#thank you for asking this it was such a thoughtful question!!

[thebestsetter]

Sae's nutritionist has been having a hard time ever since the athlete started a family with you.

Sae has always followed his diets strictly. Never ate chocolate, avoided sugar the best he could and mainly ate only fruits and vegetables. His behavior was always praised by all his nutritionists because of how easy it was working with him.

Sae started to "disobey" his diet when he moved in with you.

It all started when you began to cook him lunch for after morning practice. You knew he had to follow a strict diet, so you never made something too unhealthy. Sometimes, you even sneaked some sweet treats for him, but it was too little to do any harm, so his doctor just pretended not to notice it.

But this?? This was too much.

"Sae-kun" he said, pointing at the pink princess pot on Sae's hands "W-what is this?"

"My daughter packed my lunch today" Sae smiled softly, just like he always did when talking about you or your daughter. The doctor would've thought the whole ordeal was cute, if not for what was inside the pot: a box orange juice you buy on those vending machines (it's orange color was almost radioactive. God knows how much sugar there is in it), a (very) poorly made pink cupcake, with rainbow sprinkles all over it; and scrambled eggs (thank God at least one healthy thing).

"You can't possibly be thinking about eating this" his doctor deadpanned, but quickly added "T-the cupcake and the juice, I mean. The eggs are fine"

Sae's smile instantly fell, and he stared at the nutritionist with a frown

"What's wrong with my daughter's food?" It wasn't a question. Sae was daring the doctor to say something bad about the cupcake his sweet, lovely daughter made, staring at him with a cold and almost dangerous gaze.

The poor doctor should've stopped there. He really should have. But if he let Sae eat this Chernobyl looking cupcake, he might as well just throw his nutrition degree on the nearest trash can.

"It's not good for your health" the nutritionist said, staring at the Cinderella that was painted on the top of the pot "As an athlete, you know it's important to lose old eating habits. You can't eat this."

Sae stared at the doctor for what felt like centuries, but finally looked at the cupcake and carefully picked it up, holding it in his hands like it was the most valuable thing he ever held.

The way his gaze softened just by looking at that sorry excuse of a pantry almost scared the doctor. One second, he was looking at him with what could only be described as pure hatred. The other, he was looking at an ugly cupcake like it was a masterpiece.

Anyways, Sae's doctor was just glad this was over with. Itoshi obviously was going to throw the cupcake away, eat the eggs, and just order something else to compliment his lunch. It would all be okay.

Or so he thought .

"You know" Sae started, peeling the paper that was carefully wrapped around the sweet treat "It's interesting that you talk about losing"

"Why?" The doctor asked, not really liking Sae's voice

Sae stared at the man for a while, then slowly looked at the cupcake and brought it up to his mouth. Just as he was about to take a bite out of it, he stopped and stared at the man again

"Cause you just lost your job"

"What?"

"You're not deaf" Sae said "You're fired. Grab your stuff and get out of my sight"

"You can't do that!" The doctor screamed at him, which only made Sae roll his eyes

"I can and I did. Out. Now."

The nutritionist knew it was useless arguing with the stoic Sae Itoshi. With a sigh, he turned away from the player to go and collect his belongings

"Just one more thing before you go"

He heard Sae say, which urged him to turn around. The moment he laid his eyes on Itoshi, the footballer took a bite out of the pink cupcake

"This is fucking delicious."

The doctor would NEVER eat a cupcake in his life again.

Masterlist

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 || 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ when you declined to play Ddakji with a man, the least you expected was him stalking you, even less expected when you oblige him to lick your bleeding wound after seeing him kill a man and escaping him.

warnings_ MDNI, age gap (not specified but legal) reader is a foreigner (implied American but not specified again), stalking, blood play, dom!salesman, switch!reader, toxic till the end, sexual innuendos, manipulation, questionable morals, do not romanticize this irl pls, NO PROOFREAD YET

notes_ I’ll just drop this fic and leave it there bc why am i feeling so horny for an Asian sociopath? me la estoy pasando bien raro (i like it)

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 this man

✰ Index (+ fics here)

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Everything was irritating. The class you had was canceled last minute, the crowd at the train station was loud, the tapping of a kid in a window was constant, and the message you received asking for your campus ID to keep using your student account was sudden and required immediate action. Your cramps and migraine only aggravate everything.

