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midnight-mourning · 18 days ago

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Christmas Spirit

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 12❄️❄️

woof, now we're REAL behind chat, apologies was busy but also like, feeling unwell, but here we are! hope you enjoy :)

Prompt: christmas request! Reader doesn't care for christmas since their relationship with their family isnt great and nearly ever christmas since they moved out included multiple fights or screaming matches; they just want to have a positive association with christmas and don't mind working on a holiday at their crazy but chill job with their favorite animatronic coworkers. And these fellow coworkers intend to make sure this christmas is a postive one even if theres silly mishaps here and there.

Word Count: 2048

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When you realized the date this morning, to say your heart sunk into your chest was an understatement. Sure, maybe it was a bit dramatic to go from chipper and ready for the day, to dragging your feet out the door, but to be fair, this wasn't exactly your favorite time of year. So, you think you had a little bit of a pass.

Though, as you slam open the door to the Daycare just a tad too harshly, spooking Sun whilst he was mid-decorating, you cringe. Maybe not too much of a pass.

He shakes it off, however, bounding over to you as happily as ever. "Good morning Sunshine! And how are we today?"

You decide to brush off your mistake. Based on the current state of things, he's very excited about the coming holiday, and you'd hate to ruin that for him.

"I'm doing well, Sunny. And what about you? The place looks great!" You motion to how already, the Daycare is already well on its way to being totally decorated. It's impressive, to say the least. You left less than 24 hours ago, though he probably has a lot more time on his hands than you.

He puts a hand to his faceplate, waving the other bashfully. "Oh, we're just getting started! Would you like to help?"

"Ah, I don't want to um, get in your way at all." Not to mention even the idea of touching a decoration makes you want to fling it across the room. Despite how ridiculous a notion that is. You shake your head. "I'll just get stuff set up for the day as usual!"

Sun hesitates a moment, rays shrinking. "Oh, okay then! Well, if you change your mind, just let me know! Always happy to have your touch with these things."

You're too distracted by your own discomfort to acknowledge the compliment. Instead only offering a quick nod and a smile as you march over to the craft station and start preparing.

You'd hope that would be the end of things, but you weren't so lucky. All throughout the day, both sides of the Attendant seem to be ever curious about your thoughts on different holiday plans they have, asking your opinion on this or that. Whether they realize it or not, you can feel your weariness about the topic growing worse, and paitence wearing thin.

It was only a matter of time before you cracked, and it happens at probably the worst moment to do so; puppet time.

Sun decided to put on a Christmas themed show—of course—and had all but insisted for your help. Again, not wanting to cause issues, you agree. However, it's easier said than done.

"—And we all just enjoy the holidays so much, don't we friend?" Sun asks, ever in character with his hand puppet.

You chuckle, awkward. "We sure do!"

"What's your favorite part of the season?" His little character does a spin on the mini stage. "Mine is making cookies, oh oh! And playing out in the snow, and wrapping presents for my friends!"

For some reason the question—which should have been expected—throws you for a loop. "Oh, well, I don't really have anything in particular. But I'd love to hear more about your favorite activities!"

"Oh come on, everyone has something that's their favorite." He presses, unintentionally pushing your buttons.

At that moment all you can think about is all the years of arguing, fights, yelling. Family members bickering about things that don't matter, and yet, won't talk to each other for weeks afterward because of some minor slip of the tongue. Feelings of being isolated, alone, and utterly miserable creep in.

You can't help the words that slip out then. "Well, some of us don't like Christmas very much at all!" You say, voice over the top with fake cheer.

Sun seems to take the hint then and thankfully, recovers the show from there. You're a bit embarrassed to need the save. You didn't think you'd lose your composure over a silly puppet show, but apparently, you were wrong.

It's when you're packing things up to get ready for naptime that Sun broaches the topic once more.

"You, you don't like Christmas, Starshine?" Sun asks, voice soft.

You take a deep breath, then shake your head. "I, no, not really. No." You see Sun's rays shrink, and put your puppet-free hand up. "But it's okay! Really don't let me bum you out any. I'm sorry I lost my cool for a moment there. It won't, won't happen again."

Before you can speak on it any further, you turn away, heading to start getting naptime mats out and such. Had you not, you would have seen Sun's hand reaching out for you, concern and care clearly evident on his features.

After that little incident, neither Attendant talks to you about the holiday in detail again. You still discuss activities as usual, but they don't ask specifics of you anymore. You're relieved, but you do feel bad. You hope to make it up to them by having an easy day of work on Christmas itself.

Get some organization done, clean up some things that you've been putting off, that kind of thing. Hell, maybe you'll even tolerate some holiday music while you work too.

When you walk inside bright and early on Christmas morning however, Sun nearly jumps out of his skin upon seeing you. At least, you think he would have if he did have skin, that is.

"Sunbeam! Wha—what are you doing here today?" He rushes over to you.

You smile and start taking off your coat. "I work today, Sun. Obviously."

After removing your hat and scarf, you grab your apron, brushing it off once or twice before clapping. "So, I was thinking we tackle the craft closet first and foremost, and then go from there with all our usual stuff, that sound good?"

When he doesn't answer you turn, only to jump when you realize he's right behind you, rays flicking side to side. He takes hold of your shoulders and bends to your level.

"Starshine."

"Sun." You nod.

His grip tightens for a moment, then loosens. He narrows his eyes. "We, are not. Working. On. Christmas."

"Well I'm already here—"

He shakes his head, picking you up suddenly. "Nope. Absolutely not. I won't allow it. If you're going to be here then we're going to make this right."

"Hey! Put me down! Where are you even taking me?" You kick your legs in vein, now slightly annoyed. Before you thought he was just joking, but now you realize he's dead serious.

You get your answer when he sets you down in a bean bag. Taking a moment to snatch up a blanket with one hand and untie your apron with the other. Before you can blink, the blanket is laid across you, you have several Christmas themed stuffed animals surrounding you, there's a set of antlers on your head, along with a coloring book in your lap.

Sun nods once down at you, hands on his hips. "Now, you get started on that and I'll get you some hot coco. Okay?"

"What, but—"

But he's already off again, "Don't move~ I'll be just a moment!"

Deciding that you're better off to indulge for a little bit, as opposed to outright protesting, you do as he asks. And, while not your favorite thing in the world, sitting and coloring in the peace of the Daycare, holiday music playing softly around you, is nice.

Sun's gone for longer than you would have expected. Especially for just a cup of premade hot chocolate. But, when he eventually returns you do take the time to thank him for the quick break, that you appreciate the thought, and that you're ready to actually get started for the day.

Surprisingly—suspiciously—he agrees.

You won't admit to longing for the warmth of the cozy nest you leave as you stand, but the longing isn't allowed to last for long. Sun's hand is tightly wound with yours as he leads you out of the Daycare and towards the theater.

You take a sip of your drink, confused but still following. "Um, did you want to start with the theater's supply closet then?"

"Friend, when I said no work on Christmas, I wasn't kidding." He stops just short of the entrance, energy now becoming more antsy.

He lets go of your hand and you frown. "I told you it's alright, Sunny. I don't mind, honestly."

"I know! We know, but,"—he shakes his head—"We want to, change that. Make it up to you! If, you'll let us?"

He's looking to you now. You're hesitant, of course you are, but you can at least hear him out. "Sure, bud."

"If you don't like it, that's okay too! We just, wanted to try." He turns slightly and starts to open the door.

You open your mouth to respond but are instead taken aback by how pretty the theater looks. There's warm lights strung across the ceiling, decorations of red and green that sparkle. A medium sized tree with decorations laying nearby sits near the middle of the room. Snowflakes in all intricate patterns litter the space. There's a video of a yule log playing on the screen, and music softly twinkles around you.

While not as intense as the Daycare in terms of the level of Christmas-vibes, there's something more, comforting, about it. Something maybe a bit more familiar, that unlocks a memory you'd left behind back when you were much smaller.

"When did you find the time for all of this?" You ask quietly. You'd been in here just yesterday and it looked nothing like this.

Sun comes up behind you, hand on your shoulder. "Just now. We just thought that maybe something a bit more relaxed, but still festive, could be fun for you? We can decorate the tree, or, or watch movies, or dance. Whatever you would like, honestly. Whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" You look up to him, almost unable to speak.

He looks down to you and after a pause, wraps his arms around you with a nod. "No one should be sad during the holidays, Star. And it's, it's not our business why but, well, we just want to try and change that for a little bit. To try and make you a little happier."

The tears well up before you can stop them.

Sun starts panicking. "Oh! Don't cry. It's okay, we can just go back to the Daycare—"

"No, no it's okay, really." You sniff. Your reaches up to his faceplate, halting his fretting. "They're happy tears. I'm very grateful. And emotional."

He relaxes into your touch, but his tone is still concerned. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah I,"—you shake your head—"You know what? Let me just show you."

Without thinking further, you raise your other hand and pull his faceplate down to your lips. You release him again after a moment, giggling.

Sun's rays click, then—"Just to be sure, Moon would also like you to show him."

This causes you to laugh outright, and soon enough you're in the naptime attendant's arms instead.

You spend the rest of your day in higher spirits than you would have otherwise expected for the holiday. The attendant takes turns doing the various activities they planned with you. And maybe it's only because it's with them, or because of the new relationship you've found yourself in, but you find it all to be so much more bearable than before. More than bearable really, enjoyable. Truly and completely, enjoyable. For the first time in a long time.

"What are you thinking of, Star?" Moon asks as the two of you dance across the room.

You shake your head, smiling. "Just about how much I appreciate the two of you, is all."

"Just appreciate?"

You scoff. "I think you know by now it's more than that. Don't even think of trying to scam me out of more kisses."

He snickers in response.

Just the music for a moment.

"Thank you, guys. It means a lot."

Moon bends you for a dip, leaning in. "Merry Christmas, Starlight."

"Merry Christmas, Moon."

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Thank you for the request @pip-plz!! Was fun to take this and make something wholesome, esp as someone who hasn't always had a fun holiday experience myself, hope I did it some justice!

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Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml

#i keep giving sun the spotlight in these smh #my sun bias be showing HARD fr fr #fnaf dca #dca fandom #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #sundrop #moondrop #dca fic #x reader #mm dca december #writing requests

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hyunfilms · 1 year ago

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connected (hhj) | one shot.

—summary: a night alone at the bar leads you to a beautiful man named hyunjin.

—pairing: hwang hyunjin x f. reader

—genre: (18+) strangers to lovers | fluff, smut

—word count: 5.6k

—content/warnings: love at first sight kinda thing? soulmates if you really squint, was kinda inspired reading yung pueblo's poem (his poem isnt available anymore rip), cussing, model/artist hyunjin, oc and hyunjin are completely enamored by each other & hyunjin got googly eyes hehe, he is very sweet and a gentleman though, alcohol consumption, intoxication, kisses/making out, protected sex, praising, oral (f. receiving), fingering, sprinkle of spit play, ass-smacking, breast play, sprinkle of choking, missionary, doggy style 🤓 woof, multiple orgasms (like 2 lol), after care and cuddles, lightly edited so i apologize if i miss anything!!, very self-indulgent and just something i needed to write out 😭

—ON ROTATION: fwm - tone stith / for us - v

Sleepless nights.

It’s another one of those sleepless nights— for him, for her, for many people, for you.

Your business trip to Paris was coming to an end tonight; an early AM flight scheduled in the morning to bring you back to your beautiful, but also mundane life in California. Although grateful for the opportunity to travel here and explore for a week and a half, you were ready to get back to the familiar. The familiar places, the familiar faces, familiar routine. You sigh at the thought, finishing up your cocktail at the bar while scrolling through social media.

“Another one, miss?” The bartender comes to you with a small smile on his face.

“Please. Thank you.” You nod and reciprocate the smile, eyes now glancing around the room as you feel the alcohol slowly running through your veins. The bar was beautifully decorated in dark, elegant decor, lights dimmed throughout the entire room. Luckily for you, your hotel room was only a few floors up— making it incredibly easy for you to enjoy yourself and let loose; something you haven’t been able to do while being bombarded with coworkers and a tight agenda.

Your eyes fall onto the couple just a table or two away. They’re enjoying their drinks, though their eyes say they’re bored and over each other with the way they can’t keep eye contact for longer than 2 seconds. Then, your eyes fall onto the lady in the far corner who is typing furiously away on her phone. Your eyes shift to the gentleman all the way down on the other end of the bar, repeatedly looking down at his watch before bringing the phone to his ear for the umpteenth time; probably waiting on a date that never showed up when they said they would.

“Whiskey on the rocks, please?” Your eyes now fall onto the tall, attractive man that slides into the empty seat next to you— setting his bag onto the surface before letting out a heavy sigh. He’s in a black sweater, slacks and black chelsea boots, and you can’t help but notice how everything sits on his figure so, so perfectly. Hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, a few bangs framing the sides of his face; freshly shaved undercut. His tongue quickly swipes the surface of his pink, plump lips before he thanks the bartender and sips on his drink— you’re sure you’ve never seen anybody so perfectly sculpted.

Was this a cruel joke?

“Your cocktail, miss.” You thank the bartender again before shyly sipping on your second glass of the night, trying to keep to your own space.

“Sorry, hope someone wasn’t sitting here already.” He suddenly says, making you turn towards him. There’s really no one else around but you two; perhaps, another individual a few seats down, and that gentleman at the end still waiting on his date.

“Oh, um. No.” You give him a toothless smile. “You’re good.”

“Cool.” Is all he says before chugging the whiskey in his glass, asking for another round. “It’s been a long night. Wanna take a shot with me?” He turns to you again, licking his lips yet again. “No pressure.” You keep your eyes on him as you think about your next move. He is an attractive man, a harmless one at that.

It’s your last night in Paris, what do you have to lose?

“Sure.” You shrug. “Why not?”

“Nice to know you’re down.” He laughs a bit before calling the bartender and asking for two shots. “What’s your poison?”

“Tequila.” He pokes his bottom lip out before nodding in agreement.

“Two shots of tequila it is, then.”

“Didn’t you just down some whiskey? That’s a little dangerous.” He laughs before turning in his seat to face you.

“Don’t worry about me sweetheart, I’m staying here.” Crazy, you think. Out of all the times to bump into someone who is also staying at this hotel. “What about you?”

“I’m here, too.” You sip on your drink some more.

“Then we’ll enjoy it.” He flashes his pearly whites when he smiles. “Hyunjin.” He holds out his hand.

