like this. perhaps i’ve found something new to worship.” Sunday mindlessly let his mouth run and with every sweet phrase you tipped closer and closer to the edge. he felt you clenching clear as day and your hips move slightly more sloppy and desperate. he cooed gently, fingertips moving faster against you to encourage your peak and when you finally tipped over your back arched and your wings fluttered with each pleasured cry and squeeze of your insides. he followed closely behind and warmth spread through your guts. you could’ve sworn he glowed with the force of his own end, every drop seeping inside.
pulling you close to his chest, he smoothed one hand over your back as the other came to dance through your hair. Sunday hummed a tune you couldn’t recognize but was stunning nonetheless. spent and satisfied, you let your eyes shut and bathed in the afterglow until he gently prodded you to go wash up. your whole body was sticky with sweat and when you slid off him with a whimper pearly globs of his seed dripped out of you. you truthfully didn’t want to imagine how he felt through all those layers of clothes but you took pride in every wrinkle staining his typical flawless appearance; it was symbolic of your own victory.
he didn’t hold back, bathing along with you and gently cleaning you of everything between peppered kisses. you hadn’t expected romance to come so easy from Sunday himself but he was evidently well versed in the art. you took time to memorize every freckle and detail of his body finally getting to see him bare. you didn’t miss the flush that rose to his cheeks or the way his wings curled inwards to hide his flustered state and you felt proud to finally get him to feel embarrassed. he was beautiful and you hoped many more encounters would come. maybe you hoped for the relationship to bloom into something deeper too.
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loganhowlettshousewife · 3 months ago
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animal
chapter 4
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friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.
warnings: swearing, drinking/alcohol, mentions of sex, mentions of blood, violence, killing, angst, i hate the pacing of this but i rewrote it like three times and then gave up
series masterlist │my masterlist
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after sharing your first kiss, logan becomes much more clingy. he’s attached to you at nearly all times. if you’d thought he was affectionate before, you had no idea what you were getting into. his favourite thing is to press his face into your neck, licking and biting the skin there, but it’s not just your neck. you’ve become a chew toy for a 400 pound man.
he’s never too harsh with it, always gentle with you. he knows you’re not as strong as him. it’s affectionate nibbling, like dogs biting their owners, and you love it because it’s such a clear sign of logan’s happiness.
it reminds you of the early days with logan, where he couldn’t stand to be in a different room as you, though now it’s no longer out of fear but out of a deep desire for closeness and companionship.
and things are good for a while, like that. you enjoy the ease of your unlabeled relationship. he’s yours and you’re his, in every capacity. there’s no need to put an arbitrary, man-made label on your relationship when most of it is quiet, unspoken. you’ve never really had a conversation about what you are, but it’s obvious.
you had thought yourself happy before meeting logan, at peace with the life you’d made for yourself, self-sufficient and doing all the things you loved. you weren’t slaving away at a corporate job, making hardly enough money to support your hobbies, leaving you with hardly any time to enjoy them anyway. it was good.
this is a different kind of happiness, one you’d thought was only real in fairytales. you feel as though he has some sort of six-sense telling him how you’re feeling, when you’re tense or unhappy. he makes you feel like a princess.
but all good things must come to an end. 
he starts to have more nightmares, takes to sleeping in the guest room because he doesn’t want to keep you awake all night with him. more often than not you’ll hear him shouting in his sleep, deep grunts of pain that have you rising from your bed and joining him, hoping your presence will soothe him.
and you like to think that it does. you never get too close to him when he’s tossing and turning restlessly, claws out, metal gleaming in the low moonlight streaming from the gap in the curtains, but you know that logan’s senses are enhanced, heightened, and so you hope that he can feel your presence even while stuck in a nightmare, that you can drag him out of it. eventually he always either settles or wakes up, though both are better alternatives than watching him struggle against an invisible enemy.
you’ve had a few more close calls, where his claws get a little too close, where you let your guard down and lean closer towards him even though you know better, because your heart aches for him.
he becomes more human by the day. he doesn’t tell you when his memories start to come back to him, but you can tell.
you can tell when you get home to find him on the couch with a bottle of whiskey that he must have gotten from the cellar, the one you’d never shown him how to find. it belonged to your grandfather, so you’d gotten it along with the house, but you don’t drink very often and so you haven’t made much use of it.
he takes large swigs of the half-empty bottle, the smell of whiskey on his breath and the taste of booze on his tongue when you go to kiss him. 
