#someone please tell me what i did right so i can feel better. or tell me what i did wrong i need to make sense of today
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heyimkana · 7 hours ago
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Come Home to Me (2/2)
Read Part 1 here.
Pairing: Sung Jinwoo X Female Reader
Genre: Marriage AU, fluff, smut, hurt/comfort
Summary: Your husband notices how worried you are about him going on another raid, so he stays for a bit longer to convince you that no matter what happens in the future, he will come home to you.
Word Count: 8K (I wrote too many banters I'm so sorry)
Content Warnings: Semi-public sex, swearing
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“Beru, take my daughter inside. I need to be with my wife. Alone.” 
The sudden solemnity that befell your husband’s face and the way his voice, low and heavy, resonated in the air around you smeared goosebumps upon your skin. His tone carried a breath of possessiveness, imbuing life to the slumbering butterflies within your stomach.
“Certainly, My Liege,” came the shadow soldier’s immediate response. Shortly after he performed a deep bow, Beru walked into the house with your daughter held tight in his arms, closing the front door behind him to offer you the freedom to speak what your heart truly felt—except you couldn’t. You were scared for a thousand different reasons.
The sun had sunk low enough below the horizon for the darkness to gather, a stroke of purple hue tinging the vast orange sky, ready to wrap the stars with its velvety quilt. Jinwoo might appear nearly transcendent under the evening sun, but nothing embraced him better than the night’s cloak, a fitting companion to a man who carried the undead within his steps. Standing before him in this quietude, you felt like you slowly returned to your old self. Abashed, nervous, losing your tongue in front of a man so handsome, he made your heart ache.
Jinwoo turned to you, his face unreadable, guarded, but there was undoubtedly a gleam of concern residing in his deep blue eyes. He took a stride toward you, his movement soundless against the marbled floor of your porch, the same way death approached those who wished to harm the only person he could call home. “What is it?” he began in a voice so soft, it was almost zephyr-like. His lean fingers circled your wrist like a bracelet, cool to the touch. “You’ve never looked this perturbed before. Did something happen?”
“No,” your answer—your lie—came almost instantly, flawless to anyone’s ears. “Nothing happened.” Behind your clamped teeth, your mind endlessly screamed the words your tongue was itching to say, a desperate plea you tried to veil with everything you had.
Don’t go, Jinwoo, please, just this one time. I have a terrible feeling about this, and I know I can’t prove to you why, but it’s eating me alive. I feel it stronger today, this fear of losing you, of losing the other half of me. I know you want me to bid my farewell with a smile the way I always do, and I’m trying my best to do it even now, but there’s only so much I can keep to myself. I don’t want to say goodbye to my husband, not knowing if it will be the last time I can see his face. So, please… Please stay… Don’t leave me. Don’t go. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
Although these thoughts remained unspoken, in Jinwoo’s eyes, they manifested vividly on your face. But he wished to hear them directly, to see them flow past your lips, so he could capture each sentence and turn them into words of comfort. 
“Sweetheart,” he repeated, his voice tender yet authoritative at the same time. “Don’t make me leave you like this. Don’t make me worry about you more than I already do. Tell me. Tell me so I can help.”
He’s right, you thought. Keeping this from him will only make him worry. He can’t afford to get distracted, not now. But when you still kept your lips pressed tight, trying to collect the words, his two fingers framed your chin, leaving you with no choice but to meet his scrutinizing stare. 
He seemed upset. No, more than that, he looked… angry.
The air seemed to shimmer around him as his emotions slowly climbed to the surface, his gaze darkening as his desire to protect you gripped him like a vice. “Did someone hurt you?” Jinwoo questioned you, his voice a deep rumble, crossing through the nearly infinitesimal space between your lips and his like an impending storm. 
You fidgeted. “N-no—”
He tilted your face higher, not letting you break free from his gaze. “I would be able to tell in a heartbeat if someone laid a hand on you, but if there was something that I didn’t know, some clues that I missed, someone who made you feel even slightly unsafe.” His eyes began to gleam; the shadows beneath his feet trembled in fear in the presence of his restrained rage. “I want their names. Now.”
You gulped. This side of him never failed to make shivers crawl down your spine. Jinwoo had always been so gentle and loving with you that it was easy to forget just how vicious and merciless he could be when his protectiveness over you took form. Your husband had killed for your sake before, more than you could possibly count, and he’d take another hundred lives within a blink of your eyes should you ask him to. 
As you released your shuddering breath, you twined your fingers around his wrist. “No.” You tilted your head to the side just enough for your lips to press a soothing kiss against the blue and red rivers of veins under his pasty skin. “It’s not like that. No threats, nothing. I’m safe.”
Relief washed over him, albeit only faintly. “What is it, then?”
You tarried, trying to mince your phrases as best as you could. “I know you can handle anything,” you only began, yet your voice was already cracking with emotions. “I know that, and I believe in your strength. But I saw you, Jinwoo, just like everybody else. I saw the way your enemy stabbed your heart and tore open your chest. You survived. By some miracle, you did. But the sight of it… It haunts me."
You took a breath before you continued. "I find it impossible to sleep at night when you’re not next to me. My mind keeps drifting back to you no matter what I do, wondering if you were fighting for your life again, trapped in a battle you couldn’t win. Sometimes I look at you and…” You laid your hand above his beating heart, your fingers tracing over it as your eyes grew vacant. “I remember the way the beast’s claws pierced through your chest, right here, all five of them. Your body may have healed, and there are no traces of those wounds left on your skin, not even a scar, but… I can still see them. I’m still scared of them. And I can’t help but think… What if it happens again? What if your luck runs out this time?”
Jinwoo continued to stay mute, listening to you intently as if you were the only voice in the universe. He only reacted once quivers ran through your fingertips, seizing your hand and pressing it harder against his chest, as if to remind you that beneath those translucent scars, his heart still remained the same—still alive, beating, racing, because of you, only for you.
You curled your fingers, still couldn’t wash away the dread. “I know you can’t change who you are,” you continued, your voice laced with tears. “And I know you have no other options but to do your duty, which is why I always try my best not to stop you from leaving. But today, for some reason, I feel anxious. It almost feels the same as how I felt on the day I almost lost you. It’s probably nothing, but… Right now, it’s suffocating me.”
The tension was palpable between you, leaving you to ponder whether you had spoken too much. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser for you not to speak at all. You blinked back your tears, wiping the ones that already crossed the edges with the heel of your palm. You felt mortified for baring your feelings out in the open, for being so theatrical about it. 
“I’m sorry. I’m being so dramatic, aren’t I?” You forced out a laugh; the desire to flee the scene was almost too tempting to refuse. It didn’t help that he hadn’t spoken a word, leaving you shrouded by your own perception of his feelings. Have you upset him? Troubled him? Or maybe even hurt him in some way? Just the thought of it brought more fresh tears to emerge in your eyes. 
“I—” You cast your face to the side. “I should go check on our baby—”
Your husband caught you by your wrist, stopping you before you could escape, his touch firm but far from painful. His eyes were hidden underneath the curtain of his raven strands, but the way he pressed his lips so tautly together, enough for them to grow white, clearly indicated how much he took your words seriously.
“I’m scared, too.” 
His confession, spoken barely above a whisper, left you stunned. Out of all the things you thought he’d say at this moment, that was never one of them.
You pivoted around to face him. “Jin… woo..?”
It took him a moment to compose his words as if he lacked the bravery to come clean, to showcase his vulnerability. It was as if he had spent an eternity trying to keep these words all to himself, fighting back all the intentions to reveal this frail side of him to you, afraid of how you’d react, if he’d sadden you with it.
“I’m terrified, Sweetheart,” he repeated, quiet, almost breathlessly. “Not of death, but leaving you.” The lines of his face were strained, filled with consternation. “I know how it feels to lose those important to me. No matter how strong I get, no matter how hard I try, I still can’t protect everyone. I’ve lost my friends in battles. I’ve lost my father. And I nearly lost my mother and my sister, too. I know exactly how it feels, and it haunts me every day more than you could imagine.” 
His face twisted in sadness, almost in agony at the recollection of the precious lives that slipped through his hands, but that amount of pain felt small in comparison to how he felt when he added, “But you…” His fingertips trailed an invisible path down your cheek. “You and our daughter… You’re beyond that. You’re not just my family; you’re fragments of me. The hardest part of my mission is never about dealing with my enemies. It’s this moment right here, right now, bidding you goodbye and watching you smile back at me with your heart breaking in your eyes, thinking that you’d never get to see me again. You’re constantly on my mind, Sweetheart, every second of every day. And I always worry that something will happen to you while I’m gone. That you won’t be here to meet me at the door when I come home. That I’d be too late, and I wouldn’t be able to find you, to save you, even if I searched the whole world for you.” 
His throat felt parched, his voice so close to shattering. “With my power, no matter where you are, no matter how far you are from me, I can run back to you the moment I sense danger around you, but it will take me a second, and a second could change everything. You saw what happened with Jinah, didn’t you? I managed to save her right on time, but if I had arrived only a second later, I would’ve lost her. And if I… If you were in the same position… And I was a second too late on my way back to you… If I lost you forever…” He took one last step toward you, and he crumbled, his body sinking forward, his head falling to your shoulder. “I wouldn’t know how to live my life anymore…” A shaky breath escaped him. “Not without you…”
The amount of fear that radiated through his body was almost appalling. It was hard to believe someone so strong could tremble like this at the thought of losing you.
Jinwoo lifted his head, gathering your face in his hands, his eyes carrying the weight of a broken man. “I know it’s hard for you to watch me leave…” He pressed your foreheads together, his eyes closed in the sliver of bliss from being so close to you, but his eyebrows remained furrowed, tense from the pain and the horror of being separated from the other half of his soul. “And I will never make light of your feelings, but you also need to know just how unbearable it is for me to walk away from you…” 
You squeezed your teeth together behind your lips, your vision blurred by your tears. You could only offer a shaky nod in response, afraid you’d be sobbing if you let a word slip out of you.
“It tears me apart just to kiss you goodbye, Sweetheart.” He returned the small distance between you, gently brushing your tears away with his thumb. “Every single time I leave, it’s like cutting off a piece of me, and you don’t know how much, just how much I want to stay and be with you right now—to spend every second of my life with you, so I can stop you from looking at me with those eyes. So I can put your heart at ease.” He lifted your face just enough to meet your crystalline eyes. “Don’t ever think I want to choose my duty over you. You are always, always, the most important thing in my life.”
It was the first time you saw him so fragile, so exposed, and you could feel just how much your presence in his life affected him. You were his weakness, his only weakness. 
You quickly collected yourself, desperate to assure him. “I know…” Speaking in your softest voice, you reached out to touch him, to cup his cheek, to do anything you could to soothe him even when you, yourself, were so close to breaking. “I know how much you care about me—about us—and I’m happy, Jinwoo. You don’t know how glad I am to have a husband like you. So strong” —you brushed a featherlight kiss on his cheek—“yet, so kind”—on his jawline—“and so, so gentle.” You planted the last one on his lips, as soft and tender as how you whispered his name. “And yes, of course, I understand how hard it is for you. This is why I didn’t want to say anything at first. I didn’t want to make you feel this way. I didn’t want to make you worry more than you already did. And I’m…” You caressed his cheekbone with your thumb. “I’m sorry for speaking my thoughts out loud just now. I shouldn’t have said anything, at least not now when you’re about to leave.”
He let out a sigh under your comforting touch, almost yearning. Covering your hand with his own, he sank his face further into your palm like a child leaning to his mother’s touch. “No, don’t be sorry,” he shook his head, his lids shutting at the feeling of your warmth seeping into his pores. “I’m glad you could be honest with me. Thank you. I can breathe easy now, knowing that you’re safe.”
When he stared down at you, your smile for him was the softest, the sweetest it had ever been. It reminded him almost of his mother’s, the way it carried so much love, affection, adoration, and, most importantly, appreciation. As someone who held nearly limitless power, the constant efforts he made to save the world were never overlooked. Still, more often than not, people chose not to express their gratitude, saying he was merely doing his job as an S-Rank Hunter, taking everything he did for granted. You had seen just how cruel the public voice could be when they spoke ill of him, not long after the Jeju Raid ended.
Hunter Min Byung-Gu’s life could’ve been saved if Sung Jinwoo had appeared sooner! Yeah, where the hell was he anyway? Why didn’t he join the raid from the start? Was he scared? Hey, hey, I heard he refused to join the raid at first. Does he not realize his responsibility as an S-Rank Hunter? Embarrassing, right? S-Rank Hunters are supposed to be selfless heroes! Sung Jinwoo is not one of them!
Your husband never let these derisions get to him, but they got to you. It pained you, angered you to see these words spreading online like wildfire, but you couldn’t do much to change their opinions, and even if you could, it wouldn’t have mattered. Jinwoo never cared about them. He cared about you, about what you think of him, and fortunately for him, you were always there to appreciate every little thing he did. He didn’t have to save the world to impress you. You were already grateful for his presence, even just by seeing him plant a little kiss on your daughter’s head. 
“Thank you, Jinwoo,” you softly said, “for making the world a better place for me and our daughter to live in. But more than that, thank you for all the efforts you made as my husband and as the father of our child. For making time for us even when you were losing sleep, drained after all the raids. I’m sure your baby is grateful, too, for all the tea parties you had with her.”
He laughed a little, still carrying a hint of melancholy. “She can be quite demanding sometimes.”
“Yes, she can, but you’re always patient with her, and I adore you for that.” You stroked his cheek. “You’re a hero to us in more ways than one. You’re everything we want you—need you to be, and for that, I’ll always be grateful to you.”
His jaws clasped together like a floodgate, preventing his emotions from bursting beyond control. He nodded once, a bit bashful but visibly delighted by your lines. With a quiet giggle, you kissed the tip of his nose. “What, getting shy now?”
He responded with a chuckle, pretty roses blooming in his cheeks. “No, I’m just happy. You always know what to say to lift the weight off my shoulders. And I wish I could say something to ease your mind, too, but…” He broke away from your touch, returning your gaze. “I don’t know what the future holds for me. I can lie to you and tell you that nothing could harm me, but I know you wouldn’t want that. So, all I can offer you right now is my promise.” He brought your hand closer to his face, his lips engraving the words directly to the bumps of your knuckles. “I promise that I will do anything, everything within my power, to come home to you.”
Your heart still splintered, but it wasn’t nearly as agonizing anymore. Perhaps it was all due to his vow. Or maybe you’ve learned how to withstand the pain, to welcome it as a part of you, knowing it was something you couldn’t chase away, something that would only be repeated in the future. “Jinwoo—”
A pair of soft lips captured your own, your face held, your words stolen. The sudden kiss was chaste, almost innocent, just pure romance beneath the bitterness of a farewell. Jinwoo pulled away but only barely, the tip of his nose still grazing your cheek. 
“I love you,” he whispered, his warm breath, sweet and intoxicating, fanning your lips. “I love you so much, Sweetheart, more than I could bear.”
You looked up at him, your heartbeat roaring in your ears. “I love you, too.” 
Another kiss, another soft touch from a man you’d sworn to love unconditionally. But the gentleness of your colliding lips, the innocence of it, could never last long, always replaced by something more arduous. A hint of his longing for you, his craving, showed in the way he molded your lips beneath his, and within seconds, his kiss turned deep, controlling, consuming. His arm slithered around your waist, pressing your body close against him, tight enough for you to wonder if you could just melt into him, be a part of him. Perhaps then, you could be wherever he was. A world where you don’t have to bid him goodbye… Wouldn’t that be wonderful?
His breathing turned uneven by the time he ended the kiss, enthralled and far from satisfied. And just like him, you couldn’t do much but stare at the shape of his pretty mouth in your haze.
“You asked me if I’d let the world burn for you.” His voice turned raspy, hoarse with need, his eyes watching the way his thumb glided over your slicked lips. He pressed down on your bottom one, and you parted your mouth in response, an act so natural, it made his gaze heavy with lust. “I’d do it,” he said, stealing your breath with it. “I’d watch the world burn to the ground just to be with you for a second longer. All you need to do is say the words.”
Your eyes turned round, your heart thrashing inside your ribcages. You could see the conviction in his eyes, giving you as much joy as the fear that dawned upon you. 
The safety of the world did not lie in Sung Jinwoo’s hands. It was in yours. 
Your ardent love, intense and overflowing, rushed to your hands, crumpling the front of his coat as you brought him back to you for another taste of his lips. You pulled your husband down to you, to where he belonged, to where he should stay, your mouth meeting his in a searing kiss. You were the gravity that pulled him in, the spark of fire to reignite the flames within him. And you wanted to kiss him forever, to have his hands on your body, to be close enough for you to—
Jinwoo suddenly stiffened in your arms, breaking off the kiss so abruptly that it left your mind reeling for a second. A frown sketched over the lines in his forehead, irritation glinting in his eyes. 
Your heart plummeted, unsure of what you did wrong. “W-what is it?”
“Nothing,” he sighed exasperatedly, massaging the bridge of his nose. “I just heard Igris talking in my ear, reminding me of my schedule. What time is it now?” He lifted his wrist, glancing at the silver watch. “Damn it.” He clicked his tongue; his vexation doubled. “I guess I really have to go.” But his eyes, like always, found their way home to you, and he took you in once more, this breathtaking view of you with your face flushed, your lips all red and bruised and glistening with his spit. “And it’s probably better if I leave now before I get, umm…” He noticeably swallowed, trying to rein in the desire to take you here against the wall. “Carried away.”
With flames kissing your cheeks, you tossed your stare to the floor. “Y-You’re right. Sorry.”
“‘Sorry?’” Jinwoo tittered, the sound soft and wonderful in your ears. Lifting your face by the chin, he tilted his head slightly to the side, adoring you. “It was my pleasure, Sweetheart.”
His smirk, his voice… He seemed so effortlessly sexy when he said it that it turned you sheepish. You removed yourself from him. “S-so, umm… When will you be back again exactly?”
“Six days from now. A week, maybe.”
Your shoulders sagged. He could’ve said six years, and it would probably sound just as torturous. “Okay…”
“Come on, baby,” he smiled softly despite his heart breaking just the same. “Don’t be like this.” He rubbed his knuckles against your cheek before he poked you lightly with his finger, making you giggle from it. “I’ll make it up to you once I get home, okay? Anything you want me to do—anything at all—I’ll do it.”
“Anything?”
His previously impish smile fully morphed into a devilish grin. “Anything.”
“Hopefully, it’s not something sexual,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at him.
“Hopefully, it is.” His chuckles didn't last long, followed shortly by a heavy sigh. “Can I hug my wife one last time?”
You stilled, your breath caught in your throat. “It’s not the last time.” 
He blinked before he understood his mistake, sadness coating the soft bow of his lips once he did. “Sorry. Poor choice of words.” He spread his arms wide, waiting for you to return to his warmth with the softest smile on his face. “I mean, can I hug you one more time before I go? And touch you endlessly once I get home?”
Contentment suffused you at once, and you answered him by carving the shape of your smile against his lips, your fingers coiled against the front of his coat. You made sure to keep your kiss light, not wanting to repeat the same mistake of drowning in desire. You weren’t sure you could escape it should it happen again. But even so, when you parted from him, you couldn’t deny the tension between you. Like magnets, you were drawn together. Just the slightest brush of your skin meeting his could turn it into a force beyond your control.
You tried to distract him—or rather, yourself. “H-hey, you said Igris talked to you before. Does that mean he… saw what we were doing?” This was the first time it happened, as Jinwoo had always been careful in the past not to let his shadow soldiers witness your intimate acts. Whenever you two were together, your husband would always command his army to shut down all their senses for a moment, to give you the privacy you needed. You weren’t sure why Igris could see you now, but the thought horrified you. “I’ve always been awkward with him because he doesn’t talk much and seems so… noble. If he saw us kissing like that, I… I don’t think I could face him again. Especially after…” You kept on rambling, driven out of shame, submerged at the thought of seeing the dark knight again after he witnessed everything that happened between you and his master.
Unbeknownst to you, Jinwoo’s eyes darkened, completely lost in the view. Seeing you like this, standing so small and fidgety before him, looking so flustered that you couldn’t handle meeting his eyes when you spoke—
God, I want to ruin her. 
I want to make her all mine again. 
