#no idea what he’d name her tho.

[coatas]

gives him a creature to love and take care of. yknow. as a treat.

(close ups under the cut)

[targaryenluvs]

DELICATE

pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader

warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD

summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?

word count: 2.09k words

a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz

taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s

PART TWO

coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.

he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.

coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.

coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.

“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”

the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?

but right now you felt at ease.

you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.

coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.

and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.

so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.

“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.

every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?

he wanted to puke.

the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-

you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”

he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.

“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.

you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.

the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.

but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.

the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.

your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.

stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.

“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”

the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.

coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.

his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.

“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.

“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,

“you won’t be for long.”

you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”

he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.

“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”

this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.

coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.

would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.

you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.

his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.

corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.

your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.

you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.

[b1eedthefreak]

You Shouldn’t Have..?

Summary: Daryl gets reader a gift… (“gift”)

Warnings: None :3

⸻

Daryl Dixon had no female experience. That much was obvious to everyone around him—except maybe himself. But Carol? Oh, she saw right through him. The way his eyes lingered on you when you spoke, how he always gravitated toward your side during runs, the rare softness in his voice when he muttered your name. It was painfully clear, Daryl liked you.

The problem? He had no damn clue what to do about it.

“You keep starin’ at her like that and you’re gonna burn a hole through her head.” Carol muttered, arms crossed as she leaned against the porch railing of Alexandria.

Daryl huffed, looking away immediately, as if that would erase the fact that he’d been caught. “Ain’t starin’.”

Carol rolled her eyes. “Daryl. Just do something nice for her.”

“Like what?” He was already scowling, defensive, and completely lost.

“I don’t know, give her a gift? Women like gifts,” she said, exasperated. “Something thoughtful.”

Daryl scoffed. “That’s dumb.”

Carol raised a brow. “Right. Dumb. But you’re totally not interested in her, huh?”

“Shut up.” he grumbled, pushing off the railing and stomping away.

And yet that conversation stuck with him.

A few days later, Daryl found himself out on a run, alone with his thoughts and the distant echo of Carol’s advice bouncing around in his head. Do something nice for her. He didn’t do nice things for people. That wasn’t him. But you were… different. You were kind, always patient with him, always looking at him like he wasn’t just some rough around the edges redneck who barely knew how to speak without grunting.

Maybe he should get you something.

So, when he spotted a particularly plump squirrel while hunting, a lightbulb went off in his head. People used to give their girls food back in the day, right? Bring home the bacon or whatever? This was kinda the same thing.

Proud of his genius, he skinned and cleaned the squirrel himself, then wrapped it up in a bit of cloth before heading back to Alexandria. It was late when he got back, the sky a deep blue, the streets quiet. But Daryl didn’t care about the time. He had a gift to deliver.

So there he was, standing at your door, knocking lightly.

You groggily peeled your eyes open, confused at being woken up. Dragging yourself out of bed, you shuffled to the door, cracking it open to find Daryl standing there, looking—nervous? That was new.

“Daryl?” you mumbled sleepily, rubbing at your eyes.

His lips twitched, and then he pulled something from behind his back. “Got ya somethin’.”

Your gaze dropped to the bundle of cloth he was offering.

Curious, you took it, peeling back the fabric, only to be met with—

A dead squirrel.

Oh.

OH.

Your brain short circuited. You were still half asleep, struggling to process what was happening. “Oh…” you breathed out, blinking. “Um. Wow.”

Daryl was watching you expectantly, like he had just handed you a bouquet of roses.

“You gonna say thank you or what?”

You forced your lips into a sleepy but utterly confused smile. “Uh—thank you Daryl. I, um. Really appreciate it.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with your reaction, then turned and left without another word.

You stared after him, then back down at the squirrel in your hands. You had no idea what just happened.

The next morning, Daryl ran into Carol near the pantry, still feeling pretty damn proud of himself.

“Did it.” he grunted.

Carol arched a brow. “Did what?”

“Got her a gift.” he said, crossing his arms smugly.

Carol’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Oh? What’d you get her?”

“A squirrel.”

Silence.

Carol blinked. “A… what?”

“A squirrel,” he repeated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Big one too.”

Carol’s face went through a series of expressions before she finally settled on utter disbelief. “You—Daryl. You did not give her a dead squirrel as a gift.”

His proud smirk faltered. “Yeah. Why?”

Carol exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Oh my God.”

And just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, she heard a muffled giggle.

Turning her head slightly, she spotted you, standing just around the corner, hand over your mouth as you tried to contain your laughter. You’d heard everything.

When your eyes met Daryl’s, you just grinned.

“Thanks for the squirrel Daryl.”

Daryl felt his grin fade, a grumble slipping from his lips as he stormed off.

Carol just laughed, shaking her head. “Hopeless.”

⸻

a/n: i love carol sm sm sm sm

[ozzgin]

Hii I was wondering if u could do a yandere Kazuya x yn x yandere Daitou I’m not sure if u do character x yn x character tho

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader Spinoff

Two yakuza men who have fallen in love with their new foreign tenant. A what-if spinoff to the original story for that love triangle spice. Happy Valentine's Day!

Content: female reader, NSFW, organized crime, obsessive behavior, violence, BDSM themes (choking), threats

Credits: My boyfriend for giving me the Daitou smut idea

[Main Story] | [General Headcanons]

Kazuya is sitting on the sidewalk, checking his watch occasionally and tapping his foot. The cigarette seems to have been forgotten, hanging lowly from his lips.

"Sorry I'm late." Daitou speedily makes his way towards his friend, smiling awkwardly.

"Where the fuck were you, man? We don't know how much time we have before the cops arrive."

"Uh uh, leave it to me." The cheeky grin doesn't leave his face as he pulls out his gun and carefully but swiftly inspects the barrel and safety one final time. "(Y/N) needed some help with the mailbox. I couldn't just say no, ya know?"

The blonde man's eyebrows raise for a second, but he quickly recollects himself.

"I see. That's good."

"She asked me to show her the area tomorrow, so I'll be working extra hard tonight. Hehe."

"That's good."

Daitou glances at Kazuya, somewhat wary.

"You okay?"

Stupid question. What's he supposed to answer? Yeah, he loves waiting like a dumbass while his friend flirts with the new tenant, who conveniently happens to be a cute foreigner, who's been unexpectedly nice and relaxed around them despite them explicitly stating they're part of the Japanese mafia. Fucking hell. It doesn't help that this idiot is as obvious as a blaring, blinding cluster of ads smack in the middle of Kabukicho. He can tell from miles away that Daitou's completely fallen for her. Just like that, in an instant.

They've been partners and best friends for years now, so the natural reaction would be happiness, right? Daitou has always been one scary motherfucker. Even the seniors scramble when he's in the room, let alone women. For him to find someone that isn't bothered the slightest by his appearance or background should be a celebratory occasion. Kazuya should be rooting for him. Except, well, he fell for you just as hard. Tough luck.

The Bushido moral code, often used as guidance within their own lifestyle, covers matters such as loyalty and honesty quite extensively. A true warrior remains fiercely faithful to his master or companions. And yet, love interests are more of a grey area, especially if they happen to overlap. Who dictates the proper etiquette for this dilemma? To whom is loyalty directed towards? Truth be told, Kazuya couldn’t care less. He’s always been a man of vice, impulsive and greedy. If he wants something, he takes it.

The trouble starts when the other person is of the same mindset. Two ferocious predators eyeing the same victim.

***

You fiddle next to the tall, dark-haired man. Similarly, Daitou is avoiding eye contact, looking around in hopes of finding something to focus on. It’s the first time he’s come over since the incident. After his little mission with Kazuya, he was tasked to “interrogate” some of the remaining members to get even more names for the hitlist. He’d completely forgotten about his promise to show you the neighborhood. Hands sticky with blood, he was in the middle of his signature act of benevolence, putting the lad out of his misery.

It was around that time you decided to be the one picking him up instead, for your grand tour. Your knocks on the door remained unheard, however, so you decided to politely make your way in.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not-”

You froze in place. A man (you assumed at least based on the few visible traits left), tied up on the chair, canvas bag roped around his head. Daitou’s hands were secured around his throat. In the few seconds of silence, you could hear a muffled wheezing, as the stranger’s chest heaved in short convulsions.

“-intruding.” You mumbled, regaining your speech.

He messed up, didn’t he? Daitou sighs and slicks his hair back. He can’t blame you if you’re now terrified of him. He had to come over for some tenant checkups and you’ve been maintaining a safe distance from him during his entire visit. What can he possibly tell you? “Hey, I know I threatened to chop you up and you’ve now witnessed firsthand I’m a legit murderer, but, uh…I have a crush on you? Dinner at seven?”

You’re terrified alright, but not of his deeds. Rather, your newly discovered perversion as a consequence of the gory scene. It’s not that you relished in the torment of another. It’s the other details that left you reminiscing. Daitou’s imposing frame, the unbuttoned shirt revealing his traditional tattoos glistening in beads of sweat, his flexed, brawny arms, and large hands. You’re scared of your shamelessness. It can’t be normal. Yet you can’t stop thinking about it. Just a glimpse into this memory and your cheeks become burning red.

“I’ll be on my way then”, the yakuza announces politely.

Though he immediately stops in his tracks, and you realize you’ve unconsciously grabbed onto his sleeve. Uh oh. What now? You mumble an apology without releasing your hold. Being this close to him makes your heart drum inside your chest.

To hell with it.

“I might say something terribly inappropriate right now, but…”

“Sorry?” He stares at you, dumbfounded.

“Do you have anything planned after this?” You ask quietly.

“N-no?”

“Would you mind staying over?”

“Huh? Sure…w-what for?” His mouth is dry, and he searches your eyes in confusion.

“You know…” Choke me until I pass out and such, you think to yourself sarcastically.

He turns to face you, lips pursed awkwardly.

“You’ll have to be clear with me, Miss (Y/N). I’m not good with all this tiptoeing around and I might get the wrong idea.”

Your ears perk up hearing his final words, a deep blush now spreading over your flustered features.

“What wrong idea?”

Daitou fidgets with his glass prosthetic nervously.

“Well, uh, a man can only dream, ya know? Especially around a cute girl like you.” He reveals with a stutter.

“Suppose I’d be willing to go along with anything on your mind. What then?” You twirl your hair, gazing shyly at the floor. Not even you can believe the audacity leaving your lips.

The tall man steps before you, towering above with a certain gleam in his eye. It’s yearning. Your knees weaken.

“Don’t tease me, please. I can hardly control myself around you as it is.”

You release his sleeve and instead cling onto his shirt with both hands, looking up through your lashes.

“I’m dead serious.”

He ponders his next move with a click of the tongue, then cups your cheeks between his hands and lowers himself until his hot breath tickles your nose.

“Are you? There’s no going back after this. Can you handle it?” His voice is suddenly deeper, raspier.

Before you can respond, you feel yourself lifted and you yelp, surprised, instinctively wrapping your limbs around the yakuza. In between the greedy kisses that leave your lips bruised and swollen, you don’t notice the movement back towards the seating area.

As you pull away to gasp for air, he throws you onto the couch, flipping you over in the process so that you’re kneeling away from him. Your nails dig into the soft fabric of the sofa. You hear Daitou unbuckle his belt and you squeeze your legs together, heavily aroused. He presses his palm gently into your back, arching it. You sense his fingers grazing over your core and you whimper.

“G-go on, please.” You beg, swaying your hips tentatively. “I really can’t wait anymore.”

“As you wish, Miss.” He reassures you with a grin.

He adjusts himself and carefully makes his way in. You don’t have time to enjoy the feeling; following almost instantly is his belt looped around your neck, tightening under his grip as he pulls the ends towards him. Your head is forced back, and you groan. You can hear the leather stretch and creak over your assaulted skin, the constriction briefly cutting your oxygen intake. Hot drool trickles down your chin and your eyes almost roll back in pleasure.

“Look at my little Miss (Y/N), taking it like a champion.” He bends over and bites your earlobe playfully. “Does that mean I can be as rough as I want?”

You nod erratically.

The grip around your throat intensifies and your vision becomes blurry.

“Hey, don’t pass out now.” He inserts two fingers in your mouth, pulling you by the cheek and tilting your head to look him in the eye. “Not before you show me that you understand your situation. You’re mine. Is that clear?”

He drags his fingers downwards, aiding your response as you struggle to contract your muscles.

“Attagirl.” He concludes, satisfied.

In the morning you wake up with a dreadful soreness, and you can quickly see why. Your body is peppered in bruises. Daitou is smoking by the window and promptly flicks his cigarette out once he realizes you’re no longer asleep.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” He begins, remorseful, and squats in front of the bed. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“I will need a day or two to recover before the next time, but otherwise I’m fine.”

He beams with delight upon registering your words: next time. You can’t help but snicker at his childish enthusiasm. It’s a mystery how Daitou can switch between ruthless killer and cute partner with such ease.

Although it’s no secret, really. It’s you.

***

“Thanks for driving me home, Kazuya.”

You smile and unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for the door handle. Daitou has been busy with work for the past days, so Kazuya took his place in looking after your needs.

“Huh?” You rattle the grab handle one more time to make sure. “It’s still locked.”

The blonde raps the wheel impatiently with his fingers. Is he to silently accept his loss? Does it even count as a loss when he hasn’t even had the chance to present his piece? Daitou has been quiet about it, but he can read that bastard like an open book. Something definitely happened between the two of you and the mere thought drives him insane.

Ah, this is so unlike him. There are few things he cares about. His pride, his Family’s honor, his freedom. Women aren’t exactly on that list, yet somehow, you’ve snuck your way to the very top of priorities and he’s realizing it just now. It’s becoming harder to ignore his maddening urge to have you. Out of all the things…He’d give Daitou the world. But not you. He can’t. He can’t.

“Kazuya? Are you listening? You forgot to unlock the door.”

“Say, (Y/N) …ever fucked in a car before?”

“What?” You ask, baffled.

“Come here for a moment.” He swiftly slides his seat all the way back and pats his thigh.

“Are you out of your mind?”

He answers your inquiry by pulling out his handgun and lazily pointing it towards you.

“I’m only going to ask once.”

You clumsily climb over the center console, straddling the yakuza with a slight pout.

“Someone’s in a sour mood, that’s for sure”, you complain. “It’s not even loaded.”

“Even I’m not crazy enough to risk shooting my Princess.” He smiles apologetically, throwing the gun on the backseat. “I thought it’d be more threatening that way.”

He removes a strand of hair from your face, gazing at you intently. His hand lingers for a second, before sliding its way down, tracing the side of your body. You shiver.

“Can you truly blame me when there’s such a pretty girl right before my eyes?” The blonde exhales and focuses on your shirt instead. “Won’t you let me prove myself?”

From this distance, despite the dim lights, you can discern his features in agonizing detail. His long lashes, his fleshy lips, currently parted, the luscious locks of hair casually thrown back. Kazuya has always been effortlessly handsome. It’s not just his good looks, but his overflowing charisma. He always knows exactly what to say and do. A devilish power to have over people, and you’re presently his victim.

His slender fingers play with your first button and cheekily undo it. You can only observe it, entranced. Your legs are weak, and your arms are stuck in place, resting limply over his broad shoulders.

“May I?” He glances up at you with a pleading expression. “I won’t be able to hold back afterwards.”

You bite your lower lip, distracted. Whether or not this is a wise choice, you can’t currently tell. You squirm in his lap and suddenly feel the pressure coming from below.

“Go ahead.” You finally confess.

He doesn’t hesitate and slithers his hand underneath your shirt, popping the rest of the buttons open. Like a hungry animal that has stumbled upon a feast, he sinks his teeth into your neck, leaving mean, wet kisses on his way down.

One hand is greedily kneading your curves, encouraged by your soft whimpers, while the other strokes your thigh in anticipation. With a bit of readjustment, he finds the right spot between your trembling legs. You jolt at the sensation of his cold fingers.

“My, you’re already dripping. How lewd.” He whispers between breaths. “Do you want it now?”

He nonchalantly slips out and undoes his own pants. You lift yourself expectantly and let a moan escape your lips upon feeling the erection throbbing right below.

“Well then, can’t forget our manners, can we?” He announces, visibly excited. “What should I do?”

You glare at him, feverish.

“Stop teasing me.”

“Come on, be a good girl. Tell me what to do and I will do it, Love.”

Why, this…You lower yourself to his ear and answer in a lulled whine.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to fuck me.”

Words enough to send the blonde man over the edge. He abruptly clutches your thighs for support, easing himself in before continuing with increasingly aggressive thrusts. Husky whimpers roll out of his mouth, desperate and starved.

“Oh, I’ve waited so long for this. My darling, perfect little (Y/N).” He presses his forehead into your chest, indulging in the moment. “Now say that you’re mine. Please. Please say it.”

“I’m…ah…I’m all yours, Kazuya.” You manage to blurt out, growing dizzy.

“That’s my girl. Such a good girl.”

Once the deed is finished, you flop your head over his chest, trying to catch your breath. Kazuya smoothens your clothes meticulously, holding you with one arm for support. Can’t leave a lady all disheveled, after all.

“Won’t Daitou be upset?” You point out, somewhat anxiously.

His muscles are tense for a second and he furrows his brows.

“That’s one strange way to thank me for making you come at least twice. Mentioning another man’s name.”

“I’m just…” your words trail off.

“What? Worried? You think I can’t handle it or something?”

Far from the truth. Both Kazuya and Daitou are violent, dangerous men. Given their stubbornness, you’re rather certain they’d end up killing each other. Not your favorite outcome.

“I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”

He sighs loudly.

“I’ll tell you what. Under normal circumstances, I’d probably dismember whoever had the guts to even entertain the idea of meddling with you. But…just because it’s Daitou, I might be willing to share. Nothing more than that.”

Kazuya ruffles your hair and chuckles.

“Aren’t you glad I’m such a diplomat, Love?”

“More like batshit crazy, both of you.” You retort, stretching.

[supernova41st]

Hear me out... TF2 mercs with an easily flustered s/o, like so easily flustered even purring out petnames makes reader bright red and stammering like a school girl with a crush

Blush Crush! ᥫ᭡⋆࣪

Tf2 x Flustered!Reader

A/n: I know I made a poll and everything but this req was so cute I just had to make it!! I tried not to do the wattpad “her face was blushing bright red” stuff so I just said rosy a whole bunch. Enjoy!!

Warnings: None

Medic

❥ Definitely takes him some time to catch onto what’s happening.

❥ You had admired him from a distance since he seemed more attached to his projects than some lovey dovey crushes, but that didn’t stop you from yearning!

❥ Once it was your turn to take the Uber surgery your pulse had been rushing since you sat in that waiting room

“Let’s see.. your blood pressure is pretty good”

“Oh stopp! 🤭”

“..alright then”

❥ He did notice how rosy your skin gets when you’re in the same room, and whenever anyone mentioned his name.