you can tell when he becomes less expressive with you, no longer sharing his emotions on his face or with his behaviour as easily as before. he doesn’t bound up to you and sniff you to check where you’ve been, to check if anyone’s gotten too close, their scent clinging onto your clothes. he doesn’t growl when he’s upset or annoyed, just grits his teeth and clenches his jaw tight.
you can tell by the way he holds back his little noises when you pull his head into your lap, scratching at his scalp and tugging on the longer tufts of his hair that you’d jokingly started to refer to as kitty ears. you miss the soft purring, the knowledge that logan was happy and comfortable with you.
sometimes you’ll plan out conversations in your head, acting out how you’ll talk to him and the words you’ll use and how he might reply. but when you try to ask him if he’s alright, placing a hand on his trembling one, sitting down in his lap so he can’t escape, he always shrugs it off. he tells you you’re sweet for worrying about him and kisses you until you no longer remember what you wanted to say.
there’s something happening in his mind that he’s not telling you about, but you chalk up all his odd behaviours to him needing time to deal with remembering his old life.
if his constant nightmares tell you anything, it’s that the memories returning to him aren’t positive ones. there’s a pain in him that wasn’t there before, a darkness that lingers behind his eyes, haunted by things he’s seen. you can’t imagine anyone would deal very well with the onslaught of traumas returning with a vengeance.
he doesn’t stop kissing you, doesn’t stop hugging you from behind, doesn’t stop surprising you by sneaking up behind you and picking you up out of nowhere, making you shriek and giggle. so you tell yourself you’re being dramatic, it’ll resolve itself in time.
it doesn’t.
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he goes out to run through the forest, to hunt as the natural predator he was always meant to be, but when he comes back he won’t speak to you. he shrugs you off, locking the door to the bathroom so you can’t meet him in there.
it’s a small thing, but it’s a crack in the routines you and logan have been building together, the wordless nature of your relationship crumbling around you because all of a sudden it no longer feels like the two of you are on the same wavelength.
you cry silently on the couch, head in your hands, feeling like your world is collapsing. the perfect bubble that had settled around you and logan had popped, and now reality was coming in to destroy the fantasy you’d grown accustomed to. you should have seen it coming - in fact, you had, with every night he spent in a bottle instead of on your lips, but you’d chosen to ignore it.
he doesn’t seem to be as in-tune with your emotions anymore, and you wonder if it’s because he simply doesn’t care enough to try.
the through wrenches you in two.
you had given logan your heart, placed it in his rough, calloused hands and asked him to hold it for you. and now you could feel that very same hand, once so gentle and careful, squeezing tighter and tighter, a physical ache.
you need time away from him, away from the house where every corner has memories attached. so you journey into town.
you’re out for a while, walking aimlessly. the streets grow dark, the sun setting in hues of orange and pink behind the horizon, streetlamps turning on to replace the sunlight, though their dim glow is hardly an effective replacement. and still, you don’t return home, not quite ready to face logan.
it’s as you’re preparing to head back, muttering reassuring words to yourself under your breath, that someone grabs you from behind, a hand against your mouth so you can’t scream. you’re shoved into an alley, thin and dingy between two shops that have already closed for the night, their employees gone home to rest, no one around to hear your struggles.
you scream, though the sound is muffled, and cry and kick at your assailant, but he won’t let go. he’s stronger than you.
you think about logan, who doesn’t know where you are, who probably walked out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist, stray droplets of water tracing down the grooves of his abs. you think about how on any other day you would have kissed down his chest to catch the water on your lips, not yet venturing below his waist, though you’ve done other things.
you hope you don’t die tonight. there’s still so much you haven’t done, so much you haven’t said.
and then the body holding yours is gone and you fall to the ground, knees scraping the pavement on your way down. you cry and cry, fear and anger and relief all washing together into a mess you can’t name. you barely notice the sounds of your assailant begging for mercy, or the low growl from your saviour. but you can smell the blood in the air, the tang of iron.
“what the fuck were you thinking?” strong arms lift you up and instinctively you squirm to try to get away, until a hand grabs your chin and forces your gaze upwards. logan’s furious glare stares back at you, his eyes narrowed and jaw tense.