His nails scraped against his palm as he tried to find restraint, his throat burning with the desire to claim you, to taste you, to drink everything you give him. You were asking him a question, weren’t you? Something about Igris. Fuck, he couldn’t remember it. He couldn’t pay attention to any of the lines you said, watching how your mouth shaped the words but not registering them. Your voice was a whisper in his ear, easily drowned by the filthy thoughts that grew even more vehemently with each second passing by.
“Honey?”
At your call, he averted his gaze. One more second looking at you, and he would’ve succumbed to his needs. “Hmm?”
“I asked you if Igris saw us.”
“Huh? Oh, right. Yes, they saw it.”
“Wait—They?”
“Yeah, the entire army, basically.” Though he wanted to seem apologetic, his grin betrayed him. “I was too absorbed with you that I forgot to tell them to close their eyes.”
You gaped, colors draining fast from your face. “Jinwoo! ”
He laughed quietly at your reaction, catching the little punches you threw to his chest.  “Baby, relax. So what if they saw us kissing? You’re my love.”
Your stomach somersaulted at the word he chose. He could’ve just said my wife instead of my love. It would've been easier for your heart. “Well, I don’t want them to see that…” Another pout, another wild urge he had to chase away before he bruised your lips with his own. You exhaled. For some reason, you felt exhausted. “Though it’s… sweet how Igris tried to keep you from running late. That should’ve been my job. Did he just pop up, tell you to go, and then disappear again?” The vision of it looked funny in your head because surely, he must’ve been embarrassed seeing us like that, right?
“Actually, he told me to stay.” Your husband wound his arms around your waist, drawing you closer before he rested them on your curves. “He said that I should just send him there and let him take care of the gate for me. So I can be here with my queen.”
“‘Your queen?”’ You repeated, couldn’t help but feel amused even though you were touched by how caring the dark knight was to your family.
Scarlet tinged his cheek. “His words, not mine.”
“I see. So, I’m not your queen, then?”
The shade deepened as he tossed his face to the side. “Of”—he cleared his throat, his voice reducing to a mumble—“Of course, you are.”
You giggled, and your husband softened into another smile, staring at you affectionately. He seemed glad that you’d rediscovered the strength to throw a jest or two. 
“Well, as much as I don’t wish for my king to go,” you dawdled with your words, building expectations as you glided one hand up his chest. You could feel the ridges of his lean, taut muscles underneath his shirt. A wave of desire pooled inside your stomach, threatening to resurface if you weren’t being careful. “The world needs him. Even if I keep you to myself now, you’re bound to leave for another mission sooner or later. I’ve come to realize that…” You paused to gain control of your emotions, your hands fixing his collar in your attempt to seek distraction. “The best way to deal with this is by getting myself used to it. Get used to this feeling that you leave me when you kiss me goodbye. I have to teach myself to be patient, as it will only be a matter of time before my husband returns. I think that’s what I have to do,” you smiled at him, shy amidst the mischievousness that you previously displayed. “As your queen.”
His heart thawed at your lines, cradling you close enough by the shoulders to bury his face in your hair, breathing in your scent, memorizing it so he could recall this sense of peace you gave him when he was miles away from you. Even without words, you could tell just how proud he was of you. “Thank you,” he murmured against your temple. He kept you this way for a moment, his nose nuzzling against your strands until he remembered how time would never be merciful to him. “I really have to go, baby…”
“I know…”
But when he pulled away, he couldn’t find the strength to detach his gaze from you, caught in a conflict between his feelings and his responsibility. “I’ll be…”—he traced your cheek, his gaze falling to your lips—“back soon, okay…?”
You nibbled at the corner of your lip, causing him to nearly groan at the sight. You didn’t mean to entice him; you were just nervous under his hooded gaze, your body brimming with anticipation. You knew he wanted another kiss, another touch, and you wanted thousands of them, but— “Okay…”
Jinwoo moved closer, as close as he could be, his face hovering merely a few inches from yours. Nothing but desire resided in his eyes, his voice low and husky when he spoke, “Don’t miss me too much…”
It was like the air crackled between you, invisible hands drawing you together. Your fingers twined a little tighter around the front of his coat, itching to tug him down and erase the millimeters of space separating your lips. “I’ll try…” You replied with shivers in your breath, and in a moment of weakness, your gaze cascaded to his lips.
And seeing that, he snapped.
All shadows. Leave us. Now.
“Jin—mmph!” You were pushed back against the wall, your body lifted to your toes, and your lips devoured. He couldn’t do it. Whatever battle he was fighting inside, he lost it the moment he realized you wanted him just the same, and he didn’t care. You were still his prize to claim, your taste was his to consume, your warmth was his to take, and he drowned in you almost instantly, his fingers possessively grabbing your face, leaving you with no choice but to accept his kiss, to accept whatever it was he planned to give you. 
Without wasting a second, he wedged his knee between your legs, parting them open and having his thigh pressed firmly against your core. You gasped against his mouth, your body clinging onto him, shuddering at the thrilling sensation. “J-Jinwoo—”
“I know,” he replied shortly, almost in a growl, breathless against your mouth. “I need you, too, so just—” He pressed your body tight against him, his lips placed upon yours again with such urgency as if being separated from you for merely a second deprived him of all the oxygen he needed.
The last thread of restraint in your head forced you to place your hands on his chest. Despite your aching need to rub yourself against his thigh, you voiced your thoughts aloud between lustful kisses. “Wait—we shouldn’t—mmph—”
With a grunt, he removed your hands from him, pinning them against the wall as he ceaselessly devoured your mouth. He kept you that way, trapped and caged within his hold. “Y-you have to go,” you managed to whimper out, your body tensing as he trailed open-mouthed kisses down your throat.
Jinwoo finally broke away, his face flushed, painted over with nothing but ardor. “Want me to stop?”
Your heart thrashed wildly inside your chest. The huskiness in his voice, the way his breathing turned heavy at the sight of you—what women would say no?
“Come here.” You pulled him back to you, begged him for another kiss, a wish that he was so eager to comply. Struggling to match his pace, you found yourself clawing at the back of his trench coat, one of your legs hooking around his thigh as he pushed your dress up to your stomach, revealing more soft skin and supple flesh for him to grip and sink his nails into. He grunted against your neck, a string of expletives among sinful praises, and you shut your eyes, head thrown back at the thrill of having him act so needy, so desperate for you. 
You couldn’t care about anything, not anymore, but your memory recalled the sour look he made when he checked on his watch a moment ago. How much time do we have until he really needs to go? “Jinwoo—ah—” You felt his teeth grinding not so gently against your skin, marking you as if he wanted to leave something for you to remember him by, to ache for in your wake. “W-what time should you be leaving—”
His fingers circled your throat, holding you dominantly in his grip. “Ten minutes ago. Open your mouth.”
He deepened the kiss as soon as you parted your lips for him, moaning at the burst of your taste on his tongue. You welcomed his taste with a gasp, your hands now crawling up his nape, his hair, making a nest out of his strands the same way he made a mess out of you. His tongue delved inside, begging for a sliver of your sweetness, but you wanted to give him everything, and you did, your tongue sliding against his own, kissing him as if this was your last time to remember just how amazing he felt against you, lips to lips, tongue to tongue, body to body. All the fear you had over his departure, all the love you held for him, they dissolved into one, into this burning ache that permeated your core, the need to have him close.
And God, you wanted more, wanted him so badly, it felt like torture.
“Fuck,” Jinwoo groaned, followed quickly by a low moan of your name. He was really trying to hold back, to only settle down for a kiss or two, but— “Why do you have to be so goddamn irresistible all the time?”
He was suffering just the same, one hand slamming against the door to maintain his distance, to keep him away from crushing you, from becoming one with you. It balled into a fist, evidence of what was left of his self-control; his fingers clenched so tightly that it painted his knuckles white and his palm crimson. His other arm snaked around your waist as his mouth sucked bruises on your collarbone, his nails clawing against the fabric of your dress, eager to tear it apart right then, right there. Rough, sinful noises continued to stream past his lips as you brought your lower half even closer to him, the sound low and deep; it was almost primal. 
“Ngh, baby, please—” He pleaded with his eyebrows sewn together, his jaw slackening at the sensation of you pushing your hips back, grinding on him. You could feel just how hard he was beneath his pants, the contour of his cock nudging deliciously against your clothed heat. It excited you, your heart swelling in satisfaction at how fast you could turn the most powerful man in the world into a desperate lover with only a few touches. Only you had this power over him, and he made sure to worship you for it.
His body reacted instinctively, rocking his hips against yours, quickly taking over control. Somewhere in the labyrinth of your mind, a voice reminded you to stop, he’s already late as it is, and you can’t do this here, not outside, not for everyone’s eyes to see, but when Jinwoo caught your earlobe between his teeth, his voice dangerous and guttural when he said, “God, Sweetheart, you don’t know how much I want to be inside you right now,” all you could think was—
Yes, please.
You smashed your lips against his, your fingers tugging hard at the roots of his hair, robbing another shameless moan out of him. He welcomed your burning passion, reciprocating it by doubling the intensity. None of you gave a damn where you were or what time it was; none of it mattered, not anymore. You just needed him, and he needed you. Not just want. Need.
Jinwoo unclasped his belt with one hand while keeping hold of your face with the other; his movements rushed, lacking the usual grace that he normally exuded. You were sure he didn’t mean to tear your lingerie apart, but even if he did, it would’ve only added more fuel to the shimmering flames inside you. Now that your bottom half was bare and exposed, he took himself out of his confinement, holding his length in one hand, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip as he rubbed his tip against your protruding clit.
You shivered, your hips swaying on their own, begging him to just ram it inside. “Jinwoo, please.”
“You’re gonna make me lose my mind,” he growled, lifting your body higher on the wall, making you hold on to nothing but him to fight back gravity. “Arms around my neck,” he commanded, his mouth hot against your jawline. His coat slid off his shoulders as he positioned himself over your entrance, pooling around his elbows.
But then, Jinwoo slowed down amidst the heat of your passion, just for a moment. Even as his desire consumed him from within, your consent remained a top priority. He needed to make sure that he wasn’t hurting you or, worse, doing anything you didn’t want him to. Your husband took a second to look at you, wanting you to give your permission out loud even when all his heightened senses and perceptions had found their answer a while ago. “Can I have you?”
Your reply came in the shape of you carding your fingers through his locks again, your mouth colliding with his as you spread your legs a little wider. “Yes,” you breathed out. “I need you, please—oh!” 
You felt him pushing himself inside the second your plea left your mouth, stretching all of your walls at once. 
“Ah, fuck,” Jinwoo groaned deep and loud, slamming one hand against the wall, the vein in his neck popping from beneath his pale skin. His reaction was almost as if he’d never experienced such pleasure before, his body trembling at the feeling of your heat tightening around him, so drenched inside that you could take him—his everything—all in one go. “God, you feel so good.” He locked your lips together again, moaning at the feeling of being shrouded by your warmth. He moved his hips tentatively to ensure your comfort, but he surrendered immediately after the first try. “Sorry, Sweetheart, I don’t think I can—ngh—hold back—” 
He began to move, his teeth nibbling on the skin of your shoulder to contain his grunts, his hips thrusting fast and rough, sliding himself in and out of you in the desperation of a heated beast seeking a release. Just like him, you were feeling it much more than anything you’d ever done with him. Maybe it was the place, the sensation of doing something so indecent, so out in the open. Maybe it was because you were both trying so desperately to comfort yourselves, to forget your upcoming separation, even only for a moment. Or maybe it was simply because you loved him so ardently, the same way he did about you. 
Now that the sun had sunk entirely below the horizon, the night was nearly pitch black. No stars were in sight, as if they grew too shy to witness something so obscene. Detecting the darkness around you, the lights around the house switched on automatically, illuminating the entryway and the lush garden around you with a warm, romantic glow. The magical view of the scenery usually brought a sense of serenity to your heart, but no, not that night. Not when you were stuck in a very compromising position with your husband. The worst one of all was the three pendant lights shining brightly above you, dangling from your high ceilings, exposing the way your bodies rocked together in rapid, rhythmless motions for the whole world to see.
You couldn’t help but be distracted by them, your body tensing. If anyone were passing by, with the way your husband had you pinned against the wall, your heels digging to the small of his back, your fingers tugging on the roots of his hair, they would discover you in a heartbeat. 
“J-Jinwoo—wait—the lights—”
With his lips sucking hard bruises on your neck, Jinwoo lifted one hand in the air and clenched his fingers into a fist. All the lightbulbs shattered at once, their sounds piercing the air, stealing a surprised yelp out of you, which he silenced immediately with his mouth. The same invisible force shielded you from the pieces of glass raining down from the ceiling, leaving your heart rattling in your chest but your skin uninjured.
You were embraced by the darkness again, though it was never as thick as you would love it to be. The silver moonlight still bathed your skin, and the golden shine of the bollard lights surrounding your garden remained bright enough for you to discern your husband’s features, but at least, you no longer felt like you were standing under the spotlight. You still couldn’t entirely chase your anxiety away, however, and noticing that, Jinwoo captured your face, his fingers pressed firmly on each side of your jaw.
"Focus on me,” he said, palm plastered against the front of your throat. Although pain was absent from his touch, his hold on you was firm, controlling, his voice commanding. “I don’t want you to think about anything else. Keep your eyes on me. Focus on how I’m making you feel right now.” 
And it felt good. He made you feel so damn good that by the time he plunged himself deep into you again, you found yourself crying out against his mouth, clutching onto him like a lifeline. Jinwoo was just as deep in rapture as you were, unintentionally ripping the top buttons of your dress in his desperation to taste more of your skin. He was beyond aggressive, unrestrained, and impatient, and God, you loved it. You couldn’t remember the last time he was like this, and the feelings brought you quickly to ecstasy. 
You were close, your pleasure building up faster than it ever did. “Jinwoo, I’m—”
“I know,” he moaned against your shoulder, his teeth just one pressure away from sinking into your flesh. “I’m close too, angel, just a little bit… ngh… more…”
He quickened his pace, taking his cock completely out of you only to drive himself back to the hilt, each thrust hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. You fell over the edge with your lips parted in a silent moan, your nails scraping against the back of his shirt, your legs shaking, tautening around him as you reached cloud nine.
The sensation of your walls closing in around his cock was almost too much to bear, but he needed that one single push, just one sweet moan from you in the shape of his name, to make him grasp that vigorous wave of euphoria. “Sweetheart, please—”
Knowing exactly what he was begging for, you embraced him closely by the neck, gripped his soft locks beneath your fingers, and whispered the words he’d been dying to hear right against his mouth.
“I love you, Jinwoo.” 
He shuddered, his skin breaking into goosebumps, and he finished inside you with a deep, gravelly groan erupting from the back of his throat. His hips stuttered, slowing down but not yet stopping until he finished spilling everything inside. His breaths came out raggedly, hot against your neck. His left hand was still glued to the wall beside your head. 
As your tremors began to dissipate, your husband carefully placed you back on your feet, holding you close until you could stand on your own. Your legs felt like jelly beneath your weight, your strength leaving you after experiencing what might be one of the most mind-blowing orgasms you’d ever had.
“That was… intense,” Jinwoo tittered breathlessly, his hair all tousled, his face the prettiest shade of pink. It mesmerized you just how stunning he looked like this, and it satisfied you more than anything to know that you would always be the one—the only one—who could see this side of him, who could bring this side of him into view. Little did you know he was thinking the same thing about you. The way you stood there, gazing up at him with your starry eyes slightly watery from your orgasm, your dress torn and crumpled, your skin marked and claimed. He could easily go for another round—or three—if you let him.
“You okay?” He asked as he swatted the stray strands out of your eyes, helping you with your dress before he fixed his own attire. You nodded a bit drunkenly, and he let out another chuckle before planting a soft kiss on your temple. “I’m sorry for ruining your dress.”
“And my panties,” you added, snatching the torn fabric away from your heel. You stared flatly at it, your tone monotonous when you said, “Unbelievable. This is the third time, Jinwoo. Three times you’ve done this to me."
He was embarrassed by it. So cute. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not sorry,” you teased him with a poke on his cheek. “Buy me another one? The dress, I mean. I don’t trust you with my lingerie after what you bought me last time.”
He laughed softly at the memory. “I’ll buy you the prettiest one. Promise.” Brushing a light kiss on your temple, he spoke his worry once more. “How are you feeling? Did I hurt you?” 
The genuine concern in his tone caused your joy to unfold. In all honesty, yes, he did, but every pain was welcomed—no, every pain was desired, and you wished you could have more. More consuming kisses that left your lips swollen. More love bites on your neck that would last until he returned home. More bruises on your hips and thighs from how hard he was holding you. It felt nice to be dominated, to be owned, to be so wanted by your husband that he lost control of himself, of his mind. 
“What?” Jinwoo raised a brow, looking at you funny. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“Nothing,” you replied with a sheepish smile, stroking his cheek. But with him looking at you with such confusion in his eyes, you felt like you owed him the truth. “I just realized you never fucked me this way before, and it scares me just how much I enjoyed it.”
He blushed at your words, so fervently that you wondered if this was the same man who had just mounted you like a beast in heat a moment ago. But then he laughed, the sound so delicate and pretty in your ears. “I was going to apologize for being carried away, but…” He bent his head down, bringing himself to your eye level as a smirk crept up his lips. “If that’s what you’re into, then I have so much more in store for you.”
You swallowed, your skin tingling with excitement at the thought. “W-we can try that after you get home. Don’t you have a plane to catch?”
“Shit, you’re right.” As unbelievable as it was, he had truly forgotten about it. Jinwoo hastily rummaged through his pocket for his car key, racing against time. “Okay, I’ll be leaving now.” He kissed you quickly, almost making you stumble from how fast he was grabbing your face. “Goodbye, love. I’ll see you soon.”
“Jinwoo, wait,” you giggled, tugging him back by his arm. “You got my lipstick all over you.” You rubbed your thumb over his lips, trying to wipe off the red stain. “And your hair’s mess. Do you have a comb with you?”
“It’s all right, I love it like this.” He tossed you a boyish smile. “It feels like I’m carrying a part of you with me, like some kind of proof that reminds me of what we just did.” He then continued in a whisper, his smirk grazing your earlobe. “The same way you’re carrying a part of me… inside you.”
You grew mortified, all due to his words and the feeling of his essence seeping out of you. You could feel it trickling down your thigh before you squeezed your legs together, face aflame. “Leave. Now.” You whirled his body around, shoving him forward. “And tell your shadow soldiers to help me change the lights. I can’t believe you used your skill for that.”
He tossed you a grin over his shoulder. “Gotta make the best use of what I have, Sweetheart.” 
“I don’t think Igris would be happy to know that you’re using Ruler's Hand for sex.”
“Oh, baby, trust me, if I were planning to use Ruler’s Hand for sex, bursting lightbulbs would be at the bottom of the list.” His smirk carried the promise of something lewd, something naughty. “And also, if I’m happy, all my soldiers are happy, Igris included. And I’m definitely happy right now, all thanks to my sweet girl.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you snorted despite heat filling your cheeks. “Now go before Jinho kills you.” 
He chortled softly, “Yes, Ma’am.” 
You watched him stride away with your hands on your hips, sighing despite the way your lips curved up in amusement. You were going to miss these little banters you have. Some parts of you still refused to let him go, but when Jinwoo rolled down his window, giving you one last smile with one hand on the steering wheel, all you could say was, “Come home to me, darling.”
“I will, baby.”
And as he drove into the night, disappearing from your sight and leaving your heart lamenting in your chest, you knew you had no choice but to put your faith in him. This wouldn’t be the last time you see him. It would never be. Jinwoo would make sure of that.
Because if he had to watch the world burn for it, for you, then so be it. 
Heaven or hell, Gods or the Devils, I’ll destroy them all.
As long as I can come home to you, Sweetheart, nothing else matters. ***
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running-with-kn1ves · 3 days ago
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fem scientist who created a frankstein!reader to have the cherish and love them but reader doesn’t have a care for that wants to explore the real world 🌎
Or
reader with self esteem issues orders a fem!robot off a shady website because reader can’t rizz a real girl
(idk plot wise but can it end in smut? I just want to be loved and caressed by a pretty lady 🥲)
A/N: So real anon... Feeling off about this one, was going to scrap it but I spent too much time trying to FIX it.
CW: Sex Robot GF, NSFW, loser reader
_________________________
There she stood, like the life size version of a barbie doll in a box. Only, she was far more bubble-wrapped and covered in styrofoam packing peanuts than a plastic barbie would be. Ripping open the protective layers keeping her pristine were harder than setting the android’s system up itself, its interface automatically connecting to your Wi-Fi and booting up with the click of a button. 
