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screampied · 5 months ago

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ʚ BUBBLE, POP, ELECTRIC ?! ɞ

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. it’s your birthday and your sugar daddy takes you on a spree to the mall. perhaps buying a new set of panties with his initials engraved on it to tease him wasn’t the brightest idea. get in loser, you’re going shopping.

wc. 5.5k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), unprotected, semi-public risky themes, dry humping, implied multiple rounds, lots of praise, squırting, fıngering, dumbification, ōral (f! receiving), dirty talk, brēeding, petnames.

➤ sd!gojo masterlist

“a- anything?”

“anything, darlin,” satoru hums with a teasing smile, burying both hands into his pockets. your face lit up as he happily slides his black card into your palm. it had a glinting shine to it, your eyes gape at the sixteen digit code plastered on the front with his full name in bold, ‘satoru gojo.’ the both of you stood near the center of a busy, packed mall. it was an ordinary hot friday, and since it was also your birthday, he decided why not let you pick your special gift. the older man leans down, planting a kiss against your forehead. “go crazy, yeah? ‘s your day, gorgeous. the pricier, the better. buy something that’ll be easy ‘ta tear off. oh, i mean uh— buy something pretty, heh.”

you felt a wave of heat burn over you. you could never, never get enough his praises. satoru’s eyes remain on you as you clutch on one of the many purses he bought you. “toru, you don’t have to.”

“shh, you’re my baby,” he reassures you, pulling you close. you lean into his embrace, feeling the palm of his hand caress circles against your back. he feels the thin straps of your top glue against your skin. his cologne, it was forevermore intoxicating. in a husky low tone, satoru whispers. “i wanna spoil you extra hard today,” and you gasp, feeling him nuzzle into your neck. “what do ya say, sweets? i heard victoria’s secret has a few new deals goin’ on right now, heh.”

you spent the next good hour shopping, going to any store that just so happened to pique your fancy. you told gojo that you’d save victoria’s secret for last, and he nodded.

of course, he tagged along with you. like the gentleman he was, he carried your weighty bags for you like they were nothing.

“gonna run me for my money, huh sweets?” he snickers, an arm slinging around your shoulder as you stood beside him on the escalator. as it slowly took you both upstairs—you let off a tiny exhale. you were preparing to go toward the second floor of the mall.

with a coy smile, you brush a thumb against the edges of your skirt. “o- oh, sorry ‘toru,” and you knew he was teasing, he’d buy you the world if he could. he was stood so close next to you that you could almost always get a good whiff of his loud scent. “didn’t mean to get so much stuff.”

“sweetheart, i’m joking you know that,” he hums, stepping back to let you get off the moving escalator first. it was so packed, dozens of people walking around each part of the centre. it was full of chatter and laughter. a whirring breeze sets against your skin as he steps beside you, leaning down to plant a kiss near your forehead. “tired out yet? or do ya have more pretty stuff ‘ta buy?”

speaking of pretty, satoru gojo was the prettiest.

he stood out in the mall—he was an elite businessman but people were smart enough to not disturb him while he’s spending time with you.

so classy, he was always wearing the finest richest suits, preferably black or white ones. long, stretched out slacks to show off his legs and his hair. gojo’s hair was always neatly done, as he aged he usually settled with a parted style, a visible undercut to run his fingers through to pass time.

thin white bangs would run down his eyes a few times—occluding his vision. gojo would often find himself digging his hands into his pockets as he happily watches you drain his wallet.

“we can go get some lingerie now,” you murmur out, hearing some random pop song blare through the mall’s speakers.

“we? aw, am i gettin’ dolled up too?”

he peers at you as your expression twists to abashed embarrassment. gojo chuckles, a soft thumb brushing against your cheek lovingly. “you’re so cute, i’m teasing. let’s go then, lead the way princess.”

you ended up getting at least three new sets, including the brand new panties gojo’s been rambling to you about nonstop.

he told you how he’s recently got a partnership with the store.

a million dollar partnership at that — his new ‘satoru gojo’ limited edition panties were finally launched, and at first the idea of his name on underwear made him grouse. thanks to gojo’s hefty contribution to the company, they’ve gained a lot of new customers over the past summer. but, the moment you pick them out with a cute curious smile, he only cared about how you’d like them. so far, he’s heard from the reviews of buyers that it was quite soft, cottony and synthetic.

waterproof also, and gojo being gojo brought that specific fact up to you about a dozen times.

“can i open my eyes now, darlin'?” a low, husky yet playful voice calls out. gojo sat manspread in the dressing room, awaiting for you to show the final results of the product. “mhh, ‘s kinda dangerous to jus’ let my imagination roam, you know.”

“hold on, satoru.” you roll your eyes, slipping on the panties. they were really pretty, they fit perfectly and had tiny blue bows on the side.

you spun around near the nearby mirror, taking in your figure. it had a thong yet bikini type shape to them. stretchy and all, not to mention it was very comfortable—not too tight whatsoever. right on the back, you spot the infamous letters that were sewn in bedazzled rhinestones, front ‘n center.

‘ satoru gojo, ’

you felt a brew of heat tickle its way down your thighs before you strut toward the white haired man. even sitting down, he’s so attractive. long legs stretch themselves out as he’s laid back against the concrete wall. he’s surrounded by colorful bent hangers, the dressing room was spacey enough. as he sat on the bench, he taps his foot. “baby, i can feel you lookin’ at me. are ya done?”

“yeah,” you utter, slowly removing his hands away from his eyes. “you can look now.”

it takes him a moment to register the sight — you stand still, feeling his cerulean blue eyes awe at your beauty.

oh, your curves, his blown irises linger everywhere so intently that it makes you feel small in the best way. your heart’s thumps accelerate as he’s got a growing smug smile curling against his pink lips.

“oh my,” he purrs out, a hand cupping under his chin. his expensive g-shock shimmers against the luminescent ceiling light as also he gently pulls his bottom lip down. his stare makes you nervous and you don’t even know why. “spin around for me.”

you do, twirling your body slowly and his eyes get a front view of your ass. you still wore your blouse, feeling his gaze burn into your rear.

“goddamn,” and you let off a soft breath, feeling his hands gingerly creep up against your thighs. “you look gorgeous in anything,” he whispers, inching his lips toward your backside. gojo then drags his twitching, crooked lips toward the left cheek of your ass. it smooches against the lace fabric, a thumb stroking the letters of his own name. “i’ll buy this entire brand just to see you walk around ‘n these for me, sweetheart.”

“satoru don’t do that,” you protest, gasping once he parts your legs open a bit. with you, his touch was always gentle. he couldn’t ever keep his hands off of you though. his strokes continue to roam, and that’s when he playfully bites your ass cheek. “h- hey!”

“sorry, baby,” he chuckles, giving it a soft teasing smack. gojo hears you whine out in need before he turns you back around. “mhh, don’t give me that pout. come give ‘toru some sugar instead.”

your heart always flutters whenever he says that, those sweet words never fail to strike right into your heart. churning the pit insides of your stomach that’s already packed with butterflies swarming everywhere.

as you slowly make your way toward him, tantalizingly, he cocks his head to the right.

“don’t be shy, i won’t bite today,” he flashes you a soft toothy grin, patting his lap for you to take your favorite seat. wasting no time, you sit on his lap, your bare skin brushing up against his loose fitted slacks. “good girl,” and his hands meet your waist. zeroing his eyes down your sweet physique, he strokes your bottom lip. “closer.”

the moment you finally close the distance, your lips press against his. a cheeky smile curls against his mouth — a groan shortly following out of his throat, betraying his playful demeanor. you moan, finding it impossible to not move a bit against him. as you gradually grind against his lap, delving your tongue between his, he lets off a sharp breath. “mhm,” pretty snowy lashes of his shut tight, fluttering as he’s poking a single thumb against your hip. gojo tastes sweet, sweeter than he’s ever been. peppermint lives on his tongue, running against your tastebuds and with utmost grace, you relish in it. the flavor, its additive and his touch wasn’t helping. a raspy groan slithers into your mouth once your grinding speeds up, the bottom part of your panties grazes against his secret growing boner and he huffs.

“f- fuck, baby,” he snarls, breaking away from the kiss to look down. there, he spots it. he was indeed hard, he’s been hard this entire time you’ve been splurging hefty amounts on his black card. the moment you gave him a little show of the sediment panties, that was the final straw. “you’re such a tease, y’know,” and you gasp once he slides a lengthy finger toward the cottony fabric. “ooh, is someone already a mess? lemme see ya.”

and as you’re just barely hovering over his lap, legs sprawled apart for him, he swipes the fat print of his thumb inside. “s- satoruuu.” you hiss out, the last syllable of his name elongated and cutely dramatic. a bit loud, you had to remind yourself the two of you were in a store. indeed, you were soaked already. part of you thinks it was because of his showering praises.

every time he calls you a ‘good girl’ or his ‘pretty girl’ you felt the stickiness between your thighs dampen. it was just embarrassing.

“can’t believe you’ve been hidin’ this mess this entire time,” the white haired man almost pouts, a tone of playfulness humming underneath his tone. two of his fingers poke their way between the middle part of your panties, prodding against your soppy pussy. “oh, look at that. so fuckin’ nasty,” and cunning blue eyes flicker straight at you, making you gulp in ignominy. “sweetheart, you do know i gotta pay for this. did ya forget?”

“o- oh.” and reality hits you again. he was right, you were soaking panties that weren’t even bought yet.

you could feel yourself dripping, a little damp spot forming its way against the woolen linen.

“yeah, oh,” he mocks your cute surprised word, easing a single thumb past your slit. it’s swollen, he feels the eager twitch of it and your legs rock back in lewd rapture. “awh, how cute. you want my thumb, princess?”

“y- yes,” you whine, tossing your arms over his broad shoulders. the man eyes you with a haughty expression, continuing to flick the edge of his thumb in and out of your puffed clit. the panties were still on and you clenched your jaw before letting off a needy sigh. “take them off, ‘toru. please.”

he gives you a long stare before humming. “nah,” and a pout twines against your glossed lips. with his right hand, it grips your ass, his thumb resuming to fondle your skin before it tenderly starts to go in. “silly girl. panties are for wearing,” he teases, and your lips part themselves open once he successfully eases his way inside. you’re already so sloppy, spiraling all underneath his fingers. a white brow of gojo’s crimps into an intrigued furrow before he buries his nose into your neck. “ah, ah. don’t hold back those moans, let me hear that pretty voice.”

“but- we’re in public.”

“i won’t be crazy this time, i promise sweets, heh.”

total lie,

he says he won’t be crazy yet here you were bent over, face shoved into the wall, legs all parted. you moan, feeling his tongue dip straight into your cunt, slurping a loooong suck of your honeyed sweet. your thighs weakly tremble a bit at the teasing sensation of his stubble gracefully bristling against your skin. your cheek presses up on the glass of the other mirror that sits up against the wall. “f- fuuuuck.” you whimper out, toes curling up in utter ecstasy. his tongue, it was always so messy. messy and long, you whimper out once he dives straight in.

dipping in and out, no manners whatsoever. he’s nose deep, lolling it out all the way until he’s shamelessly drooling down your drizzling folds.

even still,

your panties were still on the entire time — they were lazily pulled to the side. with his eyes closed, he’s letting his tongue wander everywhere. you whine, digging the edges of your teeth into your bawled up fist. “arch more baby,” he whispers, hot breath ghosting right against your cunt. the store was blasting obnoxiously loud music, you hoped no one would walk in, hoped no one would see. the door was closed but still. once he watches your back obediently raise up at his command, he hums, nibbling right against your cunt. “atta girl, gimme that arch, uh huh.”

gojo groans, eating you out from behind, using a single hand to make your legs spread just a bit further. the continuous squeaks that pours out your lips makes him ten times harder than he already was. “ngh, t- toru,” you start to huff, feeling a crushing pull yank its way at your lungs. your breathing only started to get more crazed. as he’s spelling out the ten different letters of his name. you whine out a sobbing mewl, feeling the way his tongue curls once he flicks a sweet ‘s’ in your pussy. the swirl — your back only arches more, the skin of your cheek practically glued against the mirror. “ohmygodd.”

“y’r so fuckin’ hot,” he purrs out, and you’re so busy focused on his tongue that you didn’t even realize he had two fingers shoved inside you already. they’re so long, they reach into the very caves of your walls, specific spots that you didn’t even know could be located. with a swift motion, his fingertips curl around your cunt, feeling the gripping squeeze. “mhm, that’s it. bare around ‘em just like that,” and he’s making out with your cunt, giving it multiple french kisses. your legs were so close to giving up, you could feel that same annoying smile rub against your pussy. as your lip shivers, you start to breath heavier.

puffing and huffing . . heaving as you let off the same pathetic whimpers for more, more of his sloppy tongue.

he slurps everywhere, making sure to not miss a single spot. gojo sucks against your clitoral hood, knowing just how sensitive that spot made you. as you’re coating not only his fingers but his chin at the same time with your sheeny juices, you couldn’t help but swallow your pity. “i- i’m gonna cum,” you moan, a hand of yours reaching behind to grab onto his head. it lands near the top, gripping onto his strands and shoving him further into your pussy. “satoru, agh,” and you had to cup a hand over your mouth, growing paranoid once your heard a few people right outside your stall.

shit, shit, shit,

all you heard from gojo was that same raspy chuckle as he pumps in his two fingers inside your pussy with the most presumptuous grin on his face. as he’s bent on his knees, his chin was soaked with your slick.

every few seconds, he pries himself off to breathe and clean the lower part of his chiseled face with his tongue. “c’mon, baby. wait a little f’r me,” and his tepid breath repeatedly fans against your fevered skin. the pleasure — the pulsation, you were found with your legs spread and jaw dropped. so close, you could merely taste a salty tang that’s forming on your sugared tastebuds.

satoru gojo was a eater, and he could eat you all day if he really really wanted. your pout from his words makes him laugh. he spots your dumb expressions through the mirror propped up directly in front of you before he starts to spit on your cunt. “ugh, look at her. always so shiny ‘n slick,” and with bright eyes, he stares at the way his saliva trickles down your puckering hole. “ooh,” gojo breaks his mouth away again, lustrous cobwebs of spit dripping down his lips. frantically, you were shaking once he suddenly stopped. as his two fingers still plugged inside of your pussy, he gives the outer part of your entrance teasing pecks. “such a wet girl. listen to her with me, sweetheart.”

“s— fuckk, ‘toru,” you babble out, a sharp swat of his free palm hitting against your ass. suddenly, the cramped up dressing room felt hot. blazing, and yet, your thighs were even hotter. with your lips betraying themselves, curling into a circular shape in pleasure, you barely could make yourself stand still. “pleaseplease.”

“no, baby,” he gifts your cunt it’s final kiss, one of his hands running down your thighs. you had glossy slick racing down and he takes the opportunity to lap it right up with his tongue. “only sound i wanna hear is this pretty pussy talkin’ back to me. let’s hear what she’s got ‘ta say.”

the sounds of your own cunt was so lewd. it’s crying squelching rings and reverberates off the walls.

abruptly, you grow quiet and he hums, slowly dragging out his two long fingers before you gush out straight away.

your eyes were as wide as saucers, electric shocking currents travel through every part of your body as you come undone on his tongue. as you whine into your palm, your eyebrows come together into a furrow.

“mph,” you whimper, feeling your thighs shake. it’s so much that within seconds, you feel yourself spraying against his tongue until you couldn’t anymore. it felt like your life flashed before your eyes. the tenderness of it all was almost too much to bare. as you’re still violently shaking on his pink twitching muscle, gojo spreads your ass apart, growing drunk at your taste before he chuckles against your clit - teeth nibbling against your sensitive, puffed folds.

“my baby’s velocity just gets better ‘n better,” he snickers, giving your right ass cheek a frisky kiss.

as he stands up again, he faces you — watching as your eyes were all droopy ‘n hooded.

“c’mere,” and you felt your cunt throb as you fall into his touch, pressing your lips right back against him. right away, your tongue gets met with the taste of yourself on him. you tasted sweet, he’s always described you as sweet anyway. gojo groans, lifting up your thigh before making you lie back. “good girl. ‘s just you ‘n me. let me spoil you today, princess.”

glancing down, you spot his slacks that were just barely hanging on. they were half on, dark blue boxers clinging onto his perfectly sculptured waistline. you spot a bit of a peeking white happy trail that’s curly — sticking against his skin.

“s- satoru,” you pant, pawing your hands at his already open fly. he ogles at you, popping the two wet fingers that were stuffed into your cunt literally just a few seconds ago right into his mouth. you watch, growing more aroused as he sucks on his digits right in front of you.

“satoru what, baby?” he leans down, springing out his cock. it was quick, he fishes through his boxers before whipping it out, wrapping a single bare hand around his fat length. giving it a few pumps, a thumb of his swipes against his pulsing vein and he groans. with a snarl, he bites into your neck. “you don’t wanna wait ‘till we get home, huh?”

“no,” you whimper, and he lets you take control a bit.

with shaky hands, you make him sit flat against his back, a cute shove goes against his chest and he huffs. “want you, ‘toru,” and he smiles at how out of breath you were, still trying to overcome your more recent, nirvana filled high. as you get on his lap, straddling him, you lean right up to the older man’s face. “please.”

he returns your lust-filled gaze, a hand of his creeping toward the curvature of your ass. “such a sweet girl. with manners like that, i could never say no,” he coos to you, helping you align your entrance against his reddened tip. with your panties still on, string passively pulled toward the crevices of your thighs, you whine. “there’s that sweet ‘lil moan,” he brings you closer toward his neck. the veins that ran down his cock pulse even quicker. “mhm, c’mon sweets,” he playfully pulls your hands away from your face. “i wanna see those eyes roll back. don’t be shy, ride me girl.”

and as he’s careful to sink you down on his cock, your legs wrap around his slim waist like a vice.

a hand of yours tugs onto his tie, giving it a little forceful pull. gojo’s hair was all ruffled — white strands everywhere, you had him a mess and right where you wanted.

whenever you straddled him like this, you always took his breath away and that hungry gaze you always give him, fuck you were dangerous.

intaking a sharp, deep breath, he’s halfway in now. gojo’s so thick and bulky that it feels like he’s fully in.

balls fucking deep,

a whimper pulls out of your vocal cords as his tip kisses your sweet swollen insides. his own eyelashes were half-lidded and he’s panting right with you, frigid cold band of his watch rubbing off against your skin. the saturated squelches of your pussy were so loud, he holds onto your hips before a pussy drink grin tugs against both corners of his lips. “attaaaa girl. move those hips, ride me good, birthday girl.”

the friction was so delicious, so appetizing..

you were barely moving but you felt like you were gonna screw up and cream all down his shaft. with your face still burying itself into the crook of his neck, your hips finally start to adapt to some sort of steady rhythm. gojo huskily grunts, feeling the welcoming grip your cunt gifts him every time he goes inside. the elastic stretch always makes him short circuit. as his blushing tip thrashes its way inside, your hips roll and it’s only then that you start to sloppily lurch against his lap.

“t- toruuu,” you sob out in a sweet broken syllable, your own words sticking against your tongue. strong, built arms hold you upright as you’re making steady haste. the music of the store seems to get louder and you don’t even care if you get caught anymore.

with the way his cockhead’s smooching up against your sweet spot, you’re already dumb, stupid ‘n hungry for more of your beloved sugar daddy. your whines always ghost right up against his earlobe, falling on deaf ears every time. your sweet, carnal sounds makes his dick twitch. the electric pulse surges through your cunt and you feel it — shivering, glancing at him and he shoots you a flashy, sheepish grin. “yeah, ‘s okay baby. doin’ so good for me.”

even still, you’re adjusting to his size. the big stretch has your lips parted and circular, moans spilling out of your lips again and again until you were a broken record.

every single time, gojo’s cock extends inside of you through and through. it’s like it comes natural to him. no matter how many times he’d please you, you’d always end up getting a bit more stretched out than the last time.

a constant lewd loop,

“s— satoru,” you start to whine again, swiveling your hips against him. he’s seated down on the bench, taking in your body and the way your breasts bounce. he can’t help but snatch a feel, bringing a hand toward your left mound, squeezing two fingers against your nipples. with your frilly blouse still on, he’s just tugging against fabric but you start feel the familiar incoming shockwaves of pleasure. you let off a tiny squeal, head tossing back and your teeth digging into your bottom lip. “ngh, ‘toru. ‘m sensitive.”

“baby you’re always sensitive,” he teases.

lowering his head down between your neglected tits, gojo pulls up your blouse and leisurely slides his tongue down the sheeny crack of your chest. you’ve got a bit of a glow, probably from your recent teeth shattering orgasm. “mhm, look at my girls. they get prettier every time i see ‘em,” and as you’re still swaying your hips against him, he pops out one of your tits from your bra, sucking against the tender skin. you whimper over and over, he can barely get a good solid suck from the constant movement of your hips. you’re jittery, repeatedly moving back and forth against him, about to erupt as if your cunt was a volcano. “thaaat’s my girl, always taste so sweet.”

you ruffle his hair a bit as he’s latching his mouth against one of your sore nipples. the mobility of your hips so sloppy and unstable. he tends to each nipple, latching his wet lips against the sore mounds before slobbering all over it. as you’re grinding against him in an alluring manner, your eyes start to roll back. “toru, ngh. ‘s fuckin’ big,” you squeak out in a tiny mewl, your voice entirely small.

you’re moving so much that he could barely keep up, burying his face into your chest. his hot breath tickles against your skin — it’s feverish, sending a multitude of shivers to race down your spine.

he grunts in annoyance at your bra in the way, snatching it down to properly attach his plump lips against your neglected nipples. gojo sucked until they were all sore ‘n swollen, madly pulsating from the salacious stimulation. he eyes you with a teasing simper, a crinkle informing underneath his eye as he licks up his saliva dripping down the bare valley of your chest.