❥ If he Ubers you you’re always on straight PANIC MODE.

‘gasp Oh my god. okay okay, is my stance good? Forget that-do I look good?? I don’t wanna die in front of him but I also don’t want to look stupid!! His eyes are practically glued to me right now! Oh, he’s dead.’

❥ Once he did catch up to what was happening he felt embarrassed himself for not noticing sooner since it seemed so obvious.

❥ Has no idea what to make of it, this guy spends his days experimenting on beheaded spies what do you want him to do?

❥ All of a sudden he was the one blushing and getting all flustered.

❥ He started avoiding eye contact while healing you, kicking the dirt all shyly 😭

❥ He’d deliver love notes via Archimedes, you can barely read it tho cuz he has that doctor hand writing <//3

Scout

❥ oh em gee 😒

❥ Don’t even get him started, he loves making you blush and giggle

❥ Scout is quite bold so as soon as he saw your face turn slightly rosy he became so flirty

❥ He’d do the classic lean against the wall type flirting before matches just to feed his ego before entering battle

“Yeah I’ve been hittin’ the gym recently, gotta get these babies ready for the summer”

“Oh wow! You’re so cool, Jeremy..”

❥ The rest of the team feels like a disappointed dad. “You could’ve done better” type shit

❥ Scout would steal your kills to look like he was “saving” you, you’re too flustered to notice

“Whew, you okay (Y/N)?”

“Oh my god, thank you Jeremy…”

❥ First date was at an arcade so that he could impress you with winning some claw machine prizes *he ended up losing 5x and you got him something instead

❥ Neither of you can get enough of each other, especially after dating. You two are always linking pinkies while the team goes over a plan of some sorts

❥ Y’all are that one hallway couple in high school.

“Alright team, we read- euah.. 😟”

“Sorry Engineer, just giving sum goodluck kisses”

“Eugh creepy, could you get neutered you dog?”

Engineer

❥ Engie does catch on to you being so flustered around him but he sorta doubts himself because he’s unsure if it’ll be a distraction from his work life.

❥ After a few weeks he thought “Hey, why the hell not?”, with how hard you were crushing on him, he was sure that soon enough you’d guys be together

❥ He is quite old fashioned, he’s the type to show up to your door step with flowers and would ask to go out for milkshakes

❥ On your first date he got you a bouquet of flowers he sculpted from metal

“Aww you got me flowers? How sweet..”

“Sure did sugar, my love for you oughta wilt away once it does.”

“….”

“..you good?”

You died.

❥ At least you were able to give him his sunflowers. His favorite kind!!

❥ He’s happy he was able to build up the guts to put himself out there again, he adores you, thinks you’re cute for the most part but also charming in a way.

“So do the sentries build themselves or?”

“Nope, I just gotta be quick with buildin’ then between fights, keeps me sharp”

“You’re so amazing Engie! I could listen to you talk all day ༯”

❥ You’re lucky he finds your swooning cute, otherwise he’d probably build some sentries to make sure you weren’t watching him sleep at night.

[hwallazia]

SILVER DIVE – 정우영

synopsis . in which you and your boyfriend enter an abstinence zone against your own will since he decided to get his lip pierced. the wait is worth it though.

pairing . jung wooyoung & fem!reader

genre . smut (mdni!), wholesome fluff at the end ofc, established relationship, non idol!au

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle @vampzity @iykyunho @yyaurii | apply to join my taglist ♡

word count . 3,6k

DISCLAIMER! dom! wooyoung, sub! reader, needles included for our wooyo to get his piercing done (well duh, but still goes as a warning), sex in the couch (they didn’t make it to the bedroom y’all), lots of kisses (like fr, they’re desperate for each other), desperate touches, creampie, cum eating, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (we don’t sponsor that here), dirty talk, praise, pet names (love, babe, youngie, angel & more), auralism? (idk, wooyoung’s dick twitches when hearing reader’s moans), explicit aftercare (doesn’t include showering tho heh), it is still a wholesome post-sex moment. lmk if i missed anything pls!

NIC’S NOTES i know i posted two days ago but wooyoung posted that pic on ig and… yeah that’s it, i have no more excuses. you can blame jung wooyoung. aaalso, this is my last post until my winter break ends *cries* textbooks, lectures and 5-hour classes await for me !! (pls save me). it’s not proofread, i’m way too tired to do so, sorry for any mistakes you may read!

wooyoung had spoken to you about his notion of getting a piercing, more precisely a lip piercing. and all you had thought at the moment was how hot he’d look with a silver ring wrapped around his plump bottom lip. the idea was excellent and so were the results. you had accompanied him to the appointment, limiting yourself to only lending him your hand to squeeze if he needed to because you definitely didn’t want to see the needle introduced to his bottom lip. wooyoung was amused by your action. actually, you were the one who was almost crushing his hand when it was supposed to be the other way around.

after torturous moments, wooyoung patted your hip so you could turn around. and the view did not disappoint you at all. “what do you think?” he modeled playfully as he cupped his cheek with his hand and his gaze turned somewhat innocent.

“fuck, he’s so fine” were the words your not-too-naive neurons expressed. and that was the head start for your mind to start playing your favorite nasty fantasies over and over. but still, your astonished reaction was more than enough for wooyoung to understand that if you were too stunned to speak, it was because he definitely looked good.

“guess it’s fine,” he replied for you in an amused tone, yet looking at you tenderly.

“you’re fine.” you blabbered before your brain could process any coherent information. blush striking your cheekbones as a wave of bashfulness consumed you in less than ten seconds. and you’re so glad that wooyoung is madly in love with you because he laughed at your idiotic, yet endearing state.

the prominent pink ink that drowned your cheeks provided all the clarity he needed to understand that you were ashamed of your words. so he continued with his healthy teasing to enlighten your mood. “i know right?” he posed once again, this time exaggerating a pout, pulling a cute giggle out of you. the urge to kiss him right there was too strong to fight, your hands moving on their own to reach his waist and pull him closer. wooyoung’s expression faded from fun-loving to mischievous, a smirk instantly drawn on his fleshy lips.

the author of your boyfriend’s piercing passed you by as he looked for something. but his features went from unbothered to slight worry, stepping backward in an amusing way, interrupting your adorable moment. his head appeared in the blank space between the both of you. “yah, jung wooyoung. you do know that you can’t kiss her, right?”

you and wooyoung rotated your face comically, confused features hitting you. “what do you mean i can’t kiss my girlfriend?” wooyoung was the first one to complain. that sulky voice he always used to get whatever he wanted being present.

“man, you got a piercing done less than ten minutes ago.” the piercer stated the obvious. “you can’t touch the piercing while it heals. constant rubbing or friction can irritate the skin and delay recovery.” he explained. “and i bet you wouldn’t want your dear girlfriend to kiss an infected lip.”

wooyoung gasped lightly just from the thought of it, a concerned look on his face while you constrained yourself to make a disgusted reaction. “that’s what i thought. so be aware of that.” he warned one more time before making his way out of the room to the restroom, probably to wash his hands. you and your boyfriend dedicated to staring at each other sadly, but the specialist’s voice interrupted you once again. “oh i almost forgot” he turned his body to meet your distant figures slightly darkened since you were behind the clear glass wall which reflected seoul’s bright sunlight. “most piercings heal within six weeks, so..” he saw your disturbed features and knew better than to stay there longer. “good luck!” he wished the both of you before disappearing behind the door.

the week after that appointment was hell. if you thought wooyoung was whiny and a sulky baby 24/7, he proved you wrong. countless times you had been so close to kissing but instantly reminded of the piercer’s words, forcing you to take a step back. the ignited fire you both created every time now disappeared against your own will.

“okay but. only one kiss.” he had said once, pleading eyes meeting your just-showered figure. the fact that he was just a towel away from touching your perfect core was consuming him little by little. you stopped your movement after hearing his petition.

“babe, you know we can’t.” you got closer to his pouty face, caressing his cheekbone affectionately. lips only a few inches away from each other. “don’t make it harder than it already is, youngie.”

he pulled off your touch, throwing his back against the mattress as he whined childishly. “ughhh, this is unbearable! do i really have to wait five more weeks until i can kiss you again?” he complained again, his eyes dancing on the edge of a waterfall.

“don’t wanna break it to you but you were the one who decided to get a lip pierced.” your reminder struck a lighting of pain against his memory. an even louder mewl from wooyoung bounced off the walls. a sweet smile painting on your face, “we only have to endure for five more weeks. we’re stronger than that, jung wooyoung!”

your radiant cheer made his heart swell. “you’re right, love.” he got up, straightening his back and pulling you into a much-needed hug, his chin resting on your shoulder to avoid the silver ring rubbing against your skin.

after a few moments of adoration and mildness, you unlinked your arms to stare at each other, glittered hearts falling from your beaming irises. but wooyoung spoke. “can’t wait for this to heal and kiss the shit out of you.”

your face seemed amusing to him since he choked an adorable giggle that you would’ve loved to hear. “what a charmer.”

even though there was an obvious and major painful side of the whole situation, it helped you to develop more boyfriend and girlfriend activities that didn’t necessarily include kissing. but the sex drive you and wooyoung had needed to have a scientific discussion, if not saying it was high as the fucking empire state. so of course the conversation of “what should we do when it comes to sex” was dropped at the table. and you concluded that you could masturbate or use toys only if the other wasn’t near. and that resulted in either of you literally asking the other to leave the apartment for a bit just to get a short self-pleasure session. exaggerated, but it worked.

still, the void of the other being filled with silicone toys or your own hand was unendurable. so you once tried having sex, but it was.. empty, to say it in some kind of way. while you were riding his hardened cock, bouncing up and down, panting for air, utterly lost in the feeling, you placed your hand on the side of his neck for support and started leaving lingering kisses and licking it. but your shoulder accidentally brushed his bottom lip.

an unpleasant whimper left your boyfriend’s red lips, and you detected it in an instant. your movements stopped completely. “whatwhatwhat.” you blabbered as you looked down at him concerned, meeting his furrowed brows as he guided his finger up to his recently touched lip.

“nothing, angel. just a little rub on the piercing but that’s all, don’t worry.” normally, he’d kiss your concerns away, but given the clear impediment, he only dedicated himself to giving you a reassuring stare, caressing your arms fondly.

“it’s not bleeding, isn’t it?” in less than a second, you scooped his face between your palms, lifting it for the little moonlight that intruded the blinds to light up his ringed lip. but wooyoung brushed your hands off him.

“it’s not, babe. i’m okay.” he reassured once again. and even though he was still deep inside you, your unbridled horniness faded out by then.

and you waited, not too composedly, but waited for the three remaining weeks to pass by. and the day finally came, the final appointment for the piercer to check on wooyoung’s piercing and see if everything was in order. but unfortunately, you couldn’t accompany him this time due to your work schedule, demanding you to stay behind your desk at home for two more hours. “‘m sorry i can’t go, baby” you had apologized to wooyoung, but he was more than comprehensive and wrapped you in a tight hug.

“you have nothing to apologize for, angel.” he replied once he pulled back, heading to the front door, rummaging his key into his pockets. “i’ll text you later.”

you smiled and answered him before he exited the house. “i love youuu” you expressed with all your heart, and wooyoung’s soul vanished in a mist of endear. “i love you way more.” his sincere eyes reflecting his adoration to you.

a couple hours passed, you finished your very coffee-required paperwork and wooyoung was still nowhere to be seen, his two last messages being an “i love you” and two red hearts. since watching your favorite movie with a bowl of ice cream next to you seemed like a good idea to unwind, you did so, setting the mood and adjusting your figure so you could be in a comfortable position.

you don’t know when you lost consciousness and fell into the depths of sleep, swimming through the ticklish feathers of your pillow. a very familiar voice made your eyes flutter open sluggishly. after blinking once or twice, your boyfriend’s gorgeous face unblurred.

“there she is,” he whispered quietly, as if his voice was the sharpest knife and you were the finest leaf. a tender, unrushed caress lingered in the flesh of your cheek.

“hi.” you managed to mutter back, a sheepish smile appearing on your sleepy face before you adjusted your position to sit on your elbow and stare at him. “how did everything g-“

he interrupted you by the slam of his lips against yours, devouring you entirely. god, you had missed it so much, the addictive taste of his lips, now more exciting as the silver ring brushed on and on against the outer lines of your mouth. a relieved, soft moan engulfed in the heated kiss. you broke it once you ran out of breath and joined your forehead as you gasped for air. there they were, the breathtaking, toe-curling kisses of your boyfriend you had yearned for such a long time.

“guess everything went just fine” you replied to yourself, a shared laugh echoing through the room. “we did it.” you congratulated, referring to the eternal time you had suffered without the collision of your mouths together.

“hell yeah we did.” he answered, not doubting the slightest second to clash his lips against yours again. saying you were desperate was an understatement. your tongues, tired of neglection, danced with each other in a fight to determine the dominant one, and… there wasn’t a winner. too excited to surrender. the remaining sleep in your core vanishing away.

at some point, wooyoung jumped to the couch and imprisoned you between his strong arms. but you turned the tables by tossing your body against him, forcing him to sit down with you on top. wooyoung’s mischievous smirk appeared in the scene. “just woke up and wanting to fuck already?” his eager palms traveling up to your sides, seeking the removal of your oversized shirt. “mm, nasty.”

his teasing sent shivers down your spine, your back straightening naturally. “guess you have that kind of effect on me.” you confessed through breathy hums. after wooyoung spread feathery kisses all along your neck and ran his piercing up and down its sides, your hips stuttered and started rocking against his clothed dick. so you muttered. “bedroom.”

“why? when i could just take you right here.” his masterful hands vanished your cloth off your upper body, exposing your perfectly erected nipples and devourable chest and collarbone. a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you threw your head back. “do you want that, sweetheart?” he asked in vane, already knowing what your answer would be. but still, you took the trouble to reply to him with a faint, breathy ‘yes’. “of course you want to. you’d let me fuck you even in your parents’ house. wouldn’t you, angel?” your whimpered affirmation sent him to heaven. “what a dirty girlfriend i’ve got.”

“fuck, youngie!” you moaned out loudly. the wet slam of the flesh of your ass and his hips was divine. wooyoung stared at your bouncing figure from beneath you as if you were some sort of goddess. and for him, you truly were. head thrown back, eyes shut from the overwhelming pleasure, mouth partially opened as it left a string of whimpers with wooyoung’s name in the middle. yes, he had proven his point.

you were so close to cumming, the coiled heat starting to snap as droplets of your clear liquid escaped the sides of his wet dick, your breath sharpening even more. “oh god, love. you’re squeezing me” his eyes closed for a bit, enjoying the comfortable warmth your walls provided.

“i’m gonna—fuck. woo i—“ you tried to announce your release, gripping his arms tightly as well as your walls did with his dick. his reassuring hand reached your stuttering hips and caressed them fondly.

“cum, love. show me how much you missed me.” he ordered sweetly, and that was all you needed for your orgasm to almost knock you out. it was so intense you could barely see straight. your body kept moving on its own as if that was its sole function. your exhausted core trembled above him as you rode your high, faintly touching the gates of overstimulation. three consecutive rounds had you on the floor and getting way more sensitive than necessary wasn’t a good idea. it’d be too much for your poor, ravished body to handle. a few more thrusts were needed for wooyoung to fill you with his white essence to the brim, your belly feeling swollen in consequence. you had forgotten how good it felt.

normally, wooyoung —if he was tired enough— would wash you with praises, soothing hands coming in help, and after staying still for a few moments for your uneven breathing to find balance, he’d grab the nearest blanket and pull it over you, too tired to go shower or changing the sheets —if you were in bed. instead, he spanked the flesh of your ass and earned a surprised gasp.

“sit on my face.” he demanded.

“what?”

“you heard me.” he started adjusting his figure, the completely messed-up blanket you had used for your little leisure session grazing his sides. you pulled off of him so he could comfortably position himself and once he laid his body on the cushions, he pointed his face twice with his index finger.

“a-are you sure? i wouldn’t want to hurt—“ you stammered. it’s not like you didn’t want to, you just were afraid of suffocating him underneath you. the mental image freaking you out, but he interrupted your thoughts.

“you won’t.” he encouraged you once again with a honey-dripping voice. your defeated gaze being more than enough for him to smile. “now c’mere, mama.”

the pet name made your toes curl unconsciously. with worry and self-doubt still striking your expression, you moved towards him, walking on your knees. once your calves stopped right next to his cheeks, you casted your eyes down at him, your body only succeeding in covering his mouth. “are you sure you—ngh!”

his hands reached your hips and pulled them down in less than a second, diving into your cum-covered insides. his tongue immediately moving in the most exquisite way as his silver ring grazed your folds as well. as much as you enjoyed the feeling of his skillful tongue inside you, you felt like you were far too sit, concerned about the possibly blocked airways of your boyfriend. your hips shook as they tried to elevate, but wooyoung dragged them down in an instant, his tongue reaching deeper spots. an unashamed moan from you was heard in reaction.

he pulled off your folds for a moment just to demand in the most gravel-like voice. “shut up and let me enjoy my meal.”

your walls clenched around his tongue just from hearing his voice. he continued to pleasure you with his mouth, keeping a steady pace with his licks and slurps, the nasty melody wooyoung was creating from beneath you and with your loud, whiny moans bounced off the walls. all doubts you had in the beginning were fading away with every lick wooyoung applied against your clit. with enough confidence, you started to rock your hips back and forth.

a muffled moan from him was perceived, turning into just suppressed hums. “please, youngie. please make me cum.” you mewled, desperately searching for release. overstimulation didn’t matter at this point, you just wanted to come undone on your lover’s tongue. anxious hands finding support on the armrest.

“don’t rush me.” your pulsating cunt overshadowed his command. he kept his ministrations on going, this time pulling away to tease your folds by brushing them at a fast pace with his index finger, the sudden shudder of your core pulled a shit-eating grin out of him, humming in satisfaction before speaking. “guess there’s no hurry. you’re so close.. look at those walls clenching around nothing.” he teased, choking a chuckle. it’d be too mean to laugh at you in a moment like this, and he’s not that evil. “come on, sweet girl. beg for it.” he uttered, slowing the pace of his finger which now was only grazing your lips faintly, already causing you to yearn for the absence of his tongue and pierced lip. you could only whine pitifully. his heavy hand flew to your ass to spank it harshly, your broken whimper echoed through the room. “i said beg for it. don’t make me repeat myself.”

and as if he had pressed a button, your woeful pleading began to unravel. “please, youngie i wanna cum so badly. pleeease, wanna make a mess on your tongue, babyy.” you mewled pathetically, a few pants breaking your supplications. “please, will you let me?”

and that broke a string inside wooyoung. he cursed under his breath before surrendering to your eager walls once again. “good girl.” and he dived in, submerging in a fog of lust and overflowing desire. your thighs shook when he sank your hips down once again, your parted mouth releasing pornographic sounds as your boyfriend nuzzled in your welcoming heat. the pace increased in a ridiculous amount of time. and your eager core seeking for his piercing to rub against your clit and cause you the most exquisite stimulation. another spank landed on your ass though.