This wasn’t a moment of glory or ravenous hunger-- there was a level of gut-turning excitement in the back of your mind, true, but it was clouded by the insecurity of your purchase. A sex doll? What would your friends think of you when they came over? How the hell would you hide a human-sized being in your tiny bedroom?
No. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be concerned with that-- it was too late. You already paid a year-long warranty and they were keen on no returns. Your neighbors probably thought it was a new fridge, maybe a pre-built bookcase from how big the box was; little did they know the naked woman in your apartment was a top-shelf, silicone-covered, glistening creature of man-made horror that sounded, acted, and mostly looked like a real human. If only her eyes were a little less… uncanny. That might make you feel a bit better about having her lean over you in bed, trying to drag you back in each time you attempted to get up for work-- a lovely, and realistic programming factor that made you feel wanted, desired. 
She could even work in the shower, waterproof and fireproof as shown in a few kitchen mishaps. Despite how many accidents and new challenges you faced with the android, she remained in prime condition, never losing face or acting out of sorts; she was the only constant in your life. And best of all, she performed exactly how you hoped she would. Most of the time.
The smooth flesh of her fingers heated as they lazily rubbed circles over your underwear, slender and long and yearning. Your eyes glazed over while staring at the dim TV, focusing on the hand against your crotch. It didn’t feel right, how desperately she seemed to want you; she wasn’t real, of course not. So why did it feel so good when she kissed your neck with a cute nuzzle and pulled at the zipper of your jeans, her body heating as if there were real veins, and blood pumping beneath her shell? 
“I want to please you..” She’d murmur, awfully humanlike. “You’ve been aroused all day; waiting for me to recharge?” The grin spreading across her face could be heard through each well pronounced syllable; like usual, her intuition was scarily accurate. “Mm, there’s wetness collecting beneath my hands, your heart is beating faster than usual…”
You shift with your legs wider, letting her have easy access to the heat pooling below your stomach. Her fingers had a magic touch you previously only fantasized about-- the real warmth of a woman, of someone who would reciprocate your seemingly loser-like desperation. 
You nodded to her direct question, watching dark eyes scan you for tell-tale signs; the rich brown hid how she planned her next set of moves inside intelligent hardware. She noticed the way your palms grew sweaty, biting your lips as you kept thinking of hers, your eyes half-lidded as she kept swirling her finger over that one spot…
“How do you want it,” She asked, unconsciously sultry with a cautious hand pressing deeper against you. “Hard, soft… You seem particularly worked up today.”
“Please just…” You sounded like a bumbling virgin compared to her lustful sultriness, fumbling. “I don’t want to talk about it, just give me this.”
Her disbelieving look left you feeling sheepish, but still she pulled her hair back into a sloppy ponytail, keeping your gaze with scrutiny as the hair tie hung from her mouth. She wasn’t going to give up that easily.
 “That’s what I’m here for,” She drifts your damp underwear to your knees, leaving a trail of slick as it peeled from you. “To help, and to listen. So, go on.” 
‘Listening’ was a choice word to use, as she slid down in between your bare legs, licking her lips.
Her mouth hovers over your sex, hot breath fanning as she looks up at you, her pupils unnaturally large. You wait for her to begin, but she keeps herself there-- watching. Was she really going to make you talk about your crappy remote job?
“I said go on.” 
You felt her dip down tongue-first before you realized what she was doing-- thrusting the wet, mechanical muscle inside as it curled up, caressing the sides of your walls with a gentle harshness. 
The involuntary gasp you released left you gripping onto the couch, watching as a flush filled her cheeks. Pretty, carefully placed lashes batted at you as she sunk deeper against your thighs. 
“It was just-- IT bullshit,” You let out, watching as she pulls at your hips to force you farther onto her mouth, the sensation quickly becoming overwhelming. The lust buzzes in your mind, fogging it as you allow your eyes to unfocus. “You know, the usual-- people who can’t-- can’t do their jobs!” 
You feel for her hair for support, grabbing below the android’s ponytail as her hair fanned over your wrist, tickling your skin as her tongue grew hot and fast, impossibly so. How were you ever going to find a real woman who could compare? She was equipped with the tools that could make you come in under a minute; barely had she touched you, and you were starting to feel the build of a deep burn that would soon rise to a shuddering, gripping climax. 
Her open-mouthed hum of approval vibrated against you, her mouth moist and warm as it sucked from below. 
With a slick pop, she pulled away from your sex and licked her top lip, her eyes fierce and almost fearful in their intensity. 
“You’re right, it was bullshit,” Her pearly, off-white teeth shining to perfection, giving you a smile that was just as lustful as it was devious. She was made for this, to make you ache when she wasn’t touching you. “But it doesn’t matter now; now, is your time to de-stress.”
She climbs with precision onto your lap, a hand pushing your chest down to force you tight against the couch. You almost looked pitiful, drunken with lust and craning your neck so you could have a taste of her berry pink lips. 
“Your expression looks desperate, wanting; from what I can tell, you’re going to come soon.” She hovers over your parted mouth, witnessing the chapped and bitten lips from a dehydrated all-nighter and poor self care; nothing got past her high grade processors, no matter how hard you tried to hide your flaws, or your yearning. “You’ll have to take better care of yourself when I’m not around, otherwise… I don’t know how I can let you come in good conscience.”
The frustration from her edging, her droning, the press of her knee between your legs-- You had yet to figure out how to reprogram her cleverness, her knack for a soft form of mental sadism.
“Okay, okay,” It’s hard not to arch up against her as she finds the shell of your ear, flicking her tongue against it-- enticing you to submit. “I…promise. I’ll eat like-- a salad or something, tonight…”
Her fingers sweetly brush hair away from your eyes, watching as you practically drool for them-- she’s not easy to get past-- and breaking a promise like this, would leave you to be more destitute than if you actually just started taking care of yourself. 
“That’s what I like to hear.”
The android falls to your mouth, letting your tongue find hers as you muffle a moan against her, her touch mimicking a gentle kind of intimacy. It felt unbelievably comforting, warmth spreading in your chest and your belly; almost as good as if she were made of real flesh and bone. 
For a moment, you could forget the mess of your apartment, the missed calls sitting on your phone, the credits rolling on the television. It was her hand cupping your most sensitive aspect, driving you near to an orgasm that would leave you limp and shaking. As sad as it might be, this was the best part of your day. No more crappy phone calls or endless doom scrolling, just her, and you. Her hand down south, grinding against your leg as you lean into her touch.
Your human body however was no match for her stamina-- not to mention, your lack of doing anything but rotting in your apartment  has left you breathless just trying to thrust into her hand. 
Breaking the kiss she grins at your predictability, your rising heart rate. 
“Don’t go soft on me now, little human; keep going, love.”
Those sweet words could have you on your knees in a second, and they did wonders for your failing breaths. 
“Don’t stop,” You pitifully command. Your useless hands once resting on her hips fell into the dip of her loose shirt, where she lacked any bra to keep her uncannily perfect, symmetrical breasts in prime access. If you had the strength to move her iron body any closer, you’d shove your face against them to keep the world out. 
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” She whispers in your ear as you finally find the end you’ve been waiting for; letting her draw you to the crash of your orgasm, you find your finale. She lets you grip and cling like a desperate lover, the android holding you tight against her skin as her fingers move at an inhuman speed, letting lewd sounds fill the living room. 
You give yourself the freedom to scream against her, letting the pent up desire and need release from you as a shivering detox. The exhaustion sets in almost immediately, the sensation of her immovable grip on you leaving a painful sting as she rubs out the lasting spikes of your orgasm.
You try to find solace in the sound of her beating chest matching in rhythm with your own. The credits of your unwatched movie are still rolling, and you realize the last few minutes were just that-- minutes. It felt like an eternity being in the grip of arousal; a part of you wishes you were still in it, being rubbed slowly, just to keep her feeling you up.
“I love you.” She murmurs, slightly winded and drowsy, as if it were you speaking; for a moment you don’t think you’ve heard her right. But again, she whispers it into your other ear, squeezing around you. You go still, wordless with your heart skipping beat after beat, wondering if the afterglow of your orgasm has completely broken the last shred of your sanity. 
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rendiamberspirit · 18 hours ago
Text
Mute Tobirama AU
Peace happens the way it should, (with Izuna living after Hashirama saves him) and all through peace talks Tobirama never speaks a word.
The Uchiha notice him using hand signs, but they all just assume that's so they can speak without the Uchiha knowing what they are saying. They are doing the same so it's a logical conclusion.
But now it's a year into peace and it finally occurs to Madara and Izuna that they have NEVER heard Tobirama speak.
Once they reach this conclusion they start paying attention and they realize there is always a Senju around him that will talk for him.
His secretary sits at a desk in his office though right by the door instead of back by the window and she will respond to any questions being asked. And if she doesn't have the answer she will tell them to come back later when Tobirama has time.
Touka, Hashirama or Mito are almost always with him when he is away from his desk.
And if he is walking around in the village and someone asks him something a random Senju will suddenly be there answering whatever is asked.
When he is given a kind greeting he will smile and nod. But never speak.
And he never goes on a mission with anyone but a Senju, if he has a partner that is.
Everyone has always assumed he was just kind of stuck up, or possibly very very awkward in a social situation. No one would call him shy of course. But they really don't have a better word, so they go with awkward.
But now Madara and Izuna know. They know it's more than shy, more than awkward.
And they want answers!
So Izuna does whatever ration person would do. Shows up unannounced at their home and ambushes Tobirama. Starts with accusations of him being defective, or a liar, or too full of himself and racists to talk to people outside his clan.
In full view of Tobirama's protective sister in law.
Mito was not pleased.
Izuna opens his mouth again about to say something else unadvisable when Mito unleashes a wave of killing intent never before seen from her.
Madara was chatting with Hashirama in his office when they feel it.
Both of them shoot up and head straight to Hashirama's home.
Where they witness Tobirama holding Mito back from murdering Izuna, whose face is now sporting a huge shiner.
Mito is spitting mad. Swearing at Izuna with words that should never be repeated.
Madara's and Hashirama's jaws drop at the vile words she is spewing.
Tobirama stomps his foot twice and that spurs Hashirama into action and he takes over calming Mito.
Madara looks down at Izuna who hasn't gotten up from the floor.
"What did you do??"
"I may have, possibly called Tobirama defective for refusing to speak."
Madara slaps a hand to his face. "What is wrong with you?"
"I wanted to force him to tell the truth, to actually respond!"
Hashirama interjects at this point, "Tobirama is mute. How did you not realize that?"
All three Senju look legitimately confused.
"How would we know that? You say that like it's common knowledge!"
Tobirama makes a few signs to Hashirama who nods back.
"It has never been a secret. He has a secretary who does all his talking for him. He seriously has someone with him whenever shopping! It's not as if we were hiding it!"
"Trust me when I say this. But NO ONE knows that."
And they discover the next day that the Uchiha were in fact correct. A year after the village was built and not a single member of any of the clans knew Tobirama was mute.
They all, like the Uchiha, mostly just thought he was rude.
Once the cat is out of the bag all the Shinobi decide they need to be able to speak with Tobirama and learn to sign so they can understand him.
Which leads to opportunities for people who are deaf in the village. They finally have an easy way to communicate with everyone in the village.
Once Madara learns to communicate with Tobirama he finds that he enjoys the other man's company. And surprisingly that he has a great sense of humor.
A year after the discovery Madara works up the courage to ask Tobirama out to dinner, just the two of them.
Once they have finished eating Madara slides a box across the table to Tobirama.
Inside is the most beautiful hunting knife Tobirama has ever seen. When he looks up Madara signs to him "may I court you?"
Tobirama blushes a deep red and nods with a shy smile.
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vicky-0933 · 1 day ago
Text
The way you love me
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You have tolerated the way Melissa has been bullying you, the insults that kinda hurt you, but you never did anything, something about this day had tossed you over the edge. And Melissa tries to make amends, and now both of you are shoved into the janitors closet. What gonna happen now?
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Walking in, you already had a bad morning, you know when you have a bad feeling and knowing it, it can bring your whole mood down. Well that’s happened to you. You just want to be alone for today. Heading in the teacher lounge, you walk towards the coffee maker, grabbing a mug, but before you pour the coffee, “Well look who it is, it’s the little mouse” Melissa teased, slamming the mug on the counter making it break, turning to her.
“Can you not, Melissa, can you for one day, stop with whatever this is. What, you get joy of messing with me, do you like it when I don’t say anything to you, why do you do this. I didn’t do anything to you, and I already told you Melissa, I don’t like to be called that, so use my name” you shot back, surprising everyone, cleaning up the mess, you leave the room, now not having coffee to help you through your day.
Later on, when you teaching your students, you hear a knock, “Jamie can you open the door” you ask the student, the student opens the door, and Barbra walks in with with a coffee in hand, “Hey sweetheart, are you ok, gave us a fright back there this morning” Barbra asks you, the bells rings, “Alrighty kids it’s time to go home, I will see you tomorrow” you tell the kids and they leave.
“I am so sorry Mrs. Howard, I am really am, but…… I guess you can say that something happen this morning that’s really made me and mad when Melissa started talking and whatever, that’s when I snapped. I just….. I just want her to understand about my feelings, about how I want to be treated, I stopped saying anything because I know she likes to fight” you tell Barbra. She hands you the mug and you start drinking it, “Thank you, god I needed this, I was having a headache all day” you tell her.
As your talking to each other, you didn’t notice that Melissa was standing there, she started to feel guilty, she starts to walk back to her classroom. Soon Barbra leaves, you sit in your desk, feeling better with the coffee, you grab your things and head to your car. While walking there, Melissa walks up to you, “Hey sweetheart” Melissa tries to talk to you, “What do you want Schemmenti” you shoot back, not knowing what she is going to do.
“Hey there, look, you can relax, I am not going to do anything” she tries to reason, but for some reason you don’t believe her, “Yea sure, what are you going to do, look, I just got happy right now, ok, I don’t need you to ruin it for me” you tell her, thinking she is going to shoot something back. But she doesn’t, “Look, how about you come over to my place, I heard what you and barb were talking about in your room, and I want to apologize for it.” Melissa tells you.
“So now we are listening to each others conversations now, are we?” You ask her, “and what are you gonna do Schemmenti, huh, expecting me to forgive you after doing this for what, couple months thinking that I can forgive you like that” you tell her, she looks down, refusing to look at you. “You know for me, it takes a lot of time for me to forgive someone. So if you want me to forgive you. Then show it, show me that I can forgive you. Then maybe I will consider forgiveness” you tell her, walking away to the door.
As you leave, Melissa just stands there, not knowing what to do. The next day you come in, feeling better, walking in the teacher lounge and saw Melissa there with two cups of coffee. You get ready for the comments to start but she walks in front of you and outs of her hand. “Umm here for you, Yn” Melissa says, but you just look at her, you roll your eyes and walk back to your classroom. “Yn wait, please” you hear Melissa beg behind you, you stop and turn to her.
You look at her with a disapproving look, but you notice that Melissa is acting different, “what can I help you with” you ask her, “Please Yn, just take the coffee, I tried to make it like how you make it, but I don’t know if it’s going to be good” Melissa kinda whispers, you grab the coffee and walk away. Melissa just stands there with her coffee, Barbra comes out the lounge, “Girl what was that, what are you doing” she asks.
“I don’t know Barb, I want to make it up to her, look I heard what you were talking about the other day, and now I regret everything I did, how do I do that” Melissa asks her, “look just give her some time, but just change a bit, little by little” Barbra says, trying to calm her down. Melissa starts feeling stressed, and Barbra hugs her, and now this time you listen in on their conversation. You sigh quietly and walk to your class, wondering what’s going to happen now.
After a while, weeks go by, and Melissa avoids you, and you understand why, and the group start to notice it. When all of a sudden, you get called to to janitors closet, and when you check it, you get shoved into it, about to fall but someone catches you. You look up to see Melissa there, you both just look at each other. “Damn they are so easy to manipulate” you hear Ava say, you both turn to see the group there, “what is this, what is going on” you ask getting off of Melissa but staying next to her.
“You both are not getting out there until you both forgive each other” Jacob tells you, you and Melissa look at him like you want to kill him. “Jacob, this-” Melissa starts to speak but the door shuts, leaving you both inside. What is going to happen now. You sigh, already feeling your anxiety buildup, this was not you wanted, you were going to talk to her somehow but not like this. You can feel yourself shaking, when Melissa comes in and hugs you, making the feeling go away.
You decide to hug her back, both of you just hug each other for a long time, “I’m sorry” you hear Melissa say, you pull away and see her green eyes look soft, “what” you ask her, not really hearing her the first time. “I am sorry, like I really am. I don’t what came over me, but there was something growing in my chest, that I haven’t felt in a long time. And I tried to make it go away” Melissa starts to say.
You find a seat and sit down, “Melissa what are you talking about” you ask her, wondering where this was going. “Well, umm…. Look I didn’t know this about my self, about this new thing. I… ummm…. God how do I say this” Melissa starts to stutter, “god Melissa just get to the point” you tell her, she snaps, “I am in love with you, Yn, there… that’s it, I am in love with you, I tried to make the feeling go away, by being mean to you” Melissa says and you just stare at her.
She keeps rambling, but you don’t hear that part, that part she said about her liking you, you didn’t realize that she was done talking, “God damn it Yn say something” Melissa yells at you, but you freeze, then you look down, “So you don’t like me back do you, I guess I really pushed you away” Melissa scoffs, “No you didn’t” you whisper. “What”, you look at her, “You didn’t push me away Mel, not gonna lie, I was kinda waiting for this but not this way” you tell her.
Melissa scoffs, walking towards the door, checking if it locked, and the door opens, “you gotta be fucking kidding me” Melissa says, “It was open the whole time” you ask her, she nods and is about to walk out, when you grab her hand, pulling her back a bit. “Mel, umm I guess I am also sorry” you say, running your thumb across her hand, feeling how soft it is. “For, not letting you have a chance” you say, whispering. She just looks at you, smiles and peck you on the cheek, and walks away.
“God damn it Jacob, I told you that they will figure out that the door will be open” you hear Ava say, you walk out the door and close it. You see the group standing there, but you don’t say anything and walk the other way, as you are walking to your class you suddenly get pulled into a room, and get slammed to the door. You see Melissa blocking you from leaving, “god what is it with you people a pushing and shoving me around” you teased.
Melissa chuckles, she puts her hand on your face, now with the kids gone for the day, and both doors closed, she kisses, which surprises you. But you kiss back, the kiss was…. Nice, slow, you put your hands on her hips, bring her closer to you. She puts her hands in your hair, not wanting to pull away, but you both needed air. Pulling away, you both gasp, and just stare at each other, you smile and hug her. Feeling the way her body fit with yours, and just stay like for a while.
“I take it that you forgive me” Melissa whispers, holding you tight like if you were going to leave, “I guess you can say that” you whisper back, then a knock on the door make you both jump and separate, “You should go get that” you tell Melissa, you go a sit on her desk, Melissa opens the door and walks outside, after a while, you sigh, “god what am I doing, this is not was I expecting” you whisper to yourself. “So what were you expecting” you hear Melissa behind you.
You chuckle, “This, for me, like I’ve always wanted to do that, but never thought it would be today” you tell her but still not facing her, she stands in front you, putting her hands on both your sides, “oh hun, I would say that you are…. lucky, aren’t you, little mouse” she teases, and you look at her with a smirk, “maybe I am” you say, putting your hands on her head, bringing her into a kiss again, this time it was…. Amazing, but soon it turning to a hungry kiss, her hands roaming your body.
She pulls away and starts kissing your neck, putting her hands on your ass and bring you closer. “F~fuck Mel” you moaned out, now grinding your hips, trying to get some friction. “God you sound like an angel” Melissa tells you, giving you an other kiss, then a loud knock happened again, “god damn it, WHAT” Melissa yelled, the knocking wouldn’t stop, she groans and walks to the door.
She opened the door, “what do you want” and she sees the group there, “oh we were wondering if Yn was there” Jacob asks her, “why you wanna know” she snaps back, “oh because we wanted to know is she was ok” Janine tells her, Melissa doesn’t say anything, “hold on”, she closes the door, “I suggest fixing yourself up, they wanna talk to you” Melissa says, you sigh, and fix yourself up, Melissa comes up to your and wipes your mouth, as your lip stick is messy.