“y’r always a perfect fit though,” he whispers, another groan leaving out of his throat. as he’s leaning back again, allowing you to continue riding him, you’re just completely dumbfounded.

irises were dilated, lungs were full, toes curled.

you moan once he spanks your ass at the feeling of your hips slowing down, his way of encouraging you to keep at it. with your frilly blouse pulled up, he gawks at your body and admires how you match his crazed tempo, rolling and mirroring the same amounts of rickety.

“my fuckin’ girl,” he grunts, a hand sliding down your ass again, spanking it again. “uh huuuh,” his tongue slides against his lips, averting his gaze at your seductive looking hips. “just like that, sweetheart. niiiice ‘n slow, ‘toru’s not going anywhere.”

as you’re jerking forward against him, constantly bouncing against his thickset, bulky base — your jaw hangs wide open. he’s reached your sweet spot, it’s out of nowhere and you feel a bundle of nerves scream all through out you. your limbs were getting weary, and as your arms wrap around his shoulders, you nibble on his chin. “satoru, satoru, f— fuuuuck.”

he chuckles, watching as both of your eyes close tight, feeling one of your hands slither its way inside of his dress shirt. “hm,” he looks down, and your fingertips feel against his chiseled washboard abs. your pace was relentless, and with the feeling of just how ripped he was, you felt that same twitch arise in your cunt again. “fuck yeah, baby. touch me anywhere you like. this body ‘s all yours,” and you moan from his provocative words, still moving back and forth. gojo’s scent made itself well known throughout the entire dressing room. his abs instinctively clench from your gentle yet tender touch. “make me feel so good.”

“i- i do?” you moan, his words alone sending you a plethora of spine-chilling chills everywhere. they linger for a long time before you feel yourself starting to tighten. you were hungry for his approval, his praise — anything.

“yes, sweetheart,” he grunts, cupping your face as your hips continue to rock against him. he was reaching his inevitable limit and so were you, gojo’s face turns flustered and his pretty blue eyes flicker backward for a moment. that action alone was sexy, only you made him like this. “you like hearin’ what you do to me, huh?”

his voice was always so low — deep ‘n pitchy, it had the right amount of rasp hiding underneath it.

the timbre, it was a huskiness that always got you soaked. gojo moved his hands back down toward your waist, helping you keep up your frantic rhythm. every few seconds, you felt his throbbing dick plunge in and out of your drooling cunt. it’s so thorough, and every once and a while, it slips out. “fuuuck,” he groans, lifting you up before aligning himself back in. “got me workin’ over time, baby. stay still, yeah.”

your sweet nub was constantly being kissed up against, and you’re already so so stupid.

metaphoric heart eyes form through your pupils as you twitched ‘n fluttered on his cock. the moment you came again, and again, and again, there was barely a thought in your mind. you were always left being a puddled mess, swollen walls perfectly ravaged and stretched out.

it’s probably been about a good hour or two.

the dressing room had a sweet smell of tangy sweat and cologne—you whimper, babbling repeatedly as you’re now bent back over again.

but this time, gojo’s fucking you from behind.

he’s probably had you do various positions, and he was just about to finish again, anticipating to see another load pour right into your puffy pussy.

“s- shit,” he swallows a lump residing in his throat, catching your secretive hand trying to reach down and touch yourself. “princess..”

you pause, your hand staying still and he chuckles — pressing right up against your ass. he’s still pumping you full mid-thrust, a free hand wrapping its way around the back of your throat. his tone sounded like you’d just been caught redhanded. “aw, someone’s eager. but you always ask before touchin’ this sloppy pussy, right?”

with your breath hitching, he’s continuing to reel you back into his sharp hips within each piston of a thrust. with your mouth opened wide, you moan. “y- yes,” and as he’s jutting his cock into your gripping walls, you whimper out a sweet question of want. “can i touch myself, ‘toru?”

“let me think, baby.”

and you whine, a pouty expression marinating against your features as he’s got you pressed up against the mirror once more. gojo chuckles, clammy hands squeezing against your ass. “oh, you big baby. ‘m joking, go ‘head princess.”

as your fingers skid down your sopping pussy, it’s immediately coated with your slick. you whine, feeling his pace go faster before he groans. after a while, he’s just about there. gojo’s eyes remain fixated on your pretty rear — skin against skin clashing onto each other in such sync ‘n harmony.

his orgasm hits him like a truck. as a pretty translucent ring forms around his heavy cock, lust foils at his brain. “hah, fuck, pretty. such a mess, arch more for me, good girl. good fuckin’ girl.”

with the way he’s praising you continuously, you felt the constant twitches of your pussy cling onto his length. as your limbs were shaky ‘n on their final concluding hinges, you grow quiet at the feeling of him dumping in yet another sweet sticky load of cum. in the process — he coats the fabric of your panties with his mess, luxuriating in how sloppy you looked.

everything feels so slow - it’s probably been hours.

the current song that’s playing on the speakers, you’ve heard that same chorus for at least three times now.

it’s so warm inside, the flushed left temple of your cheek sticks against the mirror as you’re pressed right up against it. “f- fuck.” you wheeze out, allowing him to pump you full of creamy, velvety loads. he groans, throwing his head back and letting off a deep exhale. pretty lashes of his flutter shut as he’s staring openly at the way your cunt swallows its favorite bittersweet meal. with his mushroom tip still thrashing against the bulb of your sensitive clit, he gradually pulls out.

gojo’s eyes remain at your backside — gazing at the way he’s overflowed you with ropes ‘n ropes of hot wads of cum.

he licks his lips, staring in awe at how it dribbles down your thighs so effortlessly. it’s so messy,

a thumb of his swipes down the inner crevices of your thighs, getting a taste of it himself. “such a pretty girl,” he huffs, bringing the same thumb up to his lips to get a good enough taste. with the honeyed concoction of both flavors, he hums in contentment. “awww,” he stands up, taking in your dumbed down state. you were still panting, cum dripping out of your swollen hole.

you’ve still got a brief portion of your fist in your mouth - trying to suppress your sweet noises, split knuckles tickling against your tongue. “cute. c’mere, princess.”

you shudder, feeling him reposition your panties whilst pulling up your frilled skirt. with a teasing smile, he kisses your forehead, giving the fat of your ass one more squeeze. “you did so good,” and once he’s making sure you’re okay, with glossed eyes—you leer as he drags his slacks back up, zipping up his fly. as you gawk, gojo looks so handsome. ruffled white strands all over the place and his once professional dress shirt was now all unbuttoned ‘n scruffy. “hm,” he catches you staring, and he strokes the bottom of your chin. “you look hungry for more,” and his voice gets a bit low, he pressed a soft kiss against your lips, watching as you pout once he devastatingly pulls away. “happy birthday baby.”

“t- thank you, ‘toru,” you speak, trying to catch your breath. abruptly, you’re suddenly being lifted up by him, bridal style. a gasp wrenches out of you before you involuntary hurl your feeble, numb arms over his tense shoulders. he smells so good, you sink your face into the collar of his tux, feeling his body rumble from a chuckle.

“welcome,” and he unlocks the dressing room, walking out with you in nowhere but his warms. glancing at you, he whispers in a sweet low tone. “let’s get you outta here, hm? a nice warm bath ‘s waitin’ for ya at home. don’t want my baby’s limbs to be all sore.”

and as gojo’s carrying you and your bags with one arm supporting underneath you—he continues to make his way toward the front of the store.

he’s met with a few eyes yet he could care less. all he cared about was you, his pretty princess.

you shift a bit in his arms, still feeling creamy remnants of his cum plug you full even while being protected by your panties and skirt. it sticks against the fabric and you couldn’t help but grow flustered, feeling your thighs glue ‘n stick together. as he’s just about to leave out the door, he’s interrupted by the loud sound of a beep.

it’s the anti-theft security alarm, and gojo groans once he’s stopped by one of the employees.

“sir, i think you forgot to pay.”

“oh right,” the white haired man rubs the back of his neck, gently placing you back down on your feet. you glance up at him and your forehead’s met with another one of his tender, sweet kisses. “stay put, baby.”

you nod, watching as his back turns. he trods toward the cashier, whipping out his black card that he had you use for the majority of the day. as he’s paying for your items, he apologizes for the inconvenience with the most faux unknowing expression. gojo leaves a big tip in advance before making his way back toward you.

his staggering height stands tall and he slings an arm over your shoulder. he grabs your bags, having you lean against him as you both finally make your way out of the store.

“c’mon, darlin,” gojo mutters in a low tone, guiding you out of the mall. he’s still holding you close, but he stops briefly to plant a kiss near the inside of your neck. “still not done makin’ a mess out of my messy baby girl.”

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shalotttower · 1 year ago

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Fragile Things

Title: Fragile Things Fandom: Hunter x Hunter Summary: Sometimes Chrollo really wishes you were more demanding of him. Word count: 600+ Characters: Chrollo x Reader (female) Notes: yandere Chrollo, kidnapped reader, implied murder (not reader).

Sometimes Chrollo really wishes you were more demanding of him. You are polite and soft-spoken, never rude, never angry even when he deserves your anger, and always so very cautious, as if tiptoeing around an alligator pit. It doesn’t take a genius to deduce that you are afraid of him. A scaredy little thing. Yet you don’t beg or plead for him to release you. Perhaps you already understand the futility of it, or maybe you're simply wary to do so.

The first time he brings you a gift – an elegant chainlet studded with pink sapphires – you stare at him with something akin to terror. Your hands shake when you reach out and accept the velvet box he places onto your lap.

Chrollo wonders what would you do if he told you how he got it. No, better you don't know. You already shrink and jump every time he moves too fast, no need to add fuel to the fire.

"Thank you," you murmur, just a tiny bit hesitant before setting the box aside.

You wear it for a theatre outing when he asks you to, but apart from that Chrollo doesn't see you touch it again.

It would be easier, if you demanded something from him - clothes, books, movies, food. Anything. You don't. Apart from absolutely necessary things like the skincare products you use or feminine hygiene items you ask him to pick up once a month, you never mention anything else. It bothers him more than it should, this docile acceptance of yours. Makes him want to make you beg and cry and demand.

But you're fragile. He can't push fragile things too hard or they tend to shatter like intricate glass figurines. You can put them back together with a proper amount of glue, but the cracks don't go anywhere.

"Dear," Chrollo touches your cheek and waits until you look up from the book he brought you last week. You glanced at it in the shop, but didn't ask, despite the obvious interest. So he bought it. "Would you like something special for dinner?"

Your eyebrows furrow. "Special... Special like what?"

Ah, that sweet caution. Chrollo finds it endearing somehow, just as much as it's annoying. "Anything you'd like."

Your hands fidget on the pages, bending the corners before you seem to catch yourself doing it. Hastily you straighten the paper, and Chrollo really wants to take your hands into his and kiss each knuckle to soothe them. Maybe he will, later. But first - "Name anything and I'll cook it for you."

A moment passes. And then another. When he almost expects you to tell him that you'll have whatever he chooses - again - you speak.

"Can you bake an apple pie?"

A pie. A pie is not exactly dinner, it's a dessert, but he's wiling to indulge this small request. Still some proper nourishment is needed too.

"And for dinner?" He asks and then takes one of your hands in his after all. It's warm and soft, trembling when he brings it to his lips.

"Butter chicken and rice," you fidget, discreetly trying to tug your hand away and he almost snorts at this. Chrollo doesn't loosen a firm hold of your wrist until each finger is properly kissed. Only then he lets go.

You're looking anywhere but him, cheeks slightly pink and eyes jumping from one point to another - from the floor to the sofa to the window, back to the floor.

"Very well," Chrollo rises from the couch and heads towards the kitchen area. He feels oddly pleased, as if a fresh batch of spoils was just delivered to his doorstep.

Fragile things can bring much joy, it seems, despite their propensity to break.

#hunter x hunter fanfic #hunter x hunter #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #yandere #chrollo lucifer x reader #shalott fanfiction

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eddiesxangel · 1 year ago

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Kiss Me Underneath the Mistletoe | Mechanic!EddieMunson x Friend!Reader

Cw: Eddie and you share your first kiss. Fluffy goodness. Implied smut (Mentions of a car accident but no injuries) Eddie and the reader are both in their 20’s. Use of nicknames for reader. GN Reader :)

WC: 1.5k

The party was in full swing when you pulled up to Steve’s driveway. Eddie offered to pick you up because your car was still at his shop. Your card had gone into a tailspin on some black ice and got stuck in a ditch a few days ago. You were okay; only some minor damage to the bumper had to be fixed. Thank god you had your mechanic friend's phone number memorized.

“There you are!” Steve sounded exasperated. There were about fifteen cars parked outside his house, and music and laughter filled the home. It was warm and comforting, but Stevie looked stressed.

You really had only been half an hour late. You had to rush home from work with no car, so you had to take the bus, which took ten times slower. Only to get ready, and then you and Eddie had to rush to the bakery before they closed for the evening to pick up the Christmas cookies you promised to bring tonight.

“Sorry Stevie, I had to pick up the goods.” you wiggle the box of Christmas cookies you had picked up. And Eddie wiggled the bottle of bourbon in his hands to show you brought gifts.

“Yes!” Dustin said as he zoomed past you, swiping the sugary treats out of your hands.

“Hey!” You placed your hands on your hips.

“Sorry! But can’t wait any longer! You’re late enough; we only get these once a year.” Dustin was not sorry.

“Whatever, just save me at least one” you giggle.

“I’ll sneak you some, don’t worry,” Eddie whispered in your ear as a fantasy of his lips touching your neck comes to the forefront of your mind. Your body shivered from the proximity, and only Eddie noticed. He knew he got you. You would be his tonight whether you knew it or not.

The night continued without a hitch; dinner was excellent, and there were games, music, and many more drinks afterwards.

There were a lot of people here you didn’t recognize. Mostly Steve’s coworkers from the office. You had gotten separated from the group when a few of them cornered you with the most god-awful conversation about trades and charts and who knows what.

You finally spot someone out of your group, thankfully Eddie, who can read your face better than anyone. You made the save me eyes, and he beelined to your rescue.

“Hey, there you are! I need your help in the basement. Steve needs us to bring up more booze.” he rests a hand on the small of your back.

You quickly and politely excuse yourself from the conversation, and as soon as the basement door closes, you let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god! I don’t think I could stand another moment; I don’t know how Steve does it!”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll always be here to save you,” Eddie smirks, his big hand still on your lower back, guiding you toward the cold cellar.

“Oh, we are actually getting drinks?” You question.

“Yea, babe, what did you think we would be doing down here?” he playfully wiggled his eyebrows before passing you a smaller case of beer while he took on the heavy load. You were a little disappointed; you thought you might get some alone time with Eddie before returning to the party.

You make your way back up to the sounds of cheering and laughing, unsure what’s going on. You both make it into the kitchen, restocking the cooler and fridge, oblivious to the crowd following Steve, who came running in, waving around some green and red plant while simultaneously spilling his red cocktail on the floor.

“Kiss!” Steve pops up behind you and Eddie, startling you both.

“What the fuck, man”—“You scared me!” You both say simultaneously.

“Too bad, you gotta kiss,” he says, wiggling mistletoe above your heads. You scan the group behind Steve; all your friends stare at you like zoo animals.

“Wha-” “Come on-“ you and Eddie were cut off.

“My party, my rules, you’re standing under the mistletoe. You gotta kiss,” he smirks like he knows what he is doing. It wasn't a secret to your friends you had a crush on Eddie.

“Steven!” You scold. Did you want to kiss Eddie? Yes. Did you want to do it forced in front of all your friends?! No.

As you stood your ground, it became more apparent that Steve wasn’t leaving until Eddie planted one on you.

You look to Eddie to gauge his feelings, but his poker face is not helping.

"You really don't want to kiss me that bad, sweetheart?" he raises a brow to you. Maybe he had read your situation wrong.

"What? No. Yes. No! I just want-" You were cut off because you heard your friends begin to chant behind Steve’s stupid, smug face.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!”

“Fine!” You succumbed to the peer pressure. You turn and grab Eddie’s head in both hands, pull him down, and plant one on him.

If you were paying attention, you would have heard the cheers from your friends. A minute later, you would have heard the gags and them scurrying away when Eddie stuck his tongue in your mouth. You would have heard Steve mumble “atta’boy” before leaving you two alone, but you didn’t hear anything other than your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

All of your senses were consumed by Eddie. His mouth was soft and gentle like he didn’t want to break you. He tasted like cranberries and bourbon. His tongue broke through, and you let out the slightest whimper as your hands moved from his cheeks to his waist…. His tight little waist that you have been drooling over since you saw him in that tight black tank top with his coveralls hanging off his waist, sweat dripping down his chest and grease-stained skin. When you walked into his work for the first time all those months ago. He was pure sex appeal that day, and you hadn’t seen him the same way since.

Eddie’s hands crept up from the waistband of your pants, slipped up under your shirt and grazed the soft skin of your back. Goosebumps spread throughout your whole body as Eddie continued to pull you closer to him.

You could have been there for a minute or an hour, you didn’t know, but the moment finally broke when Dustin walked back into the kitchen for those special cookies you’d brought.

“Oh my god! Get a room” he rolled his eyes, and the two of you broke apart, not realizing you were sucking face and feeling one another up in the middle of Steve’s kitchen like you were two teenagers.

A rush of blood spread across Eddie’s face. His lips were just as red as his cheeks. Your face was also just as hot. You could feel the rush of blood travel up your chest to your throat and across your cheeks as you took in what had just happened.

An uncomfortable giggle left your lips, and Eddie swore he heard angels singing. A smile broke on his face, and you felt at ease.

“You wanna get out of here?” Eddie reaches out a hand. You grab it while frivolously nodding your head. Eddie pulls you through the crowded house, trying to slip past everyone.

“Get it, Eddie!” “That’s my boy!” “Finally!” “About damn time!”

All your friends shout, and you hide your face in Eddie’s chest while he pulls your coat out from the closet.

Eddie giggles as Steve approaches the both of you, blocking the door.

“So when’s the wedding? Do I get credit? Or does Eddie? 'cuz he asked me to set up this elaborate ruse?” he wiggled his eyebrows at the two of you.

“What?” You looked at Eddie, and he chuckled uncontrollably.

“I’m going to have to cut you off, man. No more Christmas cocktails for you.” he swiped the crystal glass from Steve’s hands and chugged the rest.

“Hey!” Steve drunkenly protested.

“What’s he talking about Ed’s?” You giggle.

“Ol’Eddie here asked me to help divide a plaaaaan to get yo-” Eddie cupped a hand over Steve’s mouth and smiled at you with the biggest grin that said he was guilty.

“Real smooth, Munson,” you playfully roll your eyes.

“It worked, didn’t it?” He stepped closer and lifted your chin up to him. He was so cocky, but it made your stomach do a summersault at his touch.

“Ok, turtle doves, get out of here already and make a little drummer boy,” Steve winked.

“Ew, you're gross Steve! Ed’s right, no more cocktails for you.” Robin grabbed Steve by the arm and whisked him away while you and Eddie giggled out the door.

“So you’ve been wanting to kiss me?” You bite your lip as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Yeah,” he sighed as he pushed up against the car while looking into your eyes.

“You know you didn’t need to drag Steve into it” you giggle.

“Well, where’s the fun in that baby?” He whispered before leaning in to kiss you again. Your body felt it was on fire even though it was below freezing outside. You didn’t care. Eddie’s warmth was enough, and his warmth was indeed the thing that kept you warm for the rest of that night.

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson imagine #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #Eddie Munson x friend reader #mechanic!eddie munson #mechanic!eddie x reader #older!eddie x reader #older!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x male reader

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jishyucks · 1 year ago

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True Love Gave to Me Masterlist

— A Holiday Series of Short Oneshots

Ah~ the holiday season—a season of giving, of joy and laughter, of overflowing love… Why not spread this festive warmth with 12 short stories set during this time of year?

‣ featuring: hyung line of nct dream x reader, 00line of stray kids x reader, & 02z of enhypen x reader

‣ genre: all very fluffy! and holiday-themed (some are cliche but who hates cliches), specifics and warnings will be listed under each fic!

one.

‣ pairing: mark lee x reader ‣ genre: fluff, implied friends-to-lovers, classmates au

Sure, it was disheartening seeing everyone receive a holiday candy gram but you, especially when you’re the one in charge of selling them at lunch. But don't worry, yours is on the way. He’s just… running a bit late.

Received!

two.

‣ pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader ‣ genre: fluff, implied friends-to-lovers, rich-kid!au

You’ve quickly established that no one at this damn charity gala cares about the event’s purpose. They were just there to party. And you wanted nothing else but to leave; alternatively, in which Hyunjin saves you from your misery to see the city’s Christmas lights.

Received!

three.

‣ pairing: park jay x reader ‣ genre: fluff, coworkers-to-something more?, subtly hurt/comfort

Your ability to empathize was a blessing and curse. When you see your boss sitting alone in his office on Christmas Day, you can’t help but invite him to your family party. And when he actually says yes, you’re kind of stuck regretting the offer simply because you’re not sure how this is going to turn out.

Received!

four.

‣ pairing: huang renjun x reader ‣ genre: fluff, academic rivals to (implied) lovers, forced proximity

You don’t hate many things, but you could proudly say that you hate snow and Huang Renjun. And now that the universe has decided that it was a great idea to have you snowed in with the smartass himself, you’ll gladly add the universe to that list.

Received!

five.

‣ pairing: han jisung x reader ‣ genre: fluff, implied f2l/coworkers-to-lovers

In all honesty, you had no idea why you decided to take up the job of gift wrapping at your local mall. There are moms constantly yelling at you, your fingers are covered in papercuts, and the hours are long. Luckily, your coworker, Jisung, is there to make it more bearable.

Received!

six.

‣ pairing: jake sim x reader ‣ genre: fluff, meet-cute, implied strangers to something more

After months of being apart from your family, you finally get to fly back home for the holidays. On the flight there, you’re placed next to a cute stranger who has taken it upon himself to talk to you. What happens when the roads from the airport are closed overnight and you’re stuck with said stranger? You’re just hoping he doesn’t have any plans of kidnapping you.