“i- i’m sorry,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out, and you collapse against him. because even if he’s covered in blood and his claws are still out and he’s just murdered a man, even if he’s clearly angry and dangerous, you’ve never felt safer.
he’s quiet the whole way home. he doesn’t speak to you as he carries you inside the house, refusing to let you walk on your own, doesn’t speak to you as he cleans the cuts on your knees, doesn’t speak to you as he settles you down on the couch with a soft blanket fresh out of the dryer, doesn’t speak to you as he makes your tea the exact way you like it.
and then, “wanna tell me what you were doing out there? you know it’s unsafe for a pretty girl like you after dark, you don’t need me telling you that.”
“i just needed some air,” you argue, though there’s not much heat behind the words, staring down at your steaming mug of tea, watching the unmoving liquid as if it’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. logan scoffs, and you can see him in your peripheral vision, looking so unlike the man you thought you knew.
“there’s plenty of air here, we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere.”
“you know what i mean,” you sigh, and he stares at you with his hands on his hips until you roll your eyes and continue, “i needed to be away from you! is that what you want to hear? you’re different lately and it scares me because everything was so great for some time and now you’re…”
“different?” he laughs sharply, “yeah, i’ve got my memories back. i remember every awful fucking thing that’s ever happened to me, every time i’ve been tortured. you know how many times i’ve been tortured? you think i’d act the same after that?”
“it’s not that,” you argue, placing your mug down on the coffee table, “we don’t sleep in the same bed anymore! you refuse to let me see you when you come home after hunting! you don’t cuddle up to me like you did before! you used to kiss my neck all the time and now you don’t! you’re just… pulling away. and i know i’m being selfish, fuck do i know it. but every time i’ve tried to have a conversation with you about this you shut it down so what was i supposed to do, logan?”
“you wanna have a conversation?” he shouts, “fine, talk.”
your breath is coming out in ragged pants. there’s a fire in your veins, a fury you haven’t felt in a very long time, it’s intensity paralysing you. you watch logan’s face, the way he stands before you, his imposing figure stretched above yours.
and there’s nothing you can say. the words you’ve been preparing every night before bed for days and days flutter away in a breeze. all you can do is watch his chest rising and falling.
“i wish you would talk to me,” is the only thing you manage to choke out.
“you’re not getting that version of me back,” he says, voice finally softening into something resembling his usual gruff but not unkind tone, “i remember who i am now. so you gotta let go of this shit, or you gotta let go of me.”
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taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff @misscrissfemmefatale @mynamesstevenwithav @teaganthemorningstar @blackkatzz @leryg0 @fries11 @forksloree @i5uckersblog @dragovegogrimborn @quillycrow @melday0105 @just-a-little-cellist @scorpiosaintt @akasha157-blog
if your name is in white it means i couldn’t tag you for some reason. i’m very sorry :(
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lie-lacdreams · 3 months ago
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The Admiration I Have for You Flows Like the Water Above Our Heads (Daisuke x Reader)
As you wait in the meantime for Thermo & Turmoil, here is something purely self-indulgent. I really do believe Daisuke's top giving love language to be acts of service.
Word count ~ 1k
Steam filled the room and cleared the pressure of your sinuses, unravelling the pent up tension that culminated into a headache. While the pressure of the shower head wasn’t the best, the trickling of the water down your body felt marvellous as soap and water not only lifted and took away the dirt from your skin but seemingly the strain of a day’s work as well. The constant rushing of the water provided a white noise to create the illusion of silence that was pleasant, but not deafening. It was a haven, providing a space for clarity and a chance to breathe on this stuffy space ship you were on. 
A creak of the door behind the shower curtain pulled you out of your thoughts as the ruffled sound of fabric followed sequentially. These sounds weren’t alarming, but rather familiar – at this point, almost routinely. The curtain opened to reveal your anticipated showering buddy, smiling down at you trying to conceal his fatigue. 
You ushered him under the direct stream of hot water and he let out a hiss of relief. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he initiated some quiet chatter, asking about your day and telling you stories of his. 
Oh, Daisuke. You knew how hardworking he was. It was so evident from the stiff muscles of his back you massaged soap into, the bags under his eyes as he looked down at you in admiration, and the difference in how he distributed his weight as he held you now in opposition to how he did in the morning. 
So considerate and eager to please, he would always reach for the heaviest equipment first so his older mentor could take the lighter loads, and would happily do anything that was asked of him. You noticed how he would offer to retrieve things people needed without hesitation, and the first thing out of his mouth was always “can I do it?” The others brushed it off as excitement in a new job, but you knew better. 