“Thank you, Mel” you whisper to her, she smiles and nods towards the door, “Wait” Melissa says behind you, turning you around and gives you a big kiss then opening the door, “What’s up guys” you ask them, soon you guys talking, you feel Melissa lifting your shirt and putting her hands on your back as she stand behind you, but getting more closer to your bra, and messing with it, like she wanted to take it off right there.
“Well guys thank you checking up on me, but I should go, it’s getting late so see you guys tomorrow” you tell them, getting back inside, you look at Melissa with a “what the fuck” look and she chuckled, and started to talk to the group, your grab your things, but you wrote something down.
~if you wanna come to my place, here
is my address, and my number~
xx. :)
And walk towards the door, give the group a nod and leave, smiling on your way to your car. When you get there, your phone dings, and see a message.
“I miss you already”
You chuckle, seeing that it’s Melissa that texted you.
“Miss you too babygirl”
Sending that message, you head back to your house, change and sit the couch. Then you get a knock on your door, you walk up to the door and open it to see Melissa, “I’m sorry, but I need to keep kissing you” Melissa says walking in and bringing you into kiss. You giggle, bringing you both to the couch, laying down, Melissa sits on your lap, that’s all you do, just kiss. Enjoying each other company, giving each other kisses for the rest of the day.
————————————————————————
Let me know what you guys think. 💭
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sonic-takeover · 3 days ago
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thanks for the well wishes mod!!
anyways sonic and shadow you 2 better start lookin for someone to repair that swap ray thing... i highly doubt (no matter how GAY you two are for eachother...) that you like being eachother. so i reccomend tails !! he should understand
or orbot & cubot, robotnik, heck even stone!! good luck you 2, i hope i didnt make this whole thing too inconvinent for you... heh
-🍽️
Yeaaahhh.. while this has been fun, I.. kinda miss running like usual.
So do I. I can't trust that Sonic is taking good enough care of my body and it's making me anxious. I've taken to doing skincare on him myself to make sure the job gets done.
Yeah.. and I miss hanging out with our friends. It feels like forever since we've been able to actually, I dunno... Hang out?
Mm.
*there's a knock on their door, then Tails pokes his head in* Uhh.. guys? Hi..
Speak of the devil.
Oh, hey Tails- I mean uh... Oh. You. The fox. Grr.
I don't sound like that.
Shut up-
...you know we can all tell something is wrong, right..?
... You can?
Yeah. It's painfully obvious. Plus someone told me your eyes are the wrong colors. What's going on? *He flies into the room and starts giving Shadow a checkup*
... How do I put this lightly ... Hm....
Eggman switched out bodies but we broke the machine that did it so now we're stuck pretending to be each other which is kinda fun but also exhausting, please help us.
.....
..... That tracks. Lemme see the machine. *Shadow picks up the pieces and hands them to Tails. Tails studies it closely* wow... This tech is really complex. Eggman must be working hard to improve his gadgets. It explains the new bots, too. I'll see what I can do to repair it. Until then, I'll let the others know you're not yourselves. That way, you won't have to hide!
..heh.. thanks Tails.
No problem, Sha- I mean.. Sonic. Heheh! *He leaves the room with the switchray. Shadow sits on the bed*
..... I... Guess we made a big deal of this for nothing... Didn't we ...
Mmm... Yep. It sure was fun though. *He sits next to him and bumps his shoulder against Shadow's* You can still do that skincare stuff to my face if you want. And the eyeliner thing.
... You .... Want that..?
*Sonic rubs the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly* eheh... Uh... Yeah. I liked it.
... Heh. Good. So did I. *He leans against Sonic*
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iturmom · 5 months ago
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i've had a rough day. i made a new kitty friend just a few days ago. he's so sweet and friendly. he's talkative. but this morning he was being playful and he bit me a little too hard. he did break skin but it's the tiniest little nibble, only even one of his fangs broke skin and it was barely to the point that i wasn't even sure he did. but he's a stray, i'm sure of it bc his ear fungus and the sores on his body.
so i spent the whole day making phone calls trying to figure out what to do so i finally got through to the rabies nurse at the city health department and he told me of course to either get a rabies vaccine or call animal control so they could monitor him for 10 days. i can't afford to go to the er when i'm pretty sure he doesn't have rabies cause he doesn't seem at all rabid and i don't know if i can monitor him myself for 10 days bc i don't know when i'm moving but it seems like less than 10 days and he's a stray how would i know if he just didn't show up one day? i'm moving soon so i can't spend all day outside looking for him i'll need to pack and clean. and i've got other stuff going on too. i wanted to spend today preparing for halloween and cleaning and cooking food so that i didn't eat too much of the food for tomorrow and i wanted to make more food for tomorrow. and i wanted to hang out and watch spoooy stuff. but i couldn't think about anything else until i found a solution, so spent all day googling and making calls.
so i ended up calling animal control and that was a mess. the guy had me try to put the cat in a cage instead of trapping him with bait. he scratched me up good and i was so scared that he wouldn't trust me anymore but he came right back to me and he was all over me and it killed me when he nibbled me not once but twice bc he was so gentle when he nibbled so so gentle feather light nibbles barely there. and i was sobbing bc if he had just bit me that gently in the first place then today would have gone so much better for both of us! so then the guy finally brought out the live trap and the wet food. the poor kitty freaked out in the trap poor thing poor little guy.
the whole ordeal took an hour and a half of agony. i sobbed on the phone to my partner scared they might put him down and just about the trauma it caused him and how if he had just been so gentle the first time! i probably drove him crazy saying that over and over. but the animal control guy told me they won't put him down, and he even said he would request that they trap and release him without me even asking! so hopefully he'll just bounce back from the trauma. my partner made me get off the phone cause we have a big day tomorrow of going to the clinic (i can still go to the one at the homeless shelter for free for another year) since the rabies nurse at the health department said i should get antibiotics they can do that much at the clinic and maybe they might even have some resources for a rabies vaccine surely not at the clinic but maybe they can help me somehow wishful thinking. and then after the clinic we're going to celebrate halloween at my place so big day he forced me off the phone cause i was still hysterical. but he actually texted me back for a while which he never does when we get off the phone for the night. but i was still texting after he finished responding and i finally gave him the good news which i'm not sure that he was totally aware of cause he only heard my side of the conversation when i was on the phone with him while talking to the animal control guy, so i put into plain words how he said he'd request tnr and the hopeful declaration that maybe he'll just bounce back from the trauma before too long. and then i realized. i told my partner i was going to take him to meet the kitty tomorrow morning when he came over for halloween. but now he won't get to meet the kitty bc i'll certainly be moved before the kitty gets released.
and then i smoked a cigarette that i found on the ground recently. i haven't smoked a cigarette in over a year and at that point it was already rare that i smoked. that realization really made an already brutal day even worse. it like punched me in the face.
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hotroadkill · 11 months ago
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today 2 years ago i was in america and i had the worst hangover of my life and i was in a waffle house with my friend in awkward silence bc we’d fought in a stranger’s kitchen the night before and the server refilled my water for the 5th time while i fought to swallow half a forkful of hashbrowns and she said “i know that look, y’all had a good time at the superbowl last night” and i was thinking actually we had a mediocre time at a nerd bar where u throw darts and all the drinks r named weird things and anyway my friend gives the fakest laugh ive ever heard followed by “yep we sure did” like are we in a CW show right now what was that line delivery and also what even is the superbowl i was born here and should know but honestly i’ve always just pictured everyone gathering at a comically large bowl of cereal but her nametag says leslie and she’s really nice and she’s refilling my water for the 6th time so yeah sure whatever i’m a red blooded american i’ll be anything for leslie in this moment anything and she tells us stories about working at bars downtown and my friend tells me bad jokes and i feel a little better even though my heart is kind of withering away because my flight is in 17 hours and theres not enough time never enough time i won’t see him for another year and a half and i won’t ever see leslie again and if i ever run into the italian stranger who fell in love with me over darts then it won’t be the same because we won’t be dancing and i’m sitting in a waffle house while the sun sets and i’m sweating gin and tequila and my flight is in 16 hours and i have so many goodbyes to say in this
city because when i was fifteen somebody threw my glass heart onto the floor of my childhood house and bits of it shattered everywhere and fell into the cracks of the floorboards and behind the fridge and i’ll never ever get them out much less back together but i feel like ive been trying for eight years all the same and my flight is in 15 hours but maybe if my friend brings me home now i can spend three of those looking for more shards even though i’ll cut my hand because time never wore down any of the hurt because time might heal wounds but it cant really do jack shit about a metaphysical glass shard its still gonna make me bleed and my friend brings me home and we curl up beside each other in my childhood bedroom thats too small for us it was really a supply room but it became my bedroom when i was eleven and i painted it blue and put up stickers of fish and never took them down but someone someday will take them down and hopefully the house burns to the ground before anyone can touch them theyre mine i grew up here theyre mine dont touch them dont please dont please please please i grew up here and my flight is in 12 hours now because i fell asleep beside my friend and he let me because he knew i needed it he kept watch even though we dont have time we never do because he has to go now and all i can give him is a hug and my hoodie to keep safe until i can see him again and fight him in a stranger’s kitchen again and the sun is gone now and i go and i sit with my dad and my flight is in 10 hours and im trying
not to cry im trying to stare at the stickers because maybe if i look at all of it hard enough i’ll get to stay but i dont because thats not how it works and now my flight is in 4 hours because i fell asleep in my childhood loft bed and now i have to leave i have to pack up and go for the fifth time and it never never gets easier and i know i only have a few more trips left until someone takes my stickers down and paints over my ocean but for now my best friend’s stepmother comes with me and my dad to the airport because my best friend is in college two states away and my flight is in 3 hours and i cry i cry so much and she cries too because she loves me and i think it is such a beautiful blessed thing that i am so loved but oh it is so painful too because i spend more time in its absence than its presence and my flight is in 2 hours and i have to go and my dad is waving goodbye and i see it because i looked back because im stupid i always look back i never look forward i’m forever walking blind through my life because i’m looking back and i can tell my dad is crying and now i have to go through TSA sobbing and it’s awkward because they ask are you okay kid and im not but i cant tell them sorry its just that when i was fifteen somebody threw my glass heart onto the floor of my childhood house and bits of it shattered everywhere and fell into the cracks of the floorboards and behind the fridge and i’ll never ever get them out i cant tell them that so i nod yes im okay and i go and my flight is in 1 hour and i hope it fucking crashes and my flight is in the air and im so far away from all those shards on the kitchen floor now but they’re hurting me all the same and i think i look kind of insane sobbing in the middle seat but how can i miss so many people and so many rooms at once and not lose my mind a little bit? i was going to tell you a short witty little joke about the time i realized i was 21 and didnt know what the superbowl was but i think i slipped on a shard. i’m sorry. maybe next time i’ll get it right. maybe in another two years. maybe you’ll never see me again. maybe this is all the time we had.
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muqingslover · 20 days ago
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Ok, so... this might be a bit of a +18 think piece, but... what do you think the lads men would have as their top 3 kinks? I started thinking about it after I read the Xavier somno one, lol. Maybe I'm crazy but I think Caleb would have blindfolds/rope play in his top 3 (on mc not on him, since he wants to see all of you but is very resultant to show all of himself back due to fear of rejection+ if mc is tied up she can't leave)
[ choosing only three was a lot harder than I thought whew. Also, I'm testing out different layouts rn so don't mind me (⁠^⁠~⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ]
Xavier
Predator/Prey Play: This guy is the literal definition of wolf in sheep's clothing. What gets him going is the thrill of the hunt and the turntables (his specialty), which is why he will often let you think you're in control and have your fun teasing him only to then pounce when you least expect. If you run from him then you better pray he won't catch you or not.
Exhibitionism: This might be a hot take but walk with me. Xavier is a very jealous man so he won't ever allow anyone to actually see you, buuuut he is very into letting others know you belong to him. You gotta leave for a mission with someone else? Not to worry, all he needs is 10 minutes in the bathroom stall. The bread guy is back at it again? It can't be helped, he'll just have to fuck against the door while he's knocking to show you're busy. He'd love to see you struggling (and failing) to keep your voice down and looks like a smug cat when others notice the marks he left on you.
Cunnilingus: This man eats pussy like a goddamn champ. He absolutely adores having your thighs wrapped around his head, to the point he finds it comforting, and the feeling of his tongue stretching open your dripping pussy for his cock later. Your taste is something he could have every day, which he will if you let him, and he takes pride when you're left a writhing, whimpering mess that begs for him to fuck you.
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Zayne
Bondage: The joke about him tying MC up with surgical knots was definitely not a joke. In my opinion, rather than the power rush over the control he has over you, what really gets him off is the trust you put in his hands. Bondage is all about having faith in your partner to never truly hurt you and knowing you see him that way makes him feel beyond special. Given the chance he'd love to have you wrapped in dark blue, silky ribbons and the aftercare is top tier with this guy.
Lingerie: For some reason I feel like Zayne is REALLY into seeing you wearing lingerie. Ladies, feel free to tease him by telling him you're wearing one, but not letting him see until he's home much later. He'll spend the entire day imagining what type of lace you have under your clothes and he pretty please asks you to strip for him as a reward for waiting.
Phone Sex: Another one I just have a feeling it's his thing. I mean, he is a busy man and sometimes it can't be helped, people have needs yk. He'd like the feeling of knowing you think of him as much as he does of you when the other is not around. The photos you send and the sounds of your needy whines right next to his ear goes straight to his cock and he is mortified when the post-nut clarity hits him and he realizes what he did in his own office.
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Caleb
Overstimulation: I'm an overly sensitive Caleb truther. The overstimulation has his head spinning so good that he can barely form a coherent thought that isn't your name while he slams into your pussy for the nth time like a desperate man. He doesn't want to simply break you he wants to break together, to the point neither of you can think about anything else besides how good it feels.
Roleplaying: I've lost count of the amount of times we've seen him and MC roleplaying and this man will unironically take it to the bedroom. It starts as a joke where he's only doing it to make you laugh, but then he won't allow you to break character and will edge you until you say your "lines" correctly. Forceful and cold soldier? Check. Teasing and pervy Gege? of course. A loving and gentle husband? Sign him up. Strict teacher? No need to ask twice.
Brat Taming: Now defying Caleb is the equivalent of waving a red flag in front of a bull and you better run because when he catches you you're done for. He needs you to need him as much as he needs you and if he has to break you for you to admit it then he will. The rush of being the one in charge and "taking care" of you in a way no one else will is enough to have his cock throbbing.
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Sylus
Breeding AND Biting: These two go hand in hand every time you have sex with him. He craves to have a family with you but, more than anything, he wants you to be as full of him as his heart is of you. He wants you to be so filled with his cum that he has to keep his cock inside otherwise it'll leak out of you. He absolutely enjoys the slippery mess your warm insides become when he rocks his hips into you, slowly but deep, pushing his cum even further into your womb and hoping you'll get pregnant.
Body Worship: I've said it once and I'll say it again: Sylus is a lover boy! ! ! Each kiss on your skin is an offering, a promise and a worship. He wants to know the parts of your body not even you do and give you the love you deserve. The praises he whispers against your body are similar to a prayer and he could spend years exploring every inch of you without ever getting tired. You're the very reason for his existence and any less is just unacceptable.
Size: This guy is not only big but he's also very large. He is a softie who likes to tease you about how small you are compared to him while he holds your hand and pretends he doesn't hear your complaints about him suffocating you after the draped his heavy body over yours. That feeling of satisfaction extends when he has to gently coo you and kiss your tears away while he's spreading your little hole open. He can't help the fangy grin on his lips when he feels his cock bulge on your tummy and he holds your hand over the spot so you feel how deep he is inside of you as well.
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Rafayel
Rough Sex: Another controversial take but I feel like he's a secret sadist just not the extreme type. Man can flip his demeanor from "harmless babyboy" to intimidating sea god in a split second who knows what else he's hiding under that purple wig. He'll keep an almost cold demeanor while he coaxes whimpers out of you in the best way and a wicked smirk spreads across his face at the sight of your tears, spurring him on until he's completely broken you.
Food Play: That's definitely one way to make sure he actually eats. Having you be his meal will make him hungry like never before and oh he absolutely will feast (this may or may not be a reference to this). He makes a point of not using his hands while licking along your skin, tasting the sweet chocolate before he left a purple mark on your thighs. Oh, this goes both ways so please pour wine on him and lick him clean ;)
Body Painting: I forgot if there's an actual English term for this but Rafayel would love to draw on your skin and watch you squirm each time the soft, wet brush went over your perked up nipples. He'd scold you when you move because you're making him smudge the lines and holds you in place with his free hand, warning you to stop or he'll take "extreme measures" to make you keep still. You are the only one he'd ever dare to call a masterpiece.
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corkinavoid · 10 months ago
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DPxDC Shit Fae!Danny Has Said While Living With Waynes
Danny, making a 'got your nose' gesture: Hey Jason, look, I've got your name!
Red Hood, who suddenly can't remember his own name: What the fuck
Bruce, in a tired dad voice: Danny, please, we talked about this, return your brother's name back
Danny: Oh, come on, it's not like he even uses it
Jason, thankfully remembering his name: And I repeat, what the f u c k
Steph, at dinner: I was wondering, what do faeries even eat normally? Like, flowers and stuff?
Danny, his eyes two black voids inside his eyesockets: The souls of the innocent
Steph: So that's a 'no' on the flowers?
Danny, back to normal and shoving a bagel in his mouth: I mean, I can, but would you want to stay on the crumbs-only diet when you are in a 5-star Michelin restaurant?
Tim: It's actually 3-star. Michelin rating system only has three stars, not five.
Dick: Are you saying that people are basically food joints for Fae?
Damian, at Constantine: It would do you well to choose your wording better when speaking to fair folk-
Danny, very much a fair folk, appearing out of thin air in the Cave: Yolo, s'up bitches, guess who's back in town!
Damian: -even when they do not necessarily do so themselves.
Constantine, looking between them: Are you sure you're the human and he is the changeling?
Tim, 46 hours of no sleep: Hey, if you can take a name from someone, does it mean you can take, like, other things that have no real shape or form?
Danny: Names do have shape and form, they even have taste. Yours is like a ping-pong ball made out of really dense cotton candy with banana-caramel flavor.
Tim, losing his touch with reality: Dense banana cotton candy...
Danny: By the way, I know you wanted to ask me if I could take your need to sleep from you, and theoretically, the answer is yes.
Tim, his whisper full of hope: ...will you?..
Danny: No. Either go to sleep or keep suffering. I'm not here to make your life easier.
Danny, after a half-an-hour rant on the Fae customs and traditions: -and Fae never tell the truth, but also never lie. It's a work of art, you know, say what you want but never in a way that makes sense.
Jason: So Fae just like to fuck with people.
Danny, looking him in the eyes, smiling and winking: Sure, humans are very fuckable.
Bruce, trying very hard not to pay attention to this: Can you make an example?
Danny: Sure. I lied.
Bruce: Where?
Danny: :)
Bruce, feeling like he is about to lose his mind: W h e r e ?
Alfred, right after he heard Dick's muffled screaming in the hallway: Young Master Danny, would you mind returning Master Dick his ability to talk in coherent sentences?
Danny, obediently standing up and walking out of the library: ...okay.
Bruce: How come he always listens to you?
Alfred: He knows what I will do if he doesn't.
Danny, returning to the library: He will change all the silverware to iron-ware. As well as the doorknobs and hairbrushes and lightswitches and everything else.
Alfred: Did you fix Master Dick's shoes?
Danny: I did. But I still think that making all of his shoes left ones was funny.
Alfred: Indeed, it was.
| <-prev | next-> |
There's also a fic now.
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bagholes · 2 months ago
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English subtitles for Johanne Sacreblue
You've probably heard of a parody of Emilia Pérez (produced by a Mexican trans woman!!!) called Johanne Sacreblue. The whole thing is in Spanish (and French, obviously), so I translated the whole thing to English (see read more)
While I wasn't involved in the production of the original short, I'm Mexican and I have a degree in Translation and Applied Linguistics, so hopefully you'll enjoy my translation. Please give the video some love and don't give Emilia Pérez more attention!!
!!!!!!!! ENGLISH SUBTITLES !!!!!!!!!
(Hey! I'm a professional translator, and I translated the whole thing in English. Please upvote so more people can enjoy this video!)