“Y/N.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” He caresses the surface of your hand with his thumb just as the bartender comes back with two shot glasses filled to the brim with tequila. The bartender points to your cocktail with a smirk.

“Need a refill to wash down the tequila, or do you need something else?”

“I should be good. Thanks.” He winks before tending to the others down the line.

“So, Y/N. Where are you from?”

“California. What about you?”

“Seoul.”

“Nice. One of my friends moved there recently.” You quickly think about Lola, hoping she’s doing okay. Mental note to send her a message on Kakao later. “What brings you here?”

“Mm, probably the same reason as you.” Hyunjin smirks.

“Work?” He nods.

“See. Already have something in common.” You chuckle a bit, biting onto your bottom lip. “How long are you here for?”

“I’ve been here for close to two weeks. I’m heading back tomorrow morning.”

“Shame.” He does a slight head tilt. “We probably could have had fun exploring together.” You cock an eyebrow up before letting out a giggle.

“You think I’d be fun to explore with? A stranger?” Hyunjin grabs his shot glass while gently pushing yours over to you.

“I mean, you were down to take a shot with me. Why wouldn’t you be?” He raises his shot glass. “Cheers, Y/N.” You take your shot glass and tap it against his, the both of you taking the shot to the neck. Hyunjin makes a face [that probably mirrors yours right now] before sipping on a soda as chase. You squint your eyes as the burn lingers down your throat, immediately reaching for your cocktail to chase the rest down— which is definitely not the best choice of action here.

But, you’re enjoying the night. The last night.

With a beautiful, beautiful man next to you.

“Atta girl.” He laughs.

“Haven’t done that in awhile.”

“Feels kinda liberating in a sense, hm?” He teases. “Since I’m working with a deadline here, let’s get another round going while you tell me about yourself.”

“Another?”

“Last. Promise.” He winks.

“Hm.” You hum. “What can I tell you?” You ask, even though you mainly mean that question for yourself. What can you tell Hyunjin that is enough, and not too much?

“Why someone like you doesn’t have anyone by your side tonight?” He shrugs. “Or, anything. Everything, really. That works, too.” Hyunjin runs his finger along his bottom lip.

“Someone like me? Are you always this forward?” You tilt your head, already starting to feel the shot and cocktail. You like the way his eyes are glued on you, you like the way he says your name. You like the way he’s being forward, you like the way he looks tonight. You like him, you take interest in him.

He is exciting.

“No, but it’s the deadline.” He reminds you, making you snort.

“Well. It’s because I just don’t have anyone by my side in general.” You answer his question with a chuckle. “Just a 24 year old in tech, visiting their Paris office for another project.” You swirl the stirrer in your cocktail. “What about you? What brings you here?”

“Just a 23 year old dabbling in some art stuff. Some Fashion stuff.” He laughs, red tint coloring the surface of his cheeks just as the bartender brings another round of tequila shots. “Nothing too fancy.”

‘It sounds fancy.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” He answers with another one of his cryptic responses, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Ready for round two?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” You mock him and he laughs, passing your shot glass.

“Cute.” He taps his shot glass against yours, giving you a nod of acknowledgment before you two are repeating the process— knocking the shot back, relieving the burn with some sort of chase, giggling at how quick the alcohol is hitting you both. You are drunk, and you should’ve eaten a bit more before this. Fuck. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“If you couldn’t tell already, I think you’re really, really pretty.”

“Is that so?” He nods cutely, and it makes you laugh.

“Mhm. So I mean it when I say I wanna know all about you.”

“You don’t give up, do you?” He shakes his head.

“Nah.” He smiles, bottom lip in between his teeth as he eyes your features. “So, what is Y/N all about?” He sits back a bit while his gaze lingers on you, your eyes. The tip of your nose. Your lips. Your long, beautiful lashes.

He is paying attention to every word that slips from your lips, watching your hand gestures as you quickly explain your family dynamics and how you’ve grown up in a quiet household— always remaining quiet, shy and kept to yourself even until this day. You tell him about your friends back home, how you love to stay at home and be a homebody, how you occasionally find the energy to haul yourself out for long, but fun nights with your girls. You also [drunkenly] stumble upon the topic of exes, which you don’t normally open up about right away. But you’re a few shots in, and it doesn’t help that Hyunjin is actually showing interest in you.

He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you, and he doesn’t plan to.

“Yeah, we’re not really friends or anything like that anymore.” You blabber on. “He blocked me everywhere. Which, you know—” You hiccup, a bit more drunk than you were 5 minutes ago. “I kinda don’t care because he shouldn’t be asking to look through my phone every time I go out. I fucking left after that. No sir, not me. No thanks.” Hyunjin laughs, endeared by how quick you’ve opened up to him. He appreciates it, and he does enjoy the way you talk about life; even if you may view it as simple, quiet.

“You’re right for having left him.” Hyunjin leans forward a bit. “It’s not fair, especially when you’ve never given him a reason to distrust you. You deserve better than that.”

“You think so?” You chuckle.

“Mhm.”

“Sorry, I totally went off and probably told you a lot more than you should know at this point.” He shakes his head. “What about you, Hyunjin?”

“No, I like hearing you talk. You’re very cute.” He laughs. “I’m not that interesting.”

“Really? I think you are.” You rest your chin on the palm of your hand.

“Yeah?” He smirks. “I just paint. A lot. I do some photoshoots. That’s all.”

“So are you like .. an artist, or something? A model?” He shrugs.

“I’m just Hyunjin.” He smiles. “But, I guess so? You can say that. I don’t have lots of friends, people oddly find me intimidating but I don’t care much to fix that either. I do stick to a few of them, we hang out often. I haven’t dated in awhile either, wasn’t really a priority for me.”

“Why did your last relationship end?” You internally curse yourself for fixing on that one detail out of everything else he’s mentioned. But, he doesn’t seem to mind. Spoiler: he doesn’t.

“Just didn’t click well like we thought we would.”

“I’m sorry.” He smiles.

“Don’t be. I like where I’m at.”

“That’s all that matters, right?”

“Yeah. Especially right now.” You cock a brow up, head tilting to the side again.

“Right now?”

“Mhm, with you. A few shots and drinks down, pondering on life. My kinda evening. Makes me not regret a thing about coming here.”

“You’re funny.”

“And you’re pretty.” He licks his bottom lip and bites onto it. His hand is only a few inches away from yours, pinky dying to reach out and pull your hand into his— wanting to playfully lace his fingers with yours. He’s not sure what it is, but he was drawn to you from the very moment he stepped into the bar. He smiled a bit to himself when he saw you people-watching, keeping to yourself as you sipped your drink and continued to scroll through your phone. You were totally oblivious to him from the beginning, and that was okay. Hyunjin wanted to quietly slip himself into the equation and find more subtle ways to talk to you, get to know you.

And he doesn’t regret a fucking thing.

He might be drunk, but he means it. He hasn’t ever felt this comfortable with a stranger, someone he met not too long ago. And that says a lot for him; it says a lot about you, your character. Meanwhile, you don’t think you’ll ever understand how someone like Hyunjin decided to waltz in and take this seat next to you at the time that he did. You’ll never understand the timing of everything, how the universe works and why it had to be a beautiful man like Hyunjin who found you first. But, you also don’t regret a damn thing, and you’re glad you decided to head to the bar tonight— especially alone.

When you meet Hyunjin’s eyes, it’s obvious that he’s feeling something— but that’s not the problem, no. You’re dying to find out what it means for the both of you tonight, how he plans to show you. Because you know he will, and that’s where the problem lies. What happens after that? When you both go along your merry ways?

“You know.. I think I’m just gonna call it a night soon.” You want to find out, but you don’t know if it’ll be good for you.

“Yeah?” You stand but find yourself stumbling on your own feet, letting out a laugh when you try to grab your things and keep yourself together. “Woah, pretty lady.” Hyunjin laughs with you. “How about I walk you to your room?” You pause. Fuck it.

“Okay, yeah. That’d be nice.”

“Alright, let me just pay for our tab—” He gives the bartender a look and gestures to close out the tab, his card already in his hand.

“What, no! Hyunjin.” You wrestle with your own wallet. “Let me pay for my own drinks.”

“Nah, I got you. On me.” He smiles sweetly. “Please.” You let out a sigh and surrender, letting him pay for the drinks before he stands and slips his card back into his wallet.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you. For being good company.” He gives you a toothless smile. “So, where to?”

“10th floor?”

“After you.” He bids the bartender one last farewell before following you out of the bar and out into the hotel lobby. His eyes can’t help but linger down your figure; eyeing that tight, itty bitty off-the-shoulder dress and the way it hugs your curves, black over-the-knee boots hugging your legs nicely.

Ain’t no way you were just planning on sitting at the bar looking that fine.

“Hyunjin?” You call for him as you both stand in front of the elevator doors, and he’s snapped out of his thoughts. “You don’t actually have to walk me. I can make it in one piece.” You giggle.

“Leave you alone while drunk? I don’t think so.” He chuckles.

“Hm.” You hum, eyes fixed on the elevator doors in front of you. Hyunjin stands right behind you— inches away, just close enough to feel the heat radiate from his body. When the elevator dings, Hyunjin gently presses his hand against the small of your back; pushing you forward into the elevator. The touch itself brings tingles down your spine, enough where it has you struggling to keep your composure. You lean against the back railing, while Hyunjin stands next to you— hand resting on the rail as he faces your direction. Your eyes meet his, and you feel yourself get weak in the knees;

So weak that your phone slips out of your hands, making a loud thud against the floor.

“Oops, shit.” You mutter.

“I got it.” Hyunjin laughs, bending down to grab your phone. You can’t help but watch his every move closely, watching as he bends down, large hand grabbing at your phone. He’s way too close to your legs at one point, and your mind wanders to what it would be like if he were in between— “Think that belongs to you, miss.” He teases, standing tall as he hands you your phone. “You sure you’re good?”

“I am.” Except, not. Because the elevator is ten times hotter than it was earlier, and it seems to be taking its sweet ol’ time getting to your floor. The tension is unreal.

“What’s on your mind?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can hear you thinking.”

“Mmm, I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean?” You pause as you look at him.

“I mean, has anyone ever told you how attractive you are?” You blurt out, alcohol definitely giving you that liquid courage to say anything and everything that’s currently running through your mind. “You just.. look like that.” He laughs.

“I could say the same for you, pretty. Trust me.” He leans forward towards your ear a bit, his scent lingering and trapping you in. “You wanna know something else?”

“Hm?”

“You make it very hard to not wanna kiss you.” He pulls back a bit to read your expression— almost like he’s giving you leverage to take it and run with it, or leave it. Everything in your court.

So, you choose.

And you choose by gently grabbing at his sweater, planting your lips on his for that first, initial kiss. His lips are soft and pillowy, just like you imagined. You only pull away a few inches, eyes darting from Hyunjin’s eyes, to his lips, back up to his eyes. He chases after your lips within the next minute, hand coming up to cup you by the neck; thumb caressing your cheek. At this point, you’re stuck to Hyunjin— lips seemingly not wanting to part from his. And you’re loving every bit of it so, so much.

You’re loving every bit of it so much that you don’t even care when the elevator takes a stop, doors sliding open for the man who was patiently waiting on the other side. He eyes the both of you before keeping his distance, positioning himself closer to the doors while scrolling through his phone. Hyunjin lets out a soft sigh in between kisses, completely wrapped up in your scent, your touch— you.

You’ve barely met, but right now, it feels like the world is at a stop; like it’s just you and Hyunjin at this moment in time. You’ll never understand it.

“Fuck.” He whispers against your lips before moving near your ear. “You’re driving me crazy.” He plants a soft kiss on your cheek before navigating back down to your lips. His other hand comes to your thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze before his finger teases the edge of your dress— Hyunjin keeping the kiss alive with your hands still gripping at his sweater. His hand travels around to give your ass a quick squeeze before pressing you flush against him; to be close to him, to feel him.

And god, do you feel him.

He takes this moment to tug on your bottom lip, making you let out a sigh. The man who stepped into the elevator is now a long-gone thought, no longer caring about his presence or the fact that he’s a mere couple of steps away from you two. But finally, the elevator dings again and flashes a bright ‘10’ on the screen. Hyunjin quickly pulls away to check the current floor before slipping his hand into yours and leading the way out of the elevator. As soon as the doors close, the both of you erupt in a fit of giggles while leading the way down the hallway to your room. As you fiddle with your bag and try to fish for your hotel keycard, Hyunjin plants feathery kisses along your neck, down to your shoulder— his fingers still teasing the edge of your dress.

“Finally.” You pout, making Hyunjin laugh before placing another kiss near your jaw. As soon as you step inside the room, you toss your bag aside and wrap your arms around Hyunjin’s neck, legs around his waist. He carries you deeper into the room, setting you down on the edge of the bed to continue kissing you. In between kisses, he works his way with your boots; gently sliding the zipper down before tossing one boot off to the side, then the next.

“This dress.” He gently pushes you down on the bed before peppering kisses along your thighs. “So perfect on you.” He nibbles on your inner thighs, then soothes the surface with his lips. “Can’t believe no one was trying to snatch you up.”

“Maybe it’s just meant to be, hm?” You tease with a playful tone. Hyunjin pauses and looks at you, a smile teasing at the corner of his lips before he comes down and presses another sweet kiss to your lips.

“Maybe I’m just lucky after all.” You feel his hand fiddling with the edge of your dress again, slowly dipping further. “You know, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can totally—” A kiss. “Just hang out and talk more—” Another kiss.

“Hanging out and talking more—” Kiss. “Sounds good to me.”

“Mhm.” He pulls away and looks at you, really looks at you, before brushing the hair away from your face. “I mean it. I don’t normally do things like this. I just— I don’t know.” He chuckles a bit. “I’ve been drawn to you since I walked into that bar.” It’s your turn to look at him, really look at him, and you do nothing but pull him back to your lips.

“Please keep going.” Is all you manage to say. Because you are also drawn to him, and you’ll never understand it.

But right now, you don’t want to try and understand it. You just want to take this moment for what it is, for everything that it is.

The intensity grows during the heated kiss, and Hyunjin is back to slotting himself in between your thighs, dress now pushed up.

“Can I?” He asks, and you nod— giving him full permission to remove your panties and toss them off to the side; feet propped up on the bed to give Hyunjin the best view. He doesn’t waste any time before he’s running his thumb down your slit, sliding two fingers in just to get a feel for you. He bites onto his bottom lip, reveling in the soft moans you’re letting out. “So wet for me.” He says before licking a stripe upwards, feeling your legs slightly jolt at the sensation. “Gonna take care of you.” He reassures you by running a hand up your thigh and gently squeezing it. He laps at your folds, sucking gently at the sensitive nub before repeating his motions and pumping his digits into you at a set pace.