Received!

seven.

‣ pairing: lee jeno x reader ‣ genre: fluff, implied f2l/coworkers-to-lovers, secret admirer au, office!au

When gifts start appearing on your work desk on December 1st, you have no choice but to hunt down the man who’s been planting them. And with only 7 men on the floor, this shouldn’t be difficult… Right?

Received!

eight.

‣ pairing: felix lee x reader ‣ genre: fluff, implied f2l, hurt/comfort

Spending Christmas sick and in bed wasn’t Felix’s ideal way of spending the holiday. Being the best friend that you are, you decide to take care of him. Who would have thought that Felix was clingy when he had the flu?

Received!

nine.

‣ pairing: park sunghoon x reader ‣ genre: fluff, friends-to-lovers

After weeks of stalling, you finally let Sunghoon take you skating—and with how close you two are, you hope he mistakes the beating of your heart for the beat of the music.

Received!

ten.

‣ pairing: lee donghyuck x reader ‣ genre: fluff, established relationship

They weren’t lying when they said that the holiday season was the busiest time of year. With finals rolling around, gift shopping for your family, and keeping yourself in check, you barely have time to give your boyfriend the attention he wants. Donghyuck, however, has a way to work around this; alternatively, in which Donghyuck just wants one kiss and you think it’ll be funny not to give it to him

Received!

eleven.

‣ pairing: kim seungmin x reader ‣ genre: fluff, frenemies to lovers

After cursing the city and their poor excuse of cleaning the streets, you eventually swallow your pride and call your friends to help you free your car from the snow. And out of all the people that could have come, it really had to be Seungmin…

Received!

twelve.

‣ pairing: na jaemin x reader ‣ genre: fluff, f2l/co'workers'-to-lovers

You have two weaknesses—Gojo and men with kids… and you guess, Jaemin. That would make it three, but he falls under that second category; alternatively, in which you weren’t really planning on developing feelings for Na Jaemin but seeing him work with kids all the time at the local community centre is making it damn hard not to.

Received!

‣ an: another episode of me being ambitious cause I have so many other WIPS, so we'll see if I'll manage to do these on time (if not, Christmas lasts until Jan 6,,, soo) but don't worry I am motivated to actually complete this!—anyways, I love Christmas and the holiday season so much that I had to do this,,, and I didn’t rly do anything for when I reached 1k so why not? I'm aware it's 'true love sent to me' but this fits the theme more,,, PLEASE ENJOY AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!—things might change as I go!

!! if anyone is interested in joining a tag list, please let me know! just indicate if you'd like to be tagged on all of them or certain groups/members!

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drgenius-reid · 1 year ago

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Bathtime Bliss

A/N: This is my first piece for Spencer and I absolutely just took it from one of my previous fics for a different person but I think it's cute and I love it so I edited it, lol. I hope you all like it, L x Summary: You share a bath with your husband on vacation Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warnings: (18+ Minors DNI) Implied smut, sharing a bath with a partner, innocent kisses Word Count: 750

Every candle that you could find in the cabin surrounded the bath. You’d balanced them wherever you could– on the sink, on the ledge that sat behind the bath taps, on the windowsill, and the floor in safe spaces. Despite the bitter cold of the outside air that had started to seep through the cracks in the window frame, the bathroom was warm with steam rising from the surface of the water that you were submerged in.

You were at one end of the bath with your legs resting against Spencer’s thighs, watching him with a playful smile that he mirrored. Getting him to agree to sharing a bath had been a struggle. He’d spent almost an hour telling you about the germs that are spread through bodies of water and how it could get uncomfortable.

But with every argument Spencer made, you had a counter argument. After what felt like an eternity, he agreed to take a bath with you and after you squealed in excitement and showered him with kisses, you ran through to the bathroom and started to run the hot water.

Spencer’s hands reached forward just enough that he could run his fingers over the skin of your calves under the water. Your lungs filled with air and you let your eyes flutter closed slightly. It was the first time in a while that you felt truly content. It seemed like there was no break in cases and you struggled to find the time to take a break and enjoy your husband.

‘Do you think we should maybe do something tomorrow?’ Spencer asked. ‘We’ve been here for two days and we haven’t left the cabin once.’

Taking a sip of wine and allowing the liquid to burn your throat slightly, you blinked at him. ‘Why would we leave the cabin and go out into the cold, wet snow when we have such a soft, warm bed here?’ You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and let it go sensually. ‘And we have been doing things. Lots of things. Fun things.’

Spencer shook his head at you playfully before splashing a little bit of water over you as his smile grew. When his hand moved back to your leg, he squeezed it before shifting his body in the water to get comfortable again. The water flowed around you, rippling around your body and heating up the areas of skin that hadn’t been submerged in a while.

The bubbles that hadn’t popped while you’d spent over an hour in the bath were lapping at your skin. They tickled slightly and you couldn’t help but want to grab a handful and blow them over Spencer.

‘Don’t get me wrong, I’ve enjoyed every minute of the things that we’ve been getting up to here,’ he whispered as he used his strength to push himself forward to be closer to you, ‘but we came here to enjoy the town. There are cute cafés and stores for us to go to. And there are bookshops too.’

‘Oh well if there are cafés,’ you chuckled. Spencer hooked your legs around his waist and pulled you into his lap as he ran his hands over the expanse of your back. ‘Breakfast out does sound nice,’ you mused as Spencer’s hands roamed your back delicately.

‘So tomorrow when we wake up we will put on every single layer of clothing that we can and we’ll go for breakfast. After breakfast I was thinking we could walk around and do some shopping. I promised Garcia that I would take her a gift home.’

‘You promised her? I promised her too,’ you laughed. ‘I guess she’s getting two gifts.’

Spencer shook his head and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips. You sighed into it and held his cheeks softly to keep him where you wanted him.

‘There’s an English style pub in town too that we could go to for lunch. And then when we’re back here, we camp in front of the fire to prevent getting sick.’

Spencer’s nose scrunched at the thought of being sick and you chuckled gently, kissing him once more. ‘That sounds like a good day to me, Dr Reid.’

‘I love you,’ he whispered against your lips, ‘and as much as this bath is very romantic and I love just being here with you and being selfish with your time…I-’

‘Me too,’ you laugh, kissing him again. ‘Come on, let’s get out and go to bed.’

‘Who said anything about the bed?’

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfics #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid writing #my writing #bathtime bliss

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hwaightme · 1 year ago

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Take me back

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR BIKER!HWA’S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist) (join taglist)

🏍️ pairing: biker!seonghwa x afab!gangster!reader 🏍️ genre: smut, pwp, exes to lovers, fluff, a little angst, romance, just two fools in love 🏍️ summary: you want to convince yourself that you do not need seonghwa, that your rejection is for the best, but when instead of another rose he is the one waiting by your door, you are not so sure. 🏍️ wordcount: 6.9k 🏍️ warnings/tags: biker!hwa, quick solo edit, language, hwa has grills, head over heels enamoured hwa, mention of contraband/dealing of illegal substances, rejection, knight on a bike courting you, discussion of gang activity, set in strictland, lmk if anything else 🏍️ a/n: why hello there <3 i am trying to get back into writing, and seonghwa + the song 'take me back'… transformed me. always, any notes, reblogs and comments are appreciated, much love~

🏍️ perma-taglist: moved to the end of the post!

🏍️ nsfw tags: sub!hwa and soft dom!reader, no protection (wrap before you tap pls), oral (both giving and receiving), hints of scent kink but more for hwa's perfume, dirty talk, intense pet name content (baby, darling, sweetheart, love, pretty boy), praise both ways, riding/cowgirl, reader double orgasm, overstimulation, slight dumbification, creampie, implied cockwarming, cuddling and two people falling in love more and more with each passing second

It did not take much effort to figure out who left the solitary rose on the window sill, between floors three and five - an ironic nod to tradition despite the world moving in a four four time, right on the stairwell that led to your apartment. A white rose sculpted to an ideal by nature and by a cosmetic selection, cut away and left a stilled beauty in full bloom, honoured to wilt in your presence. Picking it up with two fingers, you admired the careful handiwork employed to remove the thorns, because heaven forbid you were to hurt yourself. A smirk pricked at the corner of your lips, but you dared not reveal it - the admirer could be waiting just for this, and you were not feeling particularly merciful tonight. Twisting the rose a couple of times, noting the lack of any tears, breakage in the petals or even as much as a hint of browning due to thoughtless damage, you turned your attention to the stark white sheet of paper, neatly folded in half so as to conceal the contents. Though, who else would dare touch any gifts that were obviously left for you? Certainly not those who knew you, or knew of the admirer who was waiting for a single sign that you would accept the offerings. Opening up the note, you found a new selection of confessions written in poetic lines, ink meticulous, a permanence introduced in a neat and familiar hand, every stroke a cry for you, over you, a projection across the city in an attempt to win your heart. Just like last time, except this time the theme was the moon instead of the sun. The stars, the ocean waters, the air embracing you. If one were to paint a portrait through the words etched onto the pages that you had become a secret collector of, you would become the universe. All-encompassing and all-consuming, having permeated into the heart, soul and mind and turning into reason and motivation, you were the eternal muse. Gaze slowly drifting from the page and onto the dim, dark street outside, you looked out at the corner of the street, right to where it faded into a miniature intersection, leading to a shopping district that was long abandoned and shut down aside from a few underground businesses and repurposed buildings that a regular passer-by would, or should never visit. You would never admit it, but you had grown to expect the silhouette that waited for you, maybe even welcome it. A singular constant in your daily life, one that you hated to admit, but had transformed into a grounding, a tether to something less than madness.

It was not comforting, however. Far from it. The man who was leaning against his motorcycle, side profile distinguishable against the faint lights emanating from the far backdrop was someone who had brought you emotion. And just as the government had prescribed in its comically persistent propaganda, disease was human emotion. Whether one served the nation or was working against it, whether one was a public figure for peace or a private figure for war, the state of feeling was oftentimes a disadvantage. It was, most certainly, the case in your line of work, despite you never directly subjecting yourself to risk - you were not that foolish quite yet. But the dedication of the man in black, blue and silver was forcing you to reconsider. Eroding the boundaries you operated within, knocking on the barriers to find a hollow which he could break. One of these days you knew that Seonghwa was going to be the death of you. Or perhaps the revival. Folding the note tightly shut you pressed it against the rose’s stem, and holding both items between your fingers you began your ascent to the door of your apartment, keys dangling from their ring that was in your other hand.

Soon enough, you heard the rumbling of the engine; that same motorcycle which you had come to see more often than the supplies you managed. As you slid the key into the door, you shut your eyes, imagining Seonghwa’s journey away from your complex. How his glasses, those you had joked about being from a laboratory, would glimmer under the jittery neon of old signs and the fading streetlights. How he would accelerate at the end of the road, making a sharp turn to the right. The grip you had on the note and the rose tightened as you recalled the exhilarating feeling of having your arms wrapped around his sensational waist, feeling the toned muscle underneath his black tank top, snaking your hands, letting them roam his body as he struggled to contain himself and keep on driving. You paid the risk no mind - if anything, this risk was the one you preferred so much more, over any other you had to keep subdued under a brutal thumb. Wondering why your mind was so afflicted this evening, you raised the rose again, detecting nothing suspicious. It was only once you raised the note as close to your face as possible that you rolled your eyes and let a sigh escape you. Of course, the perfume. That damn sweet perfume, with hints of coffee and vanilla, one only he could wear, one that you swore you would never be able to rid yourself off, even if you were to burn the house down and shed your own skin. The memory would remain and you knew that if anywhere, anyone, anyhow would let this perfume enter your system, only Seonghwa would be on your mind. Cursing under your breath, you finally unlocked the apartment and entered, washed over with a sense of dread due to your evident proximity to the handcrafted abyss. It was only a matter of time that this game would end.

Kicking your shoes off your feet and ambling to the living room, you approached the glass that you had positioned at the centre of the tiny dining table, taking out the rose you had previously received and replacing it with the new beauty. Mumbling a goodbye, simply to remind yourself of the fact that you could speak, more than anything, you let the flower disappear in the bin that was across the corridor, in the kitchen. You returned, regarding the white rose again, imprinting its every curve in your mind and hesitantly allowing yourself to compare the softness of the petals to your admirer’s lips, and moved to the cabinet off to the side. A contraband piece, unregulated, from someplace abroad that clearly had more daring, inspiring tastes than your home ever could, which was exactly why you had your loyal employees smuggle it along with the regular supplies to feed the insatiable demand of the sinful city that turned into bills for you. One door opened, another, a few numbers on a keypad pressed and you were in - one of the numerous safes hidden around the flat, the only ones that would stand the test of time, with this one containing the butterflies that plagued Seonghwa, those that he could not help but share with you, fighting pleas that you contained in steel. A cage for the emotions that the man stirred within you, your keeping of the notes supposedly out of sight and out of mind was the last resort for denial. You did not want to witness your demise, and yet, in the night when you were tossing and turning back and forth, illuminated by a hazy blue and grey, your retinas had every note burned into them and your brain would repeat every line back to you over, and over, and over again until you were lulled into a slumber, again, induced by the notion of the one man who you were trying your hardest to avoid. He was behind every corner, physical and spiritual.

He was in the way you cleared away the dishes after eating, the ghost of his torso pressed against your back as he would leave a peppering of kisses over your shoulder, in the crook of your neck and stopping right over the jugular, caressing the sensitive skin with his breath. Seonghwa was in the way you lied down to bed, always occupying the same side, gliding under the sheets that, even though you had washed them, softened them time and time again, you swore still held his echoes - how your body tried to reignite the reminiscence of how his arm would languidly find purchase on your hips or waist, how he would whisper sweet nothings into your ear, the shameless adoration tickling your cheek and colouring it in a faint blush. As you shut the safe with more aggression than anticipated, making the cabinet rattle from the impact, you shut your eyes, the sensation of the memory becoming too strong to handle. Seonghwa’s hands tracing abstract shapes on your stomach, sides, seemingly absent-mindedly trailing upwards to tease a timid gasp out of you, only to follow the curves and contours of your body down until he could have you in ultimate pleasure. And how, polite as ever, he would ask for it. Ask to touch you, beg for it unabashedly, recounting just how good he had been for you, how he would do anything for you, should you command him.

Seonghwa’s blind faith in you, his trust in harmony between outlaws and the timelessness of your union was the very reason you stepped away. With every fibre of what you had remaining of your tainted heart you wished for him to find someone better, someone safer, as far as possible from the rotten criminal hydra of which you were one of the many heads. Part of you always held onto the hope that he would leave the city for good. You knew there were better places out there where he could thrive not as a gang member or a fiend of the roads, but as an artist, a dreamer. You had heard enough stories of lands across the oceans where the sun smiled down on those who walked the grounds there, and how people had choice. Desperately, you wanted Seonghwa to make the right one and leave. But all your senses were far too close to overpowering your rationality that served as the single stop sign for the both of you. The one flicker that would set the gasoline ablaze, and leave you two to burn, unable to turn back. Without bothering to turn on any lights, you felt for your bedroom, stripping off the clothes that screamed both business and dealing, and collapsing onto the covers. Hands tracing the lace of your lingerie, you mused what the man of your dreams and nightmares was up to, across the district, under the same omniscient and omnipresent moon, perhaps thinking of you. His name rolled off your tongue far too easily, too comfortably for it to be forbidden. You knew exactly what would happen should he appear instead of another rose, and this awareness - you feared.

As soon as you stepped into the complex, met with the ancient and occasionally flickering bulb that hung right above the entryway, barely outside of the swinging reach of the rusted metal door, you felt the air had shifted while you were gone. The first sign, however, you had caught onto a lot earlier, during your brisk walk down the street, where you caught sight of a familiar motorcycle parked some ways off to the side, obscured by the smog-dulled trees and coughing shrubbery, and only just peeking out from behind a couple of dumpsters. You had to give it to Seonghwa, the place he chose to hide the vehicle was one of the best in the vicinity, but it was not a surprise - something told you that he had your part of the city mapped out and committed to memory, judging by how easily he navigated every corner, and knew exactly where and when you could catch sight of his presence. Slowly, you stepped towards the stairs, trying to steady your breath, failing to ignore the accelerating pace of your heart. The drumming overtook you, pushing away any sense of control and commitment to rejection, and it was as if you could feel every capillary, every artery and vein being set on fire, oxygen being reduced to nothing, lungs screaming and smoke filling your skull. Leaden legs lifting themselves one step, another until you covered the first flight, making a turn. Forgetting to count, you let your instincts guide you, and even though you knew that you were not going to find them, you were half hoping for another rose and note, a secure arrangement that meant you could fool yourself into not feeling as strongly as you, in reality, did. Suddenly, your suit was too tight over your body, the collar digging into your flesh, the sleeves constricting. You wanted to melt away, sink into the floor, turn into concrete, into the walls or the particles that drifted with the drafts before you were to come face to face with what you were so adamant on denying, with whom you were so adamant on denying. The sturdy soles of your dress shoes resounded on the hard stone stairs, marking your arrival. There was no going back, not now, not ever. As soon as the door to your part of the complex closed, so did the door to a destiny without the man who you could now spot on the next flight of stairs, sat outstretched on the cold angularity, elbows perched on one step higher than his body, impeccably balanced while his legs, bent slightly, were stationed on the flat turning. As you regarded his form through the dark grey, sparse railings, taking in the gravity of his unbelievable presence he did not spare you a single glance, instead choosing to remain downcast, peering off to the side, at the merging of the wall and stairs, or maybe he was caught up in his own thoughts, much like you had been a few too many days and nights.

It was only when you stopped right in front of him, stock still, crossing your arms - be it in defence or in threat, did he look up at you, shattering your heart into an innumerable torrential downpour of pieces. Eyes hidden behind those clear visor glasses were misty, hinting at unspilled melancholia, unexpressed need that only you could tear out of him, a living energy that had always been a sacrifice to your being. At your feet, much like how he was now, even though the pose which he had found himself in was nothing like what he had meant in the notes, in the actions, in the past. Seonghwa pushed himself off the stairs, sitting up straighter, head tilting upwards to not break eye contact. Almost as though if he were to look away, you would evaporate. The buttoned up silver collar of his jacket, concealing a few chains underneath, was gently applying pressure to his neck as he moved without daring to make any excessive movements, including adjusting his clothes. The man determined that he was toeing a far too dangerous line to try his luck with confidence.

After so long, after so many roses, after so many secrets that he had spilled in his poetry he could not continue any longer. Gone were the days when your mirage was enough, a hallucinatory visitation in the middle of his day never did satisfy him, but out of fear of disappointing you, he never went ahead with his urges and the cries of every nerve cell. Distance. A hint of your existence, a glimmer of the lights in your apartment, a dismissive picking up of his gifts from the window sill - those were his only joys as of late, but even that was no longer enough. He wanted you. He needed you. He needed you like a man needed air, needed earth, water, and fire. Seonghwa marked too many days on his calendar, drove too many miles without there being one last hope. So he gave into a risk, and bet his own life on it. As he allowed himself to drown in your ethereal glow, the beautiful, pleading man only just caught onto the words that sliced through the months of silence.

“No rose this time?”

Seonghwa let out a breath he did not know he was holding, and reached out for your legs, pulling you closer to him in a desperate call. Wrapping his strong arms around you, he pressed his forehead into your thighs, only a bite of the lip holding him back from breaking apart. He could not care less if you were going to scold him for crumpling your outfit, or for staining it with tears if they were to spill, for it was worth it. You were real. You were here. You were speaking to him and regarding him. Practically falling onto you and at your feet, Seonghwa wanted to be as close as possible, blend with and into you. Taken aback by the suddenness of the lurch towards you, you could only hold your hands up and let the proximity intoxicate you. Staring down at the top of his head, you had to give up your equilibrium to the man if you were to stay standing. Stay above him. And yet, a stray hand found itself floating through and towards the dark, slicked back locks that your palms remembered far too well. As you followed the lines of each strand, digits grazing the scalp, gently patting the impossibly soft and luscious hair, Seonghwa breathed raggedly beneath you, shaking ever so slightly. For how long had he been keeping it in, you wondered. For how long had he been carrying the weight of feeling with him without letting it escape into public exposure. Gently, you hooked the glasses upwards, letting them rest on the top of his head - a gesture that made him look up once more, hands still clenched around the material of your trousers. A flush of pink across his face, glistening eyes and the beginnings of a waterfall marking his relief threatening to trickle down his cheeks. You noted how his lips parted a couple of times, almost like he was in search to find the right words to say to you, maybe he had even already found them, but none made their way to your auditory, remaining a pantomime. Seonghwa was waiting for everything, and his everything was you.

“Oh come on, Hwa, why are you- up. Let’s get up, yeah?” you motioned with both hands for him to get up, and when he would not follow took a hold of his forearms, tugging until he submitted to the request, more moisture rushing to the surface as he was now right here, level with you on the same ground, in one another’s arms like before, with his nickname turning to the most magical melody when you uttered it, “Hwa, no, don’t cry, baby, I can’t stand to see you hurting.”

Thumbs running under his gorgeous eyes, over the stunning smooth skin and hands stopping to cup his face, you admired him with a full heart, letting go of prior inhibitions. There was no point in trying to ignore what had always been, what you would never be able to escape. You hated how you made him feel this pain. You knew you were the instigator, it was obvious to anyone how you were the one who did not want to follow through with hardships and looked for an easy way out, only finding dead ends and lies in the process. His aroma embraced you in a hypnotising cloud, the same one that never left you. The addictive sweetness that you wanted more, more of until there was nothing remaining. Leaning closer to Seonghwa, you took it in, faces a mere centimetre apart, suspense on a single breath.

“I’m sorry, I could not help it… I-”

“I should be the one who is sorry, baby, don’t say that,” he was too good for this world, you concluded yet again. The longer you knew Seonghwa, the more convinced you became that he was not meant for the city, nor for the life you or he led. You needed to work harder if that could mean buying your and his freedom out of this system.