Ah, nauseating France.   
Home of wonderful food such as baguettes, croissants, and more.
Lots of wonderful people live here.
Obviously, we’re French. 
This might look like a love story,
but open your eyes and pay attention!
In France there’s rising burglary rates. 
But why tell you about France when I can show you?
Welcome to la France!
Welcome to la France.
A unique and special country.
Where you’ll know what it means to truly love. Love, love from France.
Live the experience of this place. 
[Homer Simpson voice] Wow, classy.
Maitre D': Good evening, sir. Would you please leave without a fuss right now?
Homer: OK.
Welcome to la France
where you’ll get your heart stolen,
and your wallet, too.
Welcome to la France,
but if you’re Muslim, homosexual, or Black,
I want you to stay back. 
Crêpes? Les crêpes? I didn’t shower today. 
I’m not worried. I smell just fine. 
Like rats, sweat, and wine.
The cheese I eat smells better than me,
but my perfume can take care of it. 
I love feeling superior. 
Here’s some rapping just because. 
Oh, mon ami. Merci. Sacré bleu. Comment tu t’appelles? Merci. Déjà vu. Bon voyage! Pizza, kwason. 
It’s croissant, croissant, croissant!
Welcome to la France
where you’ll get your heart stolen,
and your wallet, too.
Welcome to la France,
but if you’re Muslim, homosexual, or Black,
I want you to stay back. 
Hit it, Mbappé. 
Viva Cinco the Mayo!
Long live cakes!
Marie Antoinette! 
Long live cakes!
My fucking crêpe still hurts when I think of you
Part 1: surprise and challenge.
Maybe all those years living in a ranch were good for him.
He wasn’t living in a ranch!
He lived in Mexico City for ten years.
Same thing. It might as well have been a jungle.
Mexicans are savages. 
Do you know what they do to cheese over there?
They eat it fresh!
I don’t think he copied their ways.
He’s still a good Frenchman.
He better be. I expect no less.
He’s my only son. 
All the suffering in Mexico must’ve gotten rid of his rebel nature. 
He’ll be the perfect man. The perfect male successor for the largest baguette company in France.
My son. My manly son. 
Did I already mention that my son is a man?
He’s here!
Maman, papa… bonjour!
Son of a-
[title credits] Johanne Sacreblue. Directed by someone with ADHD.
What were you up to in Mexico?
I learned how to open a beer using a bill.
Jonathan is using a dress, Bridgitte. And he has breasts! What do you think he was up to in Mexico?
Now my name is Johanne.
Nonsense! You’re not getting the company. No way. 
That’s fine. I don’t even want it. 
Honey, it’s your future. You’re our only DAUGHTER. You have to take the position. 
You’ll get the company. End of story. 
You don’t even want me to own the company!
Because I didn’t think it’s what you wanted!
Why did we stop speaking French?
What did you say?
Nothing. I got confused.
I’ll tell you something: remember the Ratatouille? They gave us this letter. They challenged us to the national France competition to decide once and for all what’s better: baguettes or croissants. 
Do you want to enjoy your fortune? Win this competition and manage the company. Or go back to Mexico to eat guacamole.
For the last time, no! You won’t get the company. 
I’m the only one who’s always loved croissants.
I’m the oldest son. It’s my right. 
Your right? How can think that about your brothers?
Any of them could do a good job.
Hugo can’t get over his artistic phase and he’s addicted to sniffing paint thinner!
I’m not just sniffing paint thinner! Yellow paint makes me happy.
Mario Hugo! Good luck with his twangy voice.
Mario Hugo: I agree with my beloved brother, but I love you, my family. 
No one knows what you’re saying!
Dugo is young! Why can’t it be me?
Well, first of all, you don’t have a penis!
Oof. Gotcha.
I’m trans. Other than that, I haven’t changed at all. 
Does it really affect you that much?
I’ve made myself clear: anything that affects our family affects me!
It’s not that we don’t love you, honey, it’s just that… you embarrass us. 
You’re not even an Hugo!
Yes, I am! I’m [French accent] Arturo! (Translator’s note: the rhyme got lost in translation. Sorry about that). 
“Arturo” isn’t “Hugo”!
Yes, it is! Ar-tu-ro!
Where did you get that?
Well… Chofls!! The letter!
The Sacrebleu have invited us to the Great Paris Competition. We will show once and for all what food item best represents our country! If you beat that family’s stupid transexual, you’ll get the company
I don’t know what to do, bestie. I don’t want to own that goddamn company. 
And why don’t you learn how to do something?
Because if I do it, they’re gonna cut me off, and I’ll be an unemployed, 28-year-old trans woman who has no life skills. 
Why don’t you just tell your father that you don’t want to do it and that you won’t do it?
It’s too late. I have no choice. 
Bestie, I’m so sorry you can’t enjoy your fortune with no commitment.
It’s awful…
Good evening, ladies. What can I get you?
I’ll have some French molletes.
I’ll have chicken.
Of course, ma’am. How shall we cook it?
Anything is fine as long as you kill it as cruelly as possible. 
Excellent choice, ma’am.
Anything else? Would that be all?
That’ll be all. Well, actually, I think I also want-
You said that would be all! You must assume the consequences of your decisions. Rot in hell! [spits]
Oh my, what a great service!
I know! They have the best customer service in France! Okay, so are you signing up for the competition?
I really don’t have a choice…
Bestie, you can do anything. You’re stronger than every woman I know, and I’m not just saying this because you used to be a man…
Thanks for the clarification.
You’re gonna compete and you’re gonna win.
Emily, you have no idea how much that means to me. You’re the only reason I wanted to come to Paris. I wanted to see my friend Emily in Paris. It was the only reason I wanted to come tot this city: see Emily in Paris.
Oh là là, I know! Everyone tells me that! What I don’t get is why you don’t want to compete. This is such an honor for France-
It’s just that there’s a lot of things I don’t understand since I came back. Why are we so impolite? Why do we love animal cruelty? And why exactly do we hate Muslims? 
Because it’s fun!
Yeah, maybe, but have you ever considered that it’s wrong?
Oh my God! You’re right! I’d never thought about it! We’re awful!
Oui!
What we do to birds… we drown them in cognac! Why are we doing it? Who thought of that?
I don’t know.
I feel.. dirty! I want to take a shower!
I knew I wasn’t crazy!
Seriously… I never thought that we were doing something wrong. I always thought that people who get minimum wage liked how we treat them. No wonder they sent you to Mexico… You’re crazy.
I got sent to Mexico for being trans.
They sent you to Mexico because you’ve been hallucinating. You’re seeing Marie Antoinette.
I’m not hallucinating! It’s the actual ghost of Marie Antoinette.
Marie Antoinette: don’t listen to hear. She dresses like a Guatemalan. I’m as real as my tragic death. They should behead her for having such damaged hair.
There’s no point in knowing the truth about France. At the end of the day, I’m just an ordinary French millionaire with enough money to live for four days. There’s nothing I can do.
Marie Antoinette: [unintelligible] sleep paralysis at night.
If you win, all of France will listen to you.
Ladybug: Welcome to the most important competition of la France, where France’s most important families will make a very important decision.
Cat Noir: that’s right! We’re here to make a very important decision. What food best represents France: baguettes or croissants?
Our fellow citizens will know what we’re talking about, but for those dirty foreigners that only know how to use soap…
Wear perfume!
We’ll explain the rules.
There’s two events: whoever wins both will be victorious!
The first even will be a race! The first one to reach the Eiffel tower, touch it and say our catchphrase “we give up!” will be the winner!
Without further ado, we’re heading to the competition!
It’s the best race I’ve seen years!
The Ratatouille throw a croissant to the Sacreblue and almost slashes her throat. It’s cat-tastic!
But Johanne takes the lead with 400 rats, and she wins the race!
Rats! Meow!
Here she comes!
Vive la France!
Your love for croissants ends here. What an embarrassment!
Don’t feel bad, honey. I never really expected anything from you. 
Arturo, I’m not gonna lie…
Brother, defeat will only make you stronger.
What?
You’re a great man. You’ll make it. 
Can I have five French dollars to buy yellow paint? I want to paint. 
Later that night in some French dumpster
I’m just a trash man in Paris.
Another piece of trash in Paris.
But I’m also the greatest trash
I’m the trash man.
I’m such trash that I made a fortune using other cultures.
I’m such trash that I enjoy cancelling last minute
because I’m scared 
that they’ll see my tiny baguette.
I don’t have the guts to say that I fucked up.
I’m scared to know what people think of me
If I’m a good guy or just a bald bad guy
I’m such trash that it’s embarrassing.
I thought Karla Sofia was from Puebla.
I’m such trash that I wrote a musical about narcos.
“Penis to vagina, woman to man.”
What the fuck was that shit, bro?
I’m disgusting, don’t you see? 
I’m disgusting, don’t you see? 
Part 2: from hate to love
Why did you ask me to meet you here?
[sigh] I came to ask you to stop fighting over something as dumb as bread.
Baguettes are just bread, but croissants are France itself. It’s in our veins, in our wine, in the air we breathe!
Arturo, wait, don’t do it!
[coughing]
You can’t take a deep breath in France. Dumbass.
Whatever. You’re just saying this because you’ve been away for a long time. You’re nothing but a chimichanga lover. 
Cinco de Mayo!
How dare you!
Does it make you feel good to be a man hitting a woman?
Actually, yes. Now I get why we do it.
I’ve had enough! I can’t take it anymore! What’s wrong with France? Why do they like to hit women? Why do they like racism? Can’t you see that what we’re doing is wrong?
Actually, no. I had never thought about it. I never considered that… Oh my God… We’re monsters! What are we doing? We must put an end to this!
But how?
You’ll do it with me. With your amazing arguments, we’ll change France. 
Do you think it can be done? But how?
Oui, mademoiselle. If you let me win the second event, it’ll be a tie, and they’ll have to listen to us according to the French rules I hadn’t mentioned before. 
I don’t know if I can trust you.
Trust me, mademoiselle. Trust this stinky French heart.
Alright. Kiss me.
Do you want me to kiss you?
Yes. Give me a French kiss.
Here it’s just “a kiss”, stupid
Welcome to the second competition!
This is the most fabulous competition! It’s the racism competition!
That’s right, Cat Noir! And for those stupid Americans who don’t know what we’re talking about, in this competition, participants are given a total of 30 minutes to deport and catch as many immigrants as possible.
Everything is allowed: from making up crimes to blackmailing! 
Each Muslim is worth 5 points. However, participants can get extra points from hate crimes against Muslims, Black people, Latinos, members of the LGBT community, and fans of Emily in Paris!
Let’s watch the racism competition!
We apologize for the technical issues. Cat Noir had a fanatic episode. 
It was amazing! With a great lead, our winner, Arturo, was victorious. So we’ll have to call this a tie. 
Oh! For the first time in more than ten years, we’re getting some words from our ten French emperors!
Stop!
There… won’t be… a tie!
This decision will no longer be postponed. 
 Declaramos abierto el duelo final.
And it’ll happen right now.
Because I love Queen Marie Antoinette.
The final duel…
It’s the fight to the death with baguettes!
Good luck! And may the Frenchest win. Yes. Oui. Oui. Oui.
[Elmo]
Part 3: destiny
Fight to the death with baguettes?!
Fight to the death with baguettes?!
Fight to the death with baguettes?!
I think there’s gonna be a fight to the death with baguettes.
What? Fight to the death with baguettes? What’s that?
Oh, fight to the death with baguettes. I’ve heard about it. I think they’re gonna fight to the death… with baguettes.
[gasp]
Johanne: I don’t want to fight to the death with baguettes with you.
Arturo: Neither do I, but we have no choice.
J: Yes, there is. Haven’t they considered that this is wrong?
No!
Arturo: Papa Johns!
Papa Johns: I pitted your families against you with a little help from whom you love the most… your butlers. 
Arturo: Chofls!
Johanne: Wigles, why?
Wiggles: I’m sorry, madame. I need the money, and you haven’t given me raise in 25 years. 
Papa Johns: I’ll destroy you so the greatest French food gets recognition: French fries!
Johanne: You’re losing a lot of wine.
Johanne: you have a rat on your head!
Papa Johns: this tiny chef taught me his secrets, and I used them for evil. 
Wigles: I think I got Stockholm syndrome due to so many years of labor exploitation.
And that’s how we got away from the bad guy, Mr. French ambassador. 
Controlled by a rat… The nightmare of every French. Ladies and gentlemen, that’s how Johanne Sacreblue and Arturo Ratatouille restored the glory of France. What a captivating story you’ve brought us, full of pain and social commentary. Is there anything else you would like to add before we run out of funds?
Well, actually, yes. As many of you know, I went to Mexico, and my fellow Mexicans asked me to bring a gift to France when I came back, and what a better person to give it to than the ambassador? 
Oh, what wonderful surprise have you brought from Mexico? Could it be some wonderful Mexican tortillas?
Wait… Is that-
Yes, a cake. Un gâteau. 
[Credits]
And that’s the story of how your parents saved la France.
Thanks for telling me these stories, grandma.
My grand-son. My grand-son, a boy…
[sigh] 
Tito, my grandson Tito (translator’s note: another rhyme that got lost in translation. Sorry again). Tito, tito. My grandson Tito. 
You smell like frog legs in the morning.
You smell like you haven’t showered in weeks. 
You smell like a moldy baguette.
You smell like the omelette that I ate. 
You smell like cheese. Smelly, smelly!
You smell like your grandma.
Tito, Tito, Tito, my grandson Tito. 
You smell like snails. You smell like escargot.
You smell like France. 
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suiana · 2 months ago
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yandere! childhood friend who still reminisces about your childhood together. yeah, the two of you may be grown now but he's been your day 1 and he just can't help but think about how you used to cling to him and adore him so much! he wishes you'd still do that but it is what it is. no matter how much he wishes otherwise.
yandere! childhood friend who did everything with you. yeah, that also includes practicing kisses. he's your first kiss, and he's never gonna let you forget that. you said you wanted to get better and who is he to refuse? he can't pass up such a prime opportunity! and it's not like he wants anyone else to take it. god no. that would be a tragedy.
"yeah, remember our kissing practices? hah, we were such kids back then!" he watches as you snicker, feeling a warm flush creep up his spine. god, of course he remembers. young and immature as you both were, you both learned together. that's all that really matters to him. "thanks to you, i can now makeout with my partners with ease. you're the best man." and has he told you how muchit infuriates him that you're using your experience to get with others? to please them with the mouth that once touched his? nah, he really can't stand for it. but he isn't allowed to say anything. he's just a childhood friend after all. not for long though.
yandere! childhood friend who wishes he would've accepted your offer to learn how to fuck as well. but no, he just had to be way too delusional back then and tell you to wait for the right one. he must've thought that you'd feel the same and confess then he'd court you slowly before getting to that stage... that never happened unfortunately. not yet at least. he'll make it happen.
yandere! childhood friend who's still a hopeless romantic at heart. a delusional one but a romantic nonetheless. he brings you out on "platonic dates" or whatever the fuck you like to call it, comfort you after your shitty excuse of a partner dumps you, and treats you like the deity that you are. you only deserve the best and he'll be there to provide. none of these losers can't treat you well. he can. he really hopes it'll help you see him as a potential boyfriend!
"i just," you blow your nose, tears streaming down your cheeks as your childhood friend rubs at your back tenderly. "don't know why he'd want to dumo me! we've been going strong for a year already! it's so out of the blue!" yeah, out of the blue huh... not really out of the blue for someone who's been actively theeatening that poor excuse of a man. that menas him, obviously. why he's been threatening him, you ask? because he's not treating you the way you should be treated, duh! sure you look happy but are you really? probably not, he's sure of it. "hey hey, don't worry... I'm here now, aren't i?" he always is, and he always will. you just need to understand that fact and you'll start seeing him in a different light too. don't worry, he has lots of patience. just... don't go sleeping with other people again.
yandere! childhood friend who may or may not be totally super duper mega in love with you. yeah, definitely not in love with you. that would be weird, right? come on, he's your childhood friend! sure you two might've kissed when you were kids and promised to marry one another but those were kiddy promises! that's all they are! he... totally doesn't believe you actually wanna marry him and be his forever and ever.
"so have you started thinking about your future?" he pauses at your question, rubbing at his empty ring finger. future, huh? funny how you ask that when you two are destined to be together at the end of it all. i mean, the two of your promised it as kids, didn't you? sure you're exploring now but at the end if the day, it's him that you come back to, don't you? even if just as a friend. but that's the present, not the future. "nah, not really. just wanna focus on the current moment, y'know?" bullshit, and he knows it. but he doesn't wanna scare you away. not yet at least. you're still out lookign for others which means you haven't come round to the idea of you two together. not to worry, he'll give you a little more time to see how good he is. how good things could be between you two if you just gave him the chance. "i mean, you're here with me." he chuckles, taking your hand in his before placing it on his cheek. you're warm. he likes your warmth, it's so soothing. "that's more than enough for me." half lidded eyes gaze at you, full of emotion and hidden longing before he hums softly. the teo fo you sit in the park in silence, enjoying each other's presence. in the moonlight, everything seems to slow and engulf the two of you in a quiet embrace. he only wishes you would just love him back already. "yeah, I'm glad to be by your side too, best friend." ...he really hates those words. don't worry, good things come to those who wait. and you will be his in due time. you've already had his heart, now all he needs is yours.
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yieldtotemptation · 5 months ago
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ANIMALS ft. Natty
natty x male reader smut
10k words
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“All I’m saying is,” Natty starts, like she always does, with more unsolicited advice than you can handle at 2 AM, "for someone that complains so much about not having a sex life, you really don’t do much to fix it."
“And what, oh wise friend of mine, is your recommendation.”
“I don’t know. Get a haircut. Dress better. Try not being a massive pussy?” Natty shrugs. Or at least you think she does. Only so much you can tell over the phone.
You sigh. Bite back the urge to tell her to fuck off. But then, who else would talk you to sleep at this ungodly hour? So instead, you concede the point. “Noted.”
“Or, you know, if it’ll stop you from being such a little bitch,” and now she’s laughing, cackling really, and not once has that ever, ever meant anything good. "You could always just fuck me."
Two weeks and twelve hours post-Natty’s incredibly unhelpful suggestion that did absolutely nothing to alleviate you of your insomnia, and you’re back on the phone with her.
Only this time, there's video.
So, yay.
"Help me, please."
It’s a Friday and Natty's begging, again.
Because she knows she can count on you, knows that you’ve long since resigned yourself to your fate as Natty’s on-call ‘fixer’. There for everything from life-changing career decisions to helping her figure out what show to stream next.
And now, apparently, choosing her outfit for tonight.
“Help me, help me, help me, help me.”
God, this woman and her begging. Knowing full well that it’s your kryptonite.
"Okay, okay, okay," you're relenting, much earlier than usual. Mostly because as far as Natty’s petulant requests usually go this one’s a walk in the park. “But don’t you have people for this sort of thing? People who don’t, and I quote, ‘have a dogshit taste in style?’”
“It is dogshit!” Natty calls out, already turned around and leaving you (her phone) on the vanity, facing out to her bedroom and all its hideous pinkness. She disappears from the screen, diving deep into her closet for yet another pair of shorts that will most certainly hug way too close, or a top that dips way too low, or a pair of heels that scream—'hey, I have legs, would you like to spread them?' "But!"
Natty returns to the camera with a leather belt—oh no, that's a leather skirt—in hand; clad in nothing but a casual cotton bra/underwear combination that she’s filling out far too well for your sleep-deprived brain to handle.
She holds up the skirt against her waist for your consideration. Poses. It wouldn't cover a thing. Or maybe that's the point—again, you don't have any fashion sense, whatsoever.
“You’re a man, and I need a man’s opinion because I’m hoping to take one home tonight to fuck my brains out until I forget about this shit-storm of a week. So, you know—help a girl out?”
“As always, you have quite a way with words.”
Natty leans towards the camera, bending down to stare right at you. It makes entirely too much sense that she’s built an entire career around doing just this.
“It’s my third language, asshole.”
The insult lands softer than she likely intended, considering well, you’re a little too distracted to take it. It’s entirely her fault. The angle makes her tits look far too immaculate to pay any attention to her mouth.
Maybe she should consider going out just like this?
Yeah, that’d definitely get her fucked.