“My god.” You whimper, hands resting on Hyunjin’s head. A gasp falls from your slips when Hyunjin removes his fingers and spits on your pussy, tongue spreading your wetness all over. You continue to grind against his mouth, picking up the pace when you feel yourself reaching your peak. The way he was taking care of you was heaven sent; incredibly heaven sent that with just another roll or two, Hyunjin manages to push you over the edge. “Oh— yes!” You blurt out as you come undone, your entire body going limp while catching stars.

Hyunjin soothes you through small pecks on your thighs, through gentle squeezes of the hips. He stands and hovers over you, giving you a taste of yourself when he leans in for a kiss— holding the kiss there momentarily. When you part, he watches as you take his hand, tongue circling around the two fingers that were just inside of you. He swears he almost loses himself at that moment, but he manages to keep himself together. Hyunjin moves you up on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable in between the tiny kisses he plants all over your body.

Chest.

Hands, fingers.

Collarbone, neck.

Lips.

He’s stripping you of your dress, just as you help him out of his sweater, his slacks. His eyes widen when he pops off your strapless bra, letting out a shaky breath before taking a nipple into his mouth— tongue working in circular motions and pulling back with a pop. You arch your back slightly and let out a moan, Hyunjin taking this opportunity to move onto the next bud and repeating the motion on it. You tease at the waistband of his boxers before he wrestles himself out of them; dick painfully hard and springing free. He lets out a moan when he feels your hand wrap around his member, pumping him a few times and watching the pre-cum leak from his tip.

“Need you.” He breathily moans. “Need you now, pretty.”

“Here.” You pause, grabbing the single condom from your bag on the nightstand. Hyunjin leans back on his ankles, laughing at the box you’ve handed over.

“So, why do you have this?” He smirks as he rips the condom open and begins to slide it down his length.

“Quit. My bestfriend shoved it in my bag as a ‘just in case.’”

“Tell them I said thank you.” You giggle.

“Shut up.” Hyunjin bites his lip before diving in for another kiss. Even as he breaks the kiss, his lips continue to graze yours as he lines himself up at your entrance— eyes glued to yours as he slips himself in slowly. He watches your eyes roll back and shut close, back arching; a silent moan leaving your lips. He continues to push, and push, until he bottoms out and lets out a shaky breath; giving himself a moment to adjust and keep his composure.

God, you feel good around him.

“Fuuuuck.” He moans. “Feels too good. So perfect.” He begins to slowly pick up the pace, hearing your slickness make those noises beneath him that drive him insane. You grip onto his chiseled biceps, pretty white polished nails digging into the surface of his skin. At this point, Hyunjin has found the perfect rhythm— sinking into you every thrust, feeling every inch, every delicate point that he can touch.

Deeply.

“Hyunjin, god. Please.” You whine and beg continuously, calling his name as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. The only sounds in the room are the sounds of skin against skin, wet kisses being exchanged in between and your names bouncing off of the walls.

“I got you.” Hyunjin feels you squeezing him, and it’s taking everything within him not to burst. He takes a hand to your neck and gives it a gentle squeeze, watching your tits bounce with every thrust he gives.

And he gives it all.

He sits back for a moment when he sees you starting to move your hips and ride against his movements. Another moan slips from his lips when he watches you roll your hips and work him from beneath, hissing when you speed it up.

“Such a good girl.” He says. Your moans become a little sharper, a little louder, Hyunjin now taking his thumb to your clit to relieve some of the tension. You begin to whimper, your nails digging a little deeper, and Hyunjin can feel your walls starting to cave. He continues his work on your clit before he's back to fucking you senselessly into the mattress.

“Right there— Hyunjin—” Your words are broken as you try to chase your high. “Close—”

“That’s it, pretty.” He says, praising you and egging you to tip over the edge. It takes a few more before Hyunjin sees your face contort in pleasure, back arching just as you tremble underneath him. “Shit, that’s it.” He repeats, feeling your walls pulse against him. He feels himself getting close to his own climax, so he quickly pulls out and has you flip over— face down, ass up. He wastes no time slipping himself back in, continuing at the pace he was just at even though you were still trying to recover from your last orgasm. Though a bit sensitive, the pleasure rebuilds quickly, and you’re back to begging Hyunjin to go harder.

Faster.

Which, he gladly does. He gives your ass a good smack, leaving his print while letting out a groan and gripping your hips. He calls your name, praising you for how good you’ve been to him tonight and how lucky he is.

“Y/N, fuck— gonna cum.” He breathes out, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he feels his coil threatening to snap. Sooner or later, a beautiful, melodic moan slips from his lips, his hands digging crescents into your hips as he falls onto you and fills up the condom. “You okay, pretty?” He presses a soft kiss on your back, your right shoulder.

“Mhm.” He removes himself from you, the both of you letting out soft sighs at the feeling. Hyunjin tosses the condom in the trash before racing off to the bathroom.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” He says as he grabs for one of your wipes sitting in the bathroom, cleaning you up before himself. You shyly head to the bathroom to finish up and change into something more comfortable— slipping into the covers while Hyunjin throws on his boxers. You’re not really sure what’s next, and to be honest, you’re a little unsure of how to navigate this whole one-night-stand thing.

Because of course you’ll have to. You leave tomorrow. This is the first and last time you’ll see Hyunjin.

It makes you a bit sad, for whatever reason.

“I-I hope you know you aren’t obligated to stay, I know you must wanna go back to your room—” He laughs a bit and turns to you.

“How about I stay until you fall asleep, hm? That sound okay with you?” Yes, yes it does. You want him here, and you want to cherish every last bit of this tender, intimate moment that you’ve shared with someone you connected with hours ago.

“Okay.” He slips himself in, comfortable in his boxer briefs and nothing else. You find this to be the cherry on top; the way Hyunjin pulls you in and allows you to lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat beneath you, the way he lazily throws an arm over you but keeps you close, the way that he just lets you be.

Hyunjin is connected to you. He is drawn to you.

The combination of the alcohol and exhaustion is now pushing you to fall asleep quickly in Hyunjin’s arms. He manages to close his eyes, afraid to move you or wake you— wanting you to get the best sleep possible before your flight tomorrow. You’ll never understand this. But tonight, you won’t try to. Because you’ll take this for what it is, for everything that it is.

You are connected to Hyunjin. You are drawn to him.

Hyunjin wakes up and finds your side of the bed cold, empty. Which tugs a bit on his heart, but he knew this is what it would come to— being it was your last night, and the two of you lived on opposite ends of the world. He honestly didn’t mean to stay last night, but he couldn’t help himself after seeing how peacefully you were sleeping. He’s not sure he understands it well enough, but he still feels drawn to you; even now, as you board your plane and take your seat in business class. He finds a tiny note on the nightstand with your name and number, and he smiles to himself— making sure to keep the note safe.

Hyunjin keeps the note safe for awhile. Safe to the point where he doesn’t do much with it besides look at the number every now and then before tucking it back into his wallet. He can’t find the courage to text you, call you, because he’s not sure what is left of you two after that night. What would he do from Seoul? What would you do from California?

It’s unfortunate, and Hyunjin really hates it. He’s not sure when he’ll use this. And of course, over time, you’ve wondered what you did, or why Hyunjin didn’t make use of your number. Though, part of you understood where he was coming from. So, you eventually learn to let it be.

Maybe there wasn’t a use for it, for all of this.

Maybe it was supposed to be a one-night thing, a memorable, one-night thing. A one-night thing that you keep for the memories, a one-night thing that you keep close to your heart– Hyunjin.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Hyunjin keeps the note safe for a while. Safe to the point where he doesn’t do much with it besides look at the number every now and then before tucking it back into his wallet.

Until months later, Hyunjin finds himself thinking about your note just as he steps onto the concrete floor and takes in the fresh air—

Eyes shifting to the California sunrise ahead of him.

—perm taglist: @ppiri-bahng @jihanlovic @meloncremesoda @sweetlikecherry @asjkdk

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wallflowerwritesstuff · 5 months ago

Text

You Chose: Rafayel

border credit goes to cafekitsune here on tumblr 🖤

Getting home had been surprisingly tame, the night passing without much issue.

The morning, however, was the polar opposite, the pain causing you to remain in the same position despite how uncomfortable it had become. You powered up your phone, having allowed it to die last night after your shower without realizing.

Then came the messages.

Ding.

Ding, Ding Di—

You snatch the phone from your bedside table with a whimper, finding that anger wasn’t appropriate when you could barely move.

So, slowly, you unlock your phone and peer at your texts, responding to each in order until you get to the most recent from a contact that makes you snicker inwardly.

-0-0-0-

hey

hellllllloooooo? you aren’t ignoring my texts now are you miss bodyguard?

have a good night. we can talk in the morning.

its morning you know. i’ll come over if you keep ignoring me. i mean it!

alright. bet.

-0-0-0-

It only takes your read receipt popping up before you receive an incoming call from Catastrosea, your head rolling as you move onto your back. Rafayel’s voice comes through immediately, beginning with a soft gasp and click of his tongue.

Ever the dramatic one.

“At least you had the decency to pick my call up since you’ve been avoiding my texts,” he says, sounding offended, a small chuckle following the words. “Just kidding, I know you Hunters are always off being good samaritans or whatever. But you are still my bodyguard, you know. How am I meant to go to events without my trusty protector making sure little ol’ me is safe?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, shutting your eyes again and breathing through the ache building in your temples. “Sorry.”

Rafayel pauses on the other line. “Woah, you sound….”

You can hear the ‘awful’ wanting to roll off his tongue, but instead, the sound of rustling is heard along with a soft ‘ow~’ and something falling. You perk up, on high alert until he mumbles about stepping on supplies, a small smile forming on your lips.

You weren’t the only klutz, apparently.

“You alright?” you whisper, earning a huff from the line.

“Are you sure you’re in a position to ask me that? I nearly thought someone stole your phone with how you sound right now,” he says as you frown.

“In bed,” you respond, not adding the and that’s where I’ll be for the next 3-5 business days for the sake of sparing him concern.

“What a surprise for someone as active as yourself. Not feeling well?”

You hesitate to answer, the slight rustling sound seeming to remain constant as you chewed on your lower lip. “...just wanted a change of routine, I guess.”

“Right,” he answered, not believing you for a second but not arguing. “On a scale from cat scratch to completely bodied, what state are you in right now?”

You laugh, but then you suck in a breath and curl into yourself. “Guess.”

“Completely bodied from that pitiful little whimper of yours. I gotcha,” he says too calmly, and you wonder if he regrets calling right now. He had probably been having a rather decent afternoon considering how jovial he’d sounded, but now he was awfully quiet on the other line. His mood had to have soured, but you had a hard time imagining he cared so much about your life to have it affect his own.

It was nice to imagine, at least.

Someone was knocking on your door like they wanted to tear it down. You hear a voice as you get closer, yawning as you tap on your door to see a screen pop up, revealing exactly who you thought it’d be, though he seemed to have brought company.

“Don’t scratch me or so help me, you little terror—!”

Your eyes light up as you open the door to meet a familiar pair of eyes.

Rafayel, with a cat in hand, pauses the moment he sees you. There is a flash of something you don’t quite recognize coming from him, but then he sniffs and tilts his head.

“Woof. You look even worse than you sound. It’s a great thing I’m here. I have a fantastic bedside manner.”

You lean against the doorway, managing a small smile despite your vision feeling like it was beginning to double. “Really? Because most professionals wouldn’t bark at their patients and say they look awful,” you reply, the cat jumping out of his arms to circle your ankles, purring gently. You feel your spirits lift ever so slightly, leaning down slowly as the cat sniffs your hand before shoving their head beneath it as if asking for your touch. “Just a bit of advice from someone with actual bedside manner.”

Rafayel brought a hand up to his chin, staring up at the ceiling before nodding once. “Hm, advice accepted, but as for that second part, I’d like to think someone with a bedside manner would know better than to bring me a singular apple when I end up hospitalized,” he sighs, staring down with a mischievous glint.

“It was the last and best apple!” you defend, feeling a bit of spirit return at the fact you had to constantly defend your poor apple—especially considering he had still eaten it!

“Yes, yes, I thank it for its sacrifice,” he brushes off with the wave of a hand, leaning down to match your level. “You seem more happy to see the walking weapon than you do me. How rude,” he mumbles into his knees as you snort.

“Haven’t you ever heard of therapy dogs? Well, cats have the same effect,” you insist.

He follows you when you attempt to stand, reaching out when you stumble with a small wince. Your lip stings when you come to, the realization you have sunken your teeth into it making him tense.

“‘M fine,” you murmur, but when you turn and nearly trip over your own feet, you hear him whisper something under his breath before feeling something warm against your back. “When did you…?” you ask in confusion, brow furrowing before smoothening out when the small action caused a sharp pain to shoot across from one temple to the other.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rafayel mimics from your earlier conversation, voice right beside your ear. The frown on his lips deepens as he looks around your apartment, searching. “Looks like I came at just the right time, miss bodyguard. I’m going to lift you, so brace yourself.”

Surprisingly, he actually gives you time to do so, and so you turn enough to grip the front of his shirt as the world goes blurry again despite his slow speed.

Maybe that head injury of yours was worse than you thought. You had been cleared and even waited to sleep as you were told, but a check-up may not be the worst idea. You did tell yourself you would go to the hospital if anything got worse.

A hand touches your forehead, and it’s then you realize you are lying on your couch, Rafayel sitting on the floor beside you with an unreadable expression. It felt familiar in a way, though when he caught you staring, he smiled and tilted his head.

“Admiring me only when you have a head injury? Should I be offended?”

“You should be quiet,” you say, lacking the heat that would have made such a demand an insult.

“Oh? I could always leave, but the terror would have to come with me,” he points out, moving to stand as you shoot up to grab him, whimpering as your head and body form an alliance to try and send you back into blissful unconsciousness.

“Gosh, no need to hurt yourself over a joke. I wouldn’t take them with me,” he teases, but his smile has become somewhat forced as he helps you return to your previous position. You want to say that you would want them both to stay, but the words jumble in your brain as he speaks again. “Stay here, will you? I have the feeling you won’t be conscious long if you keep moving so suddenly like that.”