“Sorry…” he mumbled again, unsteady, inching towards you until his nose brushed against yours. His gloved hands were securely under your suit jacket, toying with the fabric of your white shirt. You nudged him again, reassuring that he was doing everything right, that at least now, he was safe. With you, he was safe.

One of your hands etched the alluring edges of his jawline, travelling down his body and stopping at the jacket. Index finger under the collar, you tugged on the silver material, earning a deeper, expectant sigh from the man. As you snapped the button, pushing the outerwear apart to give you access to his accessories, you felt the metal - warm from the impossible heat oozing from Seonghwa, and slid your digits down the middle of the chest, stopping momentarily at the solar plexus, catching the erratic rhythm of his heart, so intense that you would not be shocked if it were to jump out at any second. You pulled at the black material of his tank top, forcing him to be up right against you, and to stop him from attempting to apologise any more, shifted attention to direct him by his chin. At your mercy, Seonghwa followed. Plush lips parted in anticipation, glossy orbs gaining a darker undertone in the palette contained within, he waited for your final say.

“Did you miss me?”

“Yes. Damn, yes. So much. Too much.” he whispered feverishly, fingers digging into your hips as he sensed your intentions.

“In what ways did you miss me, Seonghwa darling?” knowing that he would achieve nothing if he were to close the gap now, your reawakened passion darted between watching how your mouth moved as you spoke, and studying your irises, head clouded by what had been, and what could be.

“In… every way.”

“Oh, baby, you’re going to have to be a lot more detailed than that.” you mumbled against his lips, leaning away just as he was about to instinctively seek you out.

“I… your company… your words…”

“Should I move? So we can talk?” you teased, jokingly trying to detangle yourself, but to no avail as Seonghwa’s hold got only stronger, and you felt the leather of his trousers fully aligned and pressed against yours. He was impatient, seeking any form of friction, and yet was still holding out well.

“No… please Y/N.”

“Then tell me, what did you miss, exactly, so I can help you out?” an intensity behind the question threw Seonghwa off balance, making his head spin. Your newfound mastery of the dual renaissance bled onto the pages of the future, yet to be written, determined by every action.

“Your lips.”

“Mhm,” you leaned closer, planting a pack on his lips when he least expected it. Just enough to make him realise what you had done, but not any more, denying him the satisfaction of falling into you. Upon hearing his frustrated whine - music to your growing desire, you continued, “what else?”

“Your- your tongue.” he stuttered, eyelashes fluttering as he glanced everywhere except at you, all while rocking ever so slightly on the spot.

“Elaborate, sweetheart, or do I need to drag everything out of you?” you tightened your hold on his chin, dragging him back to you.

“No. Goodness… this is embarrassing…”

“Oh, is my poor baby getting shy? Since when? You always made such pretty sounds for me and now can’t tell me what you want. How am I supposed to take that, hm?” Seonghwa’s cheeks transformed before you, traversing every shade of pink before settling on the deepest hue, “will you be good for me, Hwa? Will you tell me what you missed?”

“I,” he paused, reconsidering, weighing his words, “I miss the way you make me lose my breath when you kiss me. I miss how you unravel me, ruin me with your tongue and mouth around my cock. I miss the feeling of you riding me, I love how every part of you and I is riddled in pleasure as I fill you up with cum and how you don’t stop until I am barely present, and then you bring me right back. I miss how you know me. How you- how you taste. I miss you, Y/N,” he shot at lightning speed, stumbling over his words as he revealed the scenes of his long-standing collections of fantasies that echoed from when you had lived heart to heart, body to body.

The depiction set you ablaze more fiercely than before, and any hints of fear were fully replaced by a carnal greed for the man before you. Need was an understatement. You redefined sin with your voiceless urgency, pushing yourself into Seonghwa’s arms fully, feeling a considerably stronger pressure against your hips where he was standing - clearly you were not the only one who was damning the existence of locks and doors that were barring you from direct access to your apartment.

“See, was that so hard? Now, let me show you how much I miss you.”

A rush, an all consuming energy, a passion that you had not known, taken for granted and realised only when you purposefully lost it and gained it back thanks to Seonghwa being the one to not give up on you, on the flame the two of you created. Your lips moved in a seamless tandem as you stumbled forwards, pushing Seonghwa closer and closer to the door. Fortunately, he had a good enough sense of his surroundings to not trip, falling only for you. You hummed into the sensation, heat pooling to your core as you tasted the coolness of his grills. Nipping at his lush lower lip, you beckoned him to deepen the kiss, a request to which he obliged almost immediately, tilting his head for a better angle. Groaning into the intimacy, you fished out your keys, and after a couple of clumsy tries, finally heard the click of the mechanism. With his foot Seonghwa curled around the door, opening it to give the two of you access, and just barely, you managed to catch it back and slam it shut. As soon as the sound reverberated over the two of you, a switch flipped in your lover, and his hands which were previously almost tied to your hips now freely roamed your body, relearning it, tracing every curve like there was nothing better in this world. Like you were the statue of a goddess and he was a devoted sculptor, working on the masterpiece for all of eternity, aware that he would never be able to replicate the true beauty but still remaining fixated on the blessing that was the process.

Shoes left in a messy pile on the doormat - a problem for later, the two of you tripped over one another, choosing to remain in one another’s arms as you finally made it down the corridor and to your bedroom. As you stood by the frame, you ran over Seonghwa’s inner lips with your tongue, seeking access, and relishing in his taste, better than you could have ever recalled even if you made the effort to. Seonghwa tasted of longing, of a faith that was so rare you swore he was a man from long-forgotten myth or fairy tale, and of the slightest hint of strawberry that he loved so much - the first contraband not meant for human ruin that you had arranged transport and distribution for. Tongue grazing the gold that covered his lower teeth you were finally fully aware, trusting the now; you were not dreaming, you were with him, and you need not deny yourself nor him.

You led him deeper into the room, patient as he felt for the bed behind him to obediently take a seat. Taking his glasses off his head, leaving them on top of a dresser, and motioned for him to rid himself of the jacket and gloves, an order that was punctuated by the articles falling with a thud to the floor. Chuckling to yourself as you recalled Seonghwa’s usual concern with neatness and organisation, the action turned to be a confirmation of his yearning for you. Your own jacket now hanging off the back of a chair located in the far corner of the room, you sauntered back to Seonghwa, swinging a leg over his lap and taking a comfortable seat, facing him. His breath hitched as you grinded closer, feeling his clothed arousal against your body. Following the motion with a few more moves of your hips, Seonghwa gasped, letting his head fall forward, forehead hitting the crook of your neck.

“Y/N, please.”

“Please what?”

“I need you…”

“How do you need me?” you coaxed every wish out of him, gaining pleasure every time he would pause to contain his urge to hide, to back out of answering you, aware of the consequences if he dared to question or dishonour your demands in this sultry ritual.

“I need your mouth, please love, I cannot stand this.”

“But it is right here,” you pointed at your lips, reddened from the previous contact, a coy smile rendering Seonghwa helpless.

“Do you not feel it? Please Y/N I am begging you I need you to su-”

“Not so fast, pretty boy, I need you to convince me.” you cut him off before he could finish his sentence, “can you do that for me?”

“Yes, a million times yes. Please.”

“I suppose I’ll be nice and help you with my clothes,” one button, another, it seemed that Seonghwa was counting with you, ravenous. His hands undid the button and zipper of your trousers, pulling at them to ask for you to let him slide them off. In a few practised moves, you were left only in your bra and panties, a lacy white, earning whispers of praise from Seonghwa, a love for just how well the piece he had bought you some time ago looked, and you, by a twist of fate, happened to choose to wear today.

“Will you lie down for me? All the way up,” without further explanation, Seonghwa shimmied backwards until his head practically hit the headboard, eyes remaining on you, widening as you hastily took off your panties, exposing what he had been pleading for. Crawling towards him, you placed a hand on his chest to tap him out of a lustful stupor, “now darling, can you show me how much you missed my taste?” a nod, another, but you did not move, “words, Seonghwa, I need words.”

“Yes, let me taste your pussy, please.”

“Of course, since you asked so nicely.”

Positioning yourself over Seonghwa’s face, you gripped onto the headboard and lowered yourself until a hungry tongue ran over your already soaked folds, making you gasp. With tentative licks he drew tender, slow circles over your clit before dragging his tongue back to taste you fully, moving in and out of your hole, curling into it. He returned his attention to your sensitive bud, rolling right over its tip, earning a rewarding moan which spurred his eagerness to drive you to higher pleasure. Knuckles turning white from your efforts to maintain at least some illusion of balance, your breaths quickened as he continued to run his tongue over your core, accelerating the buildup of your climax with every flick. Attentive, worshipping every part of you, he sucked on your clit, relishing in the taste of your slick that now coated him.

His hands found purchase on your thighs, levelling you and bringing you even closer to him until his nose was pressed against you, and tongue driven deeper into your wet cunt. A parched man, Seonghwa groaned against you as he felt the first signs of your approaching orgasm, with the vibration sending an electrifying jolt straight to your core.

“Ah- Hwa I-”

“You taste so good, thank you, love,” he mumbled from under you, only to return to abusing your heat with his swift tongue, speeding up as he felt your pussy begin to clench, beg for more, and a light trembling start to course through your muscles. Burying his head between your legs and lapping at the nectar from the lustful, voracious pokes into your hole at the very base to intricate sensuality over your clit, Seonghwa drove you over the edge.

Supporting you through your orgasm with his powerful arms, he moaned as you rode it out, drinking your release and revelling in its sweetness. Stars in your vision, you struggled to lower yourself off your lover, a shudder running over your body as he lifted you a little higher, sliding upwards to give himself a better angle. The action snapped you out of a loss, and you found yourself kneeling next to him, smiling in gratitude.

“Such a good boy for me, thank you my love.”

“Always. May I… kiss you?” he inquired meekly, wondering if his present state could potentially deter you.

“Of course,” you leaned in, closing the space, tasting yourself on Seonghwa’s lips, tongue and grills, but even then, nothing could be more perfect. His hand stretched to run over the side of your face, motivating you to come closer. Fingers in your hair, tugging ever so gently left you breathless. Breaking away, you mumbled promises against his lips, hands moving to work on his leather trousers.

Getting the hint, his top, too, was soon found strewn on the floor, leaving him in the accessories that appeared to only highlight his beauty, so meticulously picked and paired that you had to force to take your gaze away. His irresistible tanned body, every rise and fall of his chest highlighted by the shadows that decorated the room. His beguiling, glazed over expression that was trained on you as you planted kiss after kiss on his torso, each making him question if he could ever breathe again.

“I missed you, Hwa, so,” one peck, “so,” another, “much,” ending below his navel, hand hovering over his member, so painfully erect that you almost felt guilty for getting him to eat you out first.

“I missed you ah-” hand coated in precum and your spit, you positioned it at the base of his cock, causing the abrupt cut in his response. With a steady pumping, you addressed Seonghwa, feigning obliviousness.

“Sorry, you were saying?”

“I- I- fuck-” squeezing its girth, you rubbed circles over the tip, making him lose his train of thought, or its remnants.

“So?” holding his dick in place, you waited for his response before reacting to his earlier words.

“Y/N I missed you- ah shi-” upon hearing the sought after phrase you lowered your head.

Opening your mouth, you shifted position to take in as much of him as you could, gliding your tongue against the shaft in practised motions and moaning as you felt him twitch with the warmth. The dribble that ran down the still exposed length added to the wantonness of the situation as you left behind any wish to remain cautious with Seonghwa; after all, he had been explicit with his love for ruin. Centering yourself, you relax your jaw further, taking in more until you could sense the tip approaching the back of your throat. You placed one hand on your lover’s pubic bone, warning him to not buck his hips, even though you were perfectly trusting of him remaining obedient. Dragging your head up and back down, it was easier moving to the sounds escaping from Seonghwa’s throat.

Gripping onto the bed sheets, he was abandoning the clarity and resolve with which he had showed up at your door so many times. Rose after rose he had not been sure if it was you he was convincing or himself. But here, amidst the unfathomably divine pleasure, Seonghwa was merely grateful for how trivial it was, how natural it was for you to take him back. His high was fast-approaching, but before he could act on it you were already removing yourself with a lewd pop, fingers between your folds and twisting to massage your overstimulated clit. Unclasping your bra, you noticed Seonghwa’s otherwise unfocused gaze immediately switching to paying close attention to your breasts, cock twitching in anticipation as you repositioned yourself to be on top of him. Teasing the tip of his leaking member by trailing it between your folds, you watched Seonghwa’s face contort in pleasure once more, wholly submitted to you as you guided it inside of your pussy. As you sank down on him, sighing from the way in which he filled you up, pushing against your walls in all the right places, Seonghwa grunted, eyes squeezed shut, overwhelmed from the stimulation. It was clear that he was using all the strength he had left to hold himself back from acting rashly - he wanted you, he missed you, and he was not about to let this heaven go.

You started to ride him, hands on either side of his body as you lifted your hips only to drive them back down, sheathing his member inside your cunt. Conscious of the fact that he should let you take the full lead, Seonghwa took to searching for anything better to hold than the sheets, crumpled into oblivion and leaving little in terms of comfort. Grounding him as you rocked your hips forward and back, you found his arms, gliding upwards until your fingers intertwined. Seonghwa’s eyes snapped open and he stared at you open-mouthed, in disbelief at your initiative for what he had clearly remembered you labelling as ‘too close for comfort’. Instead of abandoning the gesture, you tightened your hold, your own moans amplifying and joining his breathlessness as the knot in your core grew tighter and tighter with every thrust.

“Is this- what- you cannot live without, Hwa?”

“Fuck- yes, yes, yes-” words spilled out of him while you picked up speed, spurred on by the nudge of his hips that signified he was close. When he was not submerging himself into pure darkness, he could only manage to register the rhythmic motion of your breasts and an

“Can’t stop thinking of this pussy even when your cock is stuffed inside, huh?”

“Love this pussy- please, Y/N…”

“Love to be fucked dumb by me?”

“Yes, please I- I am so close Y/N…” his wavering voice and feeble pants cried for affection, which you readily provided even though you had no plans of slowing down.

“I know, baby. Fill me up, fill me up with your cum. You can do it darling-”

Seonghwa did not need any more encouragement. With a final groan, suppressed only by a snapping of his jaw to turn the sound into a prolonged hiss, his hips bucked uncontrollably into you, painting your pulsing walls with ropes of white, the awaited release rendering any speech into indecipherable babble. But you still had your high to chase, and restarted your movements, grinding your hips over his throbbing member to build up your climax while Seonghwa held onto you, whining from the excessive stimulation.

“Such a good boy for me, letting me cum over your cock.”

“I- this is too much I-”

“Are you feeling okay, baby?”

“Don’t, please do not stop- I want to make you- ah, cum,” he answered, each word uneven as you raised yourself repeatedly until, with one final movement and the stroke of the tip against your most sensitive spot, you collapsed on top of your lover, a shiver running over you as your pussy clenched around his dick, milking him of the last of his release.

Rolling over to the side, but not quite wishing to move, you remained in one another’s arms, sweat glistening in the night light, adoration ablaze in every feature. Sliding out his softening member from your warmth, a shy smile adorned his lips as a mixture of slick and cum followed, spilling onto your gorgeous thighs. He tapped you on the shoulder, helping you up so that your faces would be level with one another, and pressed his forehead to yours. He focused on your proximity, pulling you closer, closer until there was no space left. He never wanted to let you go. Never again. If you so wished, you could walk away, but he was sure that his heart would remain with you.

If you wanted to, you could throw it away, burn it, cut it into pieces, but it would still be yours. As he saw his future being written in your pupils, he planted a loving kiss on your lips, for it to be returned with just as much feeling. No longer did you wish to hide it away from him. Your emotion, your expression and vision were his. It was clear to you that there was no one else in this universe who could be trusted more than him. If he so wished, you would let him leave you in the cold. If he decided you need not create, you would agree. If innovation was not in his plans, you would follow. In love was sacrifice, in love was offering, in love was future, in love were you and him. It was as simple as the unfurling of a pearl white rose, as clear as ink on white paper.

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 2 months ago

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Hi could I request a drabble please?

I recently found out that apparently Asra and MC shared a bed (I assume it’s because it’s implied they were together pre-plague, and they just never got another one after MC was revived) so could you maybe write something about like their nighttime routine post-resurrection/pre-relationship?

Here's your drabble friend! And if you're curious, here's my take on Pre-Prologue Asra and MC and a quick overview of my best guess at what their relationship was like. (Though of course, it's purposefully vague so each reader can decide what their MC's journey was lol)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Asra?"

"Hm?"

"Why do we share a bed?"

Your mentor pauses, the outline of their shoulders stuttering as they reach for the last candle lighting up your bedroom. You give them a moment to collect their thoughts as they silently snuff out the flame and sit at the foot of the bed.

"Would you ... rather not?"

You shrug. "I don't mind. I was just curious."

You see his silhouette heave a deep sigh against the window's block of starry sky, one hand reaching up to run through his hair as you've learned he does when he's facing a problem. His body slumps in defeat and he responds ... oddly cheerfully.

"You remember your first few days here ... you needed a caretaker. There isn't enough space for another bed, and you couldn't see me when I slept on the floor, so ... that's why." You watch the shadow of their head turn in your direction with a bittersweet chuckle that's been the soundtrack of the last few years. "I guess I never broke the habit."

"Did we share a bed before?"

"Did we -" He trails off and stands, walking slowly around the bed to his side and thoughtfully smoothing the tattered old blanket lying there, still not climbing in next to you. His voice is thick when he speaks again. "Are you sure you want to remember?"

You grimace at the thought of your recurring migraines. "No." You toss in place, uneasy at your friend's hesitance to sleep when their presence at your side is one of the most constant things in your life. "I was just curious if ... you remember."

He responds with an airy laugh and climbs into bed, tone light and carefree. "Even if I didn't, would it matter?" With your eyes adjusting to the light, you're able to see the relieved smile on his face and the genuine joy in his eyes. "We're both here now, aren't we? These memories are a gift ... and we're still here, with more to make."

You barely catch the way they whip their old blanket under their pillow, one colorful faded corner left out to tuck under their chin. You'd asked who the baby was that it belonged to once, and don't remember getting an answer. Speaking of questions and answers -

"Aren't people who share beds usually lovers?"

His eyebrows shoot up in awkward surprise. "Yes ... yes, they are."

"But we aren't."

"No, we're not." A firm confirmation with a studied poker face - this isn't something they're up to talk about right now.

You think to the lonely moments in the shop when he's away on a trip, the sight of couples walking by outside with linked hands, the one time an attractive tourist paid you with a wink and left you with an unexpected blush. "Do you think ..." you mumble softly into the dark room, "do you think I could ever have a lover?"

They smile so gently your pillow feels softer. "I'm sure you will, if you want one."

"And if I do?"

He burrows deeper into his pillow, fingers tightening around the old baby blanket. "When you find one ... I'll be right there, celebrating your happiness."

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana drabble #the arcana imagine #the arcana fanfic #asra alnazar #asra the arcana

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qierxing · 2 months ago

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Tipsy Spells

A/N: Drabbles based on drinking prompts for a warm up. Yan! LaDs x Reader TW/CW: Implied confinement/captivity, obsessive behavior, drinking problems(so many drinking problems), unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional manipulation, dub//con, unhealthy relationships, co-dependent behavior, unbalanced power dynamics

—

Xavier/Shen Xinghui

Xavier doesn’t have many rules in his apartment.

He lets you eat whatever. Books, TV, games, and even more are open for your entertainment. There’s no limit to what you do, so long as you’re not endangering yourself. It’s almost…normal. As normal as you can get when you’re under a sociopathic captor.

So when you open up the shopping bags Xavier went out to get, you’re rather disappointed.

“Really? Beer?” Holding up the bottle from the bag, you glare at Xavier balefully. “When you said you were going to get something ‘special’, I hoped you would, you know, get something stronger?”

Xavier gives you his signature innocent look while putting away some ingredients from the other bag. “I thought you liked beer though.”

You did. But living with Xavier has been terribly dull and grating. If it meant some reprieve, you’d rather not be sober.

“Can’t you get some huangjiu at least?” you plead.

Xavier looks at the digital clock above the stove. Nearly one in the morning. “I think the supermarket nearby is closed now.”

You groan. Giving up, you open a drawer and retrieve a bottle opener and crack the beer open. At this point, you’ll take what you can. Anything to not feel like clawing your eyes out from hysteria or boredom, whichever the two strikes your mood first.

Xavier follows you out the kitchen into his living room as you slump into the cushions of the couch, chugging the bottle. You protest as he takes the bottle from your hands.

“Hey!!”

“Don’t drink too fast. You’ll end up feeling sick,” he softly says. You roll your eyes and huff. After a moment, he gives you back the bottle.

“It’s not like there’s much anyway,” you mutter reproachfully.

And it’s true. The second time you lift the bottle up to your lips, there only remains several spoons of liquid that goes down your throat. By the time it trickles to several drops, you start to feel the whoozy effect of the alcohol in your system. Not strong enough to really do anything, but just enough to make your tight shoulders relax.

You barely register Xavier taking the bottle again and setting it on the coffee table. When he winds a warm arm around you, you don’t protest. You’re too tired to fight. And it would only result in being banned from going outside again.

“Want to watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

Maybe you could get yourself to fall asleep midway.

Zayne/Li Shen

When he came home late that night, he expected you to be sleeping. This, however, was not entirely surprising.

You’ve been behaving so well, he’s forgotten about how you were prone to being susceptible to easy and unhealthy escapes.

You’re on the floor leaning against the slanting open doors, nursing a bottle of vintage port wine. Several other empty bottles litter the floor; sauvignon blancs, rosés, and various other kinds of wine he never bothered to open. He’s never been one to drink, but gifts were gifts, and it felt like a waste to throw them away.