“stay still and let me do my work.” he commanded, referring to the anxious movement of your hips. “i’ll give you just what you need, you greedy angel.” and with his words, you were a promise away to touch the most delightful heavens. your legs quivered, threatening to lose balance, but then, you feel his divine ring nuzzling your sensitive bud, just as you would’ve required if you weren’t too fucked out to speak. wooyoung’s name and needy, desperate prayers were recited in response.

“oh, fuck—ahh! youngie, right there—oh right the fuck there.” you melted under his touch, sinking further if that was even possible. wooyoung moaned beneath you, your moans never failing in making his cock twitch. and when his tongue swirled on your clit, you lost it. coming undone under his ministrations would always be the best experience, bright dots whitening your vision and you arched your back in the perfect crescent moon form. the scene being so breathtakingly beautiful that it seemed as though it had been lifted straight from a painting.

he rode you high as calmly as always, his lips covered in your divine liquids as he lapped your sensitive folds to clean you simultaneously, pulling away every once in a while to hum praises under his breath. a muffled “you did so good for me” twirled on your ear.

while you regained the ability to formulate rational thoughts, wooyoung helped you to straddle down his face, cradling you in his arms, still showering you with compliments, as he gave you enough time to recompose.

“baby?” he whispered, your arms, enveloped on his toned back, tightened their grip faintly, chin resting on his shoulder. a soft hum vibrated against his core as you answered him the best you could. “what did you think when you saw me with the piercing?”

a cute blush struck your cheeks. too tired to feel an extreme wave of embarrassment, let alone invent excuses, you confessed. “honestly? what we did before, but not this. definitely not this.” you shared a wholesome giggle, comforting each other with your body warmth.

“does that mean we’ll do this again?” he lifted his chin from your shoulder, forcing you to do so as well, and locked gazes with you. a small, radiant beam shining in his dark orbs, almost in a pleading way.

you chuckled one more time before raising your hand up to his messed, sweaty hair, combing it affectionately. “yes, woo. we’ll do this again.”

your words seemed to make wooyoung’s tired state fade into an excited feature of himself. even though, you’ll try it again in your next sex session —which will probably be in less than three days—. still, excitement rushed through his limbs, and couldn’t help but wrap you in a tight hug as high-pitched squeals muffled against your exposed, hickey-covered chest.

your giggle tingled against his flushed cheek, fingers still brushing the sides of his raven hair. “what am i gonna do with you?”

| masterlist

[blue-jisungs]

PLAYLIST

author's note. sorry for the slight delay!!! i hopeu all enjoy it tho<3 thank u so sooo mcuh @slytherinshua for the banner (again)<3333333333

summary. jihoon is curious about you, especially your music taste and this... somehow leads to your first kiss with him

word count. 1233

genre. music major!jihoon (and also undercover artist, woozi) x psychology major!yn

jihoon felt like a fool.

a complete, love struck fool.

he didn’t know what you did to him but – how did wonwoo phrase it? he was down bad for you – he was whipped.

ever since bumping into you in the library, which was quite embarrassing by the way, he just couldn’t get his mind off you. luckily for him, he gained some courage to talk to you and exchange socials.

you were in a talking stage, getting to know each other. like, for example your name, sign, major – so on, so forth. he was completely smitten to find out that you’re a psychology student but then again, you seemed amazed when he told you he’s majoring in music.

despite all this knowledge he still yearned to know more. your music taste, favorite drink, the name of your first hamster that you had in childhood– despite how creepy it sounded, it was the effect you had on him.

naturally, you wanted to know more about him too.

hence you’re here now, in his studio.

“do you want something to drink? vodka? tequilla? i mean, other drinks are okay too. ice with water?” jihoon asked, opening his mini fridge and trying to ignore the feeling of blood rushing to his ears. he’s such an idiot. ice with water? really, jihoon?

“water is fine” you grinned, looking around the room.

you were curious about the studio, it’s where the magic happens after all. apparently he didn’t let people in… except his friends. even with them he made some exceptions – like soonyoung, who once snuck in while he was drunk and made a song about a tiger…? you remember this story, he told you it on one of your first meetings (dates?).

“it all looks so expensive” you sighed, scared to even touch anything. jihoon must have noticed it because he broke a smile.

“well… music equipment usually is quite pricey. but feel free to try something, i’ll guide you. guitar, keyboard, saxophone… even the mixing board” he hummed and handed you the glass of water.

“oh really? i always wanted to try the silly machine” you pointed at the sound mixer, recalling a video you saw on tiktok how the grey keys lit up upon touching.

“here you go, then” jihoon grinned and pulled your chair closer to it, causing you to giggle. then, he pulled another chair for him and sat down.

he turned it on and put you glass away, ebony irises looking at you with excitement.

“so do i just…?” you asked and shyly tapped one of the tiles, it making a sound and lighting up with a pink light.

jihoon watched you good around with it, creating a silly melody and being rather amused by the colors than the music itself. his heart was thumping against his chest, weirdly liking it. he was anxious that he’d feel somehow stressed and somehow angry upon seeing you touch his instruments. he always did when someone came over. but with you… why was he so carefree?

“i have no idea how you do it, that just sounded like cocomelon intro” a laugh escaped your lips and jihoon joined you. oh, he loved the sound of your laughter.

“let me play some music, wait” jihoon stood up and grabbed his phone from the pocket of his sweats.

you admired him, observing his silhouette. he really fitted perfectly into this space, you could see he’s feeling himself because he’s surrounded by things he loves.

and he let you in that safe space of his.

this caused your heart to skip, trying to convince yourself it’s nothing. that he takes every girl here sooner or later, lets her play his instruments–

“everytime you look at me like that i wonder if you’re having flashbacks of your psychology textbooks, you know? and then you’re like… ‘ah yeah, he fits that description perfectly’” he giggled and you scoffed, shaking your head.

“you know, sometimes i can’t help but consider all the… small signs… but i don’t diagnose you!” you joked but saw his eyes widen. oh.

“small signs?” he asked, a bit of panic in his voice. great, now you freaked him out.

“like… you’re a workaholic but that’s no surprise, right?” you tried to ease the situation and it seemed that it worked.

“yeah, yeah” he nodded, a small smile blooming on his lips.

once again you looked around the room, eyes taking in every detail.

“wait, actually… do you want to play some music? i’m curious what you listen to” he asked and handed you the aux with a boyish smile.

“don’t judge me though… i’m already feeling kinda stupid” you laughed and scrolled through your playlist, jihoon looking over your arm.

you decided to play one of your cozy mixes on shuffle and turned around to peek at him.

“you… um, you know woozi?” jihoon asked, a tiny of nervousness in his voice.

“oh, yeah! jun recommend him to me! he’s so good, honestly. i kinda wish he had more music because i feel like i know every song by heart right now” you giggled and saw his eyes widen “what? you don’t like him?”

“wha… i… actually…” jihoon stuttered, mind racing like a wild horse galloping through the fields. why did jun tell you? no… he knew the answer to that – jun knew jihoon has a crush on you. what an asshole.

but… what to do now? how didn’t you figure out that woozi is him? should he confess? or should he thank you? or… maybe he should deny that he doesn’t know him.

“you kinda sound like him now that i think about it” you hummed, scanning his face.

“are you playing some psychological games with me right now?” jihoon asked, cracking a smile and finally sitting down next to you.

“no, why would i?” a frown appeared on your features. jihoon took it as a sign that you’re really clueless. taking a deep sigh, he pointed at one of the diplomas (or what you thought they were).

“i’m… woozi”

your mouth fell agape as you scanned the paper on the wall, secured safely in a ruby frame.

“and i’ll admit, you have a nice taste in music” he added, observing you. why was he kind of… excited by your reaction? the fact that you liked his music was another thing, making his heart go crazy.

“are you serious?” you asked in disbelief and your eyes shifted to meet his ebony ones.

“i’m in your playlist. come at me, gir” jihoon laughed and opened his arms in a cocky manner.

“so… woah. that’s crazy. i have a question though” you grinned, cocking an eyebrow at him. woozi’s mischievous spark in the eye told you to be straightforward “about who is ‘ruby’ about?”

no words were exchanged but the look he gave you was like an electric spark between you two. maybe hence the next thing he did, powered by an impulse, was standing up.

“can i kiss you?” he asked and you nodded vigorously, shame flying out of the window.

if it wasn’t said, the kiss definitely translated it into words: ‘ruby’ was about you. everything was about you, including his feelings.

his plush lips felt heavenly against yours, soft music playing in the background as his warm hands cupped your cheeks.

who knew that revealing your playlist to him would lead to your first kiss.

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu

[everyonewooeverywhere]

NSFW BLOG | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

summary: sometimes mingi can't help but feed into your jealous side. it's his favorite thing about you, after all.

pairing: toxic situationship/friendship!mingi x gn!reader

genre: angst | non-idol au

rating: 18+

word count: 1k

content warnings: toxic jealousy, alcohol consumption (no one really gets drunk tho), pet names (princess)

notes: for @desirehorizon 🤭

Why were you wearing that skirt? And those fishnets? Why couldn’t he take his eyes off you while you talked with a friend in his kitchen? Why couldn’t he just enjoy his night? 

The girl beside him was drunkenly chatting away in his ear. Something about how her Chemistry Concepts professor had been skipping out on lectures because his wife had been cheating on him, or something. Mingi didn’t care. He’d never seen her before, couldn’t even remember her name, but he kept his arm around her, lazily rubbing circles on her arm with his middle finger.

He was hoping that maybe he could get your attention by cuddling up close with some random girl, but it seemed that you were in your own little world anyway. He had one more idea, though.

Turning to the girl under his arm, “Baby?”

She looked up at him, “Hm?”

“Can you grab me another beer from the kitchen? They’re in that cooler.” He gestured toward the cooler that you just so happened to be standing in front of.

“Uh, okay.” Easy. 

She lifted herself off the couch, kissing him on the cheek before whispering a small “I’ll be back” and heading to the kitchen. Mingi felt a little bad sending her into the lion’s den like that, but something about the way he knew you’d react made his head spin.

“Um, excuse me…” She muttered, trying to get into the cooler that you were blocking with your legs.

You glanced down at her and raised an eyebrow, “Need something?” 

“Yeah, I needed a beer. From the cooler.”

You just blinked at her, not moving an inch. “Bea, right?”

“Hm? Yeah..? Can I…just grab a beer from the cooler?”

“Who invited you?”

“What?” She looked up at you with wide eyes. You just kept staring her down, not repeating the question. “I–um…Jongho and I have Statistics together. He asked if I wanted to come by this weekend. Said it was an open invite.”

“Right. So where is Jongho? Why aren’t you hanging out with him?” Her face turned bright red, “And Stats? That’s like a freshman class. Are you a freshman?”

“Yeah.” 

You laughed. Loud. And you looked down to see poor Bea on the verge of tears. You kicked the cooler open and grabbed a beer. You got real close to her and slid the can into her hand and leaned in as close as you could to her ear, “Do yourself a favor and play with boys in your own league? Mingi doesn’t give a shit about you, baby, so I suggest you run along before you really get hurt, okay?”

She whipped her head back and you saw the mortified look in her eyes. You could tell she felt embarrassed and like she never should’ve come to this party anyway, but that was the goal, wasn’t it?

You watched as she clutched the can in her and made a beeline for the door. Your friend next to you chuckled, “That was kinda brutal, don’t you think?” You shrugged and took a sip of your drink. 

Glancing over at Mingi, you saw that he was still just talking with everyone around him, “I’ll be back.” You muttered to your friend. 

He just chuckled, “Sure you will.”

You walked around the back of the couch, resting your hands on Mingi’s shoulders. He tilted his head back against your stomach and looked up at you. “What was that all about?” He gestured to the door.

“I don’t know. Told her that you’re probably too old for her, and she bolted.” 

He hummed, letting you massage his shoulders and dig into his sore spots with your thumbs, “Still didn’t get my beer, though.”

“You’ll live.” Your snarkiness made him chuckle.

He shivered as you started to let your hands travel, and your nails scraped his scalp. He kept talking with his friends though. And maybe you were more of an attention whore than you realized because every second that ticked by made you more and more irritable.

You had to step it up. Not that you were opposed, though. Because nothing measured up to the look he gave you when you slid up next to him. Keeping your hands all over him.

And it started fine. Nothing but some tipsy touches on his neck and chest. He loved the feeling of you absent-mindedly playing with him. And it was clear that the girl from earlier had brought out the jealous beast in you.

But when you started fidgeting with the waistband of his jeans, playfully circling the silver button with your pointer finger. And fuck when you start kissing his jaw and neck. He’s stopped talking completely. 

Just focused on the way your hands unzip his jeans and your lips leave the signature of your burgundy lipstick all over your neck. His mind goes blank. Blissfully unaware of the few people still residing in the living room. 

You, on the other hand, are hyper aware of their presence. And their discomfort. And you notice that when you make the move of sliding a finger over the waistband of his boxers, the room starts to clear out. 

“Oh no, we killed the party,” you whisper with your lips pressed to his ear.

Mingi finally looks up and sees that what’s left of the party, only a handful of his friends, have migrated away from them and to the kitchen, “Fuck them, princess.” And he pulls you into his lap. 

“Minnie…” you wrap your arms around his neck, “Fuck me. Please.” And you roll your hips, brushing over his nearly exposed crotch. 

His hands cupped your ass, fingers trailing the small bit of your panties that poked out from your little skirt. “God, you’re insatiable.” He groaned.

You ran your thumb across his bottom lip, “I’m perfectly satiable, Minnie. You just have to give me what I want.”

“And what do you want, Princess?” He looked at you through half-lidded eyes, trying to maintain his composure. 

“You.”

general taglist: @swimmingkpopblog @oddracha @drinkingrumandcocacola @minaateez @funnyvxlentine

ateez taglist: @certifiedmoa @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @curiousgworge @hyukssunflower @hotteokisms

@sushiinmidnight @atiny-dime-p1ece @mismatchfluffysocks @vic0921 @vampzity

@breadpuddingboys @woolysium @im-ovulation @pommelex

@dancingwithdeities @maidens-world @jycas @kirbrary @aftertherain-atr

@staytinyinmybpack @m4n4-s4m4 @jjcanwrite @yvnhoos @uninterested-ghost

@yizhou-time @shinyj3lly @kyeos4ng

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 39. A Familiar Face

Summary: Dahlia's second year is officially underway with Conscription Day finally here. A new year, new cadets, and a familiar face she wasn't expecting to see amongst the new first years. Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Links

Another year, another Conscription Day. It was crazy to think one year ago that was me. How different my life was this time last year. Though some things were still the same. I was still a disappointment, if not a bigger one to my family. Especially with the company I now kept. And especially after Garrick’s very public show of affection towards me. The one upside to that was Dain now avoided me completely.

”Ready for your first duties as Squad Leader?” Garrick teases as we walk across the courtyard to the Parapet.

”That sounds so…. weird. Not sure who thought it was a good idea to give me Squad Leader.” I say with a grimace.

I had been so sure any leadership opportunities were off the cards for me due to my father overseeing Basgiath. But clearly he had no say on the matter. My name had been clearly marked as Xaden’s replacement for the year as he stood up to Wingleader.

”Same person who decided to make Bodhi an Executive Officer.” He points out.

Bodhi deserved it though. He had stood up massively in War Games. Xaden had split the Squad into attacking and defending and sadly had lost our squads executive officer in an attack. Bodhi had taken over instantly, defending our outpost with ease. He had more than earned his spot.

”Clearly whoever is making these choices needs to be evaluated. Somehow you got section leader.” I tease back.

”Ouch. Good to see you’re still as ruthless as before.”

One of the things that was vastly different to last year. Last year when I had crossed the parapet and given my name, Garrick had hated me for it. Wanted nothing to do with me. And I had wanted nothing to do with him. If I could tell my past self they’d be walking across the courtyard with his hand on their lower back and be in a relationship with him, they’d laugh at me.

“You knew what you were getting yourself into.” Bodhi adds as we get into ear shot.

“And you are relieved of your duties.” I say, cutting Garrick off as I walk up to Bodhi. “I’ll find you two later.”

Garrick goes to object, but Bodhi pushes his shoulder, ushering him back into the crowd of cadets. Ever since graduation Bodhi had been pushing Garrick’s buttons more than normal. The whole day after he’d been boasting about winning the bet against Imogen. He had bet we’d be together before the end of my first year. Which he’d technically won by just a few hours. But Garrick had also been doing it back to him, especially after he found out Bodhi had accompanied me to Chantara to get the new tattoo that adorned my right forearm. To be fair, Bodhi had no idea what I’d been planning to do. He was just along for the ride. And in my defence, Garrick had been out doing something with Xaden. So the only logical choice to take with me was Bodhi. Bodhi was convinced Garrick thought it was partly his idea with how he was acting, but honestly Garrick didn’t care I’d gotten the tattoo. He just enjoyed watching Bodhi squirm.

Cadet after cadet crosses the parapet. All of them ready to take on the Quadrant. Though most of them wouldn’t make it to the end. Even once you bond a dragon you aren’t guaranteed to stay alive. We’d lost a lot of second and even third years in War Games. Due to it Garrick had been moved to Flame Section for his Section Leader role along with many other moves within the Wing’s.

A cadet practically jumps off the parapet, turning around quickly as they draw a dagger. My eyes go wide as I take in the familiar brown and silver hair, styled into a braided crown. Holy shit. Violet Sorrengail. What the hell was she doing here? Dain is going to lose it when he realises she’s here. Seconds later a far larger cadet halts on the parapet as her dagger pushes into his breaches, dangerously close to his balls. Never thought I’d see the day where Violet would hold a guy three times her size at knife point.

”I think. I’ll be safe. For right. Now.” She gets out between ragged breaths.

”Will you?” The blonde haired cadet seethes as he looks down at her with piercing eyes. He was going to be an issue.

Violet starts reciting the codex with ease. Of course she would know that thing off by heart.

”I don’t give a shit!” He roars, stepping forward as Violet’s dagger slices into his breeches.

”Name?” The girl keeping roll asks, sounding completely unphased by the altercation happening in front of us. “You’re pretty small for a rider, but it looks like you made it.”

”Violet Sorrengail. And before you ask, yes, I’m that Sorrengail.” She says with slight irritation. Clearly she’d been asked that question multiple times before.