The rest of the day is somewhat of a blur, you coming to in the early evening when the medicine finally kicks in. You open your eyes, your sight still dark until you remove the damp towel from your face. There is a soft purring on your belly, your hand moving to pet the sleeping cat gently. The lights are all off, and Rafayel sitting on the floor where you’d seen him earlier. He had some pieces of paper in front of him, a pencil tucked behind his ear as he pursed his lips.

Not wanting to disturb him, you watch quietly, every scratch of charcoal against paper paired with the soft rumbles of the cat’s snores managing to lull you back to sleep.

Before you could sink completely, you whisper a small thank you, not seeing the expression on Rafayel’s face grow conflicted, a mixture of frustration and concern unable to be hidden behind jokes and smiles.

“I don’t want your thanks, I want you to be more careful,” he mutters, the words falling on deaf ears, floating into the air before fading entirely.

When you wake, it’s the next morning and there’s a note on your coffee table along with a cute cartoon sketch of Rafayel crying and holding his hand while the orange cat licks his paw.

Thomas threw a fit about me disappearing. We'll be back. I won't make you wait. Promise.

-R

Want to explore some of the other routes?

Click here to return to the main post for a refresher.

Or, pick your other favorite love interest below:

Xavier

Zayne

Rafayel

Sylus

#love and deep space #lnds #lnds rafayel #l&ds #l&ds rafayel #lads rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader

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artdcnaldson · 5 months ago

Note

anyway unrelated.... those wedding pictures of mike… WOOF!!!

need to meet older divorced art at a wedding, one of his old tennis buddies is getting remarried and insisted art come, "it'll be fun! you can meet some people. we've barely gotten to see you since the divorce".

it's assigned seating and his friend had decided to play a joke on him and seated him next to me. a beautiful, much too young for him, tennis fan who's had a crush on him for years. it was meant to be a joke, mess with art a little, maybe get him out of his shell just a bit, but let him stay on the topic of tennis. but we hit it off really well, sitting and chatting the whole evening, maybe he even dances with me, spinning me around, hand firmly gripping my waist or my lower back. he feels dirty and a little perverted for letting himself flirt with a young girl like me. he's really much too old to be indulging me like this. but he can't help it. he hasn't fucked anyone in years, he hasn't gotten to be in control in so long, not since before tashi, not since his own youth. he needs to take control, and he can just tell i would let him, submission oozing from every part of me. big adoring eyes glimmering at his every move. i would do anything for him, he can't help but give in!!!!!

brings me back to his hotel room or maybe even just his house, fucks me stupid and silly till im a drooling, babbling mess. dress probably ripped or at least completely soiled on his floor. need him to get so lost in finally feeling in control, completely intoxicated on my submission. UGH. he's so into it, just completely condescending about how fucked out i am, as if he isnt purposefully fucking me even harder when i start to go dumb on his cock... i need it, need him to talk down to me and treat me like im stupid :( whilst also 100% being the reason for it, and only making it even harder for me to focus on purpose

-🐞

EXACTLY!!!! exactly <3

Wedding Art <333 Already he feels a little crazy because you're stammering and giggling at every word he says, struggling your way through full sentences because you're so starstruck by him. You're so young, over a decade younger and fresh out of college— one of the bride's work friends. Your dress is slinky and expensive, but it gives him a perfect view of your tits when you lean over to grab your drink off the table for toasts, or when he asks you to dance with him and he's looming tall over you.

You want him so bad he can practically smell your need dripping from every pore. He knows if he were to hike up your dress and slip a hand between your thighs, you'd be wet just from the tiniest amount of his attention. You'd let him do whatever he wants to you— you'd let him fuck you like he's dreamed of fucking since his third year of marriage, maybe even before.

So he takes you back to his hotel room, not caring that his tennis friends were going to give him shit for it in the morning. He was getting tight, young, needy pussy, and they weren't. You're so pliant, so eager— your cunt is soaked, slick smeared down your thighs from how bad you've wanted him. And he can tell you're a little embarrassed, how you hide your face from him and try to close your thighs. He doesn't let you stay embarrassed long. He needs to bury his face between your pretty thighs and eat your pussy until his jaw aches, or you beg him to stop. Whichever comes first.

When he finally fucks you, you're crying— sobbing fat, pretty tears as his thick cock stretches your cunt and slams against your cervix again and again and again. You've already come so much your body trembles with overstimulation— and your eyes roll back each time his cock grazes your sweet spot. All drooly and pathetic and face down on his bed, staining the expensive hotel sheets with your makeup.

It's so pathetic. He doesn't even realize he's said that out loud until you moan in response and babble yeah, yeah— 'm pathetic. You clench around his cock soaking wet and fucking obscene. He fucks you until words fail you and you can only babble and shriek and soak his cock further, until the sheets are soaked and your knees are practically in a puddle of your release. Until he finally cums deep inside your perfect fucking pussy.

#yeah <3 #🐞 anon

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tokiwarcube · 6 months ago

Note

charles lovers we have found a shepherd.... charles nsfw hcs? 🙏

OMG.... truly, this is the highest honor. I will serve to the best of my ability o7 Below the cut! <3

Charles… oh boy, where do I even start with him?

He’s a very flexible man in most aspects of his life — it comes with the territory, really. As such, he can come off pretty vanilla… at first. But after a discussion of wants and needs, boundaries and limits? He’s actually a bit of a freak, in the best way.

He’s a pretty firm soft Dom — prefers to top, but he can negotiate a bit on both subjects.

He gets a kick out of seeing you down on your knees for him, waiting, wanting, needy. Running his fingers along your jawline, grasping your chin between his middle and index to coax you into looking up at him. The reverence and wanting in your eyes in quite the boost to his ego, as is the needy whine that crawls from your throat as he taps the head of his cock against your tongue. Yeah, keeping you under his desk is one of his biggest fantasies. Whether or not he’ll actually ever do it is a toss-up — you might be okay with it, but as much as he loves the adrenaline rush of potentially getting caught… that risk is significantly higher, with the life that you two lead in Mordhaus.

On that note, he does very much enjoy a bit of exhibitionism. Pinning you against the wall, hand down your pants with his other against your mouth… Woof.

Loves giving head — As much as he loves to tease, there’s nothing he loves more than making you fall apart, and giving head is a front-row ticket to the event. He eats up every twitch and whine, and he can’t help the twitch of his dick when you tug on his hair. And he’ll chastise you for bucking your hips, sure, but that’s only because he likes seeing you struggle to follow the rules — secretly, he loves the feeling. He could stay between your legs for hours, if you’d let him.

This being said, any position where he can see your face is a must — missionary and cowgirl are probably his favorites, although he isn’t opposed to a bit of mirror sex in doggy.

He loves having you in his lap, and you can bet that if he’s pulled you into his lap in his office after hours, it’s only a matter of time before he’ll have his hand between your legs. He loves the way you cling to him, hips rocking against his own as he pulls you apart little by little.

Morning sex is a fairly frequent thing with Charles — it’s one of the few times you’re truly alone, which certainly plays a role, but also? He just loves the haziness that comes with that slow, just waking sex. It’s like falling in love all over again, to him. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love that sweet look in his eyes, mussed hair and all.

The closer he gets to orgasm, the more he loses his composure. He prides himself on being put-together, but slowly his words devolve more into pants, then throaty groans, and then straight back to hoarse swears as he gets closer, and closer, and —

Completely looses his composure when he cums — voice pitching higher with a strained “Oh God,” his orgasms completely wipe his brain of any coherent thought. Eyes rolled back and redfaced, its a sight you never get tired of seeing.

#metalocalypse x reader #charles foster offdensen x reader #metalocalypse charles x reader #dethklok charles x reader #dethklok x reader #metalocalypse cfo x reader

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frenchlatte · 1 year ago

Text

“You can call me whenever you want..”

[Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader]

[Modern!AU][AFAB Reader][No smut only Fluff]

Sighing to yourself, you checked your phone for the time. 10:15 AM. It feels like time can’t fly any faster at your job.

You worked at the most popular green coffee shop, and today it was slow. Seems like everyone wanted to sleep in! Grabbing a cleaning rag, you rubbed the counter for about the 5th time in a row today.

Hearing a drink’s ticket print, you grew excited at the opportunity to do something. It was easy, a small iced caramel macchiato. Finishing quickly, it became evident you were back to square one again.

Hearing the door give a small chime caused you to perk up. Eyes scanning forward you saw your favorite regular! Well.. favorite was a word. He made you feel flustered every chance he could, especially if he had been super chatty while you worked on his drink.

He was incredibly handsome, and always had a small smile on his face when he spoke to you. He had his spiky blonde hair down today, while he wore a white button up, tie, and slacks. His sleeves were rolled up to the forearm. Woof.

You let you eyes stare probably a little too long, as he greeted you and went to place his order at the register. He definitely caught you staring, but again when does he not..

His name is Rengoku, his usual order goes as a large iced hazelnut blonde latte. Replace the 2% milk for whole milk, and light ice.

He always wears nice business casual when he comes in, and seems to drive a really nice car. You wondered what he did for business, as the only thing he tells you is security. You thought to yourself, no security guard makes that much money.

After placing his order, he seemed to scuffle over to you pretty quickly. He waved, and smiled bright at you. You felt your face grow a little red with the new attention.

“Hey!! Good morning Rengoku, welcome back. I got your latte coming out soon.” I smiled back at him as I prepared his drink.

He waited across the counter patiently, “No worries Y/N! I’m so happy you’re making my drink. It always comes out the best from you.”

The compliment made me smile for two reasons, I was passionate about my craft and it came from him. My eyes went back to him as he spoke again.

“Have you had your 30 yet, did you wanna come sit with me if you’re able..?”

His voice trailed off a little, sounding less confident but still with a bright smile. His eyes were soft, but still piercing in a golden hue. He sounded nervous to ask you.

Your lips curled into a smile, butterflies swarmed your stomach. Whenever you could, you would take your meals with him. It was so fun to sit and just talk about nothing. You watched him across the counter from you fidget waiting for your response.

You topped his finished drink with a lid, and handed it out gently,

“Let me go check to see if they’re in a good enough place for me to take a lunch now! I’ll be right back Rengoku.”

His eyes brightened and he nodded excitedly with small words of encouragement.

You turned around to walk and see if anything urgent needed to be done, and if your team needed you for those 30 minutes. Without any reason to stay, you walked back out to the lobby and sat down with him.

“Alrighty they don’t need me. What’s up Rengoku, I feel like I haven’t seen you recently.”

You sat down directly in front of him, leaning your head into your hands. Your eyes met, and you smiled. Focusing your attention solely onto him. His posture straightened as you sat down with him, and you watched his hands subtly twitch. He was a very well sculptured man. His shirt clung onto his arms tightly, and his pants were tailored to him exact. He had a nice and assumingely expensive watch on his left wrist. He always dressed so nice.

“I feel the same!!” He said enthusiastically. “I’ve been working so hard recently. You’ve been on my mind a lot though, so I wanted to drop in as soon as I was at a stopping point. I hoped you hadn’t forgotten about me yet.”

He let out a low chuckle and scratched the back of his head. He was blushing softly, and so were you. This man always made you feel so special. You broke the eye contact and averted your gaze to the coffee he held in his hand. Your face undoubtedly had a nice red hue to it.

You shifted in your seat uneasily , “Rengoku, how could I ever forget about you? Even when you don’t come in I still think about you and wonder how you’re doing.”

His eyes widened slightly and you could’ve sworn you saw him tense, grabbing his coffee a little tighter than normal. His face broke into a grin, and he laughed a little.

“ Wow Y/N!! I didn’t know you could make me smile this big .”

Your face erupted into a hot blush, and felt uncertain on how to respond. He seemed to notice his outburst and rushed out,

“ Ahh I’m sorry that came out so forward… you’re blushing like a rose… you just…” he trailed off smiling at me with half-lidded eyes. He brought up his coffee to take a sip.

“no no it’s okay I promise.” A few giggles came out of your mouth, and time seemed to pause for a moment while you two stared at each other. You couldn’t break the eye contact, it felt so comforting and alluring in that moment.

In that moment, it connected for you. You are attracted to this man beyond his looks, but how he talks to you and treats you. When he would come in, he’d show you goofy dog videos on Tiktok. You both would chat about random things like broken patio furniture and make it interesting. He cared when you would seem different, asking about what happened and how he could support. He was .. great. You wanted more of this.

“Uhh hey Rengoku..”

He snapped back to reality.

“Yes Y/N!” He answered with a smile. His hand came up to brush a few strands of spiky hair out of his face.

“ This is so awkward but..” you hesitated, huffing a little and blushing again, fiddling with the sleeve on your shirt. “ I wasn’t wanting a relationship recently, but since you’ve been coming in I just.. have realized I have feelings for you. You always make me happy to be around you and I want more of that..”

Your eyes were shifted down at the table, and you squirmed in your seat. Your brain focused on the soft music playing in the cafe around you two, and you tried to not think about the man in front of you.

“Y/N !! You’re the only reason I come here. I find myself just wanting to see you every day, and I’m pretty sure you consumed 90% of my brain! It’s not awkward please don’t say such harsh things about yourself.”

Your eyebrows raised hearing his words.

You felt a large hand caress your face, it encouraged you to look forward and meet the eyes of a love struck Rengoku. His face was equally as blushed except he looked so happy to hear your thoughts. His eyes were glowing as he grinned. The other hand of his reached out in an inviting way for your hand.

You slowly lifted your hand to slide into his, and leaned into the one on your face. A smile broke loose on your face, and you said softly

“I guess you’ll be needing this then..”

You reached into your pocket pulling out a tiny post-it note square and a pen. You scribbled down your number and passed it to the enthusiastic male across from you.

His eyes beamed with delight, and he nodded.

“ absolutely Y/N. I’m so happy to finally have told you this.. it removes so much worry off of me.”

A small alarm came from your phone, signalizing your break was over. A pang of disappointment washing over your heart and face.

Rengoku reached out and gently cupped your face, smiling brightly.

“Don’t be so sad my little flame!! You can call me whenever you want to!!” His hand slid to your hair and gently ruffled.

Your face glowed, giving him a smile.

You would.

#rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyojuro x reader #rengoku x reader

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aishangotome · 5 months ago

Text

Roger Barel: Chapter 11

Chapter 10 Premium Story

♡———♡

From errand girl, I was promoted to pet dog, and Roger gifted me a lovely collar – I mean choker.