He wants to scold you for breaking into the wine cabinet again, but he supposes it won’t register in your foggy mind right now.

“My love,” he says softly, kneeling down and wrapping a solid arm around your shoulders. “Let’s get you some water.”

Your glazed eyes slide over and it takes a minute for them to process Zayne in his doctor’s coat.

“Shaddup…” your face pinches into a sour expression, and his heart freezes at the sight. Your head lolls to the side unsteadily over his supporting arm and you click your tongue.

“You–you’re sucha, ahh, ah party pooper, ya–y’know?” Your words slur together in a loopy insult. He hasn’t seen you this drunk in a while.

“Let’s get you some water,” Zayne repeats, more firmly this time. He works to release your death grip on the glass bottle, but you fight him every step of the way.

“S-stop, stop that, Li Shen,” you garble in distress. He pauses in surprise at the once affectionate name in your voice. “I don’t wanna feel…if I can’t drink, then I-I, it, ah, it starts to hurt so much...” you giggle, as your cloudy eyes look up at him brimming with wetness. “It hurts so much…I just, just–don’t wanna hurt anymore.”

He swipes a gentle finger under your eyes, catching the tears and flicking them away. Zayne knew everyone had their lapses, but this time in particular made his heart ache.

Of course, you didn’t take to being resigned from your job and brought under his care. Even if he devoted every bit of his body and love, it seemed it wouldn’t be enough to bring back the love you used to hold in your heart.

Zayne decides to leave the bottle and bring your slumped body up into a chair instead. By the time he brings you a glass of water, you’ve already finished the bottle and planted face down onto the kitchen table.

Puffing out a worried sigh, Zayne rakes his fingers through the messy tangle of his dark hair before setting down the glass and reaching for some painkillers.

Come tomorrow morning, you’ll awake with a pounding headache and queasy nausea, and he’ll be by your side, even if you’re reluctant to rely on him. But no matter how much you cry and struggle, Zayne couldn’t give you up anymore. Not when he couldn’t go on without you.

“I’m sorry, my love,” as he presses a kiss to your limp hand. “I can’t let you go.”

Rafayel/Qi Yu

Rafayel is an interesting kind of drunk.

You suppose it’s a combination of the Lemurian blood and his passionate, artistic soul. For anyone else, it would either induce sleepiness or giddiness. For Rafayel? The end result is a highly unstable, ludicrously stupid merman who thinks that nothing else matters but you.

Granted, he already had this mentality while sober, but while imbibed with alcohol, the effect was more pronounced and obvious.

“I looove youuuu, like,” Rafayel hiccups, pausing his proclamation. “-like, thiiiiiiis much~” He opens his arms wide in a flourish as if he was in front of an applauding audience.

You only hum in acknowledgement as you swipe his glass of baijiu out of his hand. Rafayel whines, but ultimately gives up retrieving his glass back when you finish the rest of the liquor inside. Setting down the crystal glass as gently as you can, you sway unsteadily as you land back on the couch cushions.

“I love you when you’re drunk,” you admit shamelessly. “At least you’re less annoying that way.”

If Rafayel had been sober, that statement might have ended another few nights being forbidden from stepping outside the studio, more bite marks littering your skin, or forced to beg for your clothes back. But he isn’t sober. Instead, he giggles loudly, as if you just told him the funniest joke in the world.

“You’re sooooo mean,” he gasps. He giggles again. “But it’s okay! You’re still cute as ever~”

You briefly wonder if you could get away with strangling him to death. The thought is dismissed when he starts to cling to you. You forgot that unfortunately, while his senses may be clouded, his innate strength was most certainly not.

Despite your best(while drunk) efforts, Rafayel’s arms remain tight around your waist, his face buried into your stomach. You click your tongue in annoyance.

“Qi Yu.”

No response.

“Qi Yu, get off me.”

For a moment, it was quiet. Then a loud snore echoes and air is blown directly onto your stomach.

Maybe you can try seeing if you could get him by suffocation.

Sylus/Qin Che

Formal dinners don’t make you nervous.

What did make you nervous is the very man who invited you to his grand dining room.

The head honcho of Onychinus. And N109’s ticking time bomb.

You don’t like the man. Call it paranoia, intimidation, or anxiety, you simply do not like him. He’s a towering sort of brute with appropriately broad shoulders and height that makes heads either turn or bow instinctively. His eyes, you shudder, makes you think of hellfire, brimstone, and all sorts of terrifying things. People have whispered of those who have been buried under his hand.

You don’t want to be next.

But, business is business, and information is information.

“Does the bourbon suit your taste?” Sylus asks with an amused arch of his eyebrow.

You smile uneasily as you take a sip, bittersweet tones of chocolate burning your throat and all the way down to your stomach. “Surely you’re not bribing me with liquor to figure out what I know?”

“I take offense at that, sweetie.” You stiffen at the affectionate pet name. The fondness dripping from his tone leaks disgustingly over your skin. “I’m sure you know I have my own ways of getting what I want.”

You hide an annoyed grimace with the glass as you take another sip. “Then, how may I help you, sir? I only broker info and nothing else.”

“By being mine.”

The response is so ridiculous that you can only stare. It takes too long for you to come back to your senses. Your smile strains your taut cheeks.

“Very funny joke, sir.”

“Oh, but it’s not.”

Your smile fades as you feel two presences behind you. You grip the glass tightly. Before you can even move, Sylus clicks his tongue in a patronizing way.

“Don’t even try it, sweet thing.” He smirks. “I don’t want to use force if you don’t cooperate.”

You loosen your grip.

“Why are you doing this?” you whisper. You’re only one among thousands of other info brokers in N109 zone. And even more so, you’ve been on the outer edges like an outcast compared to other highly sought people.

Instead of answering, he simply holds out the bourbon bottle with a genuine smile that sends shivers down your neck.

“I simply have a taste for fine things, and you, my dear, are one of them.”

#yandere love and deepspace #yandere lads #lads #my works

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year ago

Note

How about #2 with Thor,Arthur, or Deadpool? 🙃💛

.⋆｡Put Some Clothes On You Slut ｡⋆.

Arthur Curry x plus size reader

Arthur loves to tease you when you have things to do but you can give it as good as you get

Warnings: nudity, teasing, fluff, implied smut, reader calls Arthur a slut (like we all know he is)

WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

3000 Follower Celebration

“Ok so we have dinner with your parents tonight but we’re in charge of drinks and dessert so I was thinking that you could run into town to get a nice bottle of wine while I made a pie. And then oh yummy just so- Arthur!” You looked up from where you had been folding the long overdue laundry only to see your fiancé wander into the bedroom dressed only in a towel that did nothing to hide the way his ‘gift’ swung as he moved. Your thoughts quickly trailed off to a place you had no time to go before you caught yourself.

“What?” He asked but the smirk on his stupid face gave him away. You angrily pointed at him.

“No. This is not happening.”

Arthur dramatically put his hand on his bare chest like he was offended. “What’s not happening? Dinner? That’s disappointing, I was looking forward to it.” You glared at him.

“Fine, if that’s how we’re playing it.” You sucked your teeth and turned back to the laundry, folding the last remaining shirt and then moving over to the closet. Arthur’s light footfalls followed you, keeping just enough distance to keep you interested. “Tomorrow, I’m meeting up with Lois, and Clark but I really think he just invited himself. He’s got some serious fomo.”

Your fiancé reached around you and plucked up a pair of underwear from his pile as you were putting everything away. You fought the urge to look back at him, knowing that if you did, you would just be giving him what he wanted. You cleared your throat and kept talking. “So you’re welcome to come along if you want, I doubt Clark will want to listen to me and his wife having girl talk.”

There came a muffled thud from behind you, and out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of his white towel now a heap on the floor. You could vaguely see his naked legs out of your peripheral vision, you were tempted, dear god were you tempted to just look up a couple more inches. Your grip on the now empty laundry basket got tighter. “And um, your mom wanted to go wedding dress shopping this weekend but- fuck.”

You made the mistake of turning around once you believed it was safe but instead you were met with the glorious view of Arthur’s mostly naked tattooed body, wearing only the tightest, smallest boxers you had ever seen. That bastard knew you were close to breaking.

“Out!” He actually jumped at your outburst. “Go on get! We absolutely cannot be late tonight and I cannot show up to your parents’ house smelling like sex. So go get a bottle of wine, a nice one, and leave me alone until we have to go.” Looking like a kicked puppy, Arthur whined and left the room, shooting you a sad look over his shoulder.

You huffed. “And put on some clothes you slut!”

Arthur had homework, and as pathetic as that sounded, it was resoundingly true. In order to get the Atlantean king more involved in Justice League business, Bruce had given him a stack of files on various villains to read through. Begrudgingly, Arthur had complied, of course with a little motivation from you but Batman didn’t need to know that.

So once a week, he would hole himself up in your little office at the back of the house and study. As soon as the door shut behind him, you set your plan into motion.

Making sure the shower was extra hot, you stepped into the stream of water. You stayed in just long enough to quickly scrub your body in your extra fancy body wash and to make sure you were completely soaked. You grabbed the smallest towel you could find (coincidentally it was the same one Arthur used only three days ago) and wrapped it around yourself as best you could while not completely drying off. Most of your naked body was still visible though, including your entire right side, but it covered just enough that Arthur wouldn’t be suspicious.

The grumbling coming from behind the office door told you all you needed to know. You smothered the smirk on your face behind a concerned expression and quietly entered. His huge figure was hunched over your desk, a large pile of paper in front of him, his unruly hair tied up messily out of his face, exposing the way his nose scrunched in confusion.

“How’s your work going Art?” His shoulders visibly relaxed at the sound of your voice.

“It’s going,” he responded with a grumble, turning in his seat to face you but froze quickly, “Queenie, what are you wearing?” Playing dumb, you looked down at your scantily covered body, still wet and warm from the shower, then back up to your fiancé.

“Oh I just took a shower, is that a problem?” He furiously shook his head.

“Nope, nada. You take allllll the showers you want lovey.” He looked at you and it seemed like he was about to get up from the desk to attack you but the files caught his eye once more and he deflated. You grinned victoriously. “Except maybe not today,” Arthur winced, “I have a lot of stuff I have to get done.”

“How would me being all wet and steamy be a problem for you my king?” Your voice took on a sultry tone, one you only used in the bedroom and it had an immediate effect on him. His eyes instantly went dark with lust and his fingers curled into a fist.

With a herculean effort, Arthur forced himself to turn away from you and focus back on his work. “This has to get done so can you put on some clothes? I can’t concentrate.”

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry. Let me get out of your way, I know how important all this is and how you can’t be distracted.” You purred as you walked back to the door, making sure your hips swayed sensually, just the way he liked. “Come find me when you’re done.” And then you dropped the towel.

There was a beat of silence and then.

“Fuck this.” Huge hands were suddenly wrapped around your thick waist and you were spun around, coming face-to-face with the man you had promised to spend your life with. “You are an evil evil woman.” He snarled.

“And yet, I got the King of Atlantis to crack.” You smugly responded.

“Then let me show you what riling up a king gets you.” And Arthur learned that day that you gave as good as you got.

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seventeenpins · 7 months ago

Text

a little domesticity

pairing: Tess x F!Reader word count: 2.3k summary: You discover it's Tess's birthday. You decide you want to make it special. Tess fingers you while you cook her dinner. Same universe as Drive Me Home if you like?? content/warnings: basically just porn, no implied age gap, this is so domestic!!!!, established but new-ish relationship, lil bit of daddy Tess, fingering, very mild degradation, no outbreak or pre-outbreak AU, pet names (baby, honey), Tess works at a high-powered but undefined job a/n: For @ozarkthedog 🩷 Congrats on your 11k, and happy birthday Ozzie!! You've given us so much with your celebration, but you should be the one getting gifts! I know this is pretty extraordinarily late (sorry, love) but I hope you like it 😚

You are determined not to have to make two trips. Tess's apartment is up five flights, the elevator is on the fritz, and your legs already ache from the gym yesterday. You want to do anything you can to not have to go back and forth.

Three grocery bags hang off your left hand and two on your right, slowly cutting off any remaining circulation. A bottle of wine and a gallon of milk are tucked into your elbows as you heave yourself up the steps. Grocery shopping is a truly Sisyphean task, and the slog up to the apartment only confirms this.

By the time you turn the corner past the fourth landing, you're cursing yourself. It's so much. You know your arms will be aching, but of course you're stubborn enough to overdo it.

Finally, you make it to the fifth floor landing, and Tess's door is the third on the right. It's inelegant, trying to keep the bags steady while shoving your hand into your pocket to dig around for your keys. Your fingers are verging on numbness, and right as you move the key to the lock, you fumble and drop it.

That's the moment you hear the phone ring inside.

It sends you into a rush, and in your haste, you drop half the bags and still don't manage to open the door before the ringing stops.

Instead, you swing the door open right as the beep of the answering machine sounds, a bunch of bananas and a bag of English muffins fallen at your feet.

A man's voice chimes out, tinny and a little distorted.

"Tess! It's Joel. Happy birthday! We're gettin' old, huh? Let's get dinner soon, on me. Tommy's wishing you well, and Sarah, too. I'll catch you later."

Then you hear the click of a receiver, and the machine stops.

You frown. Leave the groceries where they're sat and rewind the tape a few seconds. Hit play.

"'S Joel. Happy birthday! We're gettin' old, huh? Let's get dinner soon, on me. Tommy's wishing you--"

You click it off.

He definitely said Tess. And 'happy birthday'.

So why the fuck didn't Tess tell you it was her birthday?

You know it's not really a big deal. Maybe she's just not a birthday person. It wouldn't really surprise you; there's a nonchalance that she exudes that sometimes throws you off .

If you're honest, though, you love birthdays. The gift-giving. Getting to make a fuss over your loved ones. And, you reason, if the Millers can wish her well, then it's probably not a sore spot for her.

More than anything, you've been wanting an excuse to celebrate her. Maybe this can be it?

As you prop the door open and begin to drag the grocery bags in, as you scrubbing the produce and putting everything away, you allow a plan to form.

It's been a long day but a good day. Work was a series of tasks that required some creative problem solving, and Tess felt like a fucking magician the way she'd been kicking ass and putting out fires.

Trekking up the innumerable steps, she felt suddenly lighter when she remembered that you had offered to make dinner.

From the moment she turns the key in the lock, she immediately starts salivating.

"Babe?" she calls, shucking off her shoes and shrugging off her jacket.

"In here-" you call back.

A moment later, soft footfalls are padding into the kitchen, and she's slipping her arms around you. She rests her chin on your shoulder and surveys the scene in front of you both.

"Shit, hon, this smells amazing."

You do a happy wiggle against her and start pointing out everything in turn. "So, we've got garlic tossed broccolini. Parsnip ravioli in that one, only has a minute or so left. I'm just starting the sauce now, so it'll be a few minutes before everything's ready, but you've made it in perfect time."

"Ugh," Tess groans, appreciative, "You spoil me. What's the occasion?"

"OH, don't let me drain the pasta water without saving some."

"I got you," she promises, sliding past you to grab two beers from the fridge. She notices when your eyes linger on her hands as she pops the bottle caps. "Careful, don't burn-- whatever you've got on the flame there."

With a shake of your head, you roll your eyes. "But seriously, is that a real question, or are you testing me?"

She frowns. Hands you a bottle and takes a swig of her own, sliding back behind you. She presses against you and wraps her arms around your waist.

"What are you talking about?"

You grind your ass back a little more and she puts one hand on your hip, but now she's smiling at you, mildly puzzled.

"Do you know what the date is today?"

"Oh shit, did I forget something important?" she detaches. "Did I forget our anniversary?"

"You tell me." You nod your head towards the calendar hanging on the fridge. "I'll help you out, it's a Tuesday today. And we've only been together six months. And you brought me flowers for that, like, a week ago."

She stares at the calendar for a moment and then looks at you. Looks back and forth.

"I--"

She's frozen in an incredulous frown.

"Happy birthday, honey," you tell her.

"I can't believe I fucking forgot. And how did you know?" she laughs.

"Hah," you laugh, "Answering machine went off when I got in. Your friend, Joel, he was calling to wish you well."

She snorts. "Fuckin' Miller saves the day?" Then she looks you up and down. "And you, baby, you've definitely saved the day." She looks over the spread again and notices the counter covered in flour, the kitchenaid with a roller attachment, a piping bag nearly fully emptied, and various pastry cutters. "Shit, did you make all this yourself?"

"The ravioli? Sure did. Just wanted an excuse to spoil you."

Tess plants a kiss on your lips and you moan into her mouth. When you pull apart, you're panting.

"Now," you tell her, suddenly serious, "I prioritized dinner and didn't have a chance to get you a present."

"Oh, hon, you don't have to-"

You cut her off, waggling your eyebrows. "But you do still have someone to unwrap."

"Don't have to tempt me, honey," she grins.

"Just let me finish up with dinner-"

She has a different idea. "I bet you can finish up while I open my present."

You snort. "Be patient."

"I don't have to be patient--it's my birthday."

"Tess, I-"

She ignores you, pressing gentle kisses down the side of your throat.

She know's it's a guaranteed horny button for you, and she exploits that weakness mercilessly. You have to fight not to melt. Even so, you let your eyes flutter closed, bathing in the sensation and not wanting anything to stop or change. She lets you relax into it for a moment, before bumping her hip against you, nudging you forward.

"Go on, baby. Better keep cooking. I'm hungry."

You let out a deep breath and snap yourself back. You spark the cooktop and place down the sauté pan. (You prefer cooking at Tess's apartment. Hers has a gas range. Yours has electric.)

After checking the temperature, you place a stick of butter in the pan. Tess runs her hands up and down your sides at a leisurely pace. Just her touch is enough to make you weak kneed again.

She passes you a slotted wooden spatula and you start to push the stick of butter around, watching it sizzle and melt as Tess makes you melt. You hear the clink of her own belt before you feel her undoing the button of your jeans.

Your pasta timer dings and the moment is broken. You grab the pan and are about to drain it in the colander you have set up in the sink, but before you can tip it out, Tess stops you.

"Hold up, hon, save that pasta water."

"Shit! Yep, nearly forgot it."

You set a liquid measuring jug beneath the colander and let the pasta drain, before taking the pasta water and turning back to the melting butter.

Tess's hands are back on you, pulling down your zipper now. She shimmies your jeans past your hips, kneading your ass with one hand as she trails the other from your belly button lower and lower and lower-

You start to lose focus on dinner and can only pay attention to her.

Tess slips her hand down your front and gasps when she gets to your bare cunt, hot and wanting. You're wearing no underwear, clothed only in the curls between your thighs.

"Naughty girl," she praises, and you swoon as she starts stroking her fingertips along your cunt, collecting your wetness and smearing it on your clit before pressing harsh circles into you that make you shudder and squirm deliciously.

"Don't let the butter burn," Tess chides, and you blink your eyes open, reaching for the utensil and moving the last of the unmelted butter around the pan, watching it start to foam at the edges.

"What else do you need, hon?" she asks, "Got all your ingredients?

You glance around. The sage is there. The pasta water. Garlic. Pepper.

"Uh-huh."

"Good," Tess says, "'Cause I'm gonna need you to stay put and focus."

A surge of heat pulses through you and you feel Tess's breath on your neck, a delicious sigh.

You add sage leaves to the browning butter, savouring the sudden aroma as the sage begins to heat, releasing its fragrance.

Tess resumes her work, slipping your jeans down to your ankles and guiding you to step out, all the while you stir the pan.

As the sage sizzles in the butter, she presses a finger against your folds, finding your opening, and eliciting a gasp from you as she enters you with two long fingers.

Finding a rhythm, she starts pumping the digits, pulling whines and moans from you, pausing only to let you smash the peeled garlic with the palm of your hand against the flat of a chef's knife and mince it a little more. You toss it into the pan and, once the knife is out of your hand, she resumes.

Two fingers become three, and as you splash the pasta water in with the butter and sage and yelp as she picks up the pace.

"Love those lovely little whines you make for me. All those sweet noises, that's all for me, huh?"

"For you," you agree, another whine escaping.

"Messy fuckin' hole, taking my fingers so good. Such a good girl, baby," she praises, and you don't realise she's not referring to you until she says, "Look at her, gettin' all puffy and wrecked."

You let out another sound, this one closer to a growl. You can feel yourself beginning to drip down her hand as she fucks her digits into you, pressing into you so nicely, working you open, making your knees quake.

"Sweet little pussy opening right up for me. Think she can take another?

"Fuck, daddy, please-"

Trying to keep stirring while she works on you is a near impossibility. With a focus that can't be anything less than witchcraft, she smacks your cheek while you're moaning, eyes closed and keening.

"Don't let it burn," she scolds, and your eyes snap back open.

The sauce has started to thicken, and you turn down the flame so you can take a moment to grind yourself deeper onto Tess's hand.

"Wanna put on the strap?" you ask. "Want me to put on the strap?"

"I'd take either," she admits with a laugh, "But the dishwasher's running."

"Fuck."

"Did you just put the cycle on?"

"Yep. Are our dicks in the dishwasher?"

"Our dicks are in the dishwasher."

You let out a whine. She just maintains her pace and rubbing a fingertip in blinding, tight circles around your clit.

"Poor baby," she teases, "I barely have to play with you and your cute lil hole soaks me like a fuckin' whore. You're so fucking easy."

"Hnnnggg-"

"My pretty little slut. Just gotta give me one, baby, just one and I'll let you finish dinner."

Another whine.

"C'mon, honey, I feel you gettin' close. Clenchin' on daddy's fingers. Fuck, cum for me baby, let me feel you-"

She reaches around you and turns off the flame, the fingers of her other hand pumping faster and rougher. You're bent forward, gripping the counter for support, as you feel yourself start to tip over.

"Fuuuuckkk-" you cum with a cry, Tess's fingers working you through it as her other hand wraps around your waist, steadying you. You hear the splash of your release against the laminate floor as she keeps going, pumping her fingers fast and deep, hitting just the right spot, dragging your orgasm out longer than you knew yourself capable of.