”Not surprised with that manoeuvre,” She says as she notes down her name. “And what’s your name?” Directing her question to the cadet Violet still holds at knife point.

”Jack. Barlow.” He growls out, his attention still fully on Violet.

”Well, Jack,” I start as I push off the wall, Violet turning her head towards me, her eyes going wide as she realises who I am. Her eyes trailing over my uniform and noting the patches on my jacket. “Cadet Sorrengail has you by the actual balls here, in more ways than one. She’s right. Regs state that there’s nothing but respect among riders at formation. You want to kill her, you’ll have to do it in the sparring ring or on your own time. That is, if she decides to let you off the parapet. Because technically, you’re not on the grounds yet, so you are not a cadet. She is.”

Jack turns his piercing blue eyes to me, his eyes flicking down to where my name is sewn onto my uniform. “And if I decide to snap her neck the second I step down?” He growls, the look in his eyes telling me he would definitely do it.

”Then you get to meet the dragons early,” The other girls answers, her tone bland. “We don’t wait for trials around here. We just execute.”

I take a step towards Violet, putting myself behind her right shoulder. “What’s it going to be, Sorrengail? You going to have Jack here start as a eunuch?”

No one else would notice it, but I see her falter. See her question what she’s actually doing. She was trained to be a scribe. Not a rider. I doubt she’d even picked up a blade till a few months ago. What the hell happened in the year Dain and I were gone?

”Are you going to follow the rules?” She asks Jack, tightening her grip on the dagger.

”Guess I don’t have a choice.” He sneers at her, before raising his hands in defeat.

She steps back, lowering her dagger to let him by. Jack steps down into the courtyard, making him an official cadet of the riders quadrant. “You’re dead, Sorrengail, and I’m going to be the one to kill you.”

”Not today.” She says with confidence, before he scoffs and walks off.

”Damn Sorrengail, not even a day in and already making enemies.” I tease, pulling her attention to me.

She just looks at me and nods meekly before turning and walking into the courtyard, heading towards the girl who had crossed before her. And as if magnetised to her, Dain starts walking right towards her. Oh this was going to be fun.

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd @heeseungthel0ml @acourtofsmutandstarlight @fairchild06 @freyagallileaevans @pit-and-the-pen @hannraumari @elliot-rain @thestarseternaal @stupid-and-contagious01 @hyperfixation-train-station @lxnvmvrzx @thebreadisthetruevillian @red0202 @fangirling-galore @craftytrashprincess @taliyahvermillion @xadenswhore @fenixyrie @lagrandeourse @hellodarling1357 @iambored24601  @thegiftofacreativemind @fanfictionjunkie1112 @mysticalfuncollectorus @ohlookitsasinglepoeceofpopcorn

[scarletssienna]

Say, “Don’t go”

Summary - It’s been three years since you and Wanda saw each other last - Three long years. You were as good as dead to her. Figuratively, and unfortunately, literally. 6k word count

Warnings - Hurt-Comfort, angst, mommy wanda, sub!reader, grinding, car sex, fingering, hair-pulling, oral, biting, fighting, scars, AU

AN - Hey guys! Sorry, it’s been a second since I’ve posted. I cannot write anything happy apparently? It’s all just been angst. I have many ideas for some future one-shots and possible series tho! (Not all angst dw)

18+, minors + men dni

Working for the FBI was no easy feat. It often led to undercover work in many different forms. Typically you’d expect to be undercover a couple hours at most. So it was unexpected when you got a case requiring a longer period of undercover work. 3 months at most and you’d be out. This case was different from the rest. You’d been tracking a mob boss for years, every time you’d think you’d get close he’d disappear. Every time he’d come back worse than before. The goal was to gain some trust in the community and work your way up, that way you could finally track him down with confirmation. It wasn’t ideal. It was highly dangerous but you’d been training for this your entire career. When you broke the news to Wanda she was less than displeased. Since the two of you had gotten together in college you’d been nearly inseparable. Your names always followed one another’s and you were practically glued to the hip. 

Sure, you’d trained for undercover work like this, but the risk was great. There was a good chance of having to participate in illegal activities or getting hurt. Because of that, Wanda was very unhappy with you and the decision to go. The idea of being apart from you for a week, nonetheless 3 months sounded awful. You couldn’t exactly turn down this offer though. You’d waited to catch this guy for years and now it was finally within your grasp. You were too far in. The day of you leaving came quicker than anyone could have prepared for and it left you with a sinking feeling in your gut and Wanda distraught.

“I have to go, Wands.” You pleaded, trying anything you could to get her to understand. She looked away from you, wiping the tears from her face.

“No, you don’t. You could stay. We can figure it out.” She sniffled and held back a whine. “Together.” She sounded like a child begging for a toy in a store, although this was much more real. You stepped back towards her again. She stepped away but instead backed herself against a wall. 

“Wands, look at me.” You begged softly as your hands reached up, cupping her face in your hands. When she looked into your eyes, you nearly broke right then and there. The pure sadness she held was unbearable. Her green eyes were glossy - her mascara ran just below her bottom lashes. The sinking pit in your stomach grew as you opened your mouth to speak. No words came out, causing her to scowl slightly. Instead, you leaned in, kissing her as passionately as you could. She kissed back, her hands grabbing at your face, pulling you in as close as she could. When the tears began again, you had to pull back, your head falling on her shoulder. It did a poor job of muffling the sobs that left your mouth. 

“Please.” She begged. “Stay.” Her hands wrapped around you tightly, holding you against her, afraid to let go. Her fingers tangled in your shirt, creasing the fabric in her grip.

“I love you so much.” You said as you pulled back a tiny bit, just enough for your eyes to meet again. It was what confirmed it for Wanda. You were leaving. There was no more pleading and begging she could do. You had made up your mind. Her hands detached from your shirt, and she shook her head. Her arms went to her sides as her head rested behind her on the wall. “I love you, Wanda.” You repeated the words the two of you had shared hundreds of times. But this time was different: she didn’t repeat the words back. Her eyes just stared back at you, glossy, broken. Your hand dropped to your stomach, holding it slightly as the sickening feeling took over. It hit you that she wouldn’t be saying it back this time. You pushed past the billowing feeling that took over your stomach and chest. You leaned forward to kiss her one last time, but she didn’t kiss back. So, you moved and kissed her cheek tenderly before stepping away. She held her breath as a single tear rolled down her face. She held eye contact with you until you walked away, finally breaking it. You felt her gaze on you; only when you rounded the corner did it cease. She sank to her knees, her hands covering her face as she muffled her sobs. You carried on, leaving the house despite everything inside you urging you to stay. 

After three weeks of you being gone a news story broke out of an FBI agent found dead while undercover. The story that was released was gruesome. Wanda fell distraught. She was distraught you had left in the first place, but at least she had known you would be coming home. Now, with this no longer being true she was sent into more of a fragile state than ever. You had no idea that was going to happen. You had accounted for a few months of being away - at most. So it was a surprise to you too when you got a call one early morning saying there was a change of plans in your mission. It had to seem real. And to everyone else, it was real. Wanda’s grief of the love of her life was real. The woman hardly slept, yet she barely left bed. Bathing was a chore and food was an even worse one. Nightmares were common. These grew exponentially after everyone's and her own better judgment, she read your case file. She saw your name, the bloody image of ‘your’ body, the details and descriptors of how you had died, all of it, stamped a closed case. You were now deceased.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

It’s been three years since you and Wanda saw each other - three long years. You were as good as dead to her. Figuratively, and unfortunately, literally. 

An old file was placed on Wanda’s desk one morning as she worked. 

“What’s this?” Wanda asked as confusion wrinkled across her face. She looked up, pushing her glasses to the top of her head, making eye contact with Natasha. 

“Something I thought you might be interested in.” Natasha started as she reached down and opened the file. Wanda recognized the case immediately, her bottom lip quickly tugged into her mouth as she bit down. Natasha’s fingers slid across the pages in search of a word. She paused, her fingertips halting just beneath it - Deceased. She pointed out the word, causing Wanda to flip her glasses back down, looking at the papers, curious. She just nodded and shrugged, not recognizing where it was from. 

“Okay? What about it?” Wanda pushed, trying not to get upset at the lack of details about what she was supposed to be looking at. Natasha reached over, setting another file on top opening it, flipping through, and then pointing out several points throughout the pages. 

“They’re not dead,” Natasha said while shaking her head. She sighed and knocked on the desk once as a sign she was leaving before walking out of the room. Wanda watched her exit before looking back into the folders in front of her, her face still riddled with confusion. Her jaw dropped slack as she realized Natasha was right. You're not dead.

Wanda looked through the second file on her desk quizzically. You had been dead. What she read proved otherwise. She let out a silent gasp as she read further. 

There was a file opened about a woman who was close to the man you had gone after. It was you. Though the people above in the FBI knew that. They just had to keep it under wraps for your safety. The case had been made available recently as the mob boss was dead. The woman in the file had shot him and escaped. The more Wanda read about the woman, the more she realized it was you. Techniques you had used in the past for interrogation, fighting techniques, and just genuine physical mannerisms. The woman had shown up just a month after you had been declared deceased. The thing that finally confirmed it to be you for Wanda stopped her in her tracks. There were blurry security images from the shooting. You had always managed to stay away from cameras and any photos taken staying in hiding made your undercover position easier. Wanda would always recognize you. You had to be confident you could return when this was revealed. 

She immediately reached for her phone, dialing your number and letting it ring twice before she realized. The number had been down for years and you wouldn’t just pick up like that. She set her phone down and pushed her chair back. While gnawing on her bottom lip she was in a shocked state of not knowing what to do. She left the office quickly, going home. The second she pulled into the driveway she broke down into tears. All the feelings from years ago came back. It felt unreal, untrue. She couldn’t believe it, and not in the way of denial. But protecting herself. She couldn’t go through the grief again. She dragged herself inside and simply dropped her stuff by the door. She had moved on from you. It was hard, but she had done it. 

All this brought up those emotions, she wasn’t sure how to cope. She brought herself to the bedroom and stripped off her clothes, dropping them sporadically around the room before going to the shower. She paused in front of the mirror, trying to contain her tears. She dried her face with the hand towel and sniffled before turning on the water to the shower. She stood outside the shower, waiting for it to heat up. As she stood the tears began again. When the water was to her liking she entered and stood under the water, trying to wash away all the feelings. They didn’t wash away as she had hoped. Slowly, she sunk to the ground, holding her legs just as she had done when you left. The feeling of sadness and heartbreak was all too familiar. 

The next week things were off. No one had brought you up. Not that they usually did. But Wanda had hoped someone would. Maybe if someone brought it up it would give her an excuse to share what she had found - Without fear of sounding crazy. The first year after you’d left, Wanda was in such a deep state of grief. She’d often bring up new cases, victims, or missing people, saying it may be you. She had seen the evidence of your death, but after the closed casket funeral and no true closure in the situation, it drove her wild. She settled for focusing on her work this week, pushing people away. She had to believe you were alive. The counter thought was too much. 

When you returned to Quantico you wanted nothing more than to see Wanda. Unfortunately, there was paperwork on paperwork that needed to be approved before doing so. On top of that, you also had to go through a medical check and many physical exams. While the FBI had known what you were doing, they couldn’t just pull you away for the maintenance of your health. It was debatably the longest week of your life. You spend much of it waiting in the temporary apartment they had set up for you. It was boring, mundane, and painfully long as all you could think about was seeing Wanda. When you got the go-ahead Friday night you were frantic. At a loss of what to wear, who to call, and where to even find Wanda you were lost. Decidedly, you called the only number you could seem to remember at the time, Natashas. She answered on the third ring your call from a club. She hasn't answered nearly as fast as you would have liked but supposed it was fine, this time. 

“Where is Wanda?” You wasted no time on formalities, impatiently waiting for a response. You paced back and forth between the kitchen and living room as you gnawed your bottom lip into your mouth. Natasha didn't know who was calling but answered anyway. She listened as she stepped outside. 

“Who is this? You must know that this is terrible timing. Whatever this is better be important.” She insisted as she leaned against the cold brick wall, not waiting long before you replied again. 

“Natasha.” You answered simply. “Where is Wanda?” You repeated your question with a firm tone. Suddenly, it hit Natasha on who you were. A gasp left her mouth as she stood up straight.

“No way!” She practically yelled. Of course, she knew you were alive. She had known the whole time. But it had been a long time since the two of you had spoken real words. Now here you were, asking for Wanda. Before you could yell again into the phone, she remembered your question. “She’s probably still at work. She’s been working like crazy this last week.” You didn’t even bother saying anything more before hanging up the phone. 

You pulled up the maps app on your phone and typed in Quantico. When you saw it was just a little over a mile you decided to run. You were not about to just wait around for an Uber that was for sure. Was running the best decision as it was 10:30 pm and you were last in the area several years ago? Maybe not. But you were in a wired state and would do it anyway. When you arrived you hurried to the elevator. You grumbled as you went to hit the button and realized you needed your key card. Shuffling through your pockets in a frantic state you grabbed it and swiped it, pressing the floor you needed to go. Thoughts began to flood your mind as you imagined Wanda's reaction. What if she was mad at you? What if she never wanted to see you again? You didn't have much time to worry though as the elevator dinged and opened. As the doors opened they slowly revealed the red hair you've been dying to see. An exhausted Wanda was standing outside the elevator waiting to enter. You took a second to register her in front of you, still as a statue. She hardly even looked your way, not recognizing you through the exhaustion. She shuffled into the elevator and rested her head against the wall, reaching to push the first-floor button when you cut her off. 

“Wanda,” you said, causing her head to snap towards you. Her face was riddled with confusion before her jaw dropped as she realized who was standing before her. Without a second thought, she flung herself into your arms. You held her tightly against you as your arms wrapped around her closely. “God, Wanda.” You murmured under your breath as you pressed your face into her hair, inhaling slightly. You could have melted at her touch, her scent, her everything. It was exhilarating. Her face nuzzled into your neck as if it was a perfect puzzle piece. Her soft sobs of joy are swallowed and silenced by your closeness. The doors to the elevator closed but the machine stayed in place as it hadn't been directed anywhere.

“Is it you?” She asked after several moments, pulling her face back. When her green, teary eyes met yours you smiled bigger than you had in forever. 

“It's me, Wands,” you said as you looked up into her eyes, causing her to grin. You reached both hands up, cupping her face as you wiped away her tears with your thumbs. Softly, you pressed a kiss to her nose. Her nose wrinkled at the kiss and she giggled before leaning forward and kissing you, passionately. The kiss only lasted a few moments before she was tangled around you again closely. 

“How? What?” Suddenly she began to stutter out. “Where?” The number of questions she had was too many and they were too much right now. While biting down on your bottom lip you shook your head. “Soon, so very soon.” You whispered as you placed a kiss on her temple. “I’ll tell you all about it soon.” When she began to protest your answer you kissed her softly, causing her to sigh and give in, just happy you were here. 

“Where have you been staying?” She asked before looking at the elevator as it began to move down. Slowly, she detached herself from you causing you to release her from your arms. Instead, she settled on holding your arm tightly, afraid to let go. 

“They set me up with a temporary apartment not too far from here.” You spoke in a quiet voice as the elevator doors opened. The two of you exited, carefully walking past the person entering. 

“Let me take you home.” Wanda offered. She wanted to see you for as long as she physically could but knew it was late and unrealistic to expect you to stay out doing who knows what at the spur of the moment. She looked at you as she stepped closer once again, not having let go of your arm. Suddenly, she began to stutter. “By home, I mean your apartment, not my, our, home I mean. Unless you want to go there? I mean I wouldn't mind at all! But also I would understand if you wanted to go back to,” You cut her rambling off with a soft kiss. 

“I would love to go back to our home,” You started, causing her eyes to light up. “But not tonight.” You finished and the glimmer in her eyes faded as she quickly looked away. Feeling the sudden need to clarify, you spoke quickly. “There's still some things that need to be settled and I've been running around too much, I don’t want to disturb you.”

She agreed and you went towards her car, both of you getting in when Wanda finally pried her body away from yours. It was quickly returned when you both had gotten in, her hand reaching for your leg as she drove. Your hand rested on hers. Despite having tons to talk about you drove in silence: quiet directions were the only words shared as the radio played softly in the background as you watched out the window. She drove slowly down the road, a few under the speed limit as she wanted to soak up every moment she could with you. Her hand slowly rose your thigh as she drove, her fingertips playing softly with the inner hem of your pants. There was a sudden moment of desperation that came among the two of you. Wanda pulled into the nearest empty parking lot and parked the car. The second the car was put into park the two of you practically launched yourselves at each other, kissing one another passionately. Your hands reached for her waist as hers tangled in your hair. 

Her tongue slipped across your bottom lip, eagerly seeking entrance. You obliged without a second thought, a moan immediately muffed into the kiss. Your hand snaked under her shirt, groping and grabbing at her chest through her bra. She groaned into your mouth, tugging your hair as she pulled you closer. 

“Fuck.” You mumbled as you pulled back from the kiss, locking eyes with her. You hummed and tugged at her shirt. “Get over here.” You murmured as you reached down to unbuckle your seatbelt. You moved the seat back and laid it down before turning your back to the windshield and shifting towards the front of the car. There was some awkward shifting and moving as Wanda moved into the passenger's seat, settling and leaning back in the seat. She reached forward and grabbed your shirt, pulling you on top of her. 

Your lips met instantly again and your hips found a slow pace of grinding onto her lap. Her hands reached down to your thighs, gripping them tightly as she slid her fingertips inward, dipping towards the insides of your thighs. With a groan, you broke the kiss and began kissing at her neck. Your hip movements came to a cease as you moved off her lap, now between her legs. You grumbled as the floor wasn’t as forgiving as you’d expected the fabric-covered metal to be. That wasn’t about to stop you though as you reached towards her pants. She helped with the buttons and zipper, before lifting her hips, allowing you to tug down her pants and panties with one quick motion. You moaned at the sight in front of you. Her delectable cunt waiting in front of you. She reached down, tangling a hand in your hair as she began to push your head to where she needed it most. You would never deprive her of what she wanted. Especially when your mouth practically watered for her. 

“Come on Detka. Don’t be shy, Mommy remembers how much you love eating her pussy.” She spoke sweetly, a smile on her face as she looked down at you. Your face turned to a deep blush as she spoke. In an attempt to avoid embarrassment, you settled your head between her thighs happily. Your tongue made contact with her slowly. Your tongue moved up her clit in a fashion that made her squirm. Her grip on your hair tightened as her hips rose against your face. You moaned against her as your hands gripped her thighs. The way your tongue swirled and ground against her caused her to moan out above you. “Fuck Detka.” She pulled at your hair and she let out a loud moan. “Oh, I’ve missed your tongue.” She said as her eyes screwed shut and threw her head back. You looked up from your position, smiling at the sight above you. One of your hands slid between her legs and quickly slipped inside of her. Your tongue directed all of your attention to her clit as your fingers curled and pumped inside of her. With the addition of your fingers, she rose quickly to an orgasm. Her hands tugged at your hair as her hips lifted and she let out a loud moan as she reached her peak. When she settled you took a moment to remove your fingers and lap up what you could before looking up at her with a cheeky grin.