But that same night, I did something that was almost like being lovers, and now I'm holding a grand self-reflection meeting all alone.

(Ugh... Being with Roger always throws me off balance.)

Ale: Woof woof woof!

When I lift my downcast face, Ale comes running.

Kate: Oh, Ale. Hehe, you're awake? Good morning.

Ale: Woof. ... Woof?

Ale looks up at me with a puzzled look, as if sensing my troubles with animal intuition.

Kate: Hmm. Today, I have to write the overdue Fairytale Keeper report. And then...

*flashback*

Roger: Is removing the cursed from this world good, or is it evil?

Roger: You don't have to answer right away. Tell me when you have the answer within yourself.

*flashback over*

It's not just the almost-lover act with Roger that's been occupying my mind lately.

(The "homework" Roger assigned me that day...)

(With my current knowledge, I don't know nearly enough about the cursed to answer the homework question.)

Kate: This is something... I can only ask your master about, right?

Ale: Woof!

After submitting the report to Victor, I knocked on the research room door with Ale.

Roger: Oh, what are two dogs doing together?

As I approach, he tries to pet Ale's head with one hand and my head with the other, so I quickly dodge.

Roger: Oh, the rebellious phase?

Ignoring his words, I lower my head.

Kate: I have a request. Please lend me your research materials on the cursed.

Roger: Hmm, research materials, huh?

Roger: These materials are like my life. First, let me hear your intentions.

Kate: To find the answer to the homework you gave me, I don't have enough knowledge as I am now.

Kate: Also, since I was lucky enough to meet Crown, even if it's for a limited time, I want to face things seriously.

Kate: Whether being cursed is a good thing or a bad thing for Crown.

Kate: I thought I wanted to think about it with my own head and leave a record of it as a Fairytale Keeper.

Roger: ...You're the kind of person who cares about the cursed like that, huh?

Roger turns his back and starts gathering research materials on the cursed from his desk and bookshelves...

Roger: Here you go. I don't mind lending them to you.

He dumps a whole bunch of books, files, and even scraps of paper into my arms.

Kate: Wow, thank you! ...But, this much?

Roger: What, are you only brave at the beginning, lil' lady?

Roger's lips curl up in a challenging smirk, and I, the competitive fool, am easily provoked.

Kate: Don't be ridiculous. Absorbing this amount of material is a piece of cake!

Roger: Oh really? Then here's some more. Take this.

Kate: Ugh...

He dumps even more materials on me, and my arms grow heavy.

Roger: Learning new things and expanding your knowledge of the world is also a form of strength.

Roger: If you can read through all of this and absorb it, I might promote you from pet dog to assistant.

Roger: But, a sweet lil' lady like you might break under the pressure...

--CHOICES--

Don't underestimate me.

Are you trying to provoke me?

I'm quite capable, you know.

---------------

Kate: I'm quite capable, you know. More than you think, Roger.

Roger: Oh really? Now you're talking. Live up to my expectations.

(Geez...)

I stagger towards the exit, burdened by the massive pile of materials.

Roger: I'm counting on you, Kate.

Kate: .............

I glare at Roger as he opens the door for me, and then I leave the basement.

Ale: Woof!

Ale chases after me towards the door, but then stops and looks up at his owner.

As if to say, "Don't be too mean to her."

Ale: .............

Roger: ...That guy probably thinks Kate is one of his dog friends, not a human.

As the door closes, Roger chuckles to himself.

I leave the basement and head for the garden.

Kate: Let's change the mood and read outside, Ale.

Ale: Woof!

I sit down on a chair and start going through the research materials on the cursed that Roger lent me.

(I'm pretty sure all of Alex's research materials were confiscated by the police, right?)

(That means all of this is what Roger researched himself.)

The vast amount of material is all in Roger's handwriting, representing the days he spent on research – the time he's lived.

Kate: ...I'll read them carefully.

And with that, I turn to the first page of the research materials.

("The cursed" are humans who have been cursed since birth, and it is not related to genetics.)

(And I believe that it is not acquired but innate.)

(In other words, I believe that the cursed are "individual" mutations.)

The vast amount of material is made up of hypotheses, verifications, and resulting conclusions, and with each page I turn, I am surprised by new facts.

As I read through it carefully, not missing a single detail, my eyes are drawn to a certain sentence.

Kate: ... "The tragic fate that the cursed suffer cannot be changed. There are no exceptions in the past," huh?

Kate: Wait...?

In the blank space at the edge of the research material, I find scribbled writing.

"The more I learn about the cursed, the more absurd it is."

"It's like God's whim, and I don't like it."

Only that scribble, mixed in with the numerous research data written without emotion, revealed Roger's heart, and for a moment, my breath stopped.

He started researching the cursed since he was a child, and even now, he hasn't found a way to remove the curse.

(...How... daunting.)

His life is like walking alone in the darkness with no end in sight.

Ale: Woof woof!

Suddenly, I look up at the sound of Ale's voice.

Kate: Whoa. Ale, what's wrong? Roger?

I look in the direction of the voice, and the owner of the footsteps appears.

Ellis: Sorry, it's not Roger.

Kate: Ellis.

Ellis: I thought I'd give Ale a treat.

Ellis: Also, Roger said you were with Kate.

Steam rises from the offered mug.

Ellis: Hot milk. This is for Kate.

As I wrap my hands around the mug, warmth from the ceramic spreads through me, and a natural smile appears on my face.

Kate: It's warm... Thank you for your kindness, Ellis.

Ellis: I just want to make you happy.

As always, Ellis says this while petting Ale's head.

Then --Ale's hands stick together with a snap.

(Ah, Ellis' thorn ability...)

Ale: Woof?

Ellis: Sorry, I'll undo it right away. "It's okay now."

(Ah...)

Alex: ... Thank you. – "It's okay now."

At that moment, the images I had in my mind overlap, transcending time.

(Alex and Ellis' abilities are... the same?)

(That means...)

What came to mind was a sentence I had just seen in Roger's research materials.

("The curse itself does not die out even if the cursed person dies.")

("After the cursed person dies, it reappears after an unspecified period of time, but")

("People with the same curse do not exist simultaneously.")

(Then... does that mean Ellis became the "Thorn Cursed" after Alex?)

As I ponder this, fingertips touch the space between my eyebrows.

Ellis: I've never seen you make that face before.

Ellis: Kate, you're starting to look a little like Roger.

Kate: Huh...?

Ellis: Hehe, because Kate, you were making the same face as Roger just now.

Kate: What kind of face is that?

Ellis: The face of a child who is absorbed in something and desperately thinking about it.

Ellis: You're studying the cursed, right? I heard from Roger. Is there anything I can help you with?

Ellis leans in and peers into my face.

Kate: Then... would you mind telling me about how you and Roger met?

Ellis: Sure.

Ellis' twilight-colored eyes waver slightly.

Ellis: ...I met Roger before joining Crown.

Ellis: I was already assisting Jude with his company, but even then, Jude was resented by many.

Ellis: One night, Jude was stabbed with a knife and stumbled into the clinic run by Roger's father.

Ellis: Roger was there, helping out at the clinic – that's how we met.

Ellis: And, to get back to the story. At that time, Jude asked Roger, not his father, to operate on him.

Kate: Why?

Ellis: Because the reason for Jude's injury was always shady business, so ordinary doctors were reluctant to treat him.

Ellis: But Roger didn't have a medical license at the time and was looking for practice subjects for his surgical skills.

Kate: So... it was convenient for both of you?

Ellis: Yeah, that's right.

(So, he was performing procedures without a license back then...)

(I'll pretend I didn't hear that.)

Ellis: After that, Jude was often injured, and each time, Roger secretly treated him...

Ellis: That's how we started visiting him so often.

Ellis: When he found out we were cursed, Roger was really happy.

(I'm sure he was as happy as when he met Alex.)

Remembering the boyish smile he sometimes shows, my chest tightens.

Ellis: It was the umpteenth night that Jude was injured...

Ellis: We were having idle chat, Roger and I, beside Jude who had fallen asleep.

Ellis: That night, we were listening to the story of when Al was tested to see if he was cursed.

Ellis gazes into the distance as if recalling a memory.

Ellis: That "Alfons" guy. He forced you to eat shoe polish?

Roger: Yeah, he showed me an illusion. That's how I realized he was cursed.

Roger: But the price I paid for that was...

Roger: Every time I eat cake, I'm reminded of the taste of shoe polish.

Ellis: Hehe, that's a pretty big price to pay.

As they laugh together, Roger suddenly stares intently at Ellis.

Roger: Come to think of it, I've never seen your ability.

Ellis: Oh, is that so... maybe?

Ellis: Well then... I'm going to surprise you a little, Roger, sorry.

Ellis touches the top of Roger's head.

Then... his hand sticks, as if in prayer.

Ellis: This is my ability. If you poke Jude's forehead...

Roger: .....................

Roger: ...Alex.

Ellis: Roger?

Roger: Oh, no. It's just been a while since I've had an ability used on me, so I was surprised.

Roger: Ellis. You have the "Thorn Curse," don't you?

(...So Alex and Ellis have the same curse after all.)

Ellis: ...I wonder why Roger looked sad when he found out I had the "Thorn Curse."

Ellis: And sometimes he looks at me with the same expression.

(...It's not my place to tell him.)

Kate: Is that so?

Ellis: But I don't want to make him sad, so I don't pry into it.

Ellis: I want to make Roger happy too.

Roger witnessed Ellis' eventual demise, and that's why he doesn't want him to follow the same path as Alex.

(I can't easily say that we can avoid that outcome, though.)

Roger: I want to erase the cursed – from this world.

The voice that resurfaces in my chest tightens around my heart.

Kate: ...I'm sure just talking to Ellis like this makes Roger happy.

Ellis: Really? Even enough to kill for?

Kate: Th-that's not allowed!

--Ellis' curse seems quite complicated too.

After a few days, I finished reading the massive amount of material Roger gave me.

(Maybe I'll go borrow some medical books after I change.)

(If I have medical knowledge, I'll understand the cursed even better...)

That's what I was thinking when...

Roger: Kate, good news. We might have found a new cursed!

Chapter 11 Letter

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

#ikemen series #cybird #cybird otome #cybird ikemen #ikemen villains #ikevil translations #ikevil #roger barel #ikevil roger barel #ikevil roger barel main route #roger barel main route translation #roger barel translation

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maccreadysbaby · 1 year ago

Text

A Hundred Days to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: character death (no blood or gore)

wanna start from chapter one or read more? here’s the table of contents!

why are the most horrendous chapters the ones i write fastest smh. Also TIMMY is ACTUALLY in this one for realsies this time

part sixteen

❝ FAVORITISM ❞

FRIDAY — 3:02AM — DAY 34

BENTLEY WOKE UP TO TITUS AND ACE BARKING THEIR HEADS OFF. Which made him groan, since Titus had only been home from the vet for a week and a half, and he was probably getting into trouble again. Damian had already had to keep him from killing Jason after Dick made a gesture similar to the attack command, and had to stop him from eating an entire shoebox that came from who-knows-where.

Bentley found that it was a little past two in the morning when he glanced at his clock, aka the only glowing thing in his room. Maybe they were barking at the vigilantes returning home from patrol a little early — three was usually around the time he heard Damian’s door in the night. He settled into his blankets and laid there for a minute, listening to them.

Titus and Ace’s barks only increased in intensity and frequency as the minutes ticked by. Bentley stared at his ceiling and hoped that Damian would be home to shut them up soon — maybe they were hearing animals outside. It was probably the cow. He really hoped it was the cow and not his rotten luck summoning a burglar that was picking at the front door or something.

He was contemplating just trying to go back to sleep when the woofing was cut off by a crack, and a high-pitched, devastating whimper sliced through the air like a knife.

Bentley sat straight up in his bed, staring at the dim light reflecting from the hardwood under his door. His anxiety immediately skyrocketed and started buzzing in his veins again. Something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right and no one was home — they were on patrol. He hadn’t heard anyone come home. He always woke up when Damian closed his door. Sure, Alfred and Oracle were in the control room (what was it called again? Bat-Den? Bat-Room? Bat-Cave? Ah, yes. Bat-cave.) but it was far beneath the house and while Bentley’s father’s files were detailed, they didn’t tell him how to get there.

So he was on his own, he guessed. And one of the dogs sounded like they’d been pistol whipped.

He laid there in the darkness for a while more, watching the seconds flick away on his clock. He was highly considering hiding in the giant wardrobe for the rest of the night when a voice called, from somewhere farther in the Manor: “Bentley?”

It was Tim. His voice was different — strained.

Bentley quickly stood up, unraveling himself from his sheets and pushing his hair out of his face. He trotted up to his door and swung it open, but…

The hallway was empty. The dim light seemed to be coming from the stairs, because it was pitch black near the farther end, where Dick’s room was. It was cold in the hallway.

Bentley only worked up the courage to speak because he knew Tim was a superhero.

“Tim?”

“Downstairs,” Tim’s voice floated up to the second floor, a grunt following shortly after.

Bentley inched down the hallway. Why wasn’t Tim on patrol? Did they make him stay home with Bentley, or did they all come home early? It sure would suck to get benched from your crime fighting duties to be a babysitter instead.

Light was dimly shining from the foyer when Bentley made it to the top of the stairs and looked down. It was dark, but light was shining in from the kitchen and dining room. The windows around the front door were all pitch black. The pitchest of blacks Bentley had ever seen outside.

He did a scan for Tim, but didn’t find him. Not until his eyes landed on a red and black heap at the bottom of the stairs.

Oh crap, did he fall?

In his Red Robin gear?

Bentley found himself thudding down the stairs in a panic, nearly toppling off the last one as he gracelessly thunked down on his knees next to the teenager. His black cape was sprawled under him, but the cowl had been removed, leaving his hair and eyes exposed.

“Tim? Did you fall?” He asked quietly, hands hovering questioningly. Tim’s blue eyes were open but he wasn’t looking at Bentley. “Tim?”

Bentley tugged at the front of his suit and his shoulders, pulling his head up into his lap. “Tim? Tim, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

Tim didn’t reply. Now that Bentley got a good look at him, he didn’t see any blood or broken bones. His Red Robin suit wasn’t stained with any additional crimson, and everything was where it should’ve been. There weren’t any tears or gashes in the armor and nothing looked wrong with him. Nothing was happening at all.

He wasn’t even breathing.

Bentley yelped in surprise when he realized that, a surge of panic shooting through his chest and spiking through the rest of his body like a poison arrow. He grabbed the material of Tim’s suit with trembling hands and started shaking him, vigorously. “Tim! Tim, wake up! Tim! Wake up!”