But, she frowns before you can make the suggestion, turning on her heels and sashaying back to her closet, leaving you to choke on air at the sight of her ass stretching out her favourite pair of panties. (The white pair with the pretty-pink bows. The one that rides up her ass when she stretches, bends, sneezes—basically any time she’s not standing perfectly still. And even then.)
Anyone else and this whole thing would be weird. Well, weirder than it already is.
See, you and Natty have this thing; this odd, cat and dog relationship that’s been going on since what feels like the dawn of time:
You’ve watched her shamelessly cycle through men faster than a teenager through a box of tissues, leaving a trail of broken hearts and broken cocks in her wake.
While she’s been forced to witness every time you’ve met ‘the one’, only to be there months later to help pick up the pieces when you’re burying your feelings in video games and alcohol and porn, wondering how it all went so wrong.
All this to say that seeing Natty bouncing around in her underwear with that laser-beam of a smile of hers; with all of her soft curves, thick thighs, her ridiculous ass and again, those immaculate fucking tits isn't that unusual.
In fact, it doesn't really do anything for you at all.
(Fucking liar.)
“Here, how about this.” Natty appears from the corner of the screen, having found a top that’s somehow made of even less material than the bra she’s already got on. The gall of her to ask, "Too much or not enough?"
You deadpan. “Does it come in adult sizes too?”
Natty grins, because she can read it right on your stupid face. She looks so, unbearably hot. Without even trying that hard. This bitch. “So just right, then.”
And then she twirls, leaving you to face her back, and before you even have time to blink, Natty’s bra has fallen down her shoulders; and you’re hating how you lean in to look because this damn app has no zoom feature to save your sorry eyesight.
Her fucking tits. Perfect, bouncy. Even through the pixels, even from behind, you can still see the way they spill.
She slips on her chosen top for the evening—a tiny, strappy number—and spins back around to face you in all her Natty glory. By the skin of your teeth, you’re looking away and leaning back, feigning nonchalance and leaving her none the wiser.
You think.
“You know,” Natty says, tilting to one side, hand on hip. Fuck, even that slightest movement makes them bounce. Utterly, utterly obscene. “You should just come tonight.”
You’re saying, “Fuck no,” before she’s even finished her sentence. ‘Coming tonight’ means ‘clubbing’, and ‘clubbing’ means being stuck listening to the shittiest music, surrounded by the worst people in all of Korea, drinking overpriced slop and watching Natty turn down a revolving door of douchebags on the dancefloor.
So, yeah.
If ‘fuck no’s’ were bricks, you’d be building the Great Wall of ‘Fuck No’, big enough for aliens on the other side of the galaxy to see with a fucking telescope and have their first contact with the human race be a giant ‘Fuck No’.
And that’s your polite way of turning her down.
Yet somehow, Natty’s hardly deterred.
“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Natty sing-songs, shuffling on her tiptoes, shifting her weight from foot to foot, making her entire body jiggle. It’s like she’s intentionally trying to sell you on the idea with every little movement. Make you believe that if you came with her, you’d be able to find someone who comes close to looking half as good as she does in that… whatever-the-fuck that is. Bralette? Crop top? Whatever. Fat chance. "Come on, come, come, come. Be my wingman please!"
You already have your second ‘fuck no’ queued up, but Natty just won’t stop fucking talking.
“Don’t you want to get laid? Don’t you think you need to have fun after what’s-her-name?” Natty continues, pouting at you through the screen.
And there it is, a study in how Natty usually gets her way—jutting out her bottom lip, digging her thumb into the waistband of her panties to expose just a smidge more skin, leaning just right to make her tits look like they’re about to pop out. It’s like she’s got a fucking manual.  
“Don’t tell me you’d rather stay at home with Handalf the Grey than come out with me and all my hot friends?”
“You mean having to clean up after all your ‘hot friends’ and their bullshit while you run off to score free drinks?” You retort, recalling all the other times when she managed to entice you out of your self-imposed isolation and into the deafening, sweaty hellhole known as a nightclub.
“Said hot friends that you’re too much of a pussy to hit on, mind you,” Natty chides, and then oh-so-casually decides to drop this nugget: "They all like you, you know, they'd be more than happy to break this dry spell of yours if you just asked. Don’t act like I haven’t seen the way you look at Julie."
You can feel your cheeks reddening. You’re not a teenager. You shouldn’t blush at this shit. But here you are, falling for Natty’s words and their magical abilities to needle at your insecurities and fill your head with thoughts of her friends and all their... well, incredibly positive attributes.
Natty pounces on your lapse in composure and gets closer to the camera, crouches. Drops down so she’s on her heels and all you can see in that tiny window of your phone is the red of her plush, plump lips.
“Come, you pussy—”
“Natty—”
“Do it pussy—”
“Natty, if you think that’s going to work—”
“Pussy, pussy, pussy—”
You’re yelling down the phone: “Fuck, fine!”
Natty’s victory dance is already in full swing before the words have even left your mouth. Bouncing around her room in pure joy at once again having ruined your evening. Dancing in that barely-there outfit, treating you to entirely sinful ripples across her curves and dips, pure sex on a pair of toned legs. Really makes you wonder how the fuck is she not illegal in at least fifty different countries.  
You hide your face in your hands, because there it is, the reason you’ve never really been able to deny her:
Her laughter, her energy, her fucking shameless glee whenever she manages to get her way (which, if you’re keeping count, is every single time).
She’s just so frustratingly adorable.
Somewhere in her celebrations, Natty finds exactly what she was looking for. Reaches down to the floor, picking up a belt—no, that’s another skirt—this one even tinier than the first.
“Oh, this is perfect,” she preens, holding it out to the camera (to you), before stepping right into it. She spins around, making it dance around her hips. It does wonders for her thighs. "How do I look?”
You swallow. “Like you’re going to get fucked tonight.”
The glint in Natty’s eyes. Like you’ve just served up the finest compliment on a silver platter. You feel sorry for whatever poor soul crosses her path tonight.
Natty winks. “Here’s to hoping.”
Guess what?
Turns out you were right: this is the worst place in the world.
Only, you’re the sole person here that seems to think that.
Hours have passed since you helped Natty look perfectly fuckable and you’re at the bar, trying and failing to get the attention of the bartender. Unfortunately, he, like every other male with a beating heart and a boner seems far more interested in Natty’s little dance routine than his thirsty clientele.
You can’t blame him, really. It’s built in how she moves.
Strobe lights cutting through the air like knives, slicing her into this series of absolutely pornographic snapshots as she dances. And she’s not alone, she has friends—beautiful, all of them, in their own ways. They spin and twirl around her; but Natty’s the sun here, the star that everything orbits.
(You included).
You see it play out—the Natty effect. Men, even women alike gravitate to her, drawn by that magnetic force that is Natty at her very best. Trying to get a dance, maybe whisper a line they stole from some movie in her ear, even dare to reach out to touch or press themselves up against her.
But she’s a black hole, a dark star. Can’t get too close.
One by one, they’re swallowed up by the void of Natty’s disinterest. The shoulders slump, the smiles falter, and the hope in their eyes dies as Natty, with a simple flick of her wrist sends them stumbling back into the crowd, forgotten almost immediately.
And the whole time she’s doing this, she’s got you in her line of sight. A wink here, a smile there, a dance on its own; and all you can do is nod and pretend like you’re okay with all this.
You inhale. Deeply.
Her outfit looks even tinier in person.
You turn away for just a moment, shaking off thoughts of Natty, of her hips and their sway and her winks and her smile; attempting (and failing) to flag down the bartender once more.
This fucking night.
But, when you look back, Natty’s no longer on the dancefloor.
She’s standing next to you. Arms looping around your neck.
“Natty—”
But she’s not listening. Her eyes are darting around the room, searching for something—or someone—that you can’t see. Your stomach clenches, because that look on Natty’s face? That’s not her usual I’m-about-to-make-some-poor-soul-my-bitch look. That’s something else entirely. That’s fear.
“Shut up, I need a favour,” she’s in your ear, yelling over the thrum of the bass that’s rattling your ribcage.
You lean in, bend down to meet her, because, frankly, you’re worried. You’ve never seen Natty like this, wide eyed and shaky. Never seen her be anything but comfortable.
You’ve also never been this close to her. Felt her breath hot against your neck, felt her body press up against you, felt her softness, felt her—
Fuck, you should be asking her what’s wrong, but before you can even do that, the bartender's filling two shot glasses and sliding them over to Natty.
She takes one. You take the other. It tastes lethal.
Natty’s nails dig into the back of your neck, and she looks at you, intense. Words fast and frantic. “Just pretend we’re together, okay? For a bit. Until I can figure this out. Just—just keep playing along, yeah?”
You blink. The room blurs around you. You think you might’ve misheard. “What?”
“Be my boyfriend,” she says, taking a second shot before you can even digest the first. “I need you. There’s some creep and I need you. Now, please?”
You turn immediately, scanning the floor, but the lights and shadows make it near impossible to make out anything other than vague shapes and strobes of colour, let alone pinpoint a face. "Natty, where is he, I can—"
"No, no, no," she cuts you off with a shake of her head. “Focus on me.”
“Wait, why do I have to—”
“Oh, shit there he is—”
And then she’s kissing you.
Ending whatever argument you may have had, because she’s grabbing, pulling you in, and her lips are on yours and oh fuck, she’s really, really kissing you.
It’s a slap to the face, and you need to reel in from the sting. Because you’re already forgetting what you’re doing, forgetting how your limbs work, because Natty’s putting on the performance of a lifetime and you’re having trouble keeping up.
Her hands are in your hair, yours at the small of her back, and she’s pulling you close, squishing against you and the taste of her—sweet like candy and sharp like vodka—filling you all the way up.
Your tongue catches up, flicking against hers, licking inside of her mouth and she’s even convincing you—as if she’s the one that’s always been into the love at first sight bullshit and you’re the non-believer.
And it’s a problem, how right this feels. Because this isn’t what friends do—definitely not Natty and you. But still, you can feel her tension, her need for this to be believable; and you don’t dare to fuck it all up.
So you kiss her back, because that’s what you do for Natty.
You always do what she needs.
You’re about to pull away; this should be enough to have every single person here convinced that you’re hers and she’s yours. But Natty’s already sliding her tongue back in your mouth, pleading, “Keep going,” the moment a gap opens between your lips; and you’re diving back into the kiss without a second thought.
And then you hear it.
A flash of a camera.
A cheer.
A whistle.
Julie, Haneul, Belle—Natty’s friends, staring at you like proud fairy godmothers witnessing their own magic at work.
You break the kiss. You look down at Natty.
She giggles.
You feel like a fucking idiot.
"There is no creep, is there?"
Natty shrugs, looks up at you, and she actually looks—what is this? Shy? Embarrassed?
"There could’ve been," she says, her eyes wide and innocent, a mask. You see through her like you should have when she first wrapped her arms around your neck.  Oh sure, like she’s ever been innocent for a second in her entire life.
She’s far too smug for that.
You roll your eyes. You feel like every other idiot that’s ever fallen for a bat of her lashes and a peek at her tits. Hope is a hell of a drug, especially when Natty’s the dealer. And yet, despite yourself, the corner of your mouth quirks up. "You're fucking insane."
“Maybe.” There’s a long pause. She’s staring at your mouth. She presses a finger to your sternum. “But I had to do something.”
It takes a second. What?
What does that mean?
You stare at Natty, lick your lips. Her taste still lingers.
“Ask yourself the same question I’ve been asking myself for months now,” she says, louder this time, her voice cutting through the noise of the club and hitting your ears with a sobering clarity.
You know what she’s going to say—what she’s going to ask before she’s even opened her mouth. You’ve been asking yourself the same thing too.
So, swallow hard, try to ignore the way Natty’s friends have gone quiet. Try to ignore Natty’s hand still resting against your chest, her eyes burning a hole right through you.
“Why haven’t we had sex yet?”
The blood’s rushing to your cheeks; the music's too loud, the lights too bright, and the room's suddenly spinning around you like a carousel.
Fucking embarrassing.
But Natty doesn’t crack a smile. She just looks up at you. Hopeful. Searching you, searching your eyes for an actual answer; and you already know what it is.
“Because, Natty, we’re friends.” You offer up a weak smile, hoping against hope that she’ll buy it.
But she shakes her head. “Oh, please. Like that’s ever stopped anyone before. Besides, if you want to put a label on it, call it whatever the fuck you want. I just know what I need. Do you?”
You sigh. She gets closer. And closer.
Until your nose is brushing hers. Until her breath is hot on your face, until your heart is racing so fast you can feel it in your ears. Until her hand is sliding down, down, down, until it’s resting over your pants and oh, oh no, you’re straining.
You gasp. She smirks.
“See? You want it too. And I know you do, because, sweetie, your cock’s practically begging me to pull it out and shove it between my tits right here in front of everyone.”
She just throws it out there, so casually, so bluntly, she might as well be talking about the weather. And maybe, maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just Natty being Natty, but fuck you can’t do anything but stay frozen still.
You’re letting her hand linger. You’re letting her touch you like she’s got every right in the world. You’re letting her because there’s a part of you—the part that’s growing by the second—that wants to see just how far she’ll take this.
“So, what is the real reason, ba-by?”
Because you’re in love with her. You’re in love with her, and you can’t just have casual sex with someone you’re in love with because it will ruin you.
But you don’t say that. Instead, you just tell her: “Timing.”
That makes her laugh. Has her closing what little gap remained between your bodies, until her tits are flush against your chest, and you’re coming to the conclusion that, yes, you did help her pick out the perfect outfit for tonight.
Perfectly, hopelessly, fuckable.
“Well,” she says, and she’s pulling you back down again and shutting you up with yet another kiss. “We’ve got all the time in the world now, don’t we?”
You’ve been here before.
Many, many times before.
You installed the showerhead and fixed all the cabinets yourself. Even secured the lock that you’re now unlocking with the digits that you coded.
But somehow, it feels like a first.
First time you’ve kissed her in the back of a car, pushed your hand up her skirt, felt the heat of her against your fingertips. First time you’ve pinned her against the wall of an elevator, made her feel just how desperate you were for her against her thigh, made her promise to be so good for you when you got to her door.
First time being pulled through the threshold, hands at your chest, tearing your shirt off you before you’ve even stepped foot in her apartment. Had her smiling against your mouth, because she’s won, again, and you can’t even bother to argue because you’ve lost to her so many times now that this shouldn’t be so surprising.
What is surprising though is how you’re naked first.
"Terrible, terrible taste." Natty's clicking her tongue as your shoes, your shirt, your pants are scattered along the floor behind you. “We’ll have to fix that.”
And then she’s moving on, hands clawing down your stomach to land at the waistband of your underwear, hooking her thumbs in and yanking down. You’re so obviously hard—you’ve barely made any effort to hide it from her—fuck, you pretty much flagged down the taxi with it.
"Holy fuck," is the first thing out of Natty's mouth when she takes a hold of you, feeling the naked weight of you in her palm. "You’re really not messing around, are you? I was expecting—"
"A sad, lonely little thing," you finish for her, because you've heard it before. "Yeah, you like to mention it a lot."
But Natty’s not laughing now.
She’s just staring. Almost reverently. She decides, her voice a little raspy, tinted with an apprehension that you never knew she was capable of mustering, "I like it. It's... massive."
You lean in, pressing your mouth against hers because if she’s going to say that, you’re going to kiss her, again and again, and there’s a strong possibility you're never going to stop.
She whimpers, gasps into your mouth, says your name for the first time—not some nickname, not a jab or an insult. Just your name, in your ears, like it’s something sacred.
You’re not a saint. You can’t ignore that.
Your cock jumps in her hand, and as if on instinct, she strokes you.
It's slow, purposeful. She's too good at this. Knows the right pressure, where to twist and wind her wrist. How to sweep her thumb over the tip, smear pre-cum over your skin, and this entire time she's staring down at your cock like she's discovered something new.
“This is going to ruin me, isn't it?” she whispers, and you nod, because your voice is lodged in your throat and she’s stealing the air from your lungs. “Going to fit so fucking nicely inside me. Fuck it’s going to stretch me.”
You groan, collapse your weight into Natty, press your lips against the column of her throat.
Both hands now, one underneath, toying with your balls, balancing them in her fingers, and the other doing its best to squeeze, to pump, to make you fall for her with every stroke.
“I can’t wait to ride this,” Natty kisses these words into your cheek, your jaw, leaves these marks all over your collarbone. “I wonder if I can fit it down my throat. God, can you imagine what it’ll look like between my tits?”
And that makes your cock throb.
Because face it, Natty has always had a way of getting into your head; is far too dangerous with her words, and she’s all too willing to abuse this power she has over you to get you do what she wants, which is now, apparently, fucking her senseless.
You let her, let her build and build this pressure, let it coil inside you, tighter and tighter. Until the need to feel her, all of her, is too much to handle.
Until you grab her, take her by the shoulders, push her—not hard, but firmly—against the nearest wall.
You’re not gentle about it, because Natty doesn’t want gentle. She wants rough, she wants passionate, she wants to be fucked and have her cunt worshipped by way of complete ruin.
She’s told you as much.
"That's more like it," Natty bites into your ear, grips your shoulders. She follows your eyes. "Let me guess, my tits?"
So, maybe she has caught you looking once or twice. Either way, you don’t care much for her top anymore, it’s served its purpose. You take a fistful of it and pull, ripping it right off her and tossing it to the floor with everything else that’s kept the two of you from tearing each other apart.
“Better?” Natty poses for you, puts her tits on display—and yeah, you were right all along. Fucking immaculate.
You take a hold of one, palm it; fill your hand with flesh, twinge those dark, plump nipples, because of course you’re going to. You’re going to pinch and squeeze and suck on them. You’re going to mark her like she’s already done to you. Mark them, with your teeth, with your tongue. Fuck, you’re going to make them yours.
But for now, you're just going to slap them, because you want to watch them jiggle up close.
You laugh. Natty does too.
"Much better."
And with that, you’re back on her. Kisses that are sloppy, wet, and filled with all the pent-up want that's been simmering for months. You don’t even know where to begin with Natty, but you start with her mouth. It’s a good place. It’s always a good place with Natty.
Her hand doesn’t stop moving, can’t, won’t. The friction is heaven; you just let her touch you, fuck her hand while you indulge in her tits. Get to know the weight of them, the balance, the softness.
A sigh into your ear as your tongue finally finds her breasts, deep and messy, sliding over her nipple—she’s already so sensitive, just a flick and she’s gasping. You’re not even trying to be precise anymore, not that Natty needs it, not that she needs anything but for you to enjoy yourself against her.
It all makes the room seem smaller, the walls close, surrounding you with the scent—cinnamon and sweat and something else that’s just her.
“See this is why fucking me is such a great idea,” she slurs against your shoulder, hand tightening, stroking you harder, faster.
You mumble an affirmative into her breast. It’s a miracle you can still stand upright.
“Isn’t this so much better than like everything else? Anyone else?” She sighs, breathy, sweet sounds, as she takes you by the wrist, guides your hand southwards.
Fingertips graze her stomach, trace around her belly button and lower; until you’re digging into her skirt and feeling the heat rise off her skin. She’s soaked right through her panties, dripping with it. Another place for your tongue to land.
“We can just be fucking honest with each other,” Natty’s explaining, eyes tearing when your finger pads her clit, pressing down just right. “You already told me all the things you hate. All the things your bitch exes never let you do.” And she smiles, wicked. “Never had the tits to give you.”
Christ.
“And I can get you to fuck me exactly how I want with this big, fucking cock,” Natty finishes. "We’re a perfect fucking match."
It’s at that moment you find the zipper of her skirt, tugging it down, watching it fall to the feet. Leaving Natty to step out of the tiny scrap of fabric she calls her panties; abandoning the sticky mess of cotton.
You take a step back, unlatch your lips from her tits, because you need to see it. Need to finally see her, see your Natty, see the Natty you've never allowed yourself to look at.
So, take your time, drink her in—because the way she’s standing there, the way she’s touching herself now; biting her lip, sighing your name. All but saying, ‘Look all you want, but don’t you dare look away’.
Look at the arch of her neck, the red you’ve left there, that trail you’ve burned down to her tits. Bruised and swollen from your tongue, your kisses, and yet still not marked enough. Follow the curve of her hips; how they flare out from her waist, the plush squish of her ass cheeks against the wall behind her.
You want to kiss her, from the tips of her toes to the top of head; all of her, every part of her, because now she’s going to finally let you.