He now popped the shampoo bottle open and collected the product before massaging it into your scalp. While not the most thorough of a job, you knew that Daisuke tried his best in everything that he did, and that was sufficient for you. You cherished the heart and soul he put into it. 
Back on Earth, you knew him to be the same as he was up here; he was just misunderstood. You grew up alongside him, where you saw how teachers undermined his work and peers avoided picking him to be in group projects; even his parents were doubtful of the future success of their son. But again, you knew better. Underneath your hands was a man who would do nearly anything to prove his worth. He never let people’s doubts about him get to his self esteem, but rather leveraged it as fuel to motivate him to try again and do a better job next time. 
Always the optimist, he inspired you to follow his example and fail upwards. You were always anxious about the future and so you were so grateful to have such a carefree best friend turned lover who always reassured you that together you’d figure out what the universe had in store for you. 
Wrapping his arms around your waist he pressed your body to his, allowing most of the water to wash you down as you rinsed out soap from your hair. The way he looked at you, even with your eyes squinted to block shampoo from going in, never failed to make you swoon. 
He was always thinking about you, and it wasn’t something he tried to hide at all. After his mother had found this internship for him, he immediately found you and made you apply with him. He always knew you were worried about never being able to have a career. Entry-level positions for students were hard to come by nowadays and after a pile of rejections, it was a miracle that you both had gotten something at all, but fate that you got to do it for over a year, together. 
Opening your eyes again gave him the indication that you had washed off all of the soap, and he took that as a cue to go in for a kiss. 
You always knew you loved him; it was nothing you felt like you needed to deny. After all, you knew that he loved you too. The nights of playing video games together, sides pressed up against each other and uncontrollably laughing told you so. The way he held your hair as you felt sick in the toilet after too many drinks on your twenty-first birthday, taking you home to remove your makeup for you and make you drink more water told you so. But somewhere along the way that love turned into a realisation of romance, and the transition was seamless. 
As he pushed his lips into yours more now, you tasted a ghost of sweetness from his tongue to yours and you smiled, immediately connecting the dots to the origins of his taste. You loved how easy it was to understand him – it only made you love his antics more. 
Breaking the kiss, you stared up at him, only for him to press his forehead to yours. The two of you broke into soft laughter, unable to contain the hilarity of such an angle of each other. After a long day of work, spending time with the one who loved and understood you the most was what you looked forward to. And when you looked back at him, you could tell that it was the same for him as well. 
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aventurineswife · 3 months ago
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Can I ask for aventurine with an s/o who looks really giddy and excited except they're actually really nervous and depressive inside to the point they randomly stop acting happy one day and tell Aventurine that he can break up with them anytime he wants since they don't feel sufficient for him? Like they don't think they can compete with the pretty ladies he must see at the casino?-
“You're Everything”
Summary: Aventurine has always been able to read people, but the one person he can't quite figure out is you, his partner. Though outwardly cheerful, you've been hiding insecurities beneath your bright demeanor. One evening, during a quiet moment at home, your walls finally come down as you confess your self-doubt, feeling unworthy of Aventurine’s affection. This revelation shatters the illusion that everything is fine, and Aventurine takes the opportunity to reassure you of your worth.
Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Romance, Emotional Support, Insecurity, Reassurance, Vulnerability, Tender Moments, Established Relationship, Confessions, Trust.
Warnings: Mild emotional distress, Insecurity/confidence issues, Mild mentions of self-doubt.
A/N: shit why does that sound like me...? 😕💔
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Aventurine had always been able to read people, to sense when something wasn’t quite right, when the masks people wore didn’t match the truth lurking beneath. But there was something about you—about how you always wore that giddy, almost dizzying smile—that kept him second-guessing himself. You never seemed to show your hand, always too busy hiding your true feelings behind that infectious energy.
It had taken time, but over the months of your relationship, he’d come to know you better, catching the subtle hints when your laughter wasn’t quite as bright or your movements just a little too stiff. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t worry—his strategic mind always assumed something was amiss, but you had become his anchor. He’d convinced himself that he didn’t need to dig deeper, that everything was fine as long as you looked happy. But deep down, that little seed of doubt always lingered, nestled in the back of his mind.
And that day... that day it all came crashing down.