His heart was beating so fast he could hear it pulsing in his ears, and hot tears brimmed at the bottoms of his eyes. Why did he come all the way upstairs? Why didn’t he stop in the cave?

“Tim, wake up,” Bentley pleaded, softly, clutching the older boy’s head against his shirt, trying not to look into his glassy eyes. “Please. Tim.”

He didn’t.

Bentley fell into hysterics, shaking him like a snow globe, like maybe, just maybe the movement would get his brain working again. He started — not just crying — but sobbing, loud and obnoxiously without reproach, all over himself and Tim.

But he wasn’t freaking waking up.

“Tim! Please get up! Please wake up!”

Something shattered in another part of the house, and Bentley jumped out of his skin, tightening his hold on the front of Tim’s Red Robin suit with a badly stifled sob.

Someone was in the Manor.

He hoped it was Batman, or Robin, or literally anybody that could help. Lots of Bruce’s kids had been brought back from the dead. They knew how to do it. Right? Because Tim wasn’t breathing and Bentley was pretty sure that meant dead.

“Bentley!”

He knew that voice, even if it was difficult to hear through his own heavy breaths and sobs.

“D…amian,” He murmured, voice breaking as he spoke. He shakily stood, letting Tim’s suit slip from between his fingers. “Tim isn’t breathing.”

Nothing. Bentley wasn’t loud enough, so he raised his voice slightly: “Tim isn’t breathing!”

Something else shattered — near the den.

Maybe it was the hope that someone would save the day that propelled Bentley forward, or maybe it was blind panic, he didn’t know. What he didknow was that he was heading across the Manor to find Robin so he could save Tim.

When he turned down the hall, the den lights were on. That had to be where Damian’s voice was coming from. He made for the door, staying close to the left wall and trying his best to keep his crying as silent as possible. It wasn’t really working.

“Damian? Help,” He whispered as he turned, stepping into the den.

The lamps were all on. The furniture was all nice, the books were organized, and everything looked perfect. The rugs on the floor were riddled with bodies, organized in a row from oldest to youngest — nine bodies to be exact. Alfred, Bruce, Barbara, Dick, Jason, Cass, Steph, Duke, and Damian. All suited up completely in their vigilante gear. All unbreathing, with glassy eyes that stared at nothing.

Bentley wanted to scream but all that came out was a wheezing, strangled whine. He grasped at his own shirt collar and, for a moment, he thought he might throw up.

“You couldn’t do the one job I gave you,”

Bentley whipped around with a shout, coming face to face with none other than his father. Red hair, brown eyes, perfectly pampered suit. He suddenly became very aware of how much he was still crying, and that he couldn’t stop. He could hardly breathe he was crying so hard.

His father took a step forward and Bentley stepped back, his foot catching on the edge of the rug and sending him thudding onto the floor. He used his hands and feet to scramble away instead.

“If you want something done, do it yourself, I suppose,” His father continued, sighing nonchalantly as he stepped further into the room. His brown eyes scanned the bodies like it was nothing. “It’s a shame you started picking favorites, though I see why you chose the ones you did — Robin and Nightwing fought hardest. But when one fell, the other fell with him.”

Bentley’s back thudded against a chair, and he pulled his knees up to his chest, digging his fingertips into his own arms with muted sobs.

“Those dreaded dogs were making too much noise, so I took care of them for you, too,” His father mused, gesturing to the hall with a practiced elegance, a salesman-style grace. “I would punish you for failing, but I feel like this is punishment enough. Maybe now you’ll learn that orders are orders.”

His father backed out of the den one step at a time, and then disappeared into the darkness of the hall.

Bentley silently grappled for the person closest to him, grasp tightening on the neckline of Damian’s Robin suit and dragging him toward him.

“Damian, don’t-“ His voice came in spluttering gasps between sobs. “Stop it. Get up! You’re Robin, get up!”

The other boy only stared at the ceiling above, and Bentley pulled him up onto his legs like Tim had been.

“Robin, get up!” He screamed, a pitiful sound that ripped its way up his throat with a painful violence. “Damian!”

“Damian!” Was what Bentley screamed when he yelled himself awake in his bed in Wayne Manor. He was gasping for air between his loud and embarrassing sobs, clutching the bedsheets until his knuckles turned white. They reminded him of Damian’s Robin Suit.

“Whoa-kay, Bentley. It’s… you… you’re awake,” Someone (Someone very notBruce, he recognized.) said from off to the side.

Bentley peeled his eyes open like they’d been superglued shut. The light in his room was already on, and someone was crouching next to his bed, staring at him with wide, worried blue eyes.

It was Tim. He wasn’t at the bottom of the stairs. He was sitting in front of Bentley in a giant red hoodie and black sweatpants, looking like he hadn’t really been asleep, staring at him like a deer in headlights, just like Bentley was staring at him.

He had a look on his face, like he knew all too well what Bentley was going through. Why did everyone look at him like that? “You’re not asleep anymore. It’s all over now.”

Tim wasn’t at the bottom of the stairs.

Bentley sobbed and peeled the blankets off of his trembling body, shooting straight off his bed, colliding with Tim with almost enough force to knock him flat over. He synched his arms around his neck so tightly he thought he might’ve been choking him, collapsing onto his knees and balling the fabric of his hoodie up in his hands.

Tim! Please get up! Please wake up!

He barely heard the surprised noise Tim made through his own crying, focusing solely on the fact that they weren’t at the bottom of the stairs.

After a quiet moment, Tim opted for rubbing Bentley’s back. He was stiffer under the child’s contact than Bruce had been. “It’s okay. I’ve… got you.”

Bentley stayed silent and buried his face in the thick material of Tim’s hoodie in a futile attempt at making his crying the least bit quieter. After another moment, the teenager stood, picking Bentley up simultaneously.

“Okay. Alright,” Was what he murmured while trying to move around with the kid latched onto him — he might’ve undergone superhero training, but he was still small himself, especially when compared to his brothers. He sat down on the bed, but Bentley stayed how he was.

Tim! Tim, wake up! Tim! Wake up!

“Shh, I know. It’s over now. It’s done,”

He tried to feel the fabric of Tim’s hoodie between his fingers like he’d done with Bruce’s shirt, but it made him think of was Damian’s Robin suit, and he cried harder.

Bentley eventually sank down into Tim’s lap, but he didn’t let up his grip on his hoodie — he might disappear if he let go.

“I’ve got you, buddy. Just try and breathe. Take a few deep breaths,”

Bentley obeyed. Or tried to, at least. He did the best he could while simultaneously crying just about the hardest he’d ever cried before. The kind of crying that makes your eyeballs and brain hurt. Thankfully, he was too caught up by his dream to revel in the embarrassment of humiliating himself in front of Tim.

(How many Wayne’s was it that he’d embarrassed himself in front of now? Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Jason? Did Dick count as two because he was Nightwing as well? Did Damian count because he could probably hear him through the walls?)

Thanks to his purposefully distracting thoughts and Tim’s quiet comfort, Bentley’s sobbing soon tapered off into sporadic hiccups and sniffles. When the tears had (mostly) stopped, he worked up the courage to whisper: “Please don’t leave.”

Pathetic, his father would say.

But Tim drew him in closer with a shaky breath of his own. “I won’t.”

Bentley wasn’t sure how long they sat there like that, or when exactly his eyes started getting heavy and his brain started getting foggy from his bout of crying. But he woke up again when his clock read six. The lights were off, but dim sunlight was filtering gently into the room. He’d been returned to his sleeping spot, the comforter had been pulled up over him, and the sudden urge to cry overtook him again because Tim said he wouldn’t leave and he did.

But that was fine. He probably needed to sleep and do whatever he did before work, anyhow. Bentley couldn’t expect someone to stay with him all night, to choose him over what they had to do. He was used to being brushed over in favor of everything else. Even asking Tim to stay was selfish and childish on his part, like he would just drop whatever he had to do to sit with a kid through the night. Bentley didn’t understand a lot of the things the Wayne’s did, but one thing he understood very well, was that he wasn’t half as important as anything else.

So why did it hurt differently when it wasn’t his dad?

Only when Bentley turned over in his bed (to cry about it, probably) did he promptly realize that there was a second lump under the blankets.

Tim was there, curled up under the comforter. He was facing Bentley. There was a laptop laying closed in front of him, and his hood was pulled up over his head. His arms were wrapped around himself and he looked… oddly young.

Every sour thought immediately faded from Bentley’s mind, and something warm replaced them instead.

He settled back into the blankets and closed his eyes, and drifted into another peaceful, dreamless sleep.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💛

—

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deliciousangelfestival · 1 year ago

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My Problematic Girl - Ch 9 | S.R

Character: College!Steve Rogers x Rich!Female Reader

Prologue: Steve has lived being nobody in this prestigious university. He just wants to graduate and get a job to get more money to pay the bills for his mother's surgery. But his life turned upside down when a new student attended his class. His quiet and dull life became dangerous and full of surprises.

×××

She exhaled the cigarette smoke from her lips. She still doesn’t care even though he told her he has asthma.

She looked at Steve and said, “Bark for me.”

Steve felt humiliated, and his pride was crushed. But she held his life and secrets. He had to bury his dignity to the ground, and he murmured,

“Woof.”

******

Any reblog, comment, and feedback are appreciated. I want to know what you guys think about this one.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9,-

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“You’re not joking.” Y/N was surprised to see Steve come here the next morning carrying his stuff. She didn’t consider him serious about joining her revenge on Solomon.

“You will stay in that room.” She put her reading glass on the documents and brought him to the guest room.

Steve looked around the guest room. There’s a bed, desk, mirror and wardrobe. He wanted to put his outfit inside the wardrobe, but he saw inside there already someone else outfit; for a glance, he could tell it was a male outfit.

Y/N notices Steve's curiosity since he is stuck looking at the clothes. “It belongs to my friend who sometimes sleeps here if he has a hangover. You can throw it if you want.”

‘She has a friend?’

He was surprised when he heard Y/N had a friend. Probably, he has the same personality as her.

After he had arranged his stuff, Steve opened the fridge to put the food he had brought from his place. He was surprised by what he had seen. He’s poor but will try to buy various groceries like meat, vegetables, and instant food. But inside her fridge, there are a dozen boxes of chocolate milk, and who put a box of mac and cheese in the fridge, and there’s nothing in the freezer.

“This is your food?”

Y/N picked one of the boxes “It already has calcium and vitamins. It’s enough for me.” Besides, Y/N doesn’t know how to cook and only orders a delivery, or Tony will send food to her.

Steve shook his head. “I will go to the supermarket.”

Y/N took a $300 bill from her wallet and put it on the table counter near Steve's “Here.”

Once again, she gave him too much money. But this time, he will spend all of it. After she gave the money, she went back to reading a document.

“What are you doing?”

“Reading my client's request.” She answered without looking at him.

“Oh right, you’re a lawyer, the one who does money laundering.” Steve replied sarcastically.

Y/N chuckled. “You’ll be surprised it’s not just me who does this.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows and asked, “What kind of lawyer who does money laundering?”

Y/N put a finger on her lips. “Cunning is necessary for this business.”

“Y/N you probably will be the only weirdest lawyer I ever knew.”

She giggled without feeling offended. “Glad to be the only one.”

Steve went back after he bought the groceries. This is the first time he enjoyed shopping without caring about money. After that, he returned to Y/N's apartment and started to cook dinner.

Y/N wasn’t keen on Steve's idea, “Just order a delivery.”

Steve was cutting the carrots with a knife on the chopping board. The knife he currently uses is of high quality, different from what he had. He wants to use the kitchen applicants in this apartment.

He waved the knife in his hand. “You just got a seizure; you need to eat homemade food. This time, listen to me; I’m holding a knife here.”

At Steve’s threat, Y/N scoffed, “That was the kindest threat that I ever had from someone holding a knife.”

Satisfied with her answer, he continued cooking while Y/N continued her reading.

After a while, Steve finished cooking. He put the chicken soup and garlic butter salmon on the table.

Before he called Y/N, she was already standing looking at the food. For her, it looks weird seeing someone cooking in the kitchen. Before her parents divorced, only her mother enjoyed cooking. Sometimes, she regretted not asking her mother to teach her about cooking. At least she could learn her mother's recipe.

Y/N doesn’t want anyone to touch the kitchen, but seeing Steve looking excited, she doesn’t want to kill his joy.

Both of them eat the food together. There was silence, but it wasn’t awkward. Because they enjoy it, Steve was impressed with the food he made today, and Y/N, it’s been a long time since she ate a simple home-cooked meal that gave her warmth.

When she stayed at Solomon, she couldn’t eat at all; it seemed like she got a stomachache every day. It is caused by stress. Since then, it’s easier for Y/N to drink milk than eating any foods.

Y/N put down the food utensils. “Thank you for the food.”

Still eating, Steve widened his eyes; he didn’t expect her to say thanks. “No worries. Thank you for letting me use the kitchen.”

Y/N hummed. She carried her plates to the sink and washed them. “I forgot to mention, you could use the kitchen, TV, and the space if you want to paint.”

Steve stared at her. Is it his illusion? Did he just see her being kind to him?

Steve was watching the TV in the living room. He wasn’t interested at first, but he always wanted to know how it felt like to watch a football game on 75-inch TV. When he turned it on, it was marvellous. His eyes were glued to it.

While watching, he smelled perfume from behind; he turned around and saw Y/N wearing a dress for a party. But why she’s carrying a gym bag? It doesn’t go well together.

“I'm going out tonight, don’t wait for me.”

“Where are you going? Don’t forget not to drink any alcohol.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. She closed the door and left. She is always like this, being secretive.

*******

At night, Steve was awake by a sound. It’s not loud, but the sound keeps repeating. He couldn’t recall the sounds, but he felt familiar.

Does it mean Y/N has come back?

He opened the door and saw Y/N sitting in the living room, her hands counting money. The sound he heard was from the money-counter machine. And the gym bag is beside her, but now there’s a lot of money inside the bag.

He rubbed his eyes. Is he dreaming or what?

Y/N felt someone was watching her. She lifted her head, and there he was, her new housemate. He looks dumbfounded, like a lost rabbit who enters the wolf’s den.

“What’s that?”

Y/N stared at Steve expressionlessly. It made him uncomfortable. Is this a borderline he couldn't cross? He should’ve stayed asleep and ignored her.