“Fuck you’re hot.” You said as you grinned, biting the inside of your cheek before pulling your fingers to your mouth, and licking them clean. She watched you, awestruck and tired as she caught her breath. Her grip loosened in your hair and her hands reached down to your face with a new tenderness. She lifted your chin to look at you with a smile. You smiled back up at her before biting your bottom lip. You wiped your face with your shirt in a playful manner before shifting a little. She giggled tiredly and pressed her fingertip to the tip of your nose with a smile. You dried your fingers on your pants before pulling Wanda's pants and panties up carefully. She slowly shifted her body, tiredly allowing you to help her. When her pants were back in place you crawled onto her lap, straddling her. You began to pepper soft kisses across her jaw and neck. 

“I love you, Wands.” You whispered as you settled back in her lap, your head resting below her chin as her arms wrapped around you keeping you close.

“I love you too, Detka.” She said with a tired smile on her face. The slow patterns Wanda traced on your back felt hypnotizing as you never wanted to leave this moment. You had to though, so after a little while of sitting together you lifted your head. She protested with a grumble and tangled her hand in your hair, urging you to lay your head back down. Her eyes didn't open from her relaxed state. 

“Wanda let me drive us home.” You said as you placed a kiss on her lips. She nodded and slowly let go of you. You reached down and adjusted the seat so it was in a safer upright position before scooting back on her lap a little and buckling her seatbelt for her. You then smiled as her tired eyes looked into yours. “Keep looking at me like that I’m gonna have to eat you out again.” you teased, causing her to grin and giggle. You climbed into the driver's seat and set the car to defog, letting it rest momentarily as you traced patterns on Wanda's leg. When the car was defogged enough you drove the two of you home. 

Pulling into the driveway you parked the car in the garage before getting out. You hurried to Wanda's side before she could even open the door. You opened the door for her before reaching down and unclicking her seatbelt.

“Can I carry you?” you asked, causing her to grin a little out of surprise. She raised her eyebrows at you as she began to question. 

“Is that a question of your physical capabilities or are you asking for permission?” She teased as she looked up at you tiredly. “Because you have my permission, but Detka I might be too heavy,” she started but you cut her off, carefully lifting her out of the seat, watching to make sure she didn’t bump her head. She gasped surprised as she quickly hid her face in your neck, flustered. You carried her inside before setting her on the steps. Gently, you began taking off her shoes and jacket for her, hanging them up on the hook before returning and picking her up bridal style. She laughed when you picked her up again but let it happen as she wrapped her arms around your neck tightly and kissed your jaw. You brought her to the bedroom and laid her down. She made quick work of snuggling up with the pillows in the bed. 

“Don’t get too comfy Wands.” You teased as you went to the closet to find some pajamas. You bit your lip, pausing as you noticed your side of the closet had stayed nearly the same as when you had left. Slowly, you began looking through your shirts. Your fingers danced slowly over the fabric, brushing your fingertips along the patterns of one of your favorite shirts. You carefully slipped the shirt off the hanger. You glanced at the closet door, knowing Wanda’s eyes were on you before stripping your shirt off. As you reached to unclip your bra you heard her call out. 

“Come here.” Wanda’s voice was husky and full of sleep. You abided anyway and picked your shirt and a shirt for her before walking towards her. You set the shirts on her bed, blushing a light shade of pink as you stood next to her. She propped herself up a little more and reached towards you, spinning you to face away from her. Her hands slid up your back slowly before stopping at your bra. She took only a moment, unclipping your bra. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as she unclipped your bra. Her hands then slid down your back, her fingertips tracing across some scars she had never seen before. You flinched at the touch at first before relaxing into it. While biting your bottom lip you let the bra fall to the ground before turning back around to face her. She smiled at your body, only looking at you with love and adoration as she took in the sight. Her eyes on you made you blush a deeper red. When she noticed you getting more flustered she directed her attention lower. Her hands slid from your sides to the loops of your pants. Moving you closer with a soft tug she undid the button before looking into your eyes as she did the zipper. You shuffled out of the pants before reaching for her. Carefully you repeated her motions. Your fingers danced around the button to her pants as you undid them, carefully helping her slide out of them. While she took off her shirt you took a moment to fold the clothes you two had discarded. You smiled as you looked back towards her again, reaching your arms around her. Your hands slid behind her back and unclasped her bra. She let the garment fall slowly as it was now your turn to admire the sight in front of you. You sat on the edge of the bed next to her, letting a small smile show as you handed her one of your t-shirts. You pulled yours on as she put hers on. As sexual as the actions may have seemed to an outside perspective they were purely done out of innocence and genuine care. 

“Can I sleep next to you?” You spoke for the first time in several minutes. A downward smile tugged on Wanda’s lips as she grabbed at your shirt. 

“Please do.” She said as she nodded, tapping the side next to her, your side of the bed. You smiled at her response and bit your lip as you pulled the covers back. You crawled over top of her, causing her to giggle as you plopped down next to her. You took a moment to dramatically fluff up your pillow before lying down. She waited, teasingly impatient. The second your head hit the pillow Wanda’s head was right there next to you hardly inches away. Her arms wrapped around you closely and one leg pushed between yours, essentially tangling your bodies together. The closeness felt wonderful. You brushed your nose against hers with a smile on your face. She smiled and closed her eyes, feeling content and at peace for the first time in a long time. Gently you pressed a kiss to her lips. You didn’t close your eyes just yet. You watched her instead. Watching how her eyes fluttered tiredly, her breath slowly making her chest rise and fall, her breathing getting slow as she drifted asleep. When you were sure she was asleep you finally gave in to the tiredness yourself, letting your eyes close and sleep take over you. 

The next morning when you woke up Wanda was stretched out next to you but still clinging onto your shirt with one of her hands. You smiled at the sight, biting back a big grin as you watched her. Before, you were rarely awake before Wanda. She liked to get up early to get a head start on her day. Now, that had been you for the past few years. You scooted towards her, wrapping your body around her as you began to kiss her cheek and neck playfully. She stirred in her sleep and luckily remembered about the night prior before freaking out. She rolled on top of you and grinned, her eyes not yet open as she snuggled into your chest. 

“Shh, I’m sleeping.” She whispered as she wrapped her body around you. You smiled and chuckled at her. You wrapped one arm around her back, sliding it under her shirt as you rubbed up and down the bare skin. Your other hand went to her hair, tangling it softly as you massaged her scalp. She hummed and leaned into your touch, slowly falling back into sleep. While kissing the top of her head you whispered. 

“I’ll lay here a little while then I have some stuff to do okay Wands?” You wanted to work out and return some phone calls for work to get it out of the way. She just nodded and hugged you closer. You let her stay in that position for longer than you’d planned before slowly moving her next to you again and climbing out of bed. You kissed her head before going downstairs. You paused at the end of the stairs, taking a deep breath as you knew you were about to take on walking through your old house. Just as you were about to walk through the house suddenly you couldn’t do it. You put on your shoes before going for a run outside. You ran all around smelling the fresh air. It was like no time had passed. You ran a quick run before returning home to get a weight lift in. Before, you seldom did cardio and weights on the same day. But you had a new routine that made you the most fit you’d ever been. The home gym was in a room connected to the garage. You went there and did a routine before heading up to the bedroom to shower. Wanda was sitting on the bed, pillows propped up behind her as she scrolled on her phone. 

“Wow,” Wanda muttered under her breath as she saw you walk into the room, your sweaty state extremely obvious. You laughed at her reaction and dried your face off the sweat with the small towel that had been draped across your shoulder. 

“Sorry, I know I’m gross. I’m about to take a shower. Maybe you want to join me?” You asked, thinking her reaction was for you being gross but you didn’t want to pass up the opportunity of showering with her. 

“No!” She said quickly, causing you to crinkle your nose at her. She realized what she said. “I mean yes! I want to shower with you! Not no! Not yet.” She said as she got out of bed and walked towards you. Your eyebrow turned upward as she walked towards you.

“Not yet?” You questioned as your hands reached out to her waist and then slid down to her hips, holding her softly.

“Not yet.” She whispered, repeating you with a small grin on her face. She leaned down and kissed your neck softly. Your hands squeezed at her hips as you pulled her body up against yours. She bit at your neck testingly causing you to yelp and flinch in surprise. She pulled her face back to look you in the eyes. “Too much?” She asked, her hands snaking across your body. Quickly, you shook your head.

“More.” You let out in only a whisper. Her grin returned and she stepped back, grabbing you by the shirt and dragging you to the bed.

[wish-i-were-heather]

A FOOL FOR YOU PT 4⤵ GRAYSON HAWTHORNE X READER

ABOUT: 2642 words, no use of y/n (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5)

STORY: well, y'know. you can't ignore a 911 text from a hawthorne

WARNINGS: none really, reader does struggle to swim tho and freaks out a little

TAGS: @littlemissmentallyunstable @gretag13 @lanterns-and-daydreams @whatsamongus @alwaysthefangirl @zuzanna-jadw1ga @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @low-caloriesmonsterultra @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @jimcarreyfann42 @ravishinglyliving @maybxlle - lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

A/N: EEK I LOVED WRITING THIS. i didn't describe the reader's swimsuit because i don't know what everyone is comfortable with so i let you kinda imagine it however u want! i'm not sure how many more parts i can get out of this idea, there'll definitely be at least one more lmk what u think tho

He said please. 

Grayson didn’t lack manners. It’s not that he didn’t know how to say please and thank you. But he also wasn’t the kind of person to throw around a plea lightly. Grayson Hawthorne was, well, a Hawthorne. The name itself was a demand, not requiring a please. But he’d felt the need to say please to you. 

Maybe you were overthinking it. 

Or maybe you were still in denial, like Avery said you were. 

The texts came in at eight at night, too, which only raised more questions in your mind. If he wanted to talk to you, why hadn’t he just found you? Or simply texted you to meet somewhere? You didn’t understand why he’d felt the need to use the 911; you would’ve come if he’d just told you to go to the pool. 

Hawthornes did tend to have a flare for dramatics, you supposed. 

You had no idea why Grayson wanted you to meet him at the pool. He was a swimmer, sure, but that was very much his personal time. Grayson didn’t often appreciate people watching or joining him in the pool. But, you figured there was a chance he expected you to.

So you found yourself at her door again. Despite the faint conversation you could hear from inside, you knocked. 

Avery took longer than last time to open the door. “What’s up?” She asked. 

“Hey. Uh, do you have a swimsuit I could borrow?”

She frowned slightly, confused. “I mean I do, yeah, but why-”

You didn’t even have to say anything. You just showed her your phone screen with the text messages. Her eyes widened as she read them and she immediately opened the door wider for you. “Get the hell in here.”

Avery was already digging through the grand dresser. As you entered the room behind her, you noticed Jameson sitting on the floor in front of a deck of cards, giving you a curious look. “What-”

“Not now, Jamie,” Avery quickly answered. “Girl problem.”

That shut him up. 

“Don’t mind him,” she told you, turning back around with a few items in hand. “We were just playing solitaire.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Together? Isn’t that a one player game?”

“His idea, not mine. Managed to turn it into a competition too, somehow,” Avery shrugged. Jameson gasped dramatically but she continued before he could speak, bringing your attention back to why you asked for help. “So, I’ve actually never worn this one before, you could keep it if you want. Or-”

“That one’s fine,” you interrupted, taking it from her. “Can I change in your bathroom?” “Oh, uh, yeah, sure I guess,” Avery answered, clearly confused as to why you were so quick to answer. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get there as soon as I can. Thanks.”

You didn’t change completely, just putting it on and putting your clothes back on over it. You didn’t plan on getting into the water, but it was worth being prepared.

As you were stepping out of the room and thanking Avery, Jameson called, “Say hi to Gray for me.”

Your head snapped back. “What?”

“Come on,” he smirked. “He’s practically the only person who uses the pool, especially at this time. So tell him I said hi.”

Shaking your head, you just ignored him. Jameson was the type of person who could read people well, so odds are he probably already knew he was right. But you didn’t want to give even more of a reaction to him than you already had. 

Avery grabbed your arm though, before you left. “Hey, hey, good luck.”

You thanked her and left, just hoping Jameson wouldn’t try to watch from the window. 

~~

The cool night air hit you sharply as you stepped outside. It hadn’t been too chilly during the day, but you now found yourself wishing you were in more than just shorts and a thin hoodie.

Shivering, you made your way over to the pool. Your mind was racing the whole way there, but there wasn’t really anything else for you to be wondering. Grayson had asked for you to come to the pool, presumably either to swim with him or just because he was most comfortable there. Either way, it was pretty clear that he wanted to discuss what happened when he was drunk. But you still didn’t understand why he sent the 911. 

Good thing you were on your way to finding out. 

The pool deck was empty, save for a few lounge chairs. The fancy cushioned kind, the ones you would only find at a hotel. And the Hawthorne mansion, of course. 

On one of the chairs were two neatly folded towels- two. So he did expect you to get in the water with him? Where was he anyway? If he’d already brought out towels, why wasn’t he-

Splash.

You’d been too caught up in your thoughts and the sound of your heart racing in your chest to realize that Grayson was, in fact, already in the pool. Swimming laps because he was Grayson Hawthorne, so of course he was swimming laps when the sun had already set and the only light in the sky was that of the stars. 

Swimming had never really been your thing, so you didn’t know the exact stroke, but you would’ve been a liar if you said you weren't somewhat mesmerized. The way his arms went up and out, the way his fingers glided along the surface before entering the water once again. His legs kicked together, the movement fast and almost indiscernible under the blue of surrounding him. 

Grayson came up for air so quickly you couldn’t even make out his face, but your eyes caught on the way his hair flicked up with his head. It was certainly a skill, and he managed it so gracefully. You struggled to look away.

Thankfully, you were pulled out of your stare when he suddenly reached the wall nearest to you. Grayson’s hands touched the edge of the pool in perfect sync. You could see the red in his face, the tire he was giving himself from swimming. You wondered how long he’d been there before you found him.

Grayson met your eyes with a tired smile as he caught his breath. “You came.”

“You said 911,” you explained, sitting on the edge of the chair where he’d set the towels. “I figured it was pretty important.” 

“Yes, I did.” He nodded. “We do only get one of those a year, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that to any of my brothers.”

“Got it.”

He was avoiding the elephant in the room. 

“Would you like to join me?”

You stared at him. “Excuse me?” 

“You’re excused,” he said. “Would you like to join me?”

Was he really just going to ignore the fact that he’d sent you such an urgent message? A 911 could’ve meant he was dying, for all you knew when you’d first received it. And what, it was because he wanted to go for a swim with you? There was more he wasn’t saying and you just wanted to yell at him to spit it out. 

Instead, you responded calmly. 

“Join you in the pool?”

Grayson looked you up and down and shook his head. “I suppose you can’t really, not without proper swimwear.”

You got in the pool in a suit when you were drunk, you didn’t say. 

“I have a bathing suit on under this,” you explained. “I just… why do I need to get in the water? Can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

He took a deep breath. 

“I’ve decided I owe you an apology. For what happened.” You knew immediately what he was referring to. “I was reckless and foolish and unintentionally put the burden of myself onto you. It would have been easier for you to just leave me be, but you dealt with my mess. I appreciate that.” 

The silence that followed was only interrupted by the gentle lapping of the pool.

“See why I figured you should get in?” He asked. “We’d be at an even level. Better suited for such a conversation.”

“Or you could just get out,” you offered. 

“Please?” 

That word again.

Grayson Hawthorne knew what he was doing. 

“Fine,” you groaned, but really only half annoyed. You turned around as you began to take off the layers above the swimsuit, watching him in the corner of your eye as he looked away respectfully.

The cold hit you even harder now that you had removed your hoodie, and you hoped that the pool was well heated. 

“Okay, okay.” You began walking over to the edge of the pool where Grayson was. When his eyes found you, he stared for a little longer than normal before answering.

“You’re nervous,” he observed. “Can you swim?”

You shrugged, taking another step closer. “I know how to stop myself from drowning.”

Grayson moved out of your way and you sat on the edge of the pool with your feet getting wet. It was heated, thankfully. Comfortably so. No wonder he loved to come here at night. 

He was watching you silently. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it was killing you. Not that anyone could ever tell what Grayson Hawthorne hid behind those piercing eyes, but yet another question amidst everything that had happened that week was too much.

Of course he’s a mystery, he’s a Hawthorne. 

Before you could overthink it even further, you got in.

The warmth of the water enveloped you, contrasting greatly with the chill of the night air. You were holding onto the wall, not planning on letting go because your swimming skills were just barely above that of a child starting swim lessons. But Grayson’s intense gaze kept your heart racing. 

He swam towards you, grabbing onto the wall a little closer but still leaving a respectful distance between you. “Do you know why I sent the 911?”

“No,” you admitted. “It scared me.”

“I apologize for that. I panicked.”

You hadn’t expected that confession from him.

“You panicked?”

He nodded slowly. “I was afraid you’d think less of me after how I acted. You haven’t spoken to me in days, so I wasn’t sure you’d come otherwise.” The vulnerability in his voice was tangible.

“It’s not that I’ve been trying to avoid you, Grayson,” you explained. “I just… I mean, you haven’t spoken to me either.”

“I thanked you, I thought we were past what happened. I didn’t think we needed to talk about it.”

“You thanked me and then flirted and walked away.”

Grayson raised an eyebrow. “Did I?”

“You know very well what you did,” you said, trying to hide the blush on your face. 

He swam a little closer. His voice dropped to the same sincere tone it had adopted back when he was drunk. When you’d told him to be careful and he’d cupped your face. When he said he’d never hurt you, never. 

“Perhaps I do. But that doesn’t change the fact that I burdened you with my drunk self.”

“You’re not a burden, Grayson,” you told him, also pushing yourself closer to him along the wall. “It was no problem, really. Just a little entertaining.”

He chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or bitter. 

The way he was looking at you was making you feel something. Something you couldn’t name but… didn’t quite hate. You started to move yourself a little closer to him until-

Splash.

Your hand slipped off the edge of the pool, accidentally sending you back. Not exceptionally far or deep into the pool, but enough to make you panic. You could keep yourself afloat, sure, but not when you were suddenly pushed away from the only solid thing keeping your head above water.

But before you could fully let the panic set in, a strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you upwards.

The sensation of being lifted was disorienting. You were overwhelmed by the sudden rush of water and movement, then the lack of water as your head reached the surface again. Even if you’d barely been below the water for a few seconds, you found yourself gasping for air. 