It started with a quiet evening at home. The two of you had shared a meal, laughed about something trivial, and as always, you had worn that bubbly, almost too-exuberant smile. But there was a shift, a subtle drop in the energy that only someone who had spent so much time with you would notice. The tension in your shoulders, the way your eyes darted away when he met your gaze—it was like a veil had dropped, leaving a raw vulnerability behind.
You didn’t say anything at first, as if waiting for him to notice, to say something. But then, just as he was about to speak, you broke the silence.
"I don't think I'm good enough for you." you muttered, voice strained. Your hands trembled slightly, though you tried to keep them hidden in your lap.
Aventurine’s heart twisted. The moment you said those words, the mask shattered, and the heavy truth hit him. You hadn’t been your usual self—hadn't been genuinely happy—and he knew it was time to uncover the secret you’d been holding in.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, studying you carefully. “What do you mean by that?” His tone was soft, but there was a depth of concern behind it.
You swallowed, trying to compose yourself, but the words kept slipping out in a rush. "I—I don’t know, I just feel... like you could do so much better. I see how you are at the casino, surrounded by all those beautiful, confident women, and I... I can’t compete with them. I don’t even feel like I’m enough for you. You can... break up with me anytime you want. I wouldn't blame you."
The words hit Aventurine like a sucker punch. He froze for a moment, his usually steady hand twitching as he fought the urge to reach out and pull you into his arms. But instead, he stayed where he was, keeping his distance, allowing the weight of your words to settle between the two of you.
His gaze softened, his eyes fixing on you with an intensity that left no room for doubt. “You think I’m with you because of how you compare to others?” he asked, his voice a little more stern than usual. But underneath it was something deeper—something fragile, as if he was trying to keep his own composure intact.
Your head hung low, and you nodded, unable to meet his eyes. “I don’t know… It just feels like... I’m not enough for someone like you. You deserve someone who can make you happy without all this baggage."
Aventurine let out a small sigh, shaking his head slightly, as if processing the sheer weight of your words. His lips twitched upward into a soft, bittersweet smile, the kind that spoke of knowing something far deeper than surface-level impressions. He stood and walked over to you slowly, his movements calculated, but not with the usual sharpness of someone managing a deal. No, this was different. His steps were careful, as if afraid of shattering the delicate balance between the two of you.
Reaching out, he cupped your chin gently with one hand, lifting your face so you would meet his gaze. "You really think I care about comparing you to other people?" His voice, though steady, held a quiet intensity that resonated through you. "Look at me. Look at me, and understand something."
You blinked up at him, your heart thundering in your chest.
Aventurine exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “What matters to me, what’s always mattered to me, is you. Not the ‘pretty ladies,’ not the ones who look perfect on the outside. I’ve never cared about that. Not when it’s you who can make me laugh when the world feels like it’s closing in. Not when it’s you who makes me feel... human, not just the strategist, not just the Stoneheart. I don’t need anyone else."
You felt a pang in your chest at his words, but it only deepened when he continued.
“You think you're not enough, but you're everything. The fact that you’re here, sharing this with me, means more than you can imagine. You want to know why I chose you?” His voice was softer now, coaxing, as if breaking through a dam that had held so much back. "Because you're you. You don't have to pretend to be someone you're not. You never have to compete with anyone else, not when I’ve already chosen you."
Tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t wipe them away. His words felt like a balm to wounds you hadn't realized were so deep.
Aventurine gave you a small, sincere smile, his gaze unwavering. “I’m not going anywhere. And if you ever doubt it again, I’ll remind you. But I’m asking you now, don’t doubt yourself. Not for a second. You’re exactly what I need, exactly what I want.”
The weight that had been crushing your chest seemed to lift, and for the first time in a long while, you breathed a little easier. You couldn’t help but let out a shaky laugh, your lips curving upward despite the wetness still on your cheeks.
Aventurine laughed with you, the sound warm and full of tenderness. “There’s that smile again. I’m never letting go of it.” He wiped a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb, his eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t quite put into words.
In that moment, you understood. You weren’t just his partner. You were his, completely and irrevocably, no matter what the world outside thought or how you felt inside.
And with that, you finally let the real smile break free, one that didn’t feel forced, one that was only for him.
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thedemoninme141 · 5 months ago
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Her Heartbeat, Chapter 1: Her Anger.
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Summary: Wednesday's anger got her into trouble, Where do you come along?
Warnings: There isn't really any warning but I guess WednesdayBeatingPeople???? FLUFF!!!! No angst in this chapter, but who knows what happens in the future...