It takes a couple of minutes, coming back down. You feel your slick cooling on your thighs and turn around to see Tess leaning against the hallway behind you, grinning wickedly as she licks her fingers one by one.

"You're gonna be the death of me," you tell her, and she slides back behind you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Not allowed to die. It's my birthday."

"Hmmph," you roll your eyes and begin to plate up.

The groan Tess lets out as she takes her first bite is more than worth it.

"Fucking fuck, honey, I mean- holy shit this is so good."

You grin. "Glad you like it."

"I know what I'm having for dessert," Tess smirks, waggling her eyebrows.

"Yeah," you agree, "I made you a tart."

"You're my tart."

You roll your eyes again. "I am, but I made one special for you. Dessert first, then you can eat me as much as you like."

Tess nods solemnly before breaking into another grin. "Thank you honey."

"Happy birthday, baby."

#tess servopoulos fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou #tess servopoulos x reader #tess x reader #tess x f!reader #okay it should PROBABLY be your birthday rather than hers but this is what flowed pls forgive meeeee

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surely-galena · 8 months ago

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So I finally read Vyn’s Winterwish SR Timeless Wishes and it has NO right to be this funny. I was laughing the whole way through

First, we continue the saga of Vyn unable to handle the cold (like fair enough dude, he’s wearing THREE layers in this card -- vest, shirt, turtleneck). Attached screenshot is from the Blizzardous Threads of Red invitation where we see Vyn trying to imply he is this close to freezing. (It's because he's not wearing gloves...)

And then MC goes ahead and calls him a PATHETIC MEOW MEOW--

Next up, we have Vyn getting unintentionally psychoanalyzed by the handicraft shop owner. Hey. Hey Vyn... how does it feel to have the tables turned on you...

Then Vyn and MC return home and we get THIS BIT that still makes me laugh:

Vyn, what are you using Ogier for??? Is cleaning your room all the SPECIALLY TRAINED BODYGUARD is good for? This is so hilariously baffling to me. Does Ogier literally drop by Vyn's place just to tidy up? Is he going to walk into the room and sigh at the sight of Vyn's bedroom floor covered in a ridiculous amount of yarn? And this begs the question: what else does Vyn call on Ogier for? To deep clean the kitchen?? Ogier, my guy, I genuinely wonder how you feel about this because you are not beating the butler allegations...

Okay, and then we get some wholesome fluff where Vyn and MC exchange gifts, but Vyn looks so perplexed at MC's collection of wishing cards that I had to include this screenshot. MC truly never fails to surprise him.

And then after the card story is done, we get THIS text conversation when MC declares she wants to make... DIY slime. Vyn's reaction is what makes this part for me. Mr Fancy Two Degrees honestly had no clue what slime was and was probably mildly concerned at her suggestion (although she explains what she means by slime after the cutoff).

Vyn, expecting normal activities like crochet or pressing flowers: What shall we try next?

MC, incredibly up-to-date on all the current trends: slime!!! :DD

Vyn: say what now

The second text message references the Cooking Card again and I just thought it was hilarious that Vyn purposely misunderstands the point of the card. He uno reversed the situation on her, but I can't really fault him for that. It's definitely a Vyn move.

#also 'if you go back on your word... then I will have to start making some overboard wishes.' hey Vyn. hey. uh. what does that mean #tears of themis #vyn richter

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obae-me · 2 years ago

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hii, i hope you're having a good day. I love your writing and I was wondering if you could do the "bros being protective" with diavolo, barbatos, simeon and solomon.

The people have spoken! And I shall answer! Please accept this as a late holiday gift! We shall have more protective headcanons! I hope hope hope I did the datables justice!

They’ll Always Protect You Too

TW: Mild Violence. More violence is implied. Threats. As Always, Read Safely!

_____________________________________________

Diavolo

It was a miracle. Somehow, you and Diavolo managed to find a time where you could spend the day together. And by miracle, that means you assisted the prince into sneaking out of his own castle. Otherwise, you'd both never get to be out on your own. Sure, the ruler of the devildom could by all means order everyone to leave him alone, but the both of you knew that either Barbatos or Lucifer would find some way to keep an eye on him.

So, feeling like a rebellious teen in a cliché Coming-of-Age movie, Diavolo snuck out while Barbatos was distracted. He tried to disguise himself by wearing casual clothes, wearing a jacket with a hood over his head. Of course...it didn’t hide him all too well. There’s not many in the Devildom with his grand stature and booming voice. But one could hope...and pretend.

He wanted this to be a normal day with no royally annoying responsibilities.

Of course, he hadn't really done anything like this before, so he didn't know quite what to do, so you suggested walking around. You could get something to eat, window shop, whatever you both wanted.

For a time, everything went swell. You both had a bite to eat, making sure no pickles were involved. You looked around shops, and while people were absolutely turning their head to make sure that they really did see the prince of their realm strolling down the street, no one said anything or bothered you two.

That was till Diavolo got a call. He’d been found out, and from the sounds of it, a fretting Barbatos was on the other line. It’s odd to hear the butler worry so much, so with an apologetic grin, Diavolo stepped away from you for a moment to assure Barbatos that all was well.

You turned, going to pace just a few steps down the street before a demon bumped into you, staggering you backwards. Their D.D.D. fell out of their hands and onto the floor. “Whoa! Sorry there,” they actually apologized.

“Oh...uh...no worries.” Still a little stunned from the abrupt encounter, you bent down to pick up their device for them.

The demon snatched it from the ground before you could even touch it. “Say, weren’t you just at Café Lament earlier?” Finding it a weird question, you struggled to respond. This, they took as a confirmation. “I knew it! You looked familiar! The human for the exchange program, yeah?” Again, they didn’t give you much time to answer. “Aren’t you staying at the House of Lamentation?” Why did they want to know so much about you? And why were they not letting you speak? “Who was that demon with you then? Didn’t look like any of the Seven Sins.” This was beginning to lead down a road that made your stomach churn. “Are you out here alone?”

"They are not." It was a simple declaration, but a strong one, a wave of power washing over you both, raw magic filling the air, flooding your lungs as if you had just inhaled a cloud of smoke. The other demon felt it too, freezing in place, suddenly aware that they were messing with the wrong person. You were gently pulled, being suddenly moved behind Diavolo's back. His first instinct was to put himself between the two of you. He did not shout, he did not fight, he simply stood there, slowly lowering his hood to reveal his face. "If there is something you need from them, you can ask me."

The demon's eyes grew wide from sheer panic. If there's one rule down here demons do follow, it's to not tick off the prince. They stuttered, immediately falling into this act of false respect, bowing their head towards their ruler. "I-I was simply curious about the program, your majesty. Of course, I only wanted to learn about your wisdom first-hand and I-"

"Enough," Diavolo simply raised his hand, the demon silencing immediately. If he did so with a spell or simply sheer intimidation you did not know. "You are dismissed." Those words were laced with magic so powerful, you almost turned and left yourself, but Diavolo kept his arm near you...kept you close.

For the other demon, however, they began to walk backward, their body betraying them as the order from the prince flooded their bones. They kept moving with their head bowed till they were several feet away from you. Only then did they snap out of it, looking around them in a fearful daze before they ran off.

Diavolo remained in place, shoulders squared, suddenly aware of the whispers of others, the public looking on. He whispered to you, guiding you away from everyone else, using his body to keep you out of sight. “Let us...return to the castle.” He said nothing till you both were on castle grounds, the gate shutting behind you. Then he turned, his posture sagging slightly as he no longer felt the need to be so regal. His words were assertive but not aggressive. “Are you alright?”

How could you be truthful when someone like Diavolo was right in front of you? You knew he was a prince, but sometimes you forgot...how real that royal status was. “I’m...I...I’m okay.”

His lips parted as his jaw dropped ever so slightly. His eyes narrowed in a bit of pain. “You don’t need to act around me. My title is simply that, just a title. Sure, I may be a prince, but don’t you see more to me than that?”

You looked away from him for a moment, but then nodded. He was more to you than just a prince. “I’m a little frazzled, but they didn’t do anything to me. You came just in time.”

He managed a smile, sighing in relief. “I’m glad for that at least.” He gestured towards the castle, the two of you walking. He fell back just enough to stand with you shoulder to shoulder. “I’m sorry today didn’t go quite as planned. Shall we spend the rest of the day here with just us? No one will bother you. You and I are free to be just who we are without having to fear the consequences.”

Barbatos

For the love of Diavolo, give this man more of a break.

Even on his day off--his royally ordered day off--he still was thinking about grabbing groceries and other various items for the castle or for Diavolo. “The dining hall could use new drapes,” he had said. “I am running rather low on tea, what if a guest arrives?” He had fretted. “As it happens, I am currently on the hunt for a particular set of antique measuring cups,” he informed you. Perhaps work never really ends as a demonic butler. Although that last bit of information did seem more personal than the others...

So, the heavy duty of convincing the butler to do something for himself for a change now rested on your shoulders. At the rather desperate request of the prince, you might add. Of course, at your simple suggestion of heading out, he expressed how happy he was to do something with you.

Sometimes two and two really does just equal four.

So you both took the time to go on a lovely stroll. To avoid getting him to think about work, you brought up the idea to find a more scenic route of the town, leading him away from shops and places where he could start checking off his errand list.

He agreed, leading you through a lovely public garden and up to an overlook, the two of you peering down at the busy buzzing demons that scurried around the Devildom.

Then your peaceful moment was interrupted by a ringtone. With a polite ‘pardon me for a moment’, Barbatos took the call. Guess someone finally contacted him with an offer for the aforementioned antique measuring cups. Good for him, he deserved something nice like that.

You allowed him his privacy, wandering a little ways away to look at a lovely flowerbed with several glowing flowers. Only, as you crouched down to observe the petals, some stranger did the same thing right next to you. “Aren’t these gorgeous?” The demon asked, acting unfazed as you flinched, startled at the sudden appearance.

You stood, moving around to the other side of the public flowerbed to give yourself some personal space. “Y-yeah, they’re...nice.”

…The demon mimicked your movements, coming around so they were shoulder to shoulder with you. You felt like you could hardly breathe with them being so close...

Now was the time to leave, you figured, before the situation escalated. So you took a step forward...only to find the demon was now blocking your path, standing directly in front of you, hands in their pockets, keeping you from moving on. “Why the rush? We were having a good talk, weren’t we?” What talk? The single mention of the flowers? “Stay with me a while...We have a lot we can talk about.” Their hand outstretched to grab you.

All the sudden, a swirling portal crackled into existence behind the demon. Neither of you had time to fully comprehend what was happening before rattling chains shot forth from the other side, wrapping around their limbs, entangling the demon in their grasp. “Wh-what is this?” The demon shrieked, struggling. They had no time to ask any questions. With a brisk tug, the demon was pulled into the magical void.

When the portal closed, Barbatos was behind it, tucking his D.D.D. back into his pocket. For a moment, you could’ve sworn the relatively calm and neutral expression had vanished, a frown and furrowed brows framing angry glowing eyes. But you blinked and that image was gone, replaced by his typical pristine smile.

“I...what was that?” You asked, head still spinning at the whole situation.

He took a few steps closer to you, making sure that you were unharmed by checking you over. “That was me simply doing my upmost to keep the city streets free of...” He had to actually pause to think of the proper word. “Needless commotion.”

“Where...where did they go?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“If you really must know, just to one of the castle’s holding cells. There they can mull over their mistakes and relearn some common manners.” You stared at him, wondering what to properly say in a situation like this. Something seemed to chip away at him the longer you looked at him. “Trust me,” he ended up saying. “I had seen enough to know where it was going. I won’t waste time when it comes to you and your safety.” Once more, a flicker of honest emotion brushed over him. Just for a second. A look of worry, of pain. “Not again.” Then it was gone, and he simply smiled once more as he brushed away a winkle in your clothing. “Shall we head back to the castle?”

“What about those cups you wanted to get?”

He put a gentle gloved hand on the back of your shoulder as he turned you towards the direction the castle was in. “I can always retrieve those later. There are more important things to attend to right now. Tell me, what kind of treats would you like me to make for you today?”

Solomon

He...he asked you to come because of some emergency...The voicemail had been brief and cryptic. Something about ‘the end of times’ and ‘terrible mistakes’--it was hard to make out the message when a sound like roaring wind kept washing out his voice. So of course, you ran over to Purgatory Hall as fast as you could, breathless, prepared for an apocalypse, only to find him standing outside waiting with a smile. Cheeky wizard. Had he really done all that just to get you to come spend time with him? Not that you necessarily felt like complaining. Living in different dorms meant that you didn’t see each other as often as some of the others.

Besides, it always felt like he was busy doing something. Not that he would ever tell anyone what it was he was working on, some spell or plot of some kind. Something that he always taunted was just out of your magical league, or something that your mortal mind would struggle to comprehend. Possibly just all a scheme to get you to study harder…and possibly one that was working.

Anyways, that was no longer the point. The focus now was on what you would be doing for the remainder of the day. He had a list of all the Devildom’s most fascinating shops, ones that contained relics and essentially fancy highly-sought-after dust-covered objects. You agreed to go along with him on the exception that you both would go out and get something nice to drink. After making a mad dash all the way over here, you were now quite parched. Any longer, and you would yourself be a relic.

He laughed at your joke and that was that, going so far as to buy you a drink from one of the local cafes. Now you were both ‘even’, as far as he was concerned, perhaps making up for his little crank-call earlier.

Speaking of a call...

You recognized the sound of some of the brother’s voices on the other end of Solomon’s phone, all shouting through the speakers. Apparently some sort of cursed spell went haywire and was causing havoc through the House. When there’s something weird, and it don’t look good, who you gonna call? King Solom--Nah, doesn’t have the same ring to it. Although, Solomon really should think of charging some kind of fee for fixing so many magical mishaps.

That train of thought aside, Solomon gave you a slight humorous roll of the eyes, walking away from you as he tried to solve the problem over the phone.

You figured you’d check your D.D.D. Maybe the group chat had some fun messages in it. You’d hardly even unlocked your device when a demon approached you out of nowhere, backing you up against a wall. They were uncomfortably close.

“Excuse me,” you scoffed, going to move out of the way, but the demon slammed their hand against the wall, keeping you from moving. But that wasn’t going to stop you. You ducked under their arm and backed up.

They glared, still silent, still not sharing their intentions. They started to approach you again.

Time to go.

You dashed into an alleyway, rushing through till you were on the other side, trying to blend into the crowd. You didn’t dare look behind you yet, simply swerving around people and weaving yourself through a maze of pathways, trying to ensure you’d lost the demon.

The moment you finally decided you’d turn around, someone grabbed your arm.

Before you could even think it through, your mouth was already speaking a spell. “Spirit of wind, protect me!” You quickly turned, palm facing your attacker.

A burst of wind rushed from your body. The impact was so forceful, it pushed you back, falling to the ground while the person who had grabbed you was a few feet away from you. They groaned a bit under a mess of now wind-swept white hair.

It was not the demon. It was Solomon.

You quickly got back up on your feet and to his side, pulling him by the arm to help him stand. “I’m so sorry!” As you were helping him, you noticed some bruising on one of his hands, all focused around the knuckles. “I thought...there was a demon and they...”

Before he spoke, Solomon simply chuckled, straightening once he was properly upright. “I was worried about you for a moment, but it seems maybe I shouldn’t have been.” After he dusted himself off, he scanned you over for injuries. “Are you okay?”

Still trying to catch your breath, you looked around, trying to spot the demon that was chasing you. “I...think so, I don’t see them around.”

Something flashed behind his eyes as he smiled. “You must’ve shaken them off. Good job. And that spell you casted? It was nearly perfect.”

Once the facts were starting to settle in, you realized where you were...how far you had managed to make it before Solomon caught up with you. You were nearly on the street you normally took to make it back to Purgatory Hall. Had you run this way subconsciously or...was there more to it than that? You raised an eyebrow at the other human. “How...How did you find me?”

He hummed a bit, amused, putting a finger to his lips. “A sorcerer never reveals his secrets.” He then used that finger to point down the street. “We’re nearly home anyway, so why don’t we head back?”

Before you moved, you wanted confirmation for your suspicions. “Did I hurt you?” You gestured towards his hand, and for a second, you watched his all-clever expression fall into an exhausted one.

“You did not, no. Don’t worry about me.” He looked at his knuckles and let out a single breathy laugh. “Didn’t even feel it. Guess I’m getting older, huh?”

You shook your head at him, a bit in disbelief both at the joke and at the thought of the ‘wise wizard Solomon’ throwing back-alley punches. “Guess I owe you one, don’t I? Thank you for saving me.”

The joking halted, Solomon waving you over so you could walk side by side as you headed back to the Hall. “No need to thank me for this one. I’m just glad to see you safe...even if you did hit me with a spell.” Okay, so there was still a little joking. “But if you still feel like you owe me, how about...staying with me for the rest of the day?”

Simeon

The angel had been working much too hard as of late. Not only does he have to watch over the Devildom’s smallest guardian angel, Luke, but he does have to essentially manage the Devildom’s oldest human, Solomon. On top of those two, he was working on a new writing project. Night after night he would work on this manuscript, writing himself right into a horrid bout of writer’s block. A travesty in two parts.

It had been decided. Simeon needed some fresh air.

Spending some time outside away from the responsibilities of Purgatory Hall would do him some good both physically and creatively. Maybe being around you for the better part of the day would bring down some divinely timed inspiration.

Regardless of the outcome, Simeon simply beamed when you came all the way over to the Hall to ask him to come with you to the heart of town. He was quite literally glowing, a faint light shimmering behind the silhouette of his body. Of course, he did feel a bit guilty leaving Luke and Solomon home alone together, but he promised to bring them both home a little gift. He was always sweet like that.

You let him tell you what he was working on while you both walked, glad to hear him talk so passionately about something of his. He shared with you his outline, his plot, his main character...and you couldn't help but notice some...similarities between your story and this protagonist of his. But you couldn't be fully sure if that was his intention, after all, creators take bits and pieces of the world around them to make their art. But...knowing him...and his stories...it was absolutely based off of you.

However, before you were able to question him on his choice of character creation, he got a phone call. Without thinking, he answered it, not even checking to see who was calling. Luckily, it was only Luke. Unluckily, the angel was very upset, apparently near tears at some scary movie Solomon had shown him.

With an empathetic 'oh dear', Simeon stepped aside to do his best to console the little angel.

You watched him move away from you with a little smile, shaking your head a little as you wished Simeon the best of luck in your mind.

“Excuse me,” a sudden voice called out from behind you. You turned to face a demon, one you had never met before. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

Immediately, a little feeling settled into your gut. One might call it paranoia, the other would call it intuition. You didn’t trust this demon one bit. “I...uh, am not sure I’d be of much help. Perhaps if you asked someone else you-”

“I didn’t want to ask someone else, I wanted to ask you.” …Man did you hate it when your gut was right. The demon stepped closer, the look across their face a bit more sinister than before. “Are you saying you don’t want to help me? That’s rather rude.”

You took a step back, and then the demon grabbed your wrist.

All the sudden, a bright light flashed behind you. The demon quickly let go of you, shielding their eyes as they were suddenly blinded. What was it? An explosion? A flashbang? Then the light faded, the sound of footsteps coming up behind you.

The first thing Simeon did was gently lift your wrist, making sure you were unharmed. It was a bit sore, sure, but nothing terrible. He ran his fingers over it before letting your hand fall back to your side. With a slow turn, he looked at the demon and smiled.

He said nothing. Not a thing. Just stared, an unwavering ring of light around his irises.

The demon didn’t like that. Blinking spots out of their vision, they growled. “Damn angel.”

“Do you wish to atone?” Simeon finally asked, his usual friendly tone now a serious one as cold as Lucifer’s. The demon didn’t reply, considering their options, wondering if they would rather fight or flee. A spotlight then seemed to shine over the demon, every part of them uncovered under this warm glow. The warmth then seemed to grow hotter, the air humming with magic. “Or would you rather experience Celestial Retribution?”

You struggled to see with all the light, trying to shade your view with a hand in front of your face. But you heard the demon run more than you saw it, listening to them curse obscenities before scrambling away. The light only faded after the demon was long gone.

When you were able to see the angel again, his face was covered in shadow, his head tilted downwards. “Simeon...”

In a few quick steps, he suddenly had you in a hug, releasing his nerves and his anger in a long sigh. “Thank heavens you are alright. I’d never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you.” He pulled himself back and rested both hands on your shoulders. “You’re not hurt right?”

“Yeah, I’m-” You were going to say ‘yeah, I’m not’ but were cut off by the angel before you could finish.

“You are?!” He actually raised his voice a little, emotions running high through him.

“I meant no! I’m not!”

He dropped his hands and took a deep breath, collecting himself. “Forgive me.” He put his hand over his chest and closed his eyes, waiting until he was properly composed before reaching that same hand over to you should you want to take it. “Shall we both head back to the Hall? I think we both would feel better away from the crowds. Plus, I think Luke would feel much better after seeing you again.” He still looked at you with worried eyes. “Don’t stray too far from me. I don’t think my heart could take another scare.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #tw: violence #tw: threats #tw: implied violence

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alicerosejensen · 2 years ago

Text

ha ha ha! Here's another portion of Papa Leon's headcanons. I hope to write more sad text, but so far only headcanons. This idea has been in my head for almost 10 days.

warning: Leon is a single dad; Loss of wife/girlfriend (S/O) due to zombie bite; The child is female; Leon's daughter is implied to be immune to viruses.

- When Leon found out that he would become a father, he was surprised, excited and very worried.

- He had long lost hope of starting his own family, but he was glad that he met you after China.

- You understood that the child meant the end of your relationship, but you also wanted a family, so having gathered all your will into a fist, you announced that you intended to leave the baby. Plus, you knew he still had feelings for Ada.