Grayson’s arm around you was the only steady thing in the chaos.

“Hey, hey” Grayson spoke, and it took a moment for your startled mind to process the words. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to focus. It took a moment for your breathing to calm down, but you helped yourself by rationalizing it; you’d been under the water for maybe five seconds, there was no need to panic so much.

The shock had just gotten you.

His voice broke through again, focusing your vision and hearing on him. “Just breathe, in and out. Nice and slow, just like that.”

You followed his instructions, taking deep breaths. Your panic began to fade, and you became painfully aware of how close he now was to you, the proximity at which he held you.

Grayson didn’t let go as you calmed down, simply keeping you tucked protectively in his arm as if the water was threatening you. He used his free hand to reach up and brush a wet strand of hair from your face behind your ear. The gesture was so gentle, so careful, that you felt your heart flutter.

“Are you alright?” He asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I think so. Thank you.”

He only nodded in return, his usually sharp gray eyes beginning to soften as he stared down at you. He didn’t move his hand away after moving the hair out of your face. It stayed there, lingering around your ear, until he decided to move down, cupping your face.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the first time that shirtless Grayson Hawthorne was holding your face in his large hands and looking at you in a way that was more than an annoyed glance. 

But it felt different this time. More intense, more real. 

He wasn’t drunk, not hungover; there was no doubt in your mind that he really meant everything. His eyes were still locked on yours with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place, yet somehow felt deep within your core. 

He leaned forward, so close to you that your foreheads were almost touching. His eyes fluttered shut and you realized what was happening only after you felt the words he whispered against your lips-

“I’m sorry.”

Grayson closed the small gap between you, gently pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant at first, like he was giving you the chance to pull away or tell  him to stop. But when you didn’t, when you leaned into the kiss, the arm around you tightened.

Your hands moved on their own, both sliding their way up to rest on his chest. He responded to your touch with a low hum that made you shiver despite the heated pool. 

His arm moved up to the back of your head, pushing you impossibly closer to him. The kiss grew more urgent, more desperate, like he was trying to express every emotion he’d been hiding for the past week. It was overwhelming, and for a moment nothing existed outside of you and Grayson Davenport Hawthorne.

When he pulled back, you kept your eyes closed. Grayson placed a small kiss on your forehead before resting it against his own. You were so close now, much closer than before, but that didn’t matter anymore.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” he admitted softly.

“Me too, Grayson,” you grinned. “Me too.”

When he kissed you again, he tasted like those stupid cherries he loved and felt like the end of the world.

the writing above belongs to me. please do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own. © 2024 wish-i-were-heather

[hearts4chriss]

Tape that shit.

Boyfriend Chris x only fans girlfriend

prompt: you ask Chris if he wants to film some content w u and he obviously says yes

Part 6

warnings: sex tape ??, creampie,pet names ( baby, good boy, slut, ma, mama ), toys, 69, reverse cowgirl, overstimulation, sub!Chris, fat assed reader

I’m a cam girl, I do only fans.

I make my money

I met Chris beforehand tho and I took a break once we got together, I did tell him and boy was excited every time he’d get a “ding!” From my onlyfans he’d immediately go watch them and send me a video of him jerking off to my picture or video.

That’s when I got an idea

Why don’t I ask Chris, my man, to film some with me?

I’m sure he’d say yes.

Just the thought of him whimpering for me, and me moaning his name as we’re in 69, my ass grinding on his pretty as I suck his dick and he whimpers and eats my pussy. I’d place a vibrator on his tip teasing him as well, making him cum twice, already seeing him fucked out but I wouldn’t be done

reverse cowgirl, I know we’ve never tried this position surprisingly because I’m a freakk but first time for everything. Just picturing his face when my ass is riding his fat cock in his face he’d absolutely fucking loose his mind.

I can’t wait to see his pretty little face as I fuck him

so I quickly got off my bed and did my edges throwing on some lashes and some lip gloss before slipping on my matching pink lace panties and bra, the thong hugged my curves perfectly and my thigh tattoo shown off right in front of him and the small tattoo on my ass “Chris”

I quickly pull out my phone and send Chris a pic

my man💋💋

damn baby you look good as fuck what’s the occasion?

my girl🤍

wanna film some content with me :)

Chris’s pov

the second she sent that I immediately felt my dick press against my boxers and I groan. I’ve been waiting for her to ask me this. How could I say no?

my man💋💋

shittt I’m omw rn do not move.

my girl🤍

good boy :)

Good boy?? She’s only called me that once..she’s never been dominant towards me but maybe today’s the day and fuck I can’t wait.

***knock knock***

I hear him knock and finish setting up the cameras and lights in my bedroom making sure you could capture all angles. The cameras would start recording any moment now.

I walk downstairs making sure I look good and I then open the door.

“hey baby”. I say leaning on the doorway smirking a bit seeing Chris’s jaw drop the moment he saw me.

“let’s go- upstairs now- “he says trying to get me upstairs but I quickly stop him and he raises an eyebrow.

“oh ur gonna be submissive today baby, get ur ass on my bed.”I say pointing upstairs

“oh yes ma’am.” He says his lips curving into a small smirk and he goes upstairs seeing my set up.

“Ba- “I stop him by pushing him on my bed crawling over to him straddling my ass on his lap and he groans.

“Someone’s needy already, haven’t even touched you yet.” I chuckle my hands pressing onto his clothed dick and he clenched his fist in frustration.

“F-fuckk- “Chris moans begging for my attention and hands on him.

“hm I’m curious how long have you been waiting for me?” I mock him beginning to pull down his sweatpants seeing his boxers with a wet patch and Chris’s cheeks flush red.

“it’s okay baby just be a good boy and I’ll take care of you I promise”. I say softly and he nods eagerly

“P-please I’ll be so good mama”- he whines and whimpers desperate now.

I pull his boxers down and grip the base of his lengthy cock seeing pre cum oozing from the red tip.

“Such a pretty cock baby”. I kiss the tip and he whimpers and I smile taking of my thong straddling his chest.

“69?” Chris asks looking up at me before peering to all the cameras and gulping and I smirk

I nodded placing my pussy in his face and my hand grips the base of dick.

“Ready mama?” The desperate boy says holding my ass spreading it open to have more access for him.

“Yes baby whenever you are.” I say turning on the vibrator pressing it on the tip and he whimpers loudly.

“Mmph fuck-“ he groans before diving his tongue into my wetness making me moan out his name in curses as he sucks on my pussy harshly.

“O-oh fuck Chris! S-shit-“ i let my jaw drop steadily running the vibrator on the throbbing veins of his cock his hand grip my ass tightly with desperation licking between my folds.

Chris pulls my thighs closer to his head nuzzling his nose into my cunt dripping for him.

His cock twitched in my hand with anticipation needing to cum desperately as I gave his tip a few kisses making him squirm.

I pressed the vibrator more on his tip and I saw his toes curl and I smirked slapping Chris’s dick on my tongue and he moaned into my pussy as I moaned out his name

“Fuck-yes baby so good-“ I cried out his name while slapping his dick on my tongue with the vibrator running along his veins and he twitched in my hand

“s-shit ma I’m gonna cum!” Chris whimpers his hot breath enough to make me squirt all over his face as I stroked him faster allowing his warm load to shoot on my hand coating it.

“Fuck-“ he breathed out as I moved from his face and saw how wet he was, his face glistening in the light of my room with my cum but I wasn’t finished.

I turned off the vibrator throwing it to the side leaving a deep kiss on his lips and he moaned into it trying to pull me back.

“Baby-“!he whined and I chuckled.

“wanna try something new?” I asked giving him those eyes seeing his cock perk up along with his eyes.

“Sure Mama what is it.” Chris asked biting his lip slightly.

“wanna try reverse cowgirl?” I said running my fingers along his thigh winking at my camera.

“Oh fuck- yes I would-“ Chris mutters his dick twitched at the though of this position.

I smirk and move myself to face my ass towards him and I position myself on his cock sliding down easily feeling him stretch out my walls.

“F-fuckk chris- ur so big-“ I moan beginning to bounce a bit slowly at first his dick slickly sliding in and out of me easily.

“O-oh shit baby- ur s-so tight-“ Chris groans sitting back his hand caressing my hip watching me ride him.

fuck- I can't believe the internet is about to see how Good Chris and I fuck was all that ran through my mind. His cock sliding in and out of my slick walks and his whimpers from being overstimulated was enough to make nearly cum but fuck- it was hot.

I started twerking on his dick while I was riding him in Reverse cowgirl and hearing him moan "shit" from behind I knew was enjoying that.

“Fuck- ur so hot mama-“ he whimpers grabbing my ass and leaving a smack on my right making me whimper as he did the same feeling my ass move on his thighs watching it twerk right in front of him, Chris was a major ass guy so I knew this would send him over the edge.

“Yeah? you like when I twerk on ur cock baby?” I bite my lip turning around chris looked so fucked out seeing me like this on him.

“oh fuck- yes-fuck yes- “the boy moans desperately slapping my ass and I chuckle beginning to bounce on him again at a much faster pace, curses and moans leaving both of our mouths.

I rolled my hips a bit as he groaned deeply, his dick meeting my pelvis hearing him squirm was so damn hot.

“SHIT- oh fuckk- “!he whimpers gripping my ass tightly for sure leaving a few marks.

I felt Chris's cock twitch inside my walls as they closed in on him and he squirms rocking my ass harder begging for a release.

“fuck- be a good boy and cum for me- deep inside me baby.” I breath out heavily and chris moans loudly.

“F-fuck ma i'll be a good boy- Fuck! I promise.” Chris whines begging for a orgasm practically.

I bounced on him harder my ass slapping on his thighs.

“FUCK-“ Chris yells as he released his cum deep inside me.

“Hold on baby I gotta cum to.” I smirk before flipping myself back to face him and I gripped his shoulders steadying my body so I could ride him.

“Mmph- mama- s-so good-“ his whimpers fill my ears as my stomach feels hot and I start rubbing my swollen clit chasing my orgasm.

Chris's hands grip my ass helping bounce me on his dick and I cry out his name.

“S-shit baby- fuck im gonna cum!” I throw my head back his hand replaced mine and allowing me to squirt over his cock and lower stomach.

“Fuck baby-“ he groans as I slide off of him and stop my camera and turn off my lights.

“Shit- I need to film with you more often ma- fuck ur so good- “He lies back on the pillows and i smile.

“Oh I already have plans for what to do you next”. I smirk and he raises an eyebrow

“Whats that baby?” He chuckles sitting up and I lean over to his lips

"bondage".

taglist !!

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@nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt  @theyluv-meee @mattsnymphette @hoesformatt @luv4kozume @iiheartstef @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @junnniiieee07

[honestsycrets]

dedication | young!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | young geneticist!miguel o'hara x scientist!reader

❛ type | oneshot, explicit.

❛ summary | alchemax is a dangerous place to work. miguel's new assistant may be over her head. maybe he can help her, though.

❛ tags | virgin reader, f!reader, shitty science, plot heavy, loose canon references, literary liberties, loss of virginity, overprotective Miguel o'hara, jealous miguel o'hara, some objectification, workplace politics, aftercare (as requested), corruption (is it tho?), bc what bc, Spanish is not translated, young!miguel, heel-foot fetish, somewhat romantic.

❛ fulfilled request | can we please have a miguel x virgin reader and he didn’t even know until he was already putting it in?? And then voila his corruption kink unexpectedly growS? @a--dedicated--fangirl

❛ sy’s notes | miguel sort of works on that whole corruption aspect throughout this fic, but i wanted to meld these two ideas together to create a reader who is entirely dedicated to Miguel. This piece was a bit long for me.

“Miguel, your new assistant is here.” 

On paper, you’re an excellent candidate for the genetics program. 

An excellent GPA, renowned company internships, decent publications, and a diverse upbringing. It was all good. Great, even. But as the head of the genetics program at Alchemax, he has a little thing called priorities. Interviewing everyone himself was low on the rung of shit he felt like he should be doing. There was, however, one little, itty bitty, tiny problem with bringing you on board.

“Dr. O’Hara? ¿Estas bien?”

That shirt-- is not meant to hold those-- His brain was left field, glimpsing at them. A slightly sheer button-up revealed the outline of your bustier and its inability to conceal your body. They should have been illegal. He was pretty sure they were illicit in the handbook on his table. He should really read that again. Maybe then he wouldn’t be salivating over something as simple as a co-worker-- He needed to get out of the lab. The bleached walls tightened around him, the space smaller than he remembered. He was going to get caught.

Realistically, the lab was full of witty people. Many of them were witty men with subpar looks and stupider dicks. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. Not only because your lips were plump, painted petal-pink, and kissable or because the depth of your sultry eyes went straight in the dick. No, but because that would be improper of a man of his stature to tell one of the only women in his care that she was too gorgeous for the job you were clearly qualified for. 

“Sí, coño,” He fixed his glasses, crooked on his broad nose. He stood up from his desk and grabbed his lab coat, swirling it around his broad shoulders. If he wasn’t mistaken, you tracked the movement with your eyes. “Do you want a cafecito? Miss…”

You told him your name. He mulled it over on his tongue, lathing it in a gentle acknowledgment. Cemented it in a place he wouldn't forget. You tinked your head to the side, your lashes fluttering when he cleared his throat. Great, just shocking-- 

“After you,” he headed for the door. He held it open for you, plastering his back to the wood. It didn't matter. You slid by closer than he’d prefer, your hand catching on his belt buckle with muttered apologies. This wasn’t going to end well. 

Cafecito is an excellent excuse to pull his dumbass together. 

It also calms his nerves, centers his mind, and allows him to compartmentalize. Whether or not you could hold your own wasn’t his issue, his issue was the necessity of someone he could trust. Ugly, beautiful-- so long as they were efficient, Miguel would make due. The cafeteria was a large and clean space. The many tables were crowded with wrap-around stations for poorly crafted, misery-inducing meals. Miguel paid and took a seat at a creaky table. One where he could see the door open, shut, and keep an eye on the comings and goings of meager scientists and annoying managers. 

“You’ll be working with me.” 

You pursed your lips around the warm cup of coffee, taking a ginger sip. He noted your lipstick stain that remained as you pushed the cup toward the middle of the table you shared with him. This damn suit vest was stifling. He gave you a long, slow look, tilting his head to the fact that you’d not drunk anything. It’d be rude to acknowledge.

“Delgado told me,” you smiled warmly. “He said you’re a genius. I don’t know that I believe in geniuses.” 

Hmph. Delgado, things fell into place. That sycophant knew what he liked. He also knew that Miguel was better than him, always was, and always would be. Miguel offered you a slick smile, convinced he could assure you otherwise if he needed to. “Delgado says a lot of things. I’m surprised he gave you to me.”

“Why is that, O’Hara?” the way his name slipped off your tongue was a hot sin. If only he believed in a god. His eyelids shifted over his eyes, heavy-lidded and dark.

“You’re beautiful. He likes to collect beautiful things,” Miguel tried, curious.  Your nails clicked in succession over the table. A repetitive click, click, click. He would be annoyed too if he were no more than a ploy. A distraction. Miguel wasn’t sure that it wasn’t working. His eyes flickered down, catching one of your palms curling into a tight fist, tension rolling through your fingers and up your arms. “He knows I do too.” 

You leaned in, close enough that he could spot the unique freckles spread out in a crescent moon beneath a layer of makeup on your face. Beautiful. “I’m not here to belong to you, O’Hara. I hope you know that.” 

He was off to a great, fantastic start.

 “Understood.” Miguel leaned back in his chair, a smirk creeping up his lips. Or, believe that you believed that. You spared him any more mincing comments. Appeased by his suggestion, you brought your drink back to your lips.

“Good. What are we sequencing?” 

“Me.” 

You swallowed. “You? You can’t be--” 

Mhm, he stared, lips pressed tightly together. “You’ll code my DNA. Then we’ll splice it.” 

"With what?"

"You'll see."

“Is this your little,” you swirled your finger in a circle. “Pet project?” 

Unfortunately not, he would have liked to say. That information was confidential, and though you worked on the project, there were levels to his willingness to involve you in the delicate flow of workplace politics. Still, you might make a healthy distraction from his work. Miguel took a swig of his cafecito, boring into the black substance.

“Something like that.” 

Having a pretty assistant means things don’t always get done according to schedule. Not quickly enough, not by far. There is a time limit to everything at Alchemax. The quicker, the better. Thus this project demanded more hours of his time. The project was spliced between the work required of him by superiors and you, your quirks, and your preferences. 

Miguel has learned a great many things about you in a short amount of time. You don’t appreciate misplaced pet names. You actually can’t handle coffee because of the caffeine or the sugar. He also learns things about himself. How little he likes when Delgado comes to check on progress because he isn’t actually checking on shit. He's checking you out. 

He likes to weasel his nasty fingers around the door, peering in to try and find out what specimen he’s actually working on. Miguel was much too smart for that. His beady eyes caught Miguel over your shoulder, mumbling up to him about a new finding in tests you ran earlier that day. Your face mask twirled around your index finger, finally free and at a documentation workspace.   Funny, because he clearly redacts information from your well-recorded notes on the daily. You refuse to include less.

“Hey Mike,” he said. “How are things… Oh hey, you. You settling in, honey? Mike treating you ok? I can discipline him for you.”

“As if you could,” Miguel huffed. 

But Delgado spying on you, the way you record progress by pouting out your lips, shifting between paper and your lab reports, was intolerable. Because... well, he has sensitive information on there. Your nose scrunches in distaste, but you bow your head just slightly as a hello. He might be his supervisor, but Miguel doesn’t need one to know why this asshole is in his lab turning his smarmy brown eyes over the way you sit: one leg over the other. You seem to realize it too, trailing your eyes over his gaudy suit to Miguel’s sinewy hand on your shoulder. 

“Stop being a creep,” Miguel complained, “She has actual work to do.”

“Actual work? As opposed to--“

“Yes, what you do.” Miguel spat out. You eschewed a giggle, turning your face over a pristine white lab jacket that thankfully, you had no qualms in wearing. Otherwise, he might not finish any work in the lab at all. 

“I supervise--

“You’re still talking but we’re not listening,” Miguel waved him off, plucking up papers by your side. Your eyes snap up to Miguel’s deep chocolate eyes hidden behind the thin frame of his metal glasses, waiting for a proper response. “Goodbye, Aaron.”

Miguel walks to the door, locks it with a click, and returns to your side. You glance at his white lab coat, fluttering around his tapered waist. He loves the way your eyes look at him with a soft, inviting expression, beseeching him to come to sit by your side as he always did. “Not a fan of Delgado, I take it.” 