Masterlist
Wednesday sat there, in her dorm, right in front of the half-colored half-dead window.Your diary in her hand. And for the first time in her life, Wednesday felt anger. Anger was for people who lost control, who let their emotions drive their actions, who lashed out in fits of rage. Wednesday was never angry. She was annoyed most of the time, but angry? Never. At least that's what she kept telling herself. But inside, her blood simmered with a quiet rage, an anger that she had never considered a flaw but rather a necessary tool for survival. It was not an issue—it was a tolerance bar. And God help whoever crosses it.
So when those boys at Weathervane decided to mock Enid, they unknowingly signed their own fate. The day was already going bad and Wednesday's tolerance bar had reached its limit, and she had done what she deemed appropriate. Enid had tried to stop her, of course, pulling on her arm. She was still in control, right?
Okay fine! She broke a few bones, dislocated a jaw or two, and made sure they would remember to keep Enid’s name out of their mouths for as long as they lived.
When the cops came to the scene, Wednesday was still standing over the boys, wiping her knuckles with a napkin. She was arrested for the third time in her life. Or was it fourth time? Those boys were arrested too, but somehow it was only Wednesday who ended up with a mandatory sentence: Anger Management Therapy sessions. How utterly ridiculous. What could possibly be wrong with expressing herself in a way that ensured she was heard, understood, and remembered?
"You cannot say no, Wednesday, if you do not attend and pass this therapy session, I will have no choice but to expel you."
Ugh, why did Weems even survive Thornhill's poison?
And that’s how Wednesday found herself stuck in this new circle of hell. It was infuriating. It was unjust. And it was a complete waste of time.
The sessions were held in a nondescript building just off the main street in Jericho, where people who had done things they "shouldn't" were supposed to fix themselves. They were meant to "reflect," "heal," and "improve." Wednesday didn't need improvement. She was perfect as she was, she was everything they could never be: self-sufficient, rational, and unapologetic.
The group leader, David, was an insufferable man in his mid-thirties. And much to Wednesday's dismay, he was the male version of Enid. He was incessantly cheerful, overly intrusive, and sickeningly optimistic about everyone’s potential for change. Wednesday found him exhausting.
David had made it his mission to get Wednesday to "open up," constantly encouraging her to share her feelings, recount her past, and dig deep into the source of her "anger." But Wednesday refused to play his game. She sat through the sessions in stony silence, expressing her disinterest as the other participants spoke of their mistakes and regrets. The only sound she made was the tap of her boots. Maybe she can annoy David enough to get kicked out of this nonsense.
She showed up late, ignored his questions, and rolled her eyes whenever he tried to address her. But David was unflappable. He would only chuckle softly, as if she were some mischievous child whose antics were endearing rather than infuriating. Every time she pushed, he merely pushed back with more patience, more persistence, and an infuriatingly steady resolve. After a while, she realized he would not break, and she would only be prolonging her sentence by continuing to fight him.
She attended every session and waited silently while the others poured their hearts out. She refused to say a word, they didn't deserve to know a thing about her. Maybe things aren't exactly too bad. She can just go through alone without causing any trouble so David can finally give some positive feedback on her report and let her be free.
But he had thrown a new wrench into her already miserable routine. He announced, with that obnoxious grin plastered on his face, that they were now required to bring a "partner" to the sessions. Someone who can vouch for them, that they are making progress outside of the therapy session too. Someone who could act as their support system, their "anchor" in times of distress. As if she needed an anchor.
The mere thought of dragging someone else into this circus wasn't exactly unpleasing. At least she could pass her time watching them suffer.
But the problem was she didn't have a line of volunteers waiting to join her in group therapy
Enid, unsurprisingly, had refused immediately, citing her “makeup sessions” with Yoko as an excuse. Wednesday could see right through her, though. Enid’s answer wasn’t about makeup; it was about not wanting to spend her Fridays and Saturdays in a gloomy room with a bunch of disgruntled teenagers and their annoying leader. And honestly, can Wednesday blame her?
Eugene was a possibility, but he was too innocent, too eager to please. He would end up making her look ridiculous in front of the group.
Xavier would have jumped at the opportunity if he hadn’t transferred out last month, much to Wednesday’s relief. Wednesday needed someone but Xavier? Ew, Wednesday wasn't that desperate.