- It was painful and scary for you to admit it to him, but you had the strength to tell him about everything that had accumulated in your soul.

- Despite the fact that two people are involved in the conception, Leon does not have to bother with the duties of fatherhood. You yourself are raising YOUR son or daughter.

- This is what you said to him without even letting him utter a word.

- But Leon also wanted this child.

- There was a quarrel between you, the reason for which Leon did not understand. Yes, it will be hard, but he is ready to take responsibility for little Kennedy and whatever you think he loved you very much.

- There could be no question of any separation!Leon wants you to keep the baby, and if you mentioned abortion, he might flare up.

- So you were preparing to become parents together.

- During your pregnancy, Leon was very afraid that something could happen to you. He said the only weight you can carry is your baby. All the time while he was not distracted by work, he helped you get through the difficult time of pregnancy and read various literature himself. He also took some cute pictures of you talking and stroking your belly. He will definitely print them out later.

- You furnished the children's room, bought a crib and a lot of things. You were waiting for the doctor on the ultrasound to tell you the gender of the child.

- And when you did find out, you made Leon a kind of gift.

- The work of a government agent is dangerous and full of surprises, so no one knew about you and your child except for a narrow circle of people. Everything was strictly classified.

- But returning home from work, Leon heard you say that there was a present waiting for him on the table.

- A paper bag with a girly jumpsuit and a photo of an ultrasound with the caption on the back: Baby girl says hello to busy dad!

- Girl! Leon had already decided that she needed extra protection from future bullies.

- Everything was too wonderful that it began to seem like a sweet dream: he will soon become a father who will have the most beautiful daughter in the world. You will give him the family that Leon dreamed of for so long and was deprived of.

- You said there was nothing to worry about. There is still a whole month before the birth and that Leon will still have time to return to his girls, if he does not delay with his super secret mission.

- But Leon should have been worried.

- Because just two days after his departure, another outbreak occurred in the city that B.S.A.A and D.S.O did not have time to prevent. And the world is again flooded with zombies.

- You didn't even feel the first two bites when an infected shop visitor jumped on you while buying water. You pushed the zombie away by tearing it away from your hand, but he immediately knocked you to the floor, biting into your shoulder.

- By some miracle you managed to fight back. The only thing you were worried about was your daughter, so you struggled to your feet, holding your big belly, and got to the car to go home.

-People yelled and pounced on each other, biting into the throats and devouring the flesh. The sounds of an ambulance siren, police, and then shots were heard all over the streets ... You just wanted to get straight home along this crazy road, but you felt a sharp pain in the lower abdomen.

- Should I go straight to the hospital? You felt your seat getting wet, but despite the pain, blood and madness reigning, you still went to the original goal: home. The place where Leon will look for you first.

- You didn't close the door behind you. Tried but grappled with a distraught neighbor, who was also not averse to feasting on your flesh. You had no weapons, you were torn in half by hellish pain and your child... an innocent child should not die before being born. A loud volley of gunfire deafened you as Mrs. Jones stopped attacking you.

- And thick still warm blood stained your face and dress.

- It wasn't Leon. Ada.

- Seeing a lot of bites on you, including on your thigh, there was only one way out: put another bullet in the forehead, but you were pregnant. Ada wanted to find Leon, but found her (former?) friend's pregnant girlfriend.

- Leon would never forgive her for yours and the death of his unborn daughter. But damn it, you've been bitten at least three times already! Ada aimed the cannon and immediately lowered it when she heard pleas for help.

- Reluctantly, she helped you give birth, hoping that the child did not mutate into some kind of monster. But the room was filled with the usual cry of a child.

- But you already succumbed to infection: swollen black veins; pale gray skin and one eye began to become cloudy.

- "Do not tell anyone I ask you ..." - you croaked in a voice that was not your own, smiling terribly when Ada held your daughter. She quickly handed over the umbilical cord. - "Tell Leon she was born after my infection. She's not sick, I know."

- Ada wrapped the baby in swaddling clothes and reached for her gun again. The hand didn't shake when you asked her to kill you until the conversion happened. Ada fired, and you blood from your head splashed on the wall after which you fell to the floor forming a crimson puddle under you. The girl was screaming at the top of her lungs, but what she definitely didn't want was to mess with a newborn baby during an outbreak of the virus.

- But she couldn't leave the baby just like that, despite the fact that the original plan was to give Leon some information.

- All right, Kennedy girl, you better not turn into one of the critters.

- Ada took her away, making something like a sling for convenient carrying of the child, so that in parallel it was possible to defend.

- Maybe Ada should have waited for Leon at home, but it was too dangerous, especially since more infected people ran in somewhere on the ground floor.

- So she escaped through the second floor.

- Taking the penknife with which you fought off the zombies. Before the shooting, you asked Ada to give the knife to her daughter.

- "Plans have changed Leon" - Ada's voice came from Leon's earpiece. - "Meet me somewhere else and I have a little gift for you."

- But Leon's priority was his beloved with a child. What was the horror when he saw that the doors of the house were open wide and the moans of zombies could be heard from there. Leon dealt with them and together with his partner (it was Helena) went up to the second floor. But you weren't in the bedroom or in the bathroom. However, when Helena opened another room and went deep into it, she froze in place, losing all words, looking at your body.

- Helena noticed a few bites, but still your death was not a conversion, but a bullet in the head. Besides, it was clear from the huge traces of blood on your thighs that you had recently given birth. She barely forced her voice to be louder to call Leon, and when he immediately entered the room, the weapon fell out of his hands.

- "She's infected. Was infected…" - Leon wasn't listening. He picked you up in his arms, pressing your dead body to his chest. Now that he couldn't protect his family, he didn't care about anything. His beloved and his daughter, but Helena assured that the baby had clearly been born, because the umbilical cord was cut, and the baby was nowhere to be seen. - "We need to find the baby. Ada said you were supposed to meet at your house, but what if she took your baby?"

- "And put a bullet in his mother's head," Helena did not voice it out loud.

- With difficulty, but Helena gave her partner a goal to move forward despite all his heartbreak. Tears were streaming down Leon's cheeks and all he wanted was to put a bullet in himself. He. Didn't. Protect. You. This house was supposed to be your island of peace and love in which your daughter grew up, but it turned into another piece of hell.

- But he can still save his daughter!

- Therefore, when he met Ada at an abandoned station, his stomach dropped from the baby's crying. Ada was sitting on some old stool, almost like a mother, clutching someone else's child to her. However, without further ado, as soon as Leon broke into something similar to a rest room, she immediately said that he should drop the gun if he did not want to frighten his daughter even more.

- "Miss Kennedy herself" - Leon immediately took his daughter in his arms. Ada immediately realized that Leon knew what had happened at his house. "I'm sorry about what happened to her mother."

-There was an option to lie or tell the truth, given that this child's life depended on it. But Leon didn't seem to be listening anymore, but his partner was…

- "Relax," - but Helena remained tense. "She was born after her mother was bitten. I'm sorry, but I was too busy with the baby to protect your S/O. Of course, her mother did not feed her with her milk. I'm going to have to send you a bill for baby food and babysitting, Leon."

- In the end, Ada left as if nothing had happened, and Leon had to transfer the child to safe hands for the duration of the mission, but his thoughts were still confused.

_____________________________________________

- He had the idea to put his daughter in good hands. So that D/N has a full-fledged family, and not a loser father who could not protect her mother.

- D.S.O got into the situation and gave him a good vacation so that Leon could fix everything and find a kindergarten or a babysitter for his daughter. Actually, Hannigan, on her own initiative, offered several good options.

- If it wasn't for D/N, Leon would have preferred to get drunk in some bar, mourning his beloved, but he had to mess with diapers, baby food and put the baby to bed. And he coped abominably.

- Stomach cramps, newborn stubble with which he had no idea what to do… Leon was driven crazy by constant screams and he hardly slept until Claire came to the rescue.

- Being a free nanny and a good slap on the head for a dumb father, she took it upon herself to calm the D/N, and, to Leon's surprise, the child stopped crying pretty quickly.

- Claire sent Leon to a well-deserved rest and she cleaned up the house and took care of the baby. Leon found them in the evening in the bathtub where the baby was bathing, while Claire was shaking a rattle in front of her, talking funny.

- "She has your eyes. Did you know that?. And she'll grow up with pretty blonde hair."

- He smiled wearily as he watched D/N squeeze Claire's finger with a small hand.

- "I'm thinking of putting her in foster care."

-"You… WHAT?! - if not for the presence of the child, the younger Redfield would have cursed Kennedy with various obscenities. - "You're crazy! While some are risking their lives (a reference to Ethan - I adore him) for the sake of their children, you are like the last coward running away from the duty that has fallen on you! I know it's hard for you! Y/N died, but it's not your fault! No one is to blame for this, especially D/N, and you want to deprive her of her last loved one! Don't you dare do that, Leon! Or I'll put your stupid head in the toilet!

- Despite all the arguments that Claire considered as stupid as possible, she was really ready to dip Kennedy in the toilet, but she remembered about the baby and wrapped the girl in a towel, taking her to the room for later care: baby cream, tummy massage, a clean diaper for sleeping. Claire changed into a D/N ironed bodysuit and gently began rocking in her arms while she was preparing baby formula. Leon watched her actions, once again making sure that he was a shitty father.

- But is it right to give up your child by giving it to strangers? Claire made him think about his decision until he committed a fatal stupidity that he would regret for the rest of his life.

- And Leon has really put that decision aside for now. Thanks to Claire's advice, he began to cope better with the situation and fully blossomed when his baby girl smiled at him for the first time. Maybe she wanted to show her comfort in this way, but Leon literally shone like the brightest star.

- Actually, the older D/N got, the easier it was for him.

- Cartoons really save Papa Leon.

- Leon knows how to tie complicated knots and would also cope with the first pigtails.

- Claire still helps him a lot and they often go for walks in the park together. Being a single father is difficult but real.

- Alas, Claire also devotes herself to TerraSave, so Leon's daughter often stays with a well-tested nanny (Hannigan and Leon took care of this together). Yes, it's a big expense, but Leon has no problems with money.

- Leon buys his baby coloring books, various books, pencils and markers so that she does not get too sad in his absence.

- The new house is littered with all possible toys. D/N loved dinosaurs the most. Leon thought it was a temporary hobby, but all the dolls were quickly forgotten when his baby had an allosaurus given to Claire.

- Now baby Kennedy has a love only for all possible kinds of dinosaurs. Even bed linen and pajamas.

-"This is all temporary," - Leon told himself, handing his daughter a recently purchased toy. This time Velociraptor.

- Good. At least the girl is busy watching some kind of documentary about dinosaurs while her dad calmly cooks dinner.

- And Leon had to learn to cook, because no one else does it for him (maybe sometimes Claire).

- Maybe Leon doesn't always manage to be a good dad, but he tries for the sake of his baby and really scolds himself for thinking that he once wanted to give her to another family.

- Leon is definitely not getting married and D/N will be his only child. He will have one-night stands, but it will never happen at his house. The only woman he really loved was you, but now he only has a daughter left.

- Claire is still only his friend (I only see them as friends, sorry). A friend who helped him get up from his knees when he was depressed by your death and wanted to give up the child.

- Actually, she visits the Kennedy house quite often and can be considered to some extent a mom for D/N.

- Leon does not know that his daughter was born when you were already bitten three times, which is why doctors tell him about the high ESR in the blood D/N. No one understands what's going on because the girl behaves quite normally and feels pretty good.

- Some kind of anomaly. Maybe these indicators persist due to frequent colds?

- Because gradually they decrease, however, never to the norm.

- Frequent trips to the doctor have already become a routine with which he has come to terms. In the end, without noticing that something was wrong with his daughter, these tests were halved.

- When D/N grows up, it will be much easier for him to cope. The Kennedy family cleans the house together, or the Pumpkin (as Leon calls it) helps to cook (chop carrots or stir soup in a saucepan, add a little seasoning, but everything is under strict control). In addition, Leon tries to teach her to be independent, but it is difficult for him to do this because he constantly wants to spoil her so that she is happier.

- Leon keeps all drawings and children's crafts in a special cabinet in his desk. However, there are a couple of drawings on the refrigerator on a magnet.

- He can't always attend children's events where his daughter performs, but he tries to make up for lost time when he returns home.

- Sometimes he falls asleep with his daughter watching TV. When D/N falls asleep, he will take her to bed without waking her up. And be sure to turn on the night light (with a dinosaur).

- Leon doesn't mind if the girl runs to him at night, because she had a terrible dream. Leon knows all about nightmares, so let her stay close and tell some kind stories so that she calms down and falls asleep again.

- Someday D/N will want to know something about his mom, but for Leon this is always a closed topic. He won't tell anything except that you were a wonderful person and loved her very much.

_____________________________________________

And now the teenage period (D/N 13 years old) .

- The topic of mom is forbidden.

- Perhaps due to the frequent absence of her father, the girl has a bit of a rebellious character, but she does nothing to cause problems for her dad.

- On her birthday, D/N found a small box under the door. Thinking that it was Dad who sent the gift, he and Claire quickly started unpacking, but inside there was a rather elegant folding knife that looked very expensive. And a short note: "Your mom asked me to give you this. I think you're old enough for such a gift. Happy birthday, young Miss Kennedy."

- Claire turned pale when she saw a familiar object and a strange note. Leon would never send that. But the girl was thrilled to get something that had to do with her mother.

- Leon did not comment on the gift at all, but he recognized the handwriting on the note. He didn't want to spoil his daughter's mood, especially since he was late for her birthday, but the next questions began to annoy him.

-"Who was she? Also a secret agent? Did she save the world from bad guys? Look what an awesome knife! My mom must have been really cool! Maybe her partner gave me a gift?"

- Leon tried not to get angry, but the fucking knife still made him flare up. He quarreled with his daughter and immediately got a scolding from Claire when D/N ran to room. He understood that you can't be angry with a child who just wants to know something about his mother, but Leon never let go of that situation.

- He definitely needs to apologize to his daughter.

- As an additional gift, Leon, after a long conversation with his pumpkin, will eventually give her your photo. One of the few that he was able to keep.

- And ask not to play with a knife because it's not a toy.

- I think Leon's daughter likes to play guitar and her favorite song is "Wayfaring stranger"

- Therefore, a new guitar (exactly the one she wanted for so long) will be a gift from her beloved dad.

- Dinosaurs are still the most beloved creatures, why can we have a pet dinosaur?

- But in order to finally win his daughter's heart, he takes her to the dinosaur museum on a day off. Of course they will take Claire with them - she has long been an unspoken member of their family.

- And in the evening, the three of them will sit down to watch her favorite movie with a delicious dinner, which they will order from the restaurant at home.

- D/N is more like you - her mother-but her eyes and hair color are from her father.

- You knew that she would grow up beautiful and become even more beautiful with growing up. Before you died, you were sorry that you would never see it.

- Leon is calm when his daughter likes famous guys from these series and movies. However, the cardboard king from some movie that stands next to the bed began to confuse him

- "Come on Leon! Many girls love sugary boys." - Claire laughed, finding it funny. - "Wait until she starts going on real dates."

- Well he has a DSO database for that.

- In fact, Leon finds it soothing when his daughter is in her room playing the guitar while trying to sing at the same time.

- She still has bad blood tests with elevated ESR and leukocytosis, and Leon really doesn't understand what's going on, given that there is no malaise.

- Leon's weapon is always kept in a safe under a combination lock, however, when he forgot it one day on his desk after returning home, D/N wanted to support him in his hands admiring how cool it is but at the same time heavy.

- Of course Leon was scared when he saw his daughter with a gun in her hands and ordered her to put it back immediately.

-"Let me shoot!" - she said when she watched her father put things in the safe. - "I want to be like these guys with guns from movies. There was one Yakuza who had such an awesome gun with a pattern! Da-ad?"

- "No!"

- The password could not be peeped. And the birthday didn't come up either. But D/N got a scolding when she climbed into her father's office without permission, trying to get his gun.

- The restless child does not want to shoot herself or her neighbors at all, she just watches too many militants, believing that shootings are cool.

- Leon doesn't comment on it at all, considering what's going on at his job. But when pumpkin says that she will work with him after she finishes school, she can't stand this long hard look from her father.

- Maybe Leon really should teach her how to shoot and use a knife, but the thought that someday she might need it scares him. It's easier for Leon to keep his daughter in the safest place away from all this virus-parasitological shit.

- But still, after much persuasion, it brings her to the shooting range and even shows you how to hold and shoot correctly.

- Oh, it's a delight! She hit the target a couple of times and already considers herself the best shooter. But Papa Leon still praises her even for these two successful shots.

- "If the apocalypse happens, then I can watch your back!. I will make such a drawing in the form of a poster where we are next to each other against the background of a green world freed from people".

- Leon can't help but smile. This blonde-haired miracle is the only thing that really makes him happy. Therefore, even talking about the apocalypse does not cause anything but laughter.

- And if there's another outbreak, Leon will be Joel saving his Ellie. Even if him have to go against the government.

_____________________________________________

I'm a little sick, I have a lot of debts at the same time, but I like the topic of "father-daughter" relationships so much… Fuck, I also passed the "Last of Us again", and God, like the first one, I'm crying at the moment where Joel saves Ellie (I think he did the right thing and no one will dissuade me from this)

Now I literally want to write and read about "Leon and his daughter". Because this guy would do anything to protect his little pumpkin.

I will definitely make a couple more posts on this topic later. Maybe even a full-fledged fan fiction with an already invented name for his daughter (her name is Lara, yeah).

I love everyone who reads this and he likes it 💖

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #reader #papa leon #leon scott kennedy x reader #Leon Scott kennedy x daughter

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blanketorghost · 9 months ago

Text

Unlike the waves of the Suminoe

Word count: 2,793

Summary: It's Azul's birthday, and despite Azul's policies about gifts, Yuu insists on giving his crush a birthday present.

Pairings: Azul Ashengrotto x Yuu Fujisaki (implied)

A/N: Happy birthday to my bestest boy mwah💕

Companion/continuation fic can be found here! Also I will add the companion art tmrw im so tired fr

Taglist: @kazumify @the-trinket-witch @yavya

"I know you don't usually accept these, but... happy birthday." Against his better judgment, Yuu extended the carefully gift-wrapped package to Azul. His eyes glued to the floor as a sudden bashfulness filled his body. For once, he was grateful that Vil had forced him to wear that full-coverage foundation.

Somehow, someway, Yuu had been roped into being Azul's interview host for his birthday party, whatever that was supposed to entail.

It was a long-standing tradition in Night Raven College to make these grandiose celebrations for students; The entire dorm would be decorated to its max splendor and the birthday boy would be awarded all sorts of gifts; even receiving a specially tailored suit that fit the year's theme. Is that where the budget to fix Ramshackle dorm went? Either way, Yuu couldn't really complain. After all, he was awarded the same luxuries when his own birthday came along. Kalim and Vil made sure of that.

The festive atmosphere that engulfed the Octavinelle dorm was also a welcome change of pace. With the VDC approaching, practice was getting more and more intense. So when the opportunity arose to finally relax and pig out on junk food and sweet treats, practically everyone jumped at the chance— even if the birthday boy wasn't particularly well-liked by most members of the NRC Tribe.

It also was exciting to be able to candidly ask Azul about himself for once. Whenever they met up, they seldom talked about each other, often their conversations being engulfed by work or contracts rather than other, more casual topics one would normally talk about with friends. Yet, as host, Yuu was allowed the rare opportunity to run an honest-to-goodness interview without running the risk of being blackmailed by the octomer, something he couldn't just pass by.

It was pleasant to hear about Azul's birthday memories first-hand, and he even got to learn about his family traditions. He spoke plainly and happily about his parents, the ristorante they had back at the coral sea, and his own thought processes behind his management of the lounge. Yuu reveled in that moment of subtle vulnerability. It was nice not having to read between words for once.

Now that the interview was over, though, Azul went back to his all-business persona as he cheerfully greeted guests and accepted well-wishes, often recommending dishes in-between or proposing deals. It was only until the very end of the party that Yuu could catch his attention again and pull him aside to an empty table.

The wrapping paper crinkled as he clutched the gift harder and slightly bowed— his body moving on its own before he could even think. Despite being in Twisted Wonderland for more than a semester now, he still couldn't shake up some of the rigid mannerisms from back home.

Perfect, now he looked more like a fool.

"Ah. I think you've wished me happy birthday... three times already?" Azul's laugh ringed on Yuu's ears. Melodious and sweet. Genuine even, compared to his usual tone. "But if you know my rules, then you should've known already I can't take it." Despite his statement, Azul tentatively took the package and examined it.

It didn't look like anything special. A flat, hand-sized rectangle that was wrapped in modest striped lavender paper from Sam's shop. Yuu had done this intentionally. He thought if the gift looked inconspicuous enough, Azul would accept it without protesting, but it seemed he had underestimated his crush's stubbornness.

"It's a dumb rule." Yuu quickly retorted. "I don't need or want anything in return, Azul. It's literally your birthday." He finally found the courage to look up. As his eyes were met with Azul's smile, he couldn't help but return it with his own, his only hope being that it wasn't too dopey or lovesick. "And honestly, you're already allowing me the joy of giving. Isn't that enough payback?"

"If you word it like that, I suppose that's enough." He laughed again, and Yuu's heart did a flip. "What is it?"

"You'll have to open it to find out."

"Can't you just tell me?"

"That's not how this works, come on—" Yuu let himself laugh as he finally sat beside him and averted his gaze towards the cutlery on the table. Maybe if he didn't have to look him directly in the face, his anxiety would fade slightly.

He nudged the present closer and held his breath as Azul unwrapped the package, careful not to rip the paper. If he were from earth, Yuu thought, Azul would be the type of person that would save them to wrap other gifts.

"A bookmark?" He held the wooden charm up. The delicately carved slab was decorated at the bottom corner with a wave pattern— the closest Yuu could guide Rook to paint on with his limited artistic talent to reflect the ones he'd seen at home. At the top, a braided satin tassel was looped through a small hole, tied into a rope.