But then suddenly, Y/N called out his name, “Stevie. You’re really cute as shit.”

Steve was dumbfounded; in which part he’s cute?

Y/N tapped the stack of money on the table. “In front of you is what $500,000 in cash looks like.”

"Bank still opens at night?"

She chuckled while counting the money. "Don't be silly, I got this from gambling."

Her tone was playful, but he didn’t find this funny at all. Steve crossed his arms. When he thought she was good, the next thing she did always shocked him. He wondered if staying with her would be fine for his heart.

"Y/N, you play a dangerous game."

Y/N nodded, agreeing with what he said. She stops counting and looks at him, “You see, Steve. There's something wrong with me. I don't feel scared, guilt, lust and love. I love the adrenaline of taking a big risk.”

“I could see that.”

“You remembered my ex?”

The only man who made her uncomfortable was Brock Rumlow. Steve nodded.

“When we were together, I didn’t feel anything. And I think Brock knew that’s why he got another woman.”

Y/N liked being with Brock, but she noticed she didn’t feel any lust for him. She doesn’t want to kiss him or sleep with him. She tried using porn, a smut novel and even went to a strip club, but she doesn’t feel any lust.

She went to the doctor and learned she was diagnosed with impotence or female sexual dysfunction (FSD). The doctor knew Y/N's history, and she told her that her childhood trauma caused this.

Yeah, no shit.

“But I felt something when I saw your drawing, even though it's just a brief moment.”

Steve felt embarrassed when she mentioned the adult comic he made. Since he got paid, he didn’t continue the story. But what she said next made him want to dig the ground and hide.

“From the website, only your work triggered my lust.”

Y/N didn’t understand the reason why. She went to the doctor again and learned about Stendhal’s syndrome is a collection of intense physical and mental symptoms people may experience while or after viewing a work of art.

How lucky she was when she found out the comic creator was sitting beside her at Starks University.

Steve hides his red face with his hands. “Don't you feel any shame talking about this?”

She shrugged her shoulder. “Like I said before, I don't feel anything. I'm not embarrassed.”

“That's why you don't feel guilty for blackmailing me.”

Y/N smiled broadly. “You seem like the easy type to be bullied.”

Thank you for reading. I hope you like it.

You can tell me if you want to join the tag list. Don't be shy 😘💖💜💙

Any reblog, comment, and feedback are appreciated. I want to know what you guys think about this one.

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#my problematic girl series #steve rogers imagine #chris evans characters #steve rogers x reader #pre serum steve rogers #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfic #college!steve rogers #art college steve rogers #fanfiction #today on tumblr #steve rogers au #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel au

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morallygreyyn · 2 years ago

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crewel wearing those discreet collars in public PURRRRRRR

Crewel wearing necklaces with your initials on it

Crewel likes it whenever you'd place a hand on his back or on his snatched delicious waist in public

as much as possible, would want to eat together with you so that he'd know that you're eating well and not skipping meals

I FEEL LIKE he'd love to pepper kisses on your face and he'd love it when you sneak kisses on his neck

i feel like when crewel's expecting, he'd be super cuddly with u and every morning when you wake up, he's just snuggled up into your neck with his arms wrapped around you. and he'd snap at everyone except u bc mood swings lmao

THE WAY I AM BEING FED SO WELL 😮‍💨 these omega crewel asks are just reviving me so keep em coming and i'll keep him c.......you get the idea

crewel literally not giving a single fuck about his collar being shown in public and wearing a necklace with your initials?? oml the way he would show that off just to make sure everybody knows that he's taken 💅 sucks to be everyone else

oof there's something so possessive about wrapping your arm around his waist that he just adores you'd be lucky to get him to admit that tho and if you do that in public? oof yes grab him, manhandle him, pull him towards you by his waist bc he eats it up every 👏damn 👏 time 👏 in fact whenever you're out together, your hand is always on his waist

i am notorious for skipping meals so reading that made me aww verbally 🥹 he absolutely would want to spend every meal time with you and ensure that you're eating balanced meals - maybe crewel likes to cook? he is an alchemy teacher after all so i don't think that would be too much of a stretch for him lol - he won't drive but loves to cook, especially for you 😅 he'd probably just use the excuse that he made too much or that you can't cook for shit but it's all a front, he just loves watching you happily eat what he cooks

omgomgomg yes he would absolutely shower you with kisses especially in the mornings or late at night after you both had a very pleasant evening in bed 👀 he'd be so full of love for you that he just can't help himself but to pepper his beloved with kisses

neck kisses? those make his toes curl - it takes every ounce of strength he has not to become utter goo whenever you pay attention to his neck. i imagine that would be such a huge turn on for him, anything involving his neck would be a fast way to doing it either in the bedroom, or if you decided to tease him in public or in his office (bc surely he has one) crewel bent over the desk in his office wOOF

when crewel is expecting he's not gonna let you out of his sight for a moment, and that includes sleeping. his arms would be locked around you in a vice grip, his face snuggled into your chest or the crook of your neck and the sight of him sleeping soundly, face smooth and relaxed in the morning light leaves you unable to bring yourself to wake him. even after he wakes up, i can imagine crewel in no hurry to leave the safety and warmth of your embrace any time soon

mercifully his love for you spares you from being on the receiving end of his vicious mood swings much to your delight and the dismay of everyone around you

at this point i feel like i need to add crewel to my masterlist 🤧😂 not mad about that tho

we stay winning 😎💅

#disney twst #twst #twst wonderland #crewel x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland divus #twisted wonderland crewel #professor crewel #twst crewel #disney twisted wonderland #twst divus #divus x reader #divus crewel

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all-the-things-2020 · 10 months ago

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Late Night Talking - Chapter Ten

Summary: The aftermath of the movie premiere.

Word Count: 3150+

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mentions of parent death, issues with body image

Tag list: @rhoorl @avastrasposts @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @gwendibleywrites

We slept late the next morning. It was after nine when I crawled out of bed to use the bathroom. Dieter was still passed out cold, lying face down with his face crammed into a pillow, his bare ass poking out from under the covers. I took a look at myself in the mirror and wished I hadn’t. My hair was sticking up in all directions and there were bags under my eyes. It was a far cry from my red carpet look.

I decided to take a shower and start over with my hair, rather than try to tame it the way it was. When I got out, I slipped into a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, deciding to forgo a bra, at least for the time being. It was going to be a lazy day, after all.

Dieter was still asleep. I leaned over the bed to cover him up and he grunted. “Why are you so obsessed with my butt?,” he mumbled.

”I’m not obsessed with your butt,” I told him. “I just didn’t want it to catch cold.” I tucked the comforter around him and patted his bottom. “Go back to sleep, Deet. You’ve earned it.”

”What time?”

”Doesn’t matter. Go to sleep.”

He didn’t argue with me. I knew the press junket had been stressful and tiring. He deserved to get some rest.

I found my purse in the living room and pulled out my phone. I’d managed to remember to turn it off last night, so the battery was still at 65% when I powered it on. All my apps were lit up with notifications, but I went first to my texts.

SAM: You look GORGEOUS!!!!

ME: Aw, thanks. It’s all thanks to the stylists. Did my hair and makeup and everything. Felt like a giant Barbie doll. LOL

It was close to midday back East, so I knew she was probably at work and wouldn’t respond right away, so I jumped over to Instagram. I followed the studio’s page and I knew they would have posted photos from last night.

There were several pics from the red carpet, including one of me and Dieter. It was weird seeing myself all glammed up, standing beside him as he posed effortlessly for the camera. I could see that I was a bit stiff and awkward, despite the elegant dress and high heels. Still, I looked nice. Not bad for a first time, I thought. Then I started reading the comments.

She’s OLD.

Come on, girl, at least dye that gray hair. Woof.

Thought Bravo had better taste than that.

Def a publicity stunt. Prob trying to hide that he’s gay AF.

If they think we’ll fall for that, he needs a new publicist. Lots of actresses they could have hired to help his image. Barf.

I think she looks nice. For a middle aged woman.

There were positive comments, of course, many of them, but my eye went right to the negative ones. After all, most of the positive comments were simple heart emojis or “they look so cute” or other generic messages. The negative ones were more pointed.

I closed Instagram. Twitter would be even worse — there were so many trolls on there that I hardly ever posted anything anymore. Maybe tumblr would be kinder. I was wrong.

There were several posts under the hashtag “dieter bravo” that displayed one of the Getty photos from the night before and had commentary along the lines of “I’m glad he’s so happy” and “Aww, they made it red carpet official” but there was also lots that claimed to be insanely jealous of me for being beside him.

Oof, not to be that girl, but I could pull off a red carpet look better than that, just saying.

Not sure what he sees in her, but you do you, Dieter.

He looks AMAZING as always. Wish she’d worn something better.

She looks like she doesn’t want to be there. I’m sure it’s overwhelming and all but at least look happy to be next to him. I’d kill to be on the red carpet with him.

Ugh, I hate her, lol. Seriously, does anyone else think he’ll be back on the market soon? She is so not his type. Dieter fucking Bravo is a party boi.

I could feel tears stinging at the back of my eyes. It was silly — I knew they were making the comments out of jealousy or sheer assholery — but it was like being teased or excluded on the playground in elementary school. It still hurt.

Fortunately, my phone pinged with an incoming text.

SAM: Those stylists couldn’t have done it without something amazing to start with — YOU! I am so proud of you, chickie! You rocked that red carpet. And Dieter 🥵Don’t know how you manage to survive around him without spontaneously combusting. Dude is HOT.

ME: You don’t know how badly I needed that, chickie! Been looking at comments on social and people are brutal.

SAM: Fuck them. I’ve been bragging on you all day. Everyone thinks you look fabulous. Trolls gonna troll.

I smiled. Leave it to Sam to cheer me up. Then another text came in, this time from Simone.

SIMONE: Girl! You were on fire 🔥 last night. Your pic is all over campus. Kids are all planning to go see the movie with Miss Emily’s boyfriend this weekend. Eileen had such a sourpuss when I saw her, lol.

ME: Thanks! Been seeing some haters online so glad the kiddos got my back. And I’m ROTFL over Eileen 🤣

SIMONE: One of my kids was IRATE over some of the stuff people were saying about you. She was going OFF! I didn’t even know she knew where the library was, lol. If a 15yo can see through their b.s., so can you.

“Hey.” Dieter came stumbling out of the bedroom with his hair sticking straight up and one hand in his boxer shorts scratching his ass. If only the fans could see him now!

”Hey yourself,” I said. “You need coffee?”

He nodded as he shuffled toward the kitchen island. “I got it,” he said. “You looking at photos from last night?”

”I was, but people are mean. Then I got a couple of texts that cheered me up.”

”People are fucking assholes online,” he said as he dumped water and coffee grounds into the machine. He slopped water onto the counter but didn’t wipe it up. He was messier than usual when he was only half awake. “First thing Carmen told me when she signed on was never read the comments.”

While the coffee was brewing, he fished his phone out of his pants, which were draped over one of the dining room chairs. He slumped onto a stool at the island and started swiping. “You looked so good last night,” he said. Then he yawned and scratched his head. “Anyone who says different has their head up their own ass or is just jealous. Or both.”

The scent of coffee wafted through the air and a shaft of sunlight lanced through a gap in the vertical blinds. The kitchen was illuminated with golden light and Dieter’s hair became a halo of fire around his head, just for a second. Who gives a fuck what Prissy McDickface on Instragram thinks? I’m the one here with Dieter, watching him smile at pictures of us while he’s waiting for his coffee. And if Dieter could smile before his first infusion of caffeine of the day, I knew he was truly happy. Because of me.

*******************************************

The movie was a hit. It was number one at the box office that weekend, and Dieter spent most of Saturday afternoon fielding phone calls and texts from Carmen and his agent. He looked every inch a Hollywood star as he sat on a lounge chair beside the pool with his Ray-Ban sunglasses on and his phone up to his ear.

“Yeah, set it up,” he said. “Can’t hurt to meet with them.” He looked at me over the tops of his shades and winked.

”Shit, I can’t believe all this,” he said when he’d hung up. “Carmen has ten journalists lined up to interview me. And half of them are from legit outlets, not just bloggers.” He laughed. “Who knew a twenty minute part would get so much attention?”

We had skimmed some of the reviews online and most of them had been positive. Many of them mentioned Dieter’s performance as one of the highlights of the film; several had used the phrase “Bravo’s back.”

“And David has two meetings booked with producers this week,” Dieter continued. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself but this might be the thing to get the ball rolling again.”

“I hope so,” I said. I knew that Dieter really wanted to get back to the level he’d enjoyed earlier in his career, where he was taken seriously as an actor. He’d taken just about any part the last few years, just to keep the money flowing but while movies like Cliff Beasts might be popular with fans they weren’t taken seriously by critics. And he admitted he’d been phoning it in before he’d gone to rehab. This film was the first project he’d worked on since and apparently he’s done a very good job.

“Just don’t get too famous and forget about the little people like me,” I added.

“I will never forget about you,” he said seriously. “And you are definitely not one of the ‘little people’ in my life. You’re huge, baby.”

“Yeah, that’s what some of the trolls online are saying,” I joked.

“Fuck them. I’ve been with skinny women and it’s like hugging a skeleton. You’re real, Em. Nothing fake about you. Which is one of the many, many reasons that I love you.”

******************************************

We had finally finished off the leftover Chinese food, so we decided to go out for dinner Saturday night. Nothing fancy, just a little hole in the wall Mexican place that Dieter was fond of, and not just because the food was good. The owners were very protective of his privacy and didn’t laugh at his clumsy attempts at Spanish. His father’s parents had been born in Ecuador, and he still had some distant cousins in South America, but Dieter and his family had only ever spoke English.

”My dad can get by pretty well,” he’d explained to me once. “He does business with one of his cousins who lives in Buenos Aires, and he sometimes visits his aunt in Santiago, but Freddy and I never learned. Hell, I took French in high school just to fuck with everyone. Freddy took German, of course.”

Although they’d come from Ecuador, Dieter’s grandparents were descended from German and Italian immigrants. “My dad’s grandpa Antonio Bravo married one of the Diefenbach girls,” Dieter had explained. “Huge Romeo and Juliet vibes there. The two families were rivals in the button business.”

My own skill in Spanish was limited to the Spanglish I’d picked up by osmosis from living in Southern California (like Dieter, I’d take French in school, because I thought it sounded fancy). But everyone at Ramon’s was friendly and very patient with our attempts to do more than just ask for what was on the menu.