Because now you're going to fuck her until all she knows is you, going to make her scream your name, going to make her beg for you to fill her with your cock and cum and never ever leave her cunt empty again.
That’s the plan, anyway.
But Natty’s got plans of her own.
“Didn’t you say,” Natty begins, sighing, circling her cunt in a rhythm that you’re dying to recreate. She licks her lips. “That your last ex refused to suck that lovely, magnificent cock of yours?
"Yeah," you stammer, at a loss for breath at just the sight of it all. “And weren’t you trying to find someone to fuck your brains out?”
Natty’s eyes light up; and there's that easy, charming grin that knocks you right off your feet. "You’ve always been such a good listener."
Natty's plotting to ruin you.
It's the only possible explanation for the way she's looking at you right now—on her knees, at the foot of her bed, flanked by walls painted an ugly shade of pastel pink and Natty's tits, sandwiching your cock.
You’d imagined it, thought about it when you shouldn’t have been thinking about it. Whenever she brought you to watch her perform, whenever she sent you pictures of her outfit of the day. But your eyes always went there. Straight to Natty’s tits, every time.
You knew they were big.
You’ve felt them, on accident (though they don’t seem like accidents anymore).
But now, to have them enveloping your cock, drowning your shaft in their softness, and to have her, staring at your face with so much fucking excitement as she gives you everything you’ve ever wanted—it’s surreal.
You’re dying to paint them white.
“Looks like you’re already about to fall apart, baby,” she teases, and it’s even worse now that she’s calling you these sweet names, saying them like she’s always wanted to, like she’s finally letting herself. “Couldn’t wait, could you?”
“Fuck, Natty—” you breathe out, your hands finding her hair, tightening, because that’s all you can manage to do when Natty’s in control. Like she’s always been.
“Mmhmm,” she hums, keeping her eyes on you, making sure you’re watching, making sure you see the exact moment her tongue flicks out to taste you. A slow, taunting lick to make you buck your hips, desperate to feel the suction of her lips. “You must have been dreaming about this, huh?”
You don’t bother lying. She already knows the answer. “Every. Fucking. Night.”
Natty’s smile spreads across her face, and she rewards you with a kiss, pressing her lips down onto the head of your cock; before sliding them lower, eyes fluttering shut with the first taste of you. “Well, what took you so long? All you needed to do was show me your cock and I’d have been happy to do it whenever you want me to. Happy for you to use my tits as your cum rag. You know that, right?”
She moves; and the sight of it alone—Natty’s tits wrapped around your cock, bobbing up and down, hypnotising you with the flicker of her nipples—up and down, up and down. It’s merciless, unrelenting, and she keeps talking, keeps kissing these sweet little words into your cock that makes your hips jerk, trying to fuck her tits faster, harder.
"Look at how perfect you look," Natty keeps going, "how your cock fits so snug."
The sounds she’s tearing from your throat as her tits take you, and she’s barely even started.
“But we can do better, can’t we?”
Her pace picks up, and with it, the tightness of your grip on her hair. She’s pushing the ample mounds together, squeezing, putting her whole body into it, into this new art she’s pioneering. Driving you insane with just her breasts, making you swell between them, throbbing as she works you over.
“So big," she’s panting from just the effort, the bounce, bounce, bounce of it all, "I can feel you getting so much bigger."
Everything’s going too fast, her tits are too soft, her lips on you too hot, and she’s drooling, her spit dripping down onto your cock. You want to tell her to stop, that you can’t take it, but Natty just keeps going.
"Fuck,” Natty mewls, pinching her own nipples, for you, for her. Pinching and rolling them, making them nice and stiff and swollen. “Let me just try and—”
She cranes her head, bends; takes your cock deeper into the warm, wet heat of her mouth. Her tongue darts out licks your cock, gets that sweet spot on the underside, makes you shake underneath her.
Natty holds you there, even as you groan, even as your hips rise; just licks, spits, sucks. Her mouth moving up and down on you, making a mess down your shaft, down her tits. Taking you deeper, deeper, until you’re fucking her face.
She moans around you as your hips buck and you push deep, desperate for it. Her eyes water, her cheeks hollow, and she’s got you. You’re in her mouth and she’s loving it. Loving the power she has over you, loving giving you what she wants, loving how you’re pulling her by the hair, desperate to feed her more of your cock into her throat.
Like your entire relationship has been building up to this moment—to Natty’s tits wrapped around you, her mouth all over you, her eyes on yours, watching as you fuck her face.
"Fuck, Natty," you grunt, your voice barely recognisable. "What the fuck—"
But Natty's just smiling, you’re fucking that smug little smile on her lips, and she’s taunting you. "Come on baby, keep going, keep going."
It’s utterly obscene—the smack of her lips around your cock, her slobbering all over you, her gagging, her moaning around you, looking up at you and asking, “Is that all you’ve got?”
You're so close, so fucking close, and she knows it. Moving her tits faster, faster, and you're about to blow your load all over Natty's pretty face, her chest.
But she keeps talking.
Even as you stuff her cheeks, even as you muffle her, “None of those other skinny bitches could do this, could they, could handle this big, fat cock?”
Even as you force her down, pull her by the hair, “You’ve been so obsessed with my body, so obsessed with my tits, haven’t you?”
Even as her tits slide off you and your cock smacks her across her cheek, “I always saw the way you looked at them, fuck I was showing them off for you, you just took too fucking long to notice.”
She won't stop fucking talking.
You finally snap. "God, are you ever going to stop?"
But Natty just laughs, bats her lashes. Slides her tongue from your base to your tip. "Maybe you should find something to gag me with."
Your hand wraps around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her eyes go wide, to make her mouth pop open. She rolls out her tongue for you, and you know what she expects you to do, what she expects you to fill her mouth with.
But you don’t—instead, you fill it with your kiss.
It's deep, it’s bruising, it’s saying ‘fuck you’ in the sweetest way possible, without uttering a single syllable. Natty laughs against your mouth, a ‘fuck you’ right back with her teeth, biting down on your lower lip. Not breaking skin—not yet—but the promise is there.
Her hand leaves your cock to wrap around your neck, pulling you closer to her, her mouth eager for yours, and you don’t even think twice before you hoist her up, her legs wrapping around your waist. Giggling again—another sound that’s going to be your undoing—before you’re both stumbling back onto her bed.
The mattress dips under the weight of your bodies falling back into it. Natty straddles you, presses her cunt down onto your thighs. So wet you can feel it on your thigh, leaving your skin sticky and stained with her. Your hands move to her hips, dragging her closer, so you can feel the friction grinding against your cock, making you ache.
She breaks your kiss, gasping for air. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide—seeing her pant like this, it’s not even fair. She’s just so fucking beautiful, like a painting you’re afraid to touch because you might smudge it.
You tell her as much.
She blinks. Blushes.
Grins.
“You,” Natty breathes, her hand trailing down your chest, finding your heartbeat, resting there for a beat, two, “are so fucking in love with me.”
You don’t argue because she’s right.
Her hand slides up your arms, nails dig in and she’s got your wrists, pinning them over your head. You let her. Let her grind herself against your cock, feel the warm, wet heat of her cunt against the tip.
Taking her sweet time, melting herself into you. Pressing her tits into your chest, making you feel her heart race against yours.
She whispers. Low, reverent. “God, I’ve waited so fucking long for this.”
You can’t even form a coherent thought, so you just grunt.
“I’ve dreamt about this so much,” she continues, breathless words sending shivers down your spine. “Your cock, fuck, it’s just as perfect as I imagined. And now, it’s all mine.”
And then she does it—she sinks down onto you, slow and sweet, her pussy taking you in inch by glorious inch. You groan into her shoulder, your eyes shut as Natty’s tight heat surrounds you. Like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Sure there’s been others but something about Natty’s cunt is so intense it’s almost painful.
“So tight,” you grit out, the words torn from your chest like they’re made of glass. She just laughs, low, sultry, and starts to move.
It’s a dance, a rhythm that’s been building between the two of you for what feels like an eternity. She’s rocking her hips back and forth in this torturous grind. Fucking you like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do, like she needs to make the most of it. Like you’re going to vanish into thin air the second she lets you go.
“I knew you’d feel this good,” Natty sighs into your neck, already surrendering to your cock. “Fuck, I knew it—why did you keep this from me?”
You can’t answer, not really.
You’re too lost in the feel of her, too consumed by the way she’s moving on top of you. Every inch of her body is pressed against yours, and she’s so warm, so alive, that you can’t think of anything but how Natty’s finally letting you in. How she’s letting you make her whole.
But it’s too much. Natty’s cunt, tight and wet, fucking you so slow it’s a fucking crime. Pinning you down, a butterfly on a board spread out, displayed, unable to do anything but take her sweet, sweet punishment. And she’s whispering it in your ear, grinding down, rolling her hips, “Fuck you. Fuck you for keeping this from me,” with every stroke.
She’s doing it on purpose, you’re sure of it. Driving you crazy, making you beg, making you want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life. Your hips jerk up to meet her, trying to speed things up, to get that friction you need, but Natty just pushes down on your shoulders, keeping you in place.
So you tell her, "This is fucking torture."
Natty just smirks, her hips never stilling. "Is it?" she asks, as if this all isn’t intentional. Like she doesn’t have some grand plan to ensure you never forget the things her cunt can do to you. "Do something about it then."
So, you do.
It takes more effort than you’ll ever admit, but you break her grip on your wrists, grab her hips, and flip her over, sending her sprawling onto the bed, face down.
The squeal from her. It’s music.
How her eyes go wide when you treat her like a ragdoll, how her tits juggle and bounce, smacking the mattress. And when you push down into her, slamming your hips into her ass, how she arches back into you, her back bowing like a fucking violin.
“Yes!” She cries, fucking cheers into the mattress, like she’s been waiting for this—for you to have had enough of her shit and take her without asking. “Yes, yes, yes—”
You hover over her, throb inside her. "Is this what you fucking wanted?"
Natty sighs into the bedsheets, urging her hips against you, begging without words, begging for you to do more.
“You want it rough, baby?”
“Yeah,” Natty says, pushing back against you again, nodding immediately. “If you can.”
Still with the provocations, unable to resist pressing at your buttons.
You grab her hair, yank it back so she’s staring at you, force her to look at you. And you fuck her hard. Fuck her like you’ve wanted to since the first time she walked into your life and decided to make it all about her.
You fill her with deep, long strokes, fill the room with the smacks of your hips colliding against her, of your cock thrusting into her cunt again and again.
She claws at the sheets, trying to find purchase, trying to push back against you. But you’re too strong, too desperate.
You pound into her, impale her with your cock, watch her face twist in pleasure, in pain. You’re fucking her like you’re trying to break her, like she asked. Trying to solve her—how hard can she take it, how deep, how fast.
But Natty won’t give you an answer, she just takes it all—every inch, ever pump into her sopping wet cunt. Just grins and takes every bit of your need, your frustration. A bottomless pit of pleasure, begging for more with every whine, every little noise she makes that’s not quite a scream but is so close that it rattles your brain.
And when you finally let go of her hair, Natty’s licking her lips, and without even a care for what it does to you, she coaxes, “You can do better.”
You don’t know how she can talk right now, how she can even think with your cock so deep inside her, but something about the way she says it makes you want to test the limits of her ability to stay coherent.
But first, there’s the problem of her ass.
“Let’s see about that,” you murmur, dragging your hand down her spine, feeling the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips, and coming to a stop at her perfectly rounded ass. It’s a masterpiece, a work of art, and you’ve always had a bit of an artist’s soul.
You do what comes naturally.
A spank against Natty’s ass. Hard, hard enough to make her yelp.
Again—another slap, another yelp, louder, better.
You keep fucking her, keep spanking her, keep watching red bloom across her cheeks and Natty squirm underneath you. The whines get louder, her cunt gets wetter, but it’s still not enough to dull that smug look on her face.
“Fuck yes,” Natty gasps, raises her ass, presenting it to you like a trophy for you to claim. “I always knew you had it in you.”
You grab her hips harder, your knuckles white, your hand a blur as it connects with her ass. It’s so explicit, the sound of it in the quiet of Natty’s apartment—each spank echoing through the room like a gunshot.
But Natty just takes it, her body jolting with each hit, her cunt tensing and tightening around you.
“God, don’t fucking stop,” Natty sputters, tears of pained pleasure leaking from the corners of her eyes. “You’re using me so good.”
You lean down, kissing hard against her neck, branding her shoulder. You want her to feel you, to remember you. To not be able to ever feel remotely good again without first thinking of you.
"It's your fucking fault, Natty," you growl into her ear. "You drive me mad."
And she laughs, the sound vibrating through her body and going straight to your cock. "Good," she answers, "Good. Be mad. Be angry."
But you’re beyond that now, beyond the point of no return. All that you know is Natty’s cunt, Natty’s ass, Natty’s moans, and Natty’s grin that you’re aching to wipe off her face.
"Fucking hate me if you want," she’s saying, and she can’t seem to stop, "just don’t stop fucking—ah!”
You nearly stop when you realise you’ve finally done it. Finally left Natty out of breath, lost for words. A fucking miracle, really—the kind that makes you feel like a fucking god.
It doesn’t stop her cunt clenching around you, tight as a vice, because even now, Natty’s got some kind of death grip pussy, and she’s using it to fucking kill you.
You whisper in her ear, “You like that?”
Her only response is a breathy, needy little whine, so you spank her again.
And again.
Her cunt tightens. She’s close, so close. You can feel it.
“You like it when I use you, Natty?”
She nods, her eyes screwed shut, her mouth crying into the mattress, a mess of hair and sweat and utter bliss.
“Say it,” you demand, slapping her ass once more, watching as the pain ripples through her. “Say it.”
And Natty does, because she’s a good little whore, because she’s yours now. “Yes, yes, I like it when you use me, when you fuck me like this, when it’s only about you, your cock, your needs, your pleasure—”
God, it feels good to hear her say it, but you still want more than just words. You want her to fucking scream it.
You make the bed shake, knock the headboard against her wall, it’s a competition of what’s going to break first—the frame or her.
“This cunt. Your cunt. I’m going to use it. Fuck it whenever I want.”
But Natty catches you off guard, because that’s what Natty does best. She opens her eyes, looks right into yours, and suddenly she has her voice again: “Whenever I want. You’re going to fucking move in with me.”
You freeze. Your hand mid-spank. Your cock mid-thrust. It throws you entirely off, because, what the fuck?
"You're going to be my boyfriend now," Natty says, wrenching back control, fucking her ass back into you. Stating not asking, leaving no room for argument. "Move in with me, your place sucks anyway."
"You're out of your fucking mind," you start to protest, but she cuts you off with another squeeze of her cunt around you, and now she’s the one fucking you, her hips rolling back and forth in this maddening, sinful way that has you biting down on your tongue to keep from shouting.
"Move in and just fuck me every day," she says, all light and airy, like it’s already been decided, like moments ago you didn’t have her dead to rights. "Morning to night. It would be so fucking nice."
This is real, you know that for sure. It’s not just something she’s saying to get off, not another way to get under your skin. You know it in her voice, she’s deadly serious and suddenly your mind’s racing.
"Come on," Natty purrs, punctuating each word with a slap of her ass against your waist, "You know you want it, why fucking wait?"
She’s not wrong. It makes too much fucking sense to deny. And yet, part of you still can't believe it. That Natty, the girl who's had countless men at her feet, could have any man at her feet, actually wants you. That Natty is underneath you now, eyes glossed over with need, mouth swollen from your kisses, ass cheeks flushed crimson from your palm.
"I'll take such good care of you, baby," she says, unaware that she’s already completely won, unaware that her cunt already has you bending to her will. "Every day, every night.”
You can't help but nod. You're too consumed in her to do anything else. You just let go of everything. The fears, the doubt, the fucking logic.
And Natty says it, the three words that seal your fate—"I'll love you," she cries out, "I'll fucking love you forever if you just keep giving me this fucking cock."
It's like the world stops, like everything you've ever wanted is right there in front of you, wrapped up in Natty's tight fucking body.
You're so close, so fucking close, that you can almost taste it—the sweet release of your orgasm; giving in to Natty’s unbelievably sensational cunt sleeving your cock, pulsing with each thrust, desperate to milk you dry.
There’s nothing left to do but give Natty wants. Fuck her, hammer into her so hard that you’re going to fuck a Natty-shaped hole into the mattress, fucking shatter her bedframe, and then keep drilling her straight through the floor.
And she’s crying out your name, forgetting about everything that isn’t you, isn’t your cock, isn’t the dream of your cum filling her to the brim and spilling out of her cunt every single day for the rest of your fucking lives.
“Are you close, baby? Are you going to cum for me? Please, give it to me, I need it so bad, I need it now, because I'm about to, about to, about to—"
And then it happens.
Fucking destroys her.
It hits. A crescendo that peaks as you bottom out inside her, shaking her to the core. Her cunt spasms about you, her body rises off the bed as if you’re performing a fucking exorcism, and she screams your name so loud it’s only a matter of time before the neighbours come banging on her door.
"Oh my fucking god you—"
Natty gushes around your cock, juices running down your shaft, your balls, and she’s squirting. Oh god, she’s squirting all over the fucking place.
Natty’s body goes rigid, her back arching so much it’s like she’s trying to fold in half, crying, sputtering these words that don't even make sense—until you realise she's speaking an entirely different fucking language.
Not that it matters, because you can tell what she's saying, read it in her body, in the way she's spurting and making a big fucking mess beneath your bodies. Whatever she’s saying sounds utterly depraved, filthy and so, so good to your ears.
It keeps going and going, until she has enough sense to speak your language again, needing to make sure you hear it when she says—"fucking fill me, baby," she whimpers. "Give me everything, all your fucking cum."
And it’s your turn to be hit—like a fucking freight train.
You're cumming, hard and fast and out of fucking nowhere. Your balls tighten, your cock throbs, and you’re flooding Natty’s cunt.
It’s biological, in every cell of your body—like your entire being is coming undone, and the only thing holding you together is Natty, Natty, Natty.
Her body shaking beneath you, her cunt contracting around your cock as wave after wave of cum fills her up.
She’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect, that you can feel every pulse of your orgasm, every drop of your cum spurting into her. You're not sure how long it lasts, how much you give her, but it’s enough to make your muscles shake, enough to knock the architecture right out of your limbs.
"So fucking good, so fucking good," Natty coos. "Fucking finally, finally filling me up so good."
Her moans a lullaby, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body with every syllable. You lean down, burying your face in the crook of her neck, your every inhale and exhale ragged as you try to catch your breath. Still twitching inside her, still releasing the last of your cum, and Natty’s just lying there, her body limp, her eyes closed, basking in it all.
"So perfect," she keeps repeating, right up until the very end, “So, so, perfect.”
You collapse on top of her, just lie there shivering together, your face next to hers. She’s got this look on her face, a victorious glow, and you just have to accept it. Yeah, she’s won again, in devastatingly convincing fashion.
For a second, you’re both just that—spent, exhausted, entirely drained. Like you’ve just run a marathon. Or been in a fight. Or both.
Then Natty’s got the nerve to stir, to kiss your cheek with the tenderness of a whisper. Lips softer than you thought possible, given how hard she’s just been fucking you. And that’s it, the moment your body decides it’s had enough of playing dead, enough of lying there like a sack of potatoes.
You roll over, bringing Natty with you, her body curling into yours like she’s been made to fit there. Her head rests on your chest, her legs entwined with yours, and for a moment, you just hold her close.
It feels fucking right.
"Tomorrow," Natty sighs contentedly, her cheek finding home atop your heartbeat.
You blink. "Tomorrow?"
"Yeah, you're moving in tomorrow." Natty’s deciding for you already, setting the dynamic for the rest of your future. Doing all this with her eyes still shut as she snuggles closer to you. "I'll hire the movers."
You sigh, the weight of the world and Natty's body both feeling surprisingly light. You think about the next few days, the weeks, the years even, with Natty. The idea is so ludicrous, so absurd, that it feels like a fever dream.
But as you hold her, feel her warmth, her unabashed, blatant satisfaction, something inside you shifts. A reframing of the concept of Natty that you hold in your head. The thought of her naked body in your bed, her laughter in your living room, her mess in your kitchen—it doesn’t feel like an intrusion, it feels like home.
"Are you sure?" you ask. A little shaky, a little hopeful.
Natty opens one eye to look at you, a laugh playing on her lips. "Oh, you know I'm going to be the worst fucking roommate ever."