"I- I'm not good with crafts like these, so I commissioned Epel and Rook to help me out with some—... I wanted to give you something you could use." Yuu tried his best not to trip over his words as he explained. Why was he even explaining himself, though? His plan was to just give him the package and dip, but instead, Yuu was now hunched forward, one finger pointing at the details he wanted Azul to take notice of.

"Thank you. It is indeed quite a useful gift." Azul's voice softened, but Yuu couldn't really gauge what he truly thought about the gift without looking at him— something he refused to do. "Is this design common where you come from?"

"Yes, the pattern here is called a seigaiha. It's meant to represent ocean waves. Though Rook did take some artistic liberties on his interpretation."

"And this?" Azul's hand slid to the complex knot at the top. His curiosity slightly encouraging Yuu.

"It doesn't mean anything specifically, but I wanted to mimic an omamori— a good luck charm." He answered before averting his eyes again in embarrassment. "That's the only part I contributed with manually."

"It's still very intricate. Though I'm a bit insulted that you think I need a lucky charm." He felt Azul's weight shift beside him as he leaned on him for a few seconds. He knew it was a friendly nudge, but that still didn't help Yuu feel any less flustered.

"Everyone needs a little luck every once in a while, besides—" Yuu guided Azul's hand and flipped the bookmark to its backside, which had a small, white rectangle painted at its center. "It doesn't have the spell that makes it lucky written on it."

"So there is magic in your world." Azul's voice gained a smug tone, that one he used so often whenever he wanted to tease Yuu. Usually, he would just laugh along and reciprocate with a quip of his own, but his brain was already working overtime with just maintaining his composure. Thankfully, Azul didn't seem to notice as he continued. "Then, shouldn't you write something? It's your gift, after all."

"I am magicless, remember? It wouldn't work. Besides, my handwriting's kind of ugly. I didn't want to ruin it."

"I don't think— nevermind." He felt Azul's posture falter for a second. "What I meant is that... It'd be nice to get a message from you. But if you say so, I suppose it's for the best then."

Yuu's eyes darted up. Did Azul sound... disappointed? If he did, he didn't show it. His expression was as inscrutable as always, his lips curled into that all-business smile as his delicate fingers ran through the blank slate.

God, he was gorgeous.

And it was getting very difficult to keep denying him, especially on his birthday.

"I may... know something I could write on."

"Oh?" Azul turned to him, head tilting in curiosity. "What do you have in mind?"

"I don't want it to be something menial like a 'happy birthday' or a regular well-wishes message. That'd be a disservice to Rook and Epel's work. So instead, I thought.... I know a certain poem I could write instead."

"You're writing me a poem?" Azul's smile widened, and he crinkled his eyes smugly, having found the perfect opportunity to tease Yuu. "I didn't take you for a romantic. Or a writer for that matter."

"And I didn't take you for an insufferable tease, and yet here we are." He flicked a finger to Azul's temple, Azul flinching in return. "I'm not writing you a poem. I'm writing a poem. Pragmatics, 'Zul-kun."

"But it is directed at me, no? So you are writing it for me." The boy chuckled as he moved a hand to his forehead, rubbing the spot where Yuu flicked at him. "Shame I won't be getting an original. It would skyrocket the bookmark's value."

"You can't afford me." Yuu retorts, returning Azul's smug and cheeky smile with one of his own.

"I doubt that. What are your rates?"

"I'll discuss with my associates and get back to you."

The two let out a low chuckle as the conversation naturally veers back to their usual dynamic. And Yuu gives himself the luxury to lightly nudge Azul, extending their contact for just a little precious second longer. "Now I'm curious, though. What poem are you going to write for me?"

"It's just a short thing. Back from a collection of poems that are pretty famous back home." Yuu explains, not truly wanting to get into the thick of it just yet. If only to make their conversation longer.

"And?" Azul leans closer, not buying Yuu's humble description. They have known one another for long enough that Yuu wouldn't just bring it up if it was that trivial.

"And, it's also become a kind of card game because of its fame. It's called Hyakunin Isshu karuta."

"A hundred people, a hundred poems, huh?" Azul perks up, leaning forward and placing his palms on his chin. "Must be quite a challenge to memorize all of them."

"Oh, not really." Yuu smiles in spite of himself, and he sees Azul frown in return. He quickly wipes the smile off his face and coughs. "I mean- they are quite short. Just 5 verses each, split in two. So they're not that hard to memorize. Much like a couple of songs or an album by your favorite artist..."

"I get it. A simple game of memorization." Azul's interest seemed to have returned. "So what you're telling me is that if I memorize all 100 poems, I could win this game?"

"Well, yes. But you also have to be quick enough. Some competitive players can spot the matching card to a poem in seconds."

Azul hums, straightening back on his seat. "That's an interesting premise. You must come to the board game club one day and explain in more detail, I wouldn't mind investing in creating a deck for us to play."

"Maybe I'll buy you a set for your next birthday." Yuu smiles to himself at the tacit promise of celebrating another year with Azul by his side, even if it's just as friends.

"I'll hold you to that." Azul taps his finger on the table, then leans closer to him. "Now, about this mystery poem..." He trails off, urging Yuu to start writing.

A soft light emerges from his right hand and his signature fishbone quill materializes, shimmering that bright golden hue that illuminated part of the table.

Yuu carefully takes it. The last time he'd used it was when he signed those dreaded contracts in what seemed forever ago. He never expected he would've become so close with Ashengrotto when he was presented with the deals, much less catch feelings for him.

"Since you're being so annoying, maybe I'll just write half of it."

"So you're giving me half a gift? How stingy of you. Since when did you become such a cheapskate?"

"Shush." Yuu turns to Azul, placing a finger on his own lips. "The bookmark is the gift. The poem's just an add on you insisted on." He says, then places the tip of the quill atop the slate, slowly and meticulously starting with the first line. "Besides, think of it as a challenge; I'm giving you three fifths of a full poem. Can you guess what the last two lines are before next year?"

"That's terribly unfair." Azul stifles a giggle, his eyes following each and every one of Yuu's movements as he writes. "How will I be able to know?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll come up with something..." Yuu hums, tracing the line of a kanji until he's sufficiently satisfied with its thickness. "You're smart like that."

Azul only hums back in agreement, then chimes in once more "What is a 'Suminoe'? You have to at least explain to me the foreign terms."

"It's the name of a beach. I thought it'd be fitting given the bookmark's pattern." Yuu answers, mentally measuring the length of the third and final line. "All poems of this type have something relating to nature."

"And so, you thought of an ocean themed poem."

"Correct." Yuu nods, flicking the nib to finish his last stroke.

He couldn't quite discern from just Azul's tone if the comment was condescending, interested, disappointed, or entirely neutral about the poem's subject. Azul's voice already had a melodic and dramatic tilt to it when he talked. And the cadence of his words were so meticulously controlled to give so much information about his mood, they were a puzzle in itself.

"... I think I'm done." Yuu hands his finished message to Azul, who adjusts his glasses as he carefully inspects the writing on the slab.

As he reads the few lines repeatedly, Yuu watches his eyebrows pinch and his lips purse, and his heart skips a beat when Azul's expression slowly turns into a disappointed grimace.

"... I don't get it." He sighs, dejected, and places the bookmark down on the table

That was a risk Yuu always had to account for; that his references or sayings would be misunderstood or flew over people's heads. Especially when he'd just chosen to write half a tanka, famously known to need those last two lines to bring out the full context of the message. Usually, Yuu wouldn't even bother to say anything that could incur the confusion of others, but, with Azul, there was a benefit to being cryptic; It kept him interested.

Azul was so curious, so hungry for knowledge, he would eat up any and all information Yuu gave him. And whatever he didn't understand, he was eager to make it so he would the next time it was mentioned. At some point, Yuu started to intentionally include some of Earth's locations and slang, just to have the pleasure to explain to Azul anything that would pique his interest. It was nice to have an excuse to talk about home... especially when the listener was so eager to learn.

"It's incomplete. You're supposed to find the words to make it make sense to you." Yuu chuckles, handing Azul the quill back and leaning his cheek to rest on his fist. "I think it'd be interesting to see what meaning you extract from those words, then later see how closely it matches the authors." He smiles, but Azul only returns his gesture with a pout.

"Fine. I suppose it would be interesting to try out." He sighs and makes the quill disappear with a snap of his fingers. "But I would've rather had a full poem to think about."

"You're no fun."

"Perhaps I am not. But you'll still try to complete the poem?"

"Of course I will. That is, if I can't manage to pry those last verses from you."

"Over my dead body."

Azul chuckles once more, and, as he is called over by one of the employees of the lounge, Yuu watches him leave the table and bids his goodbyes, taking the gift from the table and putting it in his coat pocket.

Success.

He stays there seated for a while, watching as Azul weaves through the crowds and stops at some instances to entertain the guests. No rhythm or pattern, he just melded into the crowd seamlessly only to pop up once again somewhere else.

In a way, Yuu compared it to a delicate dance. A push and pull of socialization and taking times for himself to recharge. A beautiful view in his eyes.

Maybe that's why he chose that poem. Something that reminds him of Azul's nature of hiding, camouflaging, a figure so ethereal he felt it could only be seen from afar.

Unlike the waves that come up to the shore of Suminoe, in the gathered night.

#azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland #yuu fujisaki #twst oc #twst yuu #twst azul #ghost drabbles #ghost fics #azuyuu #yuuazu #azul x yuu #yuu x azul #azul x oc #azul x mc #twst #writing stuff

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lettersfromaphrodite · 1 year ago

Text

[1.32]

― pairing : Minho x fem! reader ― content warnings : wolf AU, reader is a witch, soulmates, this is pure filth honestly, implied choking kink, mirror sex, overstimulaton, medieval settings as always, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), fantasy au ― word count : 2.723

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

🐺🔮 WOLVES! STRAY KIDS SERIES

Chris part one | part two // Changbin // Jisung // Hyunjin // Seungmin // Minho part one | part two // Felix // Jeongin

Strong hands gripped your naked hips, short nails drawing small crescent moon shapes as they sank into your tender skin, as you were riding the boy sprawled on the grass under you. The front leather laces of his shirt were untied, so that the shirt was half-open and allowed you to scratch long red lines along his toned and tan chest. He bent his knees, placing his feet on the floor, and he begun thrusting up into you, meeting you halfway and causing you to jolt forward, using his torso as a support while your nails sank into his skin as well.

«Miss?» a sweet, concerned voice made you snap out of your thoughts. «Are you okay?» You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself with a deep sigh, before looking back at the old lady in front of you with a gentle smile.

«Yes, I’m sorry.» you offered, as you put the small ampoules and the herbs you just purchased into your basket. «I can’t remember if I locked the front door of my house.» you lied.

The lady’s eyes widened, her lips erupting into a knowing smile. «Oh, it happens to me too, an awfully lot of times!» You excused yourself, politely saying goodbye before leaving, and rushed out of the shop. Few steps later, you hid yourself in the partial shadows of a hidden hallway, and you leaned your back against the wall, the hand that was not holding your basket flying on top of your heart just to feel it hammering against your fingers.

Since you can remember, you have always had the gift of foresight, your visions always showing up unexpectedly. The most random visions would come up in your mind at the most unexpected times; sometimes you’d see that in three weeks, you would crave eating soup, sometimes you’d see your neighbour showing up at your door just to ask you out again – you were thankful for that so you could pretend not to be home. But recently, however, your visions were all about a boy. Most of the times, you’d see the two of you having desperate sex, and what confused you the most, was that after the visions wore off, it was as if you could still feel his touch and the warmth of his skin lingering on your skin. The worst part, however, was that you would never see his face. You only had a glimpse of bright golden eyes staring back at you in a luscious manner one day, the sight alone making your thighs tremble, but nothing else.

«What kind of person even has golden eyes, beside witches.» you muttered to yourself, quickly heading towards your house and trying to ignore the hand shaped warm feeling you felt on your waist.

The closest glimpse at his face came few days later, as you were still sleeping. Plump lips sucked on your lower lip, before biting at the soft skin rather roughly, pulling on it, so that you were following his movements as he drew his head back with a choked whimper. The distinct feeling of a warm, big hand around your throat made you turn in bed, unconsciously raising your hands above your head, resting them on the soft pillows. As the boy shoved his tongue between your parted lips, your eyes shot open. You abruptly sat up, blankets pooling around your waist as you stared at your surroundings with flushed cheeks. «Get a hold of yourself, you silly witch,» you mumbled to yourself, trying to calm down. «you will not touch yourself over a vision.»

Morning slowly turned into afternoon, and afternoon eventually turned into evening. The day went by rather smoothly without any other vision, even if your mind occasionally remembered some details about the previous ones and you had to shake your head eagerly in order to get rid of your intrusive thoughts.

Therefore, there you were, kneeled in front of your wooden coffee table with your crystal ball neatly placed in front of you. You used it anytime you needed clarifications about your visions, and sadly, anytime you tried to ask clarifications about the boy you’ve been seeing, nothing ever showed up.

Even if you were not expecting anything, you tried regardless, and this time, a faint image of sweet brown eyes turning into golden while suddenly assuming a little more feral shape, met your surprised gaze. As soon as the image appeared, it disappeared.

«Why do you always have to be so dramatic?» you mumbled, referring to your own mysterious visions as if they could actually hear you, as you through your head back on the couch behind your back, a dejected sigh escaping your lips.

«I’m sure I’ve said enough times I’m not interested in going out with you.» you answered back with a monotonous tone, your long skirt dancing around your legs as you were busy striding away from your insisting and obnoxious neighbour. It took you all of your willpower not to give up to the temptation of turning around and turn him into a small fly, but you realized he would still be annoying you. You quickly turned left, walking in the small and deserted hallway, and the only thing preventing you from falling back on your butt were two strong arms immediately locking around your waist, your skin suddenly feeling warm.

«You okay?» the boy quietly mumbled, only for you to hear. You nodded, a strange sensation of familiarity pervading your senses; as you were about to look at your mysterious saviour, your neighbour’s obnoxious voice interrupted what could have been a perfect and romantic first meeting.

«One date,» he said, «I promise you’ll ask for more.» Everything about him made your body itch with the instinct to punch him in his stupid face. You were about to turn around and actually give in to the temptation, when the boy acted before you, his arms shifting and now resting more casually – yet somehow still protectively, around your waist.

«Is he bothering you, love?» the boy’s harsh and protective tone made your head snap to look at him, and you almost fainted. Another wave of familiarity pervaded your senses as you slowly took in the boy’s handsome features.

“It’s him,” you thought, recognizing the boy that was holding you from your visions. You had all the confirmations you needed as his eyes shortly met yours, the sweet brown eyes’ your crystal ball showed you few days earlier staring back into your soul.

«You didn’t tell me you had someone.» the obnoxious neighbour spat with a venomous tone, once again.

«Did you even ask?» you spat back, slowly turning around in the black haired boy’s arms; whose now had his chin resting on your shoulder as the both of your stared at your neighbour walk away while muttering incomprehensible sentences.

As soon as your neighbour turned right and therefore back in the crowded street and consequently out of sight, the boy’s hands quickly leaded you into a deeper and hidden part of the hallway, hastily backing you up against the brick wall, anticipation and excitement growing in your chest as his sudden rough ministrations. His leg was between yours, and your hands immediately reached around his neck.

«I’m Minho,» he whispered, offering his name, desire transpiring in his tone as his lips repeatedly brushed over yours as he spoke; his lips crashed on yours, and you arched your back in a whimper because finally you could experience first-hand the touch you’ve been craving for weeks. You both felt as if your surroundings disappeared, and you were not about to grope on each other while hiding in the shadows of a public street. You and Minho kissed as if you have been doing it for your whole life, Minho’s lips leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck as his left hand travelled on your leg, lifting up your skirt as his hand reached higher.

«I’ve been looking for you everywhere,» he whispered with strained whimper against your lips, as his hand tightly gripped the soft flesh of your thigh. You realized one of the visions you had was about to happen, when Minho loosely wrapped his hand around your throat, before harshly biting at your lower lip, he slightly drew his head back so that you’d inevitably follow his movements with a choked whimper, as your hands snaked in his soft black hair. «I was about to go crazy if I had another vision.» Minho added, his eyes flashing a bright golden colour, before shoving his tongue between your parted and waiting lips. You kissed as if your lives depended on it, taking out weeks of pent up frustration on each other because finally, you were meeting your mate in real life. The kiss grew gentler as time passed; you went from desperately pulling on each other clothes in the hopeless attempt to feel closer, to gentle kisses while caressing each other cheeks between suddenly shy giggles.

With a final peck, you and Minho stopped your desperate kissing session, looking at each other with lustful eyes and gentle, wide smiles. Both your clothes and your hair was a mess, and you both decided to go to your house following some back hallways, Minho’s fingers intertwined with yours.

«If I have to get burned at the stake,» you explained, «I want it to be because I’m a witch, not because I had sex in public places.» Minho’s arm confidently draped around your shoulders as you kept walking.

«We both know you’re gonna love it.» he seductively whispered against your ear, and your cheeks flushed red. He was right, one of the first visions you had was about Minho fucking you against a wall and from what you saw, id definitely didn’t look like you were inside a house.

You introduced yourself as well along the way, and before you realized it, you were both sitting on your couch. Minho told you that he was happy to finally meet his mate. He explained he was a wolf, and that he and his pack recently moved near your village. Strangely enough, all his pack’s mates were witches, so he somehow expected you to be one as well; this was the main reason why he was not surprised about strange visions starting the day after they claimed the forest their territory. Once he told his pack about it, they all encouraged him to look for you.

«I was losing hope since I couldn’t find you.» Minho’s gentle voice explained, «But then we had the most cliché meeting, ever.» he added, with a soft chuckle. You nodded at his words, feeling guilty since you never looked for him; your visions would have come true eventually, you simply settled for waiting.

«That must have been quite intense.» you giggled, «I’ve had the gift of foresight since I was a kid, but I imagine that seeing random things out of the blue must have been strange.»

Minho’s eyes widened at your words, before nodding eagerly. «The first time I had one was while I was having a dream,» he explained, «I thought of it as a… Suggestive dream.» Minho’s gentle fingers reached out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. «The next time it happened while I was in my wolf form, I had to shift back because I was about to walk my way in your village not minding of the consequences of a wolf randomly showing up and looking for his mate.» you found yourself nodding once again, your hand reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his.

«We’ll probably share an awful amount of visions, from now on.» you smiled, furrowing your brows as you felt guilty for intruding his thoughts with your gift. Minho offered you the gentlest smile you have ever seen, and your heart soared. You let him pull you against his body, manoeuvring you so that you were sitting sideways on his lap.

«Honestly,» Minho kissed your shoulder, his arms securely holding your waist «All it matters for me is to be together.»

You smiled at him, murmuring a soft «It’s the same for me.» and you spent the night awake, talking about your lives before meeting each other.

Another vision you had in the past weeks, came true few days later. Minho was pounding into you from behind while pulling your back flush against his tan chest by holding your neck, his length sliding in and out of you with extreme ease due to how wet you were. Minho’s left hand fondled with your breasts as his teeth were busy biting your earlobe and leaving wet traces of kisses and bites along your neck.

Even if the feeling of Minho’s touch lingered on your skin anytime your visions wore off, always leaving you flustered, you had to admit that the faint lingering feeling did not felt even close enough to how intense having sex with Minho actually was. His hands were all over you, fondling and teasing your body while his length moved in a rough pace, drawing pleased moans from your lips as your head was thrown back on his shoulder. Minho’s hand reached up from your throat to cup your jaw, harshly moving your head to the side, both of you making eye contact with each other through the full size mirror near to your bed.

«Keep going, love.» he smirked, slowing down his pace to deep and slower thrusts. «I want you to look at yourself getting fucked.» you caught a glimpse of your completely fucked out expression – cheeks flushed red, your lips parted in constant whimpers and moans and your eyes glossy due to all the pleasure you were feeling, and you almost felt embarrassed. The feeling did not last long, as Minho’s grip went back on your throat as his length rammed into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over.

«I can feel you squeezing me, fuck, love.» Minho’s strained moan reached your ears as you made eye contact with his now bright golden eyes through the mirror. «I’m gonna come if you keep pulsing around me like that.» you teasingly smiled at him, raising a brow in silent challenge as your right hand squeezed his ass, sinking your nails in the firm skin, and your left hand reached out on top of the one he held around your throat. Minho kept kissing your neck, his hands still rubbing at your nipple, and your orgasm hit without a warning as he kept brushing that sweet spot inside you. You felt yourself leaking over his length, wetness trickling down your legs as you moaned around him, begging him not to stop. Minho happily obliged, continuing to fuck you while harshly biting on your skin, chasing his release. You shut your eyes, struggling to catch your breath as the post orgasm sensation wore off and waves of overstimulation made your body spasm on its own. Minho eventually pushed your body down, your head now pressed against the mattress and your hands desperately gripping at the blankets as the annoying sensation of being overstimulated subdued to pleasure once again. Minho’s fingers reached out to intertwine with yours in a tight grip, and you felt a new wave of wetness spreading between your folds as you saw his almost white knuckles in addition to hearing his blissed moans. Minho’s forehead rested between your shoulder blades as he buried itself completely inside you, coming with a loud moan. The feeling was enough to trigger your second orgasm, and you came with quick, consecutive whimpers of his name.

«Do you think all the vision we saw are going to happen?» Minho quietly asked you, as the two of you were now cuddling naked under you blanked draped over your waists, after you both cleaned up.

«They always come true,» You nodded, sighing at the sensation of his fingertips continuously and gently caressing your back. «It’s just a matter of time.»

Minho hummed, kissing your hair. «I can’t wait for you to ride me in the woods, then.»

«I can’t believe my mate is a pervert.» you giggled, feeling Minho chuckling as well while he held you closer to his body with a content sigh. «But honestly, me too.» you admitted, murmuring on his chest before pecking just above his heart.

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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