”Buenos noches,” our waiter said as we sat down at our table, tucked away in the back. ”El jefe said you get free margaritas because the movie is doing so well.”

”Gracias,” said Dieter. “Um, dos platos de empanadas, por favor. Y los margaritas.”

”Muy bien! And my sister in law saw the movie last night. She said tell you she really liked it if I saw you.”

”Tell her thanks, man,” Dieter had exhausted his capacity for Spanish already. He was still running on fumes from the press junket. I could see it in his eyes.

After a delicious dinner of empanadas and enchiladas — not to mention two extremely generous margaritas — we went back to Dieter’s place and collapsed on the couch.

”If I went there too often, I’d gain thirty pounds,” Dieter said, unbuttoning his pants.

“The food is amazing,” I agreed, glad I was wearing stretchy pants. “You want to put a movie on before we succumb to the food coma?”

”You read my mind.” He grabbed the remote off the coffee table. We were only about twenty minutes into Jurassic Park when I felt his head slump onto my shoulder. He was out. I maneuvered him into a more comfortable position so he wouldn’t wake up with a stiff neck. I never saw the end of the movie. I was tired, too.

**************************************************************

We lay in bed, both of us wide awake at two a.m. after our nap on the couch. “Whatcha thinking about?” Dieter asked, his hand idly playing with my hair.

”Not much. Just feeling cozy. How about you?”

”I’m thinking how I could get used to this,” he said. “Dinner, falling asleep on the couch, lying in bed talking about stuff … I wish you didn’t have to go back home tomorrow.” He kissed my forehead. “You know you can move in any time you want.”

”It’s tempting but it would be a hell of a commute.”

“Quit your job. Get a new one. There are plenty of schools. You’d still be in the same union, right? Still get your pension?”

I rolled onto my back. “Deet, it’s not that easy. There aren’t all that many school library positions out there and they pay well enough that people don’t leave. Or they’re part-time at elementary schools. And other positions … yeah, I could do other stuff, but your retirement is based off of your final two years salary. If I took a pay cut, I’d get less so I’d have to work longer.”

“Jeez, you sound like my dad and Freddy. ‘Be practical, Deiter. Plan ahead, Dieter. Invest wisely, Dieter’,” he grumbled.

”I have to be,” I said. “I only have myself to rely on. You know my parents didn’t leave me anything.”

Dieter sighed. “You aren’t alone, Em. You have me.”

”For now,” I said. “I want to believe this is forever, Deet, I really do, but I just can’t jump off the cliff yet.” I sat up, hugging my knees. “I know you think I’m being too cautious, and I know it probably hurts you to hear me say stuff like ‘for now’ when you want to hear ‘forever’ but …”

He sat up and put his arm around me. “I get it,” he said quietly. “I get you. And you’re probably right. I’m too much like my mom. I need you to balance me out.”

”You don’t talk about her much,” I prompted. I knew she had passed away not long after he’d won his Oscar, but that was public knowledge.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, I’m still working through some shit in therapy,” he said. “My mom … she was an artist. Painting, sculpture, stuff like that. And that was the love of her life. Art. Creating. And once she created something, she moved on. She wasn’t interested anymore once a piece was done.”

I kissed his shoulder. “You don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to,” I said.

“When she and Dad got divorced, she moved to New York City,” he said. “That’s why I went there for college. But about two months after I got there, she moved to Europe. So I went there after I graduated. She was in Italy, so I went to Milan. Then she moved to Madrid, then Stockholm — god, Stockholm was so freaking cold — and then I got tired of following her and came to L.A.” He laid his head on my shoulder. “I was going to visit her in Switzerland after I won the Oscar. She’d actually called me and said she was proud of me. But I had a movie to do first and … it was a car accident in the Alps. She and her latest guy were on their way to Venice and a dude in a Maserati blew a turn and crashed into them.”

”Oh, Deet, I’m so sorry,” My own parents had been ill before they passed, so I’d had some warning, at least.

He shook his head. “Hey, we’re supposed to be celebrating this weekend, not confessing our darkest moments. So let’s talk about something happy. Like my bank account after the movie earns out and I start getting some checks. We should go somewhere. Romantic getaway.”

”I do have a week off for Thanksgiving,” I said. My aunt always invited me up to her place for Thanksgiving and I always declined and ended up at some friend or co-worker’s Thanksgiving dinner. It was not my favorite holiday.

”Hey, see, making plans for the future.” He nudged me with his shoulder.

”It’s like two months away,” I reminded him. “Not that far in the future.”

”Baby steps, Em. Baby steps.” Then he kissed me and we stopped talking for a while.

******************************************

As I was driving home on Sunday afternoon, my phone rang. I usually don't like to use the Bluetooth, because it distracts me from the road, but I recognized the number. It was Sam.

”Hey, Sam, what’s up?” She rarely called; we both preferred to text. Our grown up version of passing notes in class.

“Just checking that you’re still alive after spending three whole days with Dieter,” she said. Her tone was joking, so I knew nothing serious had prompted the call. “Really, I just wanted to hear your voice. I saw the movie and it just doesn’t seem real that you and Dieter are … I mean, it sounds stupid, but I had to make sure you were still you.”

”I get it,” I said. “Hey, I’m on the freeway right now. Can I call you back when I get home? We can have a good talk. I’ll tell you all about the dress and the red carpet and … maybe you can give me some advice?”

”You better not be thinking of breaking up with him, Em. He’s the best thing that’s happened to you in a long time.”

”No, no, kind of the opposite. Shit, use your signal, you asshole! Sorry, some dude in a Tesla just cut me off. I’ve got to hang up. Talk to you when I get home, chickie.”

”Stay safe, chickie.”

I ended the call and tried to concentrate on the traffic. It was an incredibly long and tedious drive to make every day. There was no way I could keep my job and be with Dieter more than just on the weekends. And I would be foolish to quit for a guy I’d only known for a few months. Right?

I shoved the thought to the back of my mind. Sam would help me figure it all out. She always did.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x ofc #the bubble fanfiction #late night talking

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frothingatthemaw · 8 months ago

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OH MY GOD SUNNY THOUGHTS ON SILVER FOXVILLE. Or just him greying in general

she would love it so much. she would get all emotional sometimes looking at him beginning to gray while they lay in bed while she watches him sleep or while they talk or after they've had sex. or she'd look at him while they're in their backyard or on their back porch in the sunlight where the little bits of gray shine bright under the light. and when he decided to buzz his head and embrace the gray, she was stimming when he called her after he went to the barber. he called and said something like "i buzzed my head and i'm goin' gray!" (and she'd probably jokingly giggle and go "woof!") and he'd laugh because he knows just how much she'd been waiting for it to eventually come to this. he'd come home and she'd kiss him so much and tell him how pretty he looks. and when it all grows back in fully gray, she'd have a habit of staring at him over morning coffee and breakfast and when he was working in their dining room on his laptop or while he took a phone call outside. she always had this habit of staring at him from across a room, her chest blooming and filling to the brim with love for him. she'd shake her hands at her sides because of this feeling, so much love for him that she had to shake it out of her body. she always thinks he's the prettiest thing in the world. she's so happy he gets to be hers and that he's chosen to grown old with her and she loves that they made it so far and that he is still around. she loves him entirely so much and she's so happy to be able to do so

#ender.txt #askbox #oc sunny #sunville #mutual.rancid

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austajunk · 1 year ago

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ClockBolt for No.11?

I actually just played Desuhiko’s DLC last night and it gave me a pretty good laugh. So this one is for my love for this freaking idiot.

Fubuki asks Desuhiko for a favor. She would like to play with a dog for a bit and if he could just use his Disguise forte in a different sort of way to indulge her…well, who knows what she might do!

Triggers: Petplay, but trust me, this is probably as wholesome as I get when I write.

“Oh, this is so very adorable!”

“Woof woof!”

Fubuki couldn’t help but to laugh and clap as Desuhiko rolled around on the floor in his little doggy costume. He wore a pair of brown ears that clashed a bit with his fuzzy blonde hair, but it was just too cute for Fubuki to ignore. Every time he crawled back over to her and nuzzled against her thighs, the heiress wanted to fall to her knees and throw her arms around her short, fellow detective.

Or she would… if his cock didn’t flop so freely between his legs as he paraded around as a dog. Fubuki but her bottom lip, stifling a small giggle. When she said she wanted him to dress as a dog, she meant it. Desuhiko had stripped himself of his clothing and adorned nothing but furry ears and a tail. The tail, of course, was a bit of a harder fit, but after playing around with some lubricant that she found in Chief Yakou’s desk, Fubuki managed to fit the large plug between Desuhiko’s tight cheeks. He clenched his teeth harder as the fat plug invaded his puckered hole, reminding Fubuki of a growling mutt more by the minute. Desuhiko really was a professional who could get into character.

After the plug slid into his ass, he whimpered and rolled over on his belly, bucking to adjust to the girth planted inside of him.

Fubuki beamed at him on the floor. She was so very glad that she had come to Desuhiko with her strange requests that morning.

“You want me to be a dog, Princess?!” Desuhiko gripped his beanie when she had asked him. But after a few moments of convincing him just how special it would make her feel, the short superstar wannabe was practically eating out of her hand.

Maybe it was because being a dog got him plenty of strokes and caresses. “Thank you for doing this, Desuhiko! It has been so very long since I have gotten to play with a puppy!” She said, rubbing his belly. Her voice was like silk to Desuhiko’s ears and he couldn’t help but to groan happily. His cock twitched at those baby soft fingers tracing across his toned stomach. He was getting so hard already and it was…kind of embarrassing but Fubuki’s joyful laughter seemed to melt it away bit by bit.

Not to mention, the toy in his ass bounced inside of him with every mood he made. He was glad to be on his back and relatively still for now. “No problem, Princess. As long as you’re happy-“

Fubuki cut him off with a stare. “Doggies don’t talk.”

Desuhiko blinked. Then he flushed, another hot throb traveling through his cock. Geez. Who knew such a sheltered princess could be so damn kinky? “Er..woof! Woof woof!”

“There we go!” Fubuki’s smile returned. She whipped her long braid behind her shoulders and returned to stroking Desuhiko’s stomach.

“Ngh…” Every moment, Fubuki’s hands swept lower and lower until she was patting his curly mat of pubic hair. She was so close to touching him there and she just…wouldn’t! It was torture. His cock stood in attention, waiting for her to wrap those soft hands around him and caress him until he melted in her grasp. His mouth watered at the thought, but she seemed too absentminded in enjoying her new pet to care.

“Hehe… this is also pretty cute…”

Fubuki ran her finger under his shaft, watching as he quivered and whined. “It keeps standing up! What should I do about it? Is my little doggy sick?”

“Ah…aha…” Desuhiko wanted to cry out to the heavens and beg for the teasing to end. Shamefully, he was already oozing a wet dollop of precum to soak over Fubuki’s digit.

That was when a clever and devious idea overtook Desuhiko’s mind. If the princess was going to play with him like this, then he was going to just have to play with her back with her own rules. He rolled over out of her lap and pawed up against her voluptuous chest. Fubuki fell back against her bed in surprise.

“Huh-?”

Desuhiko gave a small bark and ran his hot tongue up the side of her cheek.

Fubuki winced and grabbed her cheek. “Oh my! Naughty doggy! What are you doing?”

In response, Desuhiko growled and whined. Like an eager puppy, he scratched at her chest until her top slipped under her heavy breasts. Those milky mounds slid free for him to kiss, lick, and suckle. The groans from Fubuki told him he hadn’t gone far enough. He needed her as wet for him as he was for her. He kissed her right breast and searched until his lips fit around one of her stiffening nipples. As he suckled and nipped her swollen nub, he urged her down to the floor beneath him. If he was a dog, wasn’t it okay to mount her like one?

“Ohh… ungh…” Fubuki squealed, her body undulating to his ministrations. He straddled over her chest and left a trail of loving kisses down to her core. With some quick work with his fingers, he slid her shorts and cotton panties down between her legs and lowered himself to her thighs. God, was this a dream? Desuhiko almost had to slap his hands to his face. How many times had he imagined going down on a beautiful woman and making her sing her pleasure back to him? And now it was happening.

“Huh…ngh…what’re you doing back there, Princess?” Desuhiko moaned. Something hot and wet traced the bottom veins of his cock. When he panted and glanced behind, he saw the sheltered detective craning her neck to run her tongue along his shaft. “F…Fuck…Fubuki…”

The tongue action ceased. “What did I say?” Fubuki jerked her head up, refusing to engage with him any longer.

“Ah! S-sorry! Woof! Woof woof!”

How else could he seriously beg for Fubuki to suck his cock? Well…he supposed he could always encourage her. While Fubuki formed a pout to her full lips, Desuhiko grinned and used his fingers to gently part her legs. Planting himself between her thighs again, his warm tongue drifted across her outer petals. He felt Fubuki flinch beneath him, something that sent wave after wave of satisfaction through Desuhiko. He grinned and gave her pussy a hearty kiss before burying his tongue inside of her.

She squealed and rolled her hips. “Oh-! Desuhiko…ngh…” But Desuhiko ignored her. It felt too good to make her weak for him.

His tongue found her swollen clit and gave a few flicks, savoring the way Fubuki moaned. If she wanted to make things even, she knew she had to continue playing with him as well.

As he sucked and nibbled her clit, Fubuki let his cock breach her lips. Desuhiko could barely choke back an animalistic groan as he entered the warm depths of her mouth. He couldn’t help himself. He threw his arms around her legs so he could stuff his tongue into her pussy. He licked in circular motions as her own tongue traced the open slit of his dick. The more she wriggled beneath him, the more he knew that was making her hover over the precipice of ecstasy. And he was about there himself.

“Woof…”

The way she threw her head back and the meeting of her juices to his lips told him that she had just met her release. Fubuki panted and sputtered across his cock, sending pleasurable vibrations through him that he could no longer ignore. “Shit-!” He pulled out from between Fubuki’s lips and shot his thick load down beneath her full breasts, staining them in his translucent, white seed.

The two laid there in the afterglow for a few moments, their chests rising and falling together. But Desuhiko reasoned that he had learned a bit more in the last hour about being a faithful pet than most. He buried himself between Fubuki’s legs to lick her clean.

“Ah! Desuhiko-!”

“Woof!” He grinned against her folds before returning to his work.

#master detective archives: rain code #rain code #desuhiko thunderbolt #fubuki clockford #clockbolt #nsft #nsft prompts #thanks for the ask!#writing prompts #my ficlets

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