You were steps away from the stairs when you stopped to take the damn picture of your ID and be done with that. But of course, you couldn’t find your wallet at first glance, so you moved aside to take a better look.

You worried about kneeling and ruining your black coat with the dirtiness of the floor at the station, but at the same time, you thought it was just stupid.

A trail of curses flooded your mind as you tried to find your wallet, making you oblivious to a random man walking in your direction.

“Excuse me, Miss… Would you like to play Ddakji?” Said the man asked you in Korean. You were occupied with a hand inside your thrifted designer tote, and your mind unconsciously prepared an answer in English.

“Sorry, I don’t have time” When you realized your mid-answer you sighed, just as you fished out your wallet. “For every win of yours, you’ll earn a great sum of cash”

Once you stood up, you met the face of the man who now answered in English as well. Very tall, handsome, innocent smile and in a suit; a businessman. You knew it was wrong to judge but there was something behind the smile he offered you that resulted eerie.

Like behind that seemingly blameless expression, the man was hiding his true intentions.

Might’ve been your eyes or hair that caught his attention. You weren’t native, and he didn’t want to think he could take advantage, yet his feet dragged him to you.

Placing your bag over your shoulder again, you grab your glasses and phone with tangled EarPods. You give the man one last look. You are not having a good day and you don’t have time to deal with this.

“What do you say?” He asks feigning kindness, eyeing you subtly without your knowledge.

“No, thank you. I don’t even know how the game works”

“You look like you are a natural. You might be surprised if you try. You just have to pick a color and try to flip the opposing tile”

The rich always trying to fuck the one who isn’t. This was just a new way. The urge to roll your eyes grew but you remained still.

“Look, I’m sorry. But I bet you do this just to see how desperate people who need money can go. I won’t be one of them. If not, sorry for misjudging you” you harshly say before putting on your EarPods and leaving the station. You leave him perplexed, huffing in disbelief and igniting a fire of curiosity inside him.

And you completely forgot about the Ddakji man as you made it to your little apartment, not knowing he would turn upside down your upcoming days.

…

Warm days in winter were exciting for you. They boosted your energy and made you want to be out all day.

You had the luck of living in a beautiful complex because it was once from a friend of your mother who married years ago and now had her single apartment for rent.

It had long warm hallways that hosted at least eight apartments by floor. With orange and pink subtle lights and uneven edges. It was truly a sight despite how little the apartments were. One bedroom with closet and bathroom, a tiny studio, small kitchen, enough space for a dining table, another small bathroom, and a half sized living room with balcony.

Your loneliness was well-balanced because you loved your home. But even on warm days, you wanted to be out.

Your red shoes contrasted with everything you stepped on. You carried a bag with a bunch of books and another one with thrifted clothes you bought.

At the park you always walked by, there was a fair amount of people as usual. You don’t care much to look around but someone makes you stare longer than needed.

The same man who asked if you wanted to play a game at the station was in the park. Another impeccable suit dressing him, looking attractive like the first time and already looking at you.

He offered you a smile, to which you didn’t reply. You looked at the ground, feeling like you had frozen.

What a weirdo, he offered bread and a random paper to a lonely man.

Simultaneously, you wondered if the man found you attractive enough to stare like that. With your mind that often became nihilistic, you thought you were delusional and that you should just keep walking.

His eyes remained glued to you. As his prey was thinking about what was better to choose, he contemplated you walking again.

The salesman realized he had made you nervous and that made him feel eager to end his job and follow you again.

Once he realized you lived in a good neighborhood, where his elegant suits matched the vibe, he got even more excited to see you again.

So now, was like it was meant to be.

How sweet, sophisticated, and innocent you looked.

Something shifted, as you passed by his side, only having a view of his back, you assumed he was worked out, his hair looked perfectly fine, and his big hands offered two things. Perhaps you had misjudged him and he really wanted to help. But your inner voice said otherwise. In a sudden