“Are you?” Miguel sits with his legs spread, his fingers threading through his thick brown hair. You set your papers down, swiveled toward him. The wheels of your rolling chair squeak on either side of his thick, black boots. His eye catches your thick thighs, squashed between your midi skirt, its atrocious slip causing him discomfort. His hand leaves his thick hair, dropping in unison side by side. 

“I can’t stand being called honey, Mike.” 

“Shut up.”

The days proceed similarly. Days filled with brushing past him as he slides in samples and reagents. He might lose a sample, clattering on the floor, and you always rush to help him clean up. Lunch together, because no matter how late he eats, you’re there beside him. Then as night falls, you stay until he has finished whatever he needs to do.

“Time to eat something,” you slipped into his office. The clock ticked past midnight. Miguel flicked through handwritten pages of information that did not need to be recorded in computer files. You watched his eyes scan over the ink on the page, acknowledging you with a grumpy grunt. Not now, not when he was so close to finishing the last section of the project.

“Empanada,” you turned his palm over, placing the flaky pastry in his hand. Caramelized apple. He loved a good apple empanada. He watched as you walked over to the coffee maker, drawing him a warm cafecito just how he liked it. Miguel dropped his pen, stretching out his aching spine. 

“Gracias. From where?” 

“I made them,” you set down the cup a little harder than intended. The surface rippled, throwing hot coffee drips onto his pages. His eyes flickered up from the pages to your eyes. Without thinking, he blathers:

“That so?” A pause. “Don’t you have a man?” 

“Miguel. With this sequencing project, you’re the only man in my life. Shut up and eat the empanada.” 

“Huh. Good. I like that.” He swallowed the empanada with a bob of his head, his tongue lathing over his teeth for any more of the sweet sugar. He stood up, finding your expression soft, drawn out by a sense of longing that he couldn’t imagine he saw.  

“You like my sad love life?” 

Yes.

“No, we have a company event. A ball,” Miguel chided, his tone gentling as he slipped away from his desk, abandoning his steamy coffee on his desk. He backed out of the doorway, “It’s all Stone’s politics. You know how these things are. I have to go. Come with me.” 

“Is that a request or an order?” 

“A date.” 

I’d love to. Your words were the only thing that made tonight bearable. Slinking his tanned skin into a dark blue suit that cinched everything too tight was… unbearable. It clung to his skin like a second skin and choked off his air. But it might be worth it to see your face-- just maybe. He tracked the fluttering tails of fish behind bulletproof glass, following them as they fluttered away into their rock. He wished he could too. 

“Miguel?” 

“You’re here,” he turned around, dropping the champagne he idly held in his hand. It went forgotten by his boot as you called his name again. His gaze fixed on yours, the slinky navy blue dress caused his heart to thrum through his chest, chasing the sight of your body at his feet, picking shards of glass up with the aid of a worker, apologizing profusely for the mess. A soft puff of breath slipped from his lips as you stood back up, gripping your purse a little harder in your hands. He ran his hand over his jaw, drawing himself back to his senses.

“Miggy,” he husked out. “Call me Miggy.” 

“You look handsome, Miggy,” his name felt unreal on your lips until he felt the pressure on his elbow. Your soft hands slunk around his, cradling him for some security in the face of the large doors. He shook himself back to his senses. Right, there was a reason he was here. “But shouldn’t we go?” 

He should have-- but did he want to? No, not really. He didn’t want to see Stone’s greasy face, let Aaron take a peek at how you looked dolled up, or any of the rest of these fuckers. What he wanted was something else entirely. 

“Listen.” Miguel stopped, his other hand coming to the jeweled bracelet on your wrist. The doors to the ballroom lapsed, groups of older men filtering in and out with their pieces of the night: doting wives, longing husbands, and partners that their wives or husbands probably didn’t know about. “Don’t wander off from me. They’re all snakes. All of them.” 

“Even you?” 

“Hermosa,” you didn’t leer at him. “I’m the least of your worries.” 

He wasn’t wrong. The ballroom was dolled up in lush fabrics, fine china, and a copious amount of food as it was every year. Miguel found the attempt to distract from what really went on behind closed doors at Alchemax a bit cloying. This year the music was at least tolerable. It filtered out into the ballroom in a syrupy melodies driven on by the soft, promises of rich men for the exchange of sex. For much of the night, he could stomach the various men poking and prodding at him about his impending research. So long as you were here.

“Miggy,” you breathed, a hot puff of air against his ear. He leaned down, his hand atop of yours. “Will you dance with me?” 

Dance? Miguel had two left feet-- it’s why he was a geneticist. For all the work you did on his behalf in the lab, including this very night, he owed you the benefit of whatever you wanted. He searched out a quiet area, one where the only disruption could be the stream of moonlight in through a window. You preferred it over the wall of vivacious men and over-powdered women. He preferred it over the atrocity of his footwork.

“It’s not much of a date,” Miguel’s hand slid around yours. He encompassed your small palm with his large hand, the other gliding across the soft, exposed skin of your back. You swayed with him, side to side. He was an awful dancer, but there was something endearing about that. He saw it in your eyes, the glimmer of curiosity, gliding your dark heels against the inside of his foot. Damn, he still sucked.

“No,” you agreed, shifting to take the lead. He followed your steps. Right, back, left, up. Maybe he stepped on your long dress once or twice, too. Shock, he cursed again, stepping over your foot.

“You’re remarkably bad at this.” You settled your head on his chest, letting your box steps fade into little more than the shifting of your hips. 

“I know. Let’s just-- sway?” 

“Swaying is good.”  

“O’Hara,” boomed Stone. But of course— peace couldn’t last forever. Like a bullet through the chest, a voice caused him to turn in startle. His tan cheeks flushed with warmth, feeling cut off from the cover of others. He was dressed in the most gaudy of clothes that almost seemed to match the crooked expression on his pale face. No matter how many times he tried to fix it, it always looked… wrong. 

Stone’s hands came together, clapping multiple times to force the crowd of politicians, scientists, and bought-in participants to fade away. His voice caused Miguel to growl, a low rumbly noise that you soothed with your breasts pushing gingerly against his arm. He could do it. He could handle this pompous little shit-- “And who is this beauty? A new girlfriend, perhaps? Fiance? O’Hara could do with a wife. Settle him down, y’know.”

Miguel huffed out of his nostrils. “This is my lab partner,” he cleared his throat, leaning forward. “For… the project.”

“Her? A lab partner? Ha!” 

Shock. He didn’t have to look at you to know you were insulted. Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing out the tension as you smiled through the interaction, taking over for Miguel. “We have measurable results.” 

“That’s what I like to hear, sweet thing. Now, Miguel, Aaron has found a test subject…”

“I’ll interview them.” 

“No need! I--” 

“Excuse me, Mr. Stone. I’ll let you two talk,” you slipped away, your heels clicking off into the busy crowd. Stone was talking. Miguel knew he should listen closely. His half-formed plan to see what the future held for his research was wafting into the air, wisps of it in his ear. Tomorrow-- test-- can you? Panic blinded his senses. He could find you nowhere in the room, and even if he did, would he be too late? 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine, it’s… excuse me.” 

The issue with falling for someone was the scythe of his fear. His position was inherently risky. No matter how many groups of people he cut through trying to find you, you weren’t there. No tiny little appetizers of shrimp on half a skewer. No booze, because your head would swim. Not near the bathrooms, either. He rushed down the steps when he found you, just before the large iron gates, staring up at the stars peppering the sky. 

At your feet, Aaron. His drunken fingers trying and failing to guide the strap off of your ankle. You, of course, sat there staring dumbly down at his failed attempts to do something as simple as fix your damn heel.

“I’ll take it from here.” Miguel booted Aaron out of the way. Who, with his sloppy sloshed curses, tried to win a fight with him. He eventually won out. Aaron slunk away, somewhere up the steps. Miguel wasn’t counting. “You didn’t listen.” 

“Hm?” 

Miguel loosened both straps, sliding his open palm under your foot for one then the other. You gazed at him, sliding the black heels off your feet, tutting his tongue at the blistered back of your feet. 

“I told you not to wander off.” 

“I just wanted to see the stars. Besides, it was just Aaron.” 

“It’s never just Aaron. It’s Aaron and Stone.” Miguel’s eyebrows pushed against one another, recording your failure to listen. You crossed one leg over the other, sliding your toes over his silk tie, kept beneath a vest. He knelt before you, searching your eyes for the right answer. “You don’t know… what you’re getting into. I’m trying to keep you safe.” 

 “I don’t need you to. I can take care of myself, Miguel. Please don’t--” you sighed. “Don’t be like them.” 

He knew what you meant. Like Aaron, peeling off your shoes at the sign of discomfort because you were a pretty woman. Or Stone, who couldn’t comprehend your value as a scientist. Those who doubted you because of your color, gender, or a mixture of the two. His mouth twisted in frustration. He was in deep. Whatever you desired, he wanted to give. It came at a price.

“Are you mine,” the words came out stiff, “or theirs?” 

“Miggy,” you turned the word over on your tongue, willing him to stand down. His dark eyes settled on yours, unmoving. “Why do I have to pick?” 

“You can’t have both. You’ll have to choose. One day.” 

Your mind worked. He knew from the way you pursed your lip out, then in, puncturing its pillowy surface with your teeth. You shifted your gaze to the water, the stream coursing down the unfeeling stone. Miguel's fingers ran across your inner thigh, causing you to gaze down at him. The steps of others on the other side of the fountain, fading into the depths of the night caused you to break his gaze. Miguel offered you his hand, fitting the shoes under his other arm as he walked toward the valet. You took his hand and interlaced your fingers.

“Do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” you said, though the words felt thready and thin, nary a whisper. Something in the undercurrent of your voice concerned him. A thread that needed to be snipped, convinced of the vileness of the city-- of who you worked for. 

He doesn’t make mistakes. 

But he left the project code on his desk. It should have been there, yet, the corpse of a decrepit, awful creature withered on the lab floor proved otherwise. Someone had taken it because he was distracted. As a result, someone lost their life... even if it was Stone's doing.

Now, scouring through his papers, his hands tremored like a common drug addict. He supposed he was one, a druggie, tremoring like a shot hungry, Rapture crazed-- 

“Miggy?” 

He snapped around. His gaze melded your figure into one beautiful blurb, even with the glasses on his broad nose. It was your voice, coded in something close to concern. Miguel ran his hands through his hair, long strands falling messily over his eyes and cheekbones. He flattened his hands out atop his head.

“What are you looking for?” 

“The notes,” he weathered a breath. He doddered about the room, throwing a stack of paper onto the floor. They crumpled over the floor, mixed projects, notes on the specimen, but none were his. “Where are my notes?” 

“You’re sick,” your voice broke gently, as if speaking them alone helped. A horrid crack of laughter slipped from his throat, drawing into a long lament as he repeated the words after you. Sick, you said, he was sick. If being sick was the least of his issues, he would have been a happy man. Your steps rang into his ear, heavier than before, painful and loud. He crumpled onto the couch in his office, his hands cupping them. Your soft hands coursed over his chest, unbuttoning his starched button-up and sliding it down his muscular upper arms. “This might hurt.” 

No kidding, needles always hurt. But the instantaneous relief that flooded his system overrode the momentary pain. As your fuzzy figure came into focus, he recognized the drug that you set aside. 

“You didn’t--” 

“You were right, Miggy, about the-- Mr. Sims.”  Miguel gazed at you, leafing through novels of notes with trembling hands. He cursed himself for subjecting you to seeing that. Not quite human, not quite... The twisted look on the poor man’s face. What months of research with one another had offered. He would fix it. He knew the research was on point. It was the application that was lacking.

“I have a copy of your notes,” you murmured as if someone could hear. They likely could. “¿Ay, puñeta, dónde está? Ah! Here, here it is. Your… profile.” 

“You kept it,” he glanced down at the hastily scribbled note attached to the clip. ‘Miguel’s profile’ alongside a soft pink heart. He stopped your hands from thumbing through another leaflet. His eyes traced the dry ink of the heart. His thumb moved to stroke it, catching the sight of bubbling tears welling over in your eyes out of the corner of his eye. The tears slid down your full cheeks, triggering his discomfort to well up in his stomach. Miguel shifted closer, flicking fat droplets off your slight jaw.

“Hermosa,” Miguel shifted his head, cocking his eyebrow. “¿Que te pasa?”

“I should have listened to you Miggy,” you began, inhaling air forcefully through your nostrils. Breathe, you murmured. Miguel's soft hand cupped the back of your neck like a collar. You were happy to be collared by his hand, it felt safe. 

His eyes narrowed, thumb caressing the loose strands of hair at your nape. “You should have. You know I'll take care of you."

You nodded.

"You have to be fully dedicated to me.” 

“I am.” 

“Show me.” You fluttered your eyes, the gears of your mind working to understand what he meant. His hand fell away to trace the bow of your black blouse. He tugged on the knot, slipping the bow loose and running his fingers over your exposed cleavage below. “Take off the blouse.” 

Was it necessary? Some might have said no-- but sex, in its connective nature-- was the ultimate dedication. At the end of it all, that's what he craved: your eyes, your actions, all born with him in mind. With trembling fingers, you untucked your shirt from your black slacks. Miguel sat back, tracking the soft lace of your balconette bra teasing his eye. You loitered for a minute too long, enough for him to lift his thick eyebrow.

“Don’t stop now,” he said. Your knees knocked together, slipping the shirt over and off your torso before draping it on the arm of his couch. Your bra followed quickly after, slipping out of the twisted straps. You skimmed your hands over your breasts, holding them for comfort.

"No." Miguel flicked his fingers, motioning for your hands to move from your thick nipples.  You pushed your breasts together, allowing him to marvel at them a second longer. “Que maravilla... You have no idea how long I’ve waited. Go on, take off the rest now.” 

You suckled in breath, sliding the button of your pants loose. Then the zipper, its cloth scratching your thighs on its way to pool around your ankles. You stepped out of them, joining them too with your shirt. Miguel sat up, running his calloused fingers over the side of your hip and waist. His thumbs hooked in your panties, drawing them down over your pussy, a moist spot on your panties connecting a small string of wetness to your pussy. His palm slid between your thighs, pinned by your thighs pressed together, whether out of an innate need for more pressure or shyness to show him how wet you were. Hm. Miguel melded your ass, striking your skin with his large palm, it jiggled.

“Miggy,” you breathed, shy and intimidated. “I have to tell you something…” 

“Lay down,” he told you. 

“But Miggy, what if someone…” Your eyes darted away from his, chewing on his cheek as you slid back down beside him. You settled on the couch, your legs thrown over his thighs. The couch was stiff, hard against your neck. You stole a haughty glimpse at his face, focused entirely on coursing his palms over your calves and thighs, then back down to your slight toes. He ground your feet over his stiff cock, obscured by the fabric of his slacks. He felt big-- bigger than you could have imagined from the look on your face. 

“¡Basta!” Miguel growled, “No one is going to come in. Let me see you.” 

You flushed. 

“You want me to…” you glanced down, your curls were soft to the touch. 

“Touch yourself for me.” 

With your heart strumming in your chest, you shifted your hand down, spreading your lips, soft and wet. You were so wonderfully shy to follow his orders, the pads of your fingers rubbing along your outer lips, massaging them warm and swollen. You buried your eyes into your other arm, dragging up and down, over and over. A delightful sigh greeted his ear, ensuring that though you were too embarrassed to look at him, you loved it. He allowed it for now-- because he was a gracious, forgiving man. 

“Shock,” Miguel shuffled at the button and zipper of his pants, freeing himself from his slacks. He spat into his palm, stroking over his fleshy length, squishing his cock against your foot. Your toes curled over his cockhead, engrossed in Miguel’s rumbling pants, the soft pleasure that bloomed from his chest. Your eyes trained on his lips, the slight breath suckled between his teeth. Your fingers glazed over your stiff clit, pausing as though you needed his permission, just how he wanted it. Your sweet submission. 

His eyebrow perked. “You can touch it.” 

“Oh,” you glanced down, tracing the way Miguel fisted himself, swirling up to his cockhead, along fat veins and the bubble of salty fluid on his tip. His permission seemed to spur something else in you, flicking your swollen clit to the sound of his pleasured growling, your own pleasure growing in tandem with his. 

“¡Ya!” he annunciated, watching as you failed to stop. All at once he stopped his ministrations. A sigh escaped his chest as he pushed himself up, smacking your hand away from your puffy cunt. His cock bobbed between your bodies. You wanted to touch it, but couldn’t.

"Wait," you cried out. His cock twitched as he lowered his hips down, drawing sweet lubricant on his cock, stroking your pussy. He leaned forward, capturing your mouth in a warm kiss. He dipped his hand down, his cockhead prodding and poking, dipping lower with the aid of his hand. 

“MiggyI’mavirgin,” you said all at once, his cockhead nudged against your entrance. Miguel’s head about snapped as he looked up, eyes popped wide open in disbelief. Before he could quite form a coherent thought, your hands shot out to grip his suit vest, stopping him where he was.

“¿Qué dejiste? Say that again?” 

“I haven’t… I haven't had sex,” you murmured. He hadn’t put it together. Your shyness, the awkward way you shuffled around, loosening your bra and hiding your perfect breasts from his eyes. The words were finally out in the open but didn't register.

"A..." Miguel fisted his cock, once, then twice, shifting back to kneel before you. Your eyes fell on his muscular thighs, the way his hand fisted his dick. “You’re a virgin?”

“I’m too old for this,” you mumbled, hiding your eyes with your palms. Miguel shifted to cast aside your hands from your eyes, his muscular body caging you underneath, looking for an explanation. “I just. Between school, work, I never had time.” 

Not that he was complaining.

"No boyfriend?"

You shook your head. He couldn't believe his luck. Not only were you gorgeous, but you were untouched. His, completely and fully. He liked it better that way-- to be the first memory smeared in your head. So that when you looked back on this moment, right now, it would forever be marked by his face.

"It's mine," he blurted out all at once. "I want your first to be mine."

His hand dropped down to your cunt. The pad of his middle finger worked at your entrance as though he were exploring the truth of your statement, stretching you with the aid of his fingers. You were tight, it had to be true.

You nodded, face buried deep in your arm. It didn’t take but moments for him to draw his hand back, suckling the lubricant from his fingertips. You distantly registered his words, “Damn it, you... you don't know what you do to me.” 

Before you could say a word more, Miguel positioned the head of his dick against your slippery virgin hole. You clenched, glancing down between your bodies again, as you had a dozen times, anxiously waiting. Miguel hushed you, the repetitive shushing of his lips soothing you into complacency, forcing your muscles to relax. “It might hurt. But the pain won’t last,” he assured you.

He rolled his hips forward. His sharp exhale shook with every centimeter that gave way. Your walls were forced apart, suffocating you on the shock of adjusting to having someone, no not someone, Miguel-- your Miguel, sinking into your tense body. He throbbed, twitching in your body. His hands fisted in the aged couch, catching the breath in his chest. 