"Yeah, I can see that. But as long as you keep being the best fucking everything else..." Your words trail off into a whisper, your hand tracing idle patterns on her back.
And then she says it again.
"You’re so fucking in love with me."
Natty kisses you hard, deep, her tongue sliding against yours. And you know, you fucking know, that she's right. You are desperately, entirely, so fucking in love with her, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
You laugh, the sound a little desperate, a little wild, and roll her again, pin her down again. A strange feeling rushes through your mind. Like you’re going to be repeating this exact same motion for the next hundred years. And somehow, that doesn’t sound like the worst thought in the world.
Natty squeals, cheers, moans when you settle between her legs.
"Fuck you, Natty."
"Oh, baby," Natty giggles, reaching down between your legs, squeezing you. Once. Twice. Until you're filling her hand once more. "That's what I'm here for."
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hxzbinwrites · 1 year ago
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Hi! I just saw that requests are open, yeah!! I'd like to request an Alastor x fem!Reader where Vox has a crush on her so he sends her a set of different tea flavor as a gift. The problem is that these contain a drug that inhibits the person (thanks, Valentino). Basically, his plan was to wait for her to drink the tea and then show up at the hotel and seduce her so he could have her for himself (my boy thinks she loves him, lol). The problem is that she had graciously offered the tea to Alastor, who drinks it. Vox asks her if she enjoyed the tea she lies saying it was delicious so he immediately shows up at the hotel but ends up finding Alastor who is being super affectionate with her, revealing his true feelings for her. Eventually Alastor attacks Vox as soon as he sees him forcing the other to flee. Fluff and comedy, basically. xD
Alastor x Fem! Reader x Vox | Tea Time Troubles
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Warnings ⚠️:  Cussing, drugs, controlling and manipulative Vox, out of character Alastor.
"I dunno 'bout this Voxxy" Valentino said, handing him a baggie of the drug, a weak aphrodisiac lining the walls of the bag.
"Don't worry about me Valentino, I'll be fine" Vox reassured him, holding the bag up to his screened face. He smirked deviously as he put his hands behind his back.
"But you tell me all the time 'bout 'public image' and all that shit." Valentino retorted, crossing his lower arms against his stomach.
"Don't you worry your pretty little face about it Honey" Vox sneered, rubbing his cheek in a falsely affectionate way. "Vox is a big boy and can handle himself. I just gotta put this into some tea bags. (Y/n) WILL be MINE."
"Ugh" The moth groaned, taking a puff of his cigar,"She's not even worth it. She hangs out with radio, fossil trash. If she was good shed know who to choose. Besides, I'm better than she is, right?"
"You're wrong." Vox said, his left eye radiating hypnotizing waves out of anger,"(Y/n) is perfect. She's everything, and she will be mine."
Vox's demonic laughter could be heard across the building, sending chills down anyone who heard it's spine.
--------
"Honey!!" (Y/n) exclaimed, holding up the box of tea that arrived at their house,"Your tea shipment came!"
Alastor, who was reading the paper at the kitchen table, looked over to see his dear (Y/n) carrying two large cardboard boxes.
He teleported over, making his shadows place them atop of the counter. His keen eyes narrowed at the second box, seemingly almost identical to the first one.
"How peculiar!" Alastor said, tapping his cane on the second box, almost poking it as if it was a foreign object.
"What's peculiar about it?" The fellow deer demon asked, peering over at the box her partner was so intrigued by.
"I did not order two shipments of tea from the catalogue this month!" He replied, his smile tightening in irritation. Could someone be trying to plant something in this hotel? Trying to hurt any of his friends, his beloved, or him?
"Maybe it's a promo box?" (Y/n) suggested,"I mean, you are a loyal customer of theirs. Maybe they want you to try a new product, I hear that's the new rage."
"Ah" Alastor replied, walking closer to the counter to rip open the second box to be met with a letter and a large box of tea.
"Thank you for your loyalty Mr. Alastor. We're reaching out to our most loyal customers to give this Promo box to! We're asking that you try our newest flavor, a (your favorite flavor) but with a twist! Despite the erratic sounds at night in Hell, this tea should help you fall right asleep! If you enjoy it, please promote so on your beloved Radio Show!"
"I was right!" The doe said, looking up at her partner,"They must've given it to you because they know you're famous and can promote their tea! Very smart people, I wanna try one tomorrow!"
"Tomorrow? Why not today my doe?" Alastor said, looking down at his partner.
"My stomach isn't feeling the best. Charlie's cake wasn't fully cooked through, but I didn't want to be rude and not eat it. Especially because no one else was!"
Alastor chuckled, petting her sensitive ears. "Now now (Y/n), you should've listened to me! I know all!"
"Al..." She said, batting her eyes up at him,"Do you mind trying it for me? I wanna know if it's good, but I don't want to throw up in my sleep!"
"Why should I?" He inquired, smirking down at (Y/n). "It seems like this predicament could've been easily avoided my little doe! Hahaha!"
"Please" She softly asked, smiling at him back.
"I suppose I can try one cup of it." He said, sitting down at the table, fully expecting (Y/n) to make him the cup as he finished reading his paper.
She giggled at him and began to start the kettle. Moments like these can't be replaced, a docile and homey moment between the two of them. (Y/n) loved seeing this side of him. The Alastor side of him, not the Radio Demon.
(Y/n) opened the smaller box that was enclosed in the large one, picking out the first tea bag. She smelled the bag, the fumes of blended herbs wafting in her nostrils. It smelled lovely, she would've to drink one alongside Alastor.
But she held back on picking up another bag, knowing its sleeping effects. (Y/n) really didn't want to throw up while in her sleep, and potentially on Alastor, who would be as knocked out as her.
Sighing, she finished preparing the tea, pouring it in Alastor's favorite teacups, the one (Y/n) gifted him on their second anniversary many years ago.
She walked back over to him, placing the teacup on his saucer, putting the sugar cube in as well.
"Thank you dearest" Alastor said, his eyes skimming over the newspaper,"I shall be in our room in a moment, why don't you go ahead and get in your nightwear?"
"Alrighty" (Y/n) replied, patting the back of Alastor's chair. That was something the two of them did, (Y/n) knew when to touch Alastor and when to not. Still wanting to show him affection, she'll pat an object close to him.
Alastor gave her a soft smile before returning his focus to the newspaper.
The doe walked up the stairs in the hotel to their shared room. She got in her fluffy pajamas, completed each and every step to her skincare routine, and crawled into bed with a book.
The silence was only broken by the occasional turn of a page, this was (Y/n)‘s daily quiet time, as Alastor liked to read the paper before turning in for the night.
This normally is for about an hour, but tonight it was a mere 30 minutes as the door busted open.
The doe yelped, her skittish nature causing her to flinch at the sudden jolt of noise. Her partner flittered into the room before crawling on top of her, his eyes droopy from the affect.
“Hi sugar” He said, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His ears were pressed against his head as he affectionately nuzzled (Y/n). Alastor grabbed her waist and flipped her on top of him, allowing him to bring her closer to his body, her chest atop of his.
“Al-Alastor?!” (Y/n) exclaimed, tensing up. What has gotten into him!? He’s not one to ever make such…bold advances.
“Oh my love” He said, a dreamy lilt in his voice,”you’re just perfection incarnate. Such a lovely little fawn you are.”
Blushing heavily, she let him rest himself on her, snuggling contently. It was rather peaceful, she did not know where this sudden chance of behavior came from, but it certainly wasn’t the worst by far.
(Y/n)’s ears perked up hearing a notification sound ding from her phone. She slowly grabbed it to check what it was.
Alastor was not very keen on allowing this sort of technology in the house, especially knowing Vox is over all of it. So they made a compromise, he’d take out the camera and microphone and she could have the phone.
Seeing it was a message from Vox, she opened it.
Vox: “Hey sweetheart, I pulled a few strings and got a shipment of some new tea of (your favorite flavor) that was being tested. How did you like it baby?”
(Y/n): Oh, it was good, thanks!
Vox: Just good? You sure sweet stuff? Wasn’t it so good you could just kiss the lips off of the person who got it for you?
(Y/n) sighed, shutting her phone off and curling up with her lover.
“I think that’s a yes!” Vox said, throwing his hands in the air ceremoniously. He quickly put on his best bow tie, in hopes it would get taken off by fingers other than his, and made his way towards the Hazbin Hotel.
————
Vox searched through each room until he found the one you and Alastor shared.
He scowled at the door, seeing a heart with the initials scribed on it “(Y/i) + A”
Pathetic. He could give you so much more than that. He could give you the most advanced technological sign known to mankind just for some silly initials, not some shitty hard with nearly illegible handwriting.
He opened the door, his signature smirk dropping as he saw Alastor, his arch nemesis (in Vox’s eyes) peppering small little kisses all over (Y/n)‘s face, making her giggle.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Vox yelled, his face was blue-screening.
Alastor took one look at the fellow Overlord and let out a long string of laughter, sitting up as he pulled (Y/n) into his lap.
“Vox?! What are you doing here?!”
“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE TO DRINK THE TEA!! AND THEN YOU’D BE MINE!!”
Alastor hooked a arm around (Y/n)‘s waist, looking at his opponent across the room.
“This is my doe, my love, and we all know if she would’ve drank the tea, she would’ve always chosen me.”
Lets just say, the power around the Pride Ring went out after that comment.
————
Word Count 1,524
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tthoroughfare · 3 months ago
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trying to make your ex jealous by using ellie as a prop in your ig story hahahaha
she's been in front of your mirror for, like, ten minutes as you direct her on how to stand, how to put her arms around you. you laugh as you cycle through the pictures you'd gotten, ellie looking over your shoulder.
"ellie, these suck. you look so fucking awkward." none of them actually look like you're with a romantic prospect; it's painfully obvious it's set up, ellie craning her neck to hide her face and looking like she's petrified to touch you. you swipe onto a particular picture, zooming in on her hand. "also, in that one you can literally see your tattoo, you gotta pull your sleeve down more."
she automatically tugs at the sleeve of her hoodie, covering the ink swirling down from her wrist. "damn... yes ma'am. didn't realize it was that serious."
"well, otherwise she's gonna know it's you. and that'd be so fucking embarrassing."
she scoffs lightly. "kind of embarrassing faking photos to try and make someone jealous, anyway."
"oh, please. shut up," you retort, rolling your eyes. she'd seemed to be a little grumpy about the whole thing as soon as you asked her to do it:
"this is stupid."
"why does it have to be me? get dina to do it, she'd love this shit."
"you're so cringe."
you get back into position, gesturing at ellie. "m'kay, come back."
she shuffles closer again, hesitantly going to place her hands on your waist.
"this is why they look stupid, your hand placement's wrong." you gently grasp at her wrist, manually moving her right hand upwards and to the side, wrapping her arm further around you and allowing her fingers to rest just below your left breast. "like, you don't look like you wanna fuck me, you're just... standing there like you're at gunpoint."
"yeah, i am," she murmurs, looking down and gingerly pressing herself flush against your back. you ignore the comment, taking the back of her head and pulling it so that her chin's resting on your shoulder.
"don't worry if your face is in it, i'm probably just gonna crop it anyway," you comment as you snap another few photos, placing your hand over hers. she tries not to pay any mind to the way you subconsciously swipe your thumb across the back of her hand, the way it makes her stomach flutter.
you pivot your phone so she can see it whilst you flip through the new photos you'd taken. you're still running your fingertips over her hand, and she doesn't think you even realize you're doing it. "see, these ones are way better. they look way more realistic."
you go to take some more, and ellie hesitantly leans further in, nuzzling at your neck.
"wait, that's good," you begin. "pull your hood up, so i don't have to crop it."
blowing air out of her nose, she does as you say before returning her hand to its original position. she feels a little emboldened, borderline forgetting the whole thing is pretend as she presses a couple of tiny kisses to your neck; stopping when she feels you tense.
you pause before laughing shakily, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "method acting. nice."
ellie awkwardly laughs along, kicking herself mentally. she doesn't even know why she did it, where she mustered the balls. it was automatic.
you take a final couple, then pull away and sit cross-legged on your bed. she tugs her hood down, running a hand through her hair as she sits next to you, peering down at your phone while you flick through all of the photos.
"i think that one," you say when you stop on a particular image, pressing your thumb to the screen in emphasis. "it's hot, and you can't really tell it's you."
ellie pulls a face as she nods. "go for it."
your brow furrows as you notice her expression. "... what's with you?"
she shrugs, mouth downturning. "i don't know, i just think it's kinda stupid. why do you even want her back? she was, like... a dick to you."
"i don't want her back," you reply. "i just want her to see it and be like... 'oh, shit'."
"but, like, still... why are you even thinking about her?"
you sigh lightly, looking down at your phone. "i don't know... she fucked me over a lot, and now she's trying to act like she's doing all great and everything. just wanna give her something to feel... y'know, a little shitty over."
"fair enough," she replies half-heartedly. "i just don't even think you should care. you can do better."
you scoff. "well, it's not exactly happening for me."
she doesn't say anything back, just looks at you and shrugs, toying with her sleeve. there's a slightly uncomfortable feeling in the room as you meet her gaze, one you don't understand.
"so can i post it, or no?"
ellie's hands turn upwards in gesture. "sure."
"right," you respond, opening instagram and getting the picture up to put on your story, flicking through songs and deciding which one to add to it. she moves closer, watching as you do so.
"gotta be clairo," she remarks, to which you chuckle.
you post the photo, and resist the urge to check if your ex has viewed it every five minutes. ellie puts a silly movie on, and you actually manage to forget about it as you make commentary between yourselves, laughing along.
until your phone buzzes; dina's reacted '😂' to your story, and sent you a reply:
"that's ellie 😭😭😭😭😭 you fucking idiot"
you sit up as you open the messages, covering your mouth and scoffing. turning your phone so that ellie can see, you watch her eyes glimmer in amusement as she lets out a laugh.
"i'm taking it down," you say firmly, between giggles.
ellie raises her eyebrows, training her eyes back on the TV. "told you."
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gayasswitchbitch · 3 months ago
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One Piece- Do they get jealous?
Synopsis: One piece headcannons! Do they get jealous when someone tries to flirt with you?
Ft: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Robin, Nami, Ace, and Law
Tw: none (I THINK) just insecure and jealous thoughts.
Luffy- He wouldn’t understand someone flirting in the first place. I think Nami would have to point out that another person is flirting with you, but even then he doesn’t get it. He would something along the lines of :
“There’s no way someone is flirting with y/n because they’re my partner! Geez.. you guys are dumb!”
He genuinely can’t fathom that someone would try to get with you when he is already with you!
Zoro- I don’t think so. He’s a very confident man and has a decent sized ego. He knows what he’s got. Hes not insecure enough to be jealous over someone liking you.
That being said, I don’t believe he’d just let someone flirt with you though. 100% ready to fight ESPECIALLY if someone puts their hands on you in any way. He’d tell them to back off because you’re taken maybe even a:
“Yeah my partner is really beautiful/handsome aren’t they?” with a smirk and an arm wrapped around your shoulder just to piss them off.
It’s his way of showing you off and making it known that he’s willing to throw down if needed, but he would most likely make another shitty comment and then leave with you in hand.
If they keep persisting though, then he’s going to get pissed off but he def tries to keep it cool before it gets to a fight breaking out.
Sanji- GOD YES. SO JEALOUS. Don’t even let mosshead BREATHE near you! Any time you give another person, specifically another man, attention he LOSES IT.
“Do you hate me, my love? Am I not good enough for you? Tell me what I can do better. I’ll do anything for you just please spare me a passing glance again! What could they give you that I can’t? I’d walk to the ends of the earth for you. I’d starve if it meant you could eat. My love please tell me you still love me!”
When all that happened was you were asking Usopp to help you with some gadget and it took too long in Sanji time. (Which was probably an hour)
He would def try to compete with anyone that did flirt. It was a fierce battle and there was no way he’s losing.
“Did you know that my y/n-swan loves the rain? You can always find her by a tree, blissfully meditating. They love it because it makes them feel like all their stress is being washed away. You can see it fall right off their shoulders. Did you also know that their favorite color is (whatever) ? You can always catch a twinkle in their eye anytime they see it. They have exactly 7 outfits in that color. Did you also know that they like to collect trinkets? They pick one up at every single place we stop the sunny at. Yeah I took it upon myself to be the one to find the trinkets now. Did you know that? Did you also know-“ and he wouldn’t stop.
I could even see him taking it as far as to tell them that they’re not good enough for and could never be good enough for you, then would immediately turn around and seek validation from you to make sure you love him and only him.
Robin- She doesn’t get jealous, she gets possessive. Babygirl has had everyone she loves taken from her so she’s making damn sure you’re not going away and that means you are by her side 24/7.
Most of the time no one even dares to think about flirting with you due to how scary she can be.
She’s a very observant woman. If someone liked you she would instantly spot it and give death stares.
If they still tried to approach you, she would be crossing her arms to take them out, smiling the entire time.
Nami- I think it would only happen if she genuinely thought someone was prettier than her and they were around you alot.
She would get sad and seek reassurance by trying to push your buttons. If that doesnt make her feel better then she would walk up to you and turn at glare at the person before wrapping her arms around your neck to pull you into a deep kiss. After she’s swirling around and giving a “Hmph.” And walking away.
Most of the time she knows she got it. If you wanna be stupid and cheat then it’s on you when she burns down all your belongings.
Ace- This man is already insecure as fuck and your ass is out here being fine as hell. It’s stressful because he knows you’re fine and he knows that other people know you’re fine. He’s like a damn guard dog that doesn’t stop barking. He finds ways to constantly bring you up and it’s a front to make sure everyone knows you’re taken.
“What was that? Oh yeah my partner is really smart! I’m so proud of you babe!”
“Man look at my partner. They’re so strong!”
If he sees someone flirting he gets an instant wave of anxiety. What if you finally realize there’s other people better suited for you out there? What if you finally see that he’s nothing special and that you should move on? What if you see that he’s really not as handsome as you think he is? And what if you think this person is more handsome/pretty? What if they’re funnier? What if he never gets to be the one to put a smile on your face again? Then it’s breakdown time. This happens at least twice a month. He will go on about how he doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve to be here, doesn’t deserve so much goodness when his blood is so corrupt.
Just remind that baby that you’re with him because you love him, you do think he’s the most handsome and it’s insane that he doesn’t see it, that he’s the only person that can make you laugh so hard and so on and he’s good for another month. This only lasts for maybe the first year or so. The more you reassure him, the more confident he gets in your love and starts realizing he is worth of it.
Sabo- Like Robin, he’s more possessive. He will politely laugh along with any onlookers while you’re around and thank them for complimenting you, but as soon as you’re not in the room it’s near death threats.
“Look, I understand y/n is very beautiful/handsome.. but you try and flirt with them again and it’ll be the last thing you ever do”
He says it so calmly, eyes so wide, that it’s actually terrifying.
I could also see him being much more calm about it and making some obscure lie to make them go away like telling them you have a contagious disease and then forcefully coughing until they run away. He’d walk back to the base laughing his ass off too.
Law- I wouldnt say he gets jealous.. he gets irritated. He knows when someone is flirting with you and as long as they don’t take it to physical touching he won’t do anything. He trusts you and knows where you two stand but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t cause burning pain in his chest.
Bepo may point out what’s happening and he’s like:
“I’m aware. If they needed help they would say.” But it’s honestly taking all his strength not to strangle the person.
Sachi and Penguin might stir the pot and ask their captain what he would do if you were enjoying it, which was an awful idea. Now he’s slammed a hand on the table and clenching his jaw.
“They don’t.” He says through gritted teeth.
“But-“
One word. The one ‘but’ was all it took for Law to jump out of his seat, rush over to you and grab your hand into his roughly.
“Come on. We’re leaving.”
If you tried to hesitate he’d whip his head around and give you a stare. One you know that if you disobey you’ll be scrubbing the deck for the next week. So he’s taking you back to the ship and throwing you against his office door in a heated kiss.
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snoopyearss · 1 year ago
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When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’
Feat. crybaby-ish!reader
Gojo, geto, toji
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Cw: hurt, guilt, angsty
This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.
But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary
Anyway, enjoy!
Satoru Gojo
He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.
Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.
“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?
“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.
Suguru Geto
It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.
You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.
He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”
“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”
“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.
Toji Fushiguro
Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.
He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.
“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.
“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”
“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.
“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”
“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.
“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.
“Fuck.”
Part 2
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