However, she was desperate enough to ask Bianca, who, getting the chance, mocked her before refusing her, “You got yourself in this mess, Wednesday. Surely you can get yourself out,”
That left no one. Not a single person who would willingly subject themselves to the torture of these sessions, and certainly not for her sake. But David had made it clear: no partner, no progress. And no progress meant more sessions, dragging on into the foreseeable future until she complied.
Fine. Screw Bianca. Screw this whole place, this entire ridiculous therapy group, and all its pointless exercises. There wasn’t even a single murder to investigate, no mysteries to solve, nothing to occupy her mind except these meaningless tasks assigned by the so-called professionals who think they can ‘fix’ her. Wednesday was done. Maybe she should run away again. Yes, she could slip out, make her way to Weathervane, and catch a bus to anywhere but here. No one would miss her, and she wouldn’t miss them.
Wednesday was so engrossed in her thoughts of escape that she didn’t even notice when someone approached her. It wasn’t until she heard an exasperated voice that she snapped out of it.
“Hey! Are you even listening?”
She blinked, her gaze shifting to the source of the interruption. A girl stood in front of her, arms crossed, looking more annoyed than intimidated. Wednesday’s eyebrows knit together.
“Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Y/n.”
Wednesday raised an eyebrow, completely unimpressed. “Congratulations. So what am I supposed to do with that information?”
"Ugh" you groaned “Well, I need your help,” you stated, trying to sound confident but there was an edge of uncertainty in your voice.
“No.” Wednesday didn’t even bother to ask what you needed.
“Oh, come on!” you shot back, clearly annoyed by her immediate dismissal. “At least ask what I need help with! I heard you’re quite good with these kinds of things.”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What things? If you’re talking about murdering someone, then sure.”
“No, not murdering someone!” You glanced around nervously, almost mumbling. “It’s… umm… kind of like that, but not really… how do I say it…”
Wednesday cut you off with a sharp glare. “Waste my time, and you'll be the one getting murdered.”
“Okay, Jesus, calm down,” you muttered. “I need your help kidnapping someone.”
Wednesday blinked, taken aback. Her expression flickered with surprise, but it was quickly masked by her usual indifference.
"Why would you even think I’d help you? Wait, first of all why would you even think I’m qualified for this job?"
"Because you’re bored," you said plainly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You see, I missed the last few months of last year, so I missed your grand entrance and your Hyde case, but I’ve heard about your reputation. How you took down Crackstone and how you saved the school. But I know you didn’t do it for the school—you did it for the thrill. For the challenge. You like going against the system."
She hated how accurate that was. It made her uneasy, like you could see right through her. Still, she wasn’t about to admit that you were right. Instead, she said, “No,” once more and got up, ready to walk away.
“Wait, I can give you money.” you blurted out.
The audacity... Wednesday stopped in her tracks, turning to glare at you. “What on earth is wrong with you? Do you really think I’m some kind of hired goon? Someone you can just pay off?”
Your face flushed, and you quickly shook your head.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. It just… slipped out. Please, I really need your help. Just tell me what I have to do.”
Wednesday should have turned around and left. She should have put as much distance between herself and this ridiculous request as possible. And yet… there was something in your audacity that intrigued her. Besides, she did need a partner for her therapy sessions, and making someone else suffer through them could be mildly entertaining.
"Fine," Wednesday said, her voice low and measured. "I’ll help you, but in return—"
You didn’t even let her finish. "Okay, done, agreed."
Wednesday blinked, momentarily thrown off by your eagerness. She hadn’t even told you what you would need to do, but you didn’t seem to care. You grabbed her hand, pulling her along with you as you headed towards the main gate.
"We don’t have much time," you said hurriedly. "We need to kidnap her right now."
Wednesday stumbled slightly as you dragged her along. Why wasn't she yanking her hand back? Her brows furrowed in confusion.
"Right now? Without any plan or any information?"
"Yeah, yeah," you said dismissively, waving your hand as if that was a minor detail. "I’ll tell you that on the way to the asylum."
“The what?” Wednesday’s voice rose slightly.
You just kept walking, your grip on her hand firm, and for once, Wednesday found herself caught up in someone else’s madness instead of her own.
CHAPTER 2 : Her Touch
[Author's note: Celine pretty much wrote the chapter 1, I just made some changes here and there, lol it took more time for me to create the art for this project than writing this, good news is Chapter 2 and 3 are almost ready.]
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