“Ay, Miggy,” your nails dug into his shirt, loose around his firm muscles. “Miggy, no puedo,” 

“You can, you’re so good, eres tan buena,” Miguel swept your lips between his, taking the moment of your surprise to bury himself further, swallowed by your cunt that resisted his intrusion. Your lips fluttered in the kiss, keened out a cry. The pain of his dick, forcing its way through your passage is quelled by the knowledge that he’s here, with you, his girth forcing you apart, stretching you apart, seating himself flush against your womb. His voice was caramelized, sugared over, and so good. “Look at how well you’re taking me already.” 

“Coño, that’s a tight pussy,” He slid his hips back, the warm sensation of his withdrawal pulling free before shoving back in, a cry shoving forth from your lips, filling his office and the connected lab with your cries. He might have heard someone draw the door open, his hips driving back in, centered on the magnificent groans that stuttered free from your chest with Miguel’s careful thrusts. You keened his name, a repetitious Miggy, Miggy, Miggy-- it was Aaron, probably. He recognized the way his feet drug on the floor. 

He hoped he didn’t just hear it. He hoped he saw it too, the way his balls slapped against your ass, the mess of blood soaking the already unhygienic couch, the way his cock pulsed. You were blissed out, so full and well of him like no one else ever had-- because you were his, and his alone. It wasn’t just sex. It was more than that. From Aaron, whose shuffled steps fell out of his office, to any other little bitch in the office who had their own gain. 

“Damn,” Miguel shifted back, hooking his hand around your thigh to drag you back onto his dick. He swirled his thumb against your stiff clit, whirling it around in one circle, then another, and by the third your knees knocked together, bearing down on his cock to hold him still. “I can’t--” you stuttered out, I can’t--” 

“You’re going to,” he hissed. “You’re going to cum right here, right now, split open on my dick.” 

With another circle, you croaked an ugly cry, a terrible, ugly cry that Miguel couldn’t find any more beautiful as your body buzzed around him, tightening and squeezing your already tight cunt around him. Blissful pleasure radiated there, riding his dick for the friction against your virgin walls, your thoughts fading into a realm of insistent pleasure, where thoughts were space mush.

Miguel withstood the pressure on his cock,  clamping his hand down on your hip. His thrusts stuttered, filling your belly with whip after whip with his full hot cum. Your body twitched in the throes of his orgasm. He tracked his eyes down to your body, withdrawing with a bubbly pop of his dick from your abused hole, the intermingling of cum and virginal blood dribbling down your cheeks. 

Your gaze tracked Miguel, pressing his lips toward yours one more time. You shifted on the couch, legs pathetically tremoring. Miguel chuckled and walked toward his electric kettle, papers crunching underneath his feet, “Don’t bother moving. Not that you could, anyway.”

He warmed a warm cloth with hot water, testing its temperature on his palm before sitting beside your crumpled legs, spreading your legs to clean his mess and sooth the abrasive way he took you. He spread your lips, ensuring you were clean before he would flip the cloth, dropping it on top of your vulva. 

“You know you’re mine,” he asked, though it came out as a statement. With another cloth, Miguel cleaned his soft cock of the mess, exhaustion of the sex and what was to come returning to his gentle, deep voice. 

“Sí,” you answered. 

“And you’d do anything for me. Only me.” 

The words were laced with something more than a suggestion, but an affirmation of your loyalty. Your love. You pushed yourself up, hanging off his arm after he tucked himself into his pants. “Para siempre.” 

He leaned down, plucking the bundle with his sequenced DNA information. Your eyes coursed the information on the page, darting up to his tired eyes. You wanted to ask why or what he knew. Miguel knew it didn't matter. You were his now, from the top of your head to the bottom of your gorgeous toes. You trusted him fully. As you should. With the empty vial of Rapture sitting beside him, forgotten, he spared you a mincing smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. 

“Good. Let's fix our project.” 

[mingis-orangejuice]

MC gets Swarmend by a Bunch of Fans

Summary: MC starts to become popular because a video of her fighting wanderers goes viral. How will the boys react to your new-found fame?

a/n: I'm back after not writing for a billion years, I've been busy with life. I'm still not sure if I'm going to be consistent on here yet, but thanks to those who actually stuck around even tho I don't post often. Also this is my first time writing for Caleb. I haven't played many of his cards yet, so I'm not as familiar with him as I am with the other boys, so keep that in mind while you read his part, no hate please

Genres/Warnings: No warnings, just Fluff, established relationship, a bit of jealousy, but nothing toxic, and sassy boys :)

Word count: 1466

You were recently named the number one hunter in all of Linkon City after a video of you went viral. You simultaneously killed 2 large wanderers while also evacuating the local elementary school. All the comments were singing your praises. This has resulted in multiple massive online communities forming around their love for you. You became really popular with male fans too since you’re one of the few female hunters in the industry. They constantly leave comments, asking if you have a boyfriend and if you could crush their heads like you did to the wanderers.

After your overnight success, your man calls you. He wants to take you out to celebrate, hopefully it will just be a nice quiet date with no distractions, right?…

Xavier:

-Takes you to get ice cream in the park, he didn’t really think it through

-he was confused about how all these people showed up to your date in this very public park

-They push past Xavier, trying to get your autograph

-You don’t want to disappoint, so you ask Xavier to sit down for a bit while you sign a few autographs

-You get tons of questions and comments about Xavier that the fans make sure to say loud enough for him to hear, like: “Is that other hunter your boyfriend? He doesn’t look tough, I could take him.” and  “I can treat you better than he would.” “You can do better than that guy.”

-Xavier is seething with jealousy, not just cuz a bunch of guys are interested in you, but because he's a hunter too. Why doesn't he have any fans :( 

-he’d  squeeze past the guys to get to you

-once he finally does, he’d grab you by the waist and hold you close, letting everyone know you were his 

Xavier: Shows over everyone, thanks for your support. But me and MY GIRLFRIEND need to continue OUR DATE,

-he would make sure to glare at the guys he heard earlier as he says the words “Girlfriend” and “date.”

Rafayel:

-Takes you to a nice restaurant far enough out of the city that the swarm of fans wouldn’t be able to get to on foot. And too expensive for them to get into anyway.

-he was used to having to avoid crowds of fans; this is where he would usually go to escape them.

-but he didn’t expect you to have fans outside the city

-All eyes were on you. He hoped that since this place was so sophisticated, the fans would just stare and nothing more.

-he was wrong. 

-All night, men were sending you drinks from the bar, and they even offered to pay for the most expensive meals on the menu. Some even asked you to ditch Rafayel and sit with them instead.

-Each time a guy sent something to your table, he would get more and more sulky

-he moves in closer and wraps his arm around you to make sure they know you’re taken

-He can’t take it anymore, he looks towards the main group of guys that had been doing most of the drink-sending. 

Rafayel: She’s with me, ok, don't get any ideas. And stop sending her stuff, I’m more than capable of buying her every item off the menu without even making a dent in my wallet. And what's with sending her all these drinks? I bet you poisoned them. She would never accept drinks from just anyone, especially creeps like you ! Come on, let's get out of here. I guess this place isn’t as sophisticated as I thought.

-Rafayel takes your hand and leads you out of the restaurant

-You guys drive to his place. 

-The moment you guys get in and close the door, he gets all pouty again.

- Please cuddle him till he feels better.

Rafayel: I thought I'd lose you today. To make sure you’re safe, I guess you’ll just have to stay here for a while, maybe even forever.

MC: *eye roll* Raf, I’m going to have to go back to work eventually

Rafayel: No, you don’t, you can just retire now that you’re at the top of your game!

- he’ll get all pouty once you try to leave, he’ll insist on driving you home and everywhere from now on, you know, just to make sure you’re safe, definitely not cuz he’s scared you’ll leave him.

-Long story short, he doesn't want to share you 

Zayne:

-Zayne would be very proud of you. He would make sure to refer to you as “his number one hunter” as much as possible just to tease you.

- but would also watch these guys like a hawk, 

-If any of them touches you or makes you uncomfortable, he'll step in

-Zayne will take you to your favourite cafe, it's small and quiet and serves your favourite drinks.

-Once you two finish up and walk out, there's a line of fans waiting for your autograph.

-Zayne intertwines your fingers with his so he doesn’t lose you in the crowd 

Zayne: If you’re here for an autograph from MC, please form a straight line, and she will get to as many people as she can.

-The fans somehow listen to Zayne and form an organized line.

-Zayne will be like your talent manager; if a fan is taking too long, he’ll move them along. If any of them say or do anything inappropriate, he’ll make sure to glare at them while politely asking them to leave

-The whole time while you’re signing stuff and talking with fans, Zayne will be standing closely behind, making sure everything goes smoothly.

- as much as he doesn’t like the crowd, he knows you’re having fun being in the spotlight

-but he can tell when you’re tired and will shoo everyone away so that you can rest.

-He’s proud of you for your achievemen,t but would rather not have to deal with a large crowd of people trying to hit on his girlfriend.

Sylus:

-will most likely try and hide cuz if they're Hunter fans, they probably know who he is and would be wondering why the top Hunter is on a date with the leader of Onychinus. 

-He'd probably try to keep a low profile, or use Luke and Kieran as a distraction so you two can get away quickly.

-but if you really wanted to go out he’d make sure to wear a disguise, and do his best impression of Skye the fruit vendor.

-the tabloids would be all over this story “Local big-shot hunter in a relationship with small-town fruit vendor?”

-He wouldn’t really mind the guys hitting on you, cuz at the end of the day, he knows you’re going home with him

-he actually feels proud knowing that his girlfriend is so desired, it makes him want you more.

-He would take you somewhere out of the country once the news stories start to circulate, he can fool a few local fans but once his face gets photographed in the news, it could be over for him.

-you two would go to a tropical island where he of course has a private beach house. 

-He would pamper you as much as possible, and buy you as many gifts as possible, food clothes, accessories etc…

MC: Sylus, this is too much. How am I gonna bring this all back to Linkon?

Sylus: What? Can’t I be proud of my brave hunter girlfriend? After all, you’re going to need new outfits and accessories when you get back, I can’t have you in the tabloids wearing the same old hunter’s outfit from befor.e”

Caleb:

-He would brag to EVERYONE and I mean everyone.

-people he know’s people he doesn’t know, the mailman, the grocery store clerk, he would take every opportunity to let them know that he is dating the numer one hunter in Linkon.

-he wants everyone to know, especially if it embarrases you 

Caleb: *loudly in the middle of the restaurant* who would have guessed this little Pipsqueak who used to follow me around as kids, would become the number one hunter in all of Linkon?

MC: *slaps his arm* Caleb shush, you’re being annoying

-even though he wants to put the attention on you, the second any boy even thinks about hitting on you he’ll step in and let them know you’re taken.

-he’ll fly you to skyhaven and keep you in his apartment all weekend and have a movie marathon of all your favourite movies to celebrate.

-he says its because he just wants to have a chill relaxed weekend but really he just doesnt want to share you.

-after the weekend together is over, he’ll personally fly you back to Linkon and escort you to your aprtment.

-he trusts you, he just doesn't trust the men in Linkon

[hzllhoundz]

the outsiders x male reader hc !!

Sfw— headcannons don’t except it to be good I’m kinda stupid— feel free to request—also amab / gn pronounsish (no fem terms basically)

DALLY WINSTON - sfw

★ he deff has internalized homophobia (it’s the 60s) he still thinks it’s kinda gross but he loves you and to him that’s surprising he’s Dallas Winston and he doesn’t love anything he got close to you and feels safe

★If Johnny doesn’t like you or somthing he either has to come around to you or your out so be nice to Johnny help protect him and make sure he doesn’t die or anything like that (haha…*sobs*)

★he would probably be toxic ngl very possessive and he likes getting you angry and frustrated would love to fight with you and he doesn’t see anything wrong with you he is also protective and he won’t let you leave him so your stuck

★ super good hugger like bear hugs and he’s good at cooking if he wasn’t all hardened up hed be the best house husband but he stopped cooking and stuff and never cares to clean up (he refuses to do any of this anymore)

★he had a cat once, named her missy when he was younger his folks killed her and he held her a funeral and kissed her forehead before filling the hole with dirt if you have a cat of any kind he’s gonna love it to death, or let him keep one at your place

★he loves how male reader can stick up for himself, he loves it when your angry at him.. it gets him a little excited (wait tell later) even if it’s at him, he doesn’t let up flirting with girls but he won’t cheat on you.. he decided he wanted to stick with y’a the gang thinks your just really close friends you don’t dare tell no body not in talsa Oklahoma in the 60s

————————————————————-

SODAPOP CURTIS - sfw (sorry it’s short I ran out of ideas)

❤︎︎his hands are so soft like so soft despite being a greaser he has like soc skin Darry buys him moisturizer as a gift once and ever sense he’d have like two-bit get (steal) some more him

❤︎︎definition of a golden retriever boyfriend even tho your another boy he doesn’t see a problem (he never thought about homophobia or why it’s be wrong and didn’t pay attention in church like pony said) so when someone judges or a soc calls you guys ‘𝒻𝒶𝑔𝑔ℴ𝓉𝓈’ he gets very confused and Darry or pony have to explain it cus you feel to bad

❤︎︎he thinks your like a woman (not biologically) but like treats you like he would a girlfriend and almost called you a princess once but quickly apologized he baby’s you try’s to open jars for you your like a girlfriend but not a girl if you get what I mean

❤︎︎he dyed his hair once blonde and now he’s a few blonde strands every time he has a little bit of hair dye (like every few months he’s suddenly a little blonder)

————————————————————-

DARRY CUTRIS - sfw

➜ he’s a tough partner he acts like your a nuisance and he’s quite homophobic even to himself he doesn’t mean to be and he loves you but it’s hard for him he’s a cutie truly and his brothers love you which helps him

➜he’s busy working so any time you can help him out with money do so secretly of course he’d hate to be given money by you he’s an independent guy

➜you probably met by working or when he’s running around getting groceries or something help him carry stuff you a strong person 💪 he cooks in the mornings so maybe one day cook for him?

➜hold him when he goes to sleep he’s always so pent up and tired maybe he will finally relax massage him let the tension out (maybe save up for a boxing dummy for him) overall I think he’d cry if you held him tight told him you loved him conformation etc he’d love that

➜ he’s a simple vanilla guy he likes romantic stuff even if he’s always busy let him lay in your lap and play with his hair as you read or something the only ones who know about you two are probably soda, pony, and Johnny who’s around a lot and pony probably told him

➜it’s probably gonna be a forever relationship if not he won’t ever date again he’s the type to say ‘there’s only one person for me’ or when he’s older one of his brothers will have a picture of you two and post it on tt w ‘This was our brother and his bf (your name /last name) find him for us !! And reunite you guys of something 😭

THE END

———————————————

NSFW will be next ✨

[saltylandland]

I want to draw this but idk how to draw nsfw plus, busy, so here is a list of ideas, also I’ve been following @weebsinstash for awhile and I just think you’d be into this :)

Your dearest friend (and co worker) confesses that she’s the main heroine of this world, she got randomly sent here from her world, in her world this place is a romance game. She says regardless of if you believed her she was telling you the truth and-

You nodded yes, and not because you were a loyal side character, but bc you knew. After her confession you get a flood of memories of a different world, and a detailed retailing of the world you’re in.

Your friend, though she is bland by design, she is radiant and an unforgettable presence, despite not being able to remember her face even after just facing her.

The story, about an emperor with a curse. The entire castle keeps the secret, all families have been working there since the empire was first founded. Cult like loyal to their (admittedly really competent) emperor

Your friend, what was her name again? No- that’s not the point. Her goal, the goal of the game, was to tame the emperor's curse by existing, something no one had ever been able to do.

Face multiple challenges like the jealous empress, make your way through the fanatical loyalists and get closer to the emperor. Rise from empress’s handmaiden, to imperial consort, to empress herself!

Your friend whispers to you that she can tame the beast that prowls though the castle at night, and that she’s going to soon.

(The emperor becomes extremely aggressive with sharp claws yada yada, unfortunately no monster fucking this time tho)

But when that night arrives, she fails. You find her corpse before anyone else does. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen, she was supposed too- her body was collected and buried and it was almost like she never existed. Not that she didn’t have family, but like a spell the mysterium of the heroine fades away seemingly with no impact, she was just another victim of the beast.

With a new sense of fear, and with new memories, no loyalty to this empire, you were hatching a plan to leave. The night you were scouting out a path, with the excuse of chores on the night shift, you run into the beast. He was supposed to be chained up?!?

you are tackled to the ground, the emperor is on top of you. Opening your eyes you see him nuzzling your neck, shallow breaths fanning across you. You panic, this was supposed to happen to your friend not you. You can predict it now, he’ll turn into like a lap dog how embarrassing-

RIIIIIIIIIIIP- suddenly he rips your bodice down the middle, exposing your breasts to the cold air.

————

You try to avoid it but he keeps hunting you down and mounting you.

One night you hide away in the deepest parts of the castle, since you had been searching for a place to hide all day (and the beast fucked you all night) you fall asleep

Waking up to a gentle rocking it takes you a minute to process that you were now under him taking his cock

—

Then on one of the nights he does it in front of servants and they tell the empress who then calls you into her office, reader who is already planning to leave is scared you’re gonna get executed

The empress tells you that this is your job now, using your body to ‘tame’ the emperor bc there has been no incidents otherwise

This is a complete 180 to the empress from the game. She also insists that the emperor cannot know that he’s fucking you every night, as he is a decent man and he’d feel guilty, and to prevent you from getting pregnant she will supply you with potions to prevent that. And there is no other choice (not said but heavily implied) Now you are being treated as the unofficial concubine which the empress seems to dote on, your official title is the empress’s handmaiden/confidant

It is later revealed to you as you unwillingly get closer to the empress that though she loves the emperor (they grew up together) she doesn’t really care for sex (either cuz she’s lesbian or just ace) and once she got pregnant with their heir, their sex life basically stopped, tho they didn’t have an actual conversation, the emperor could tell she wasn’t into it and didn’t push her

Bonus points if she’s telling you about what a good man/husband he is for not pushing her/making her take care of his needs like that while he rearranges your guts.

Later later you find out that the emperor realized what was going on, but since it prevented him from hurting anyone he went along with it. And now since you’re so close to the empress, both of them start to fall and become yandere and now you have the most powerful couple who want you for themselves ❤️

Also, quick idea for an ending, he starts regaining control of himself as basically his and the beast’s goals become the same, and he starts loving on the reader even before nightfall and so the two personalities begin to blend and he’s cured! How wonderful! But now you’re the official concubine congrats! What? You don’t want it? Too bad! They want you! Also good luck making it out of the castle as everyone their views you as the emperor’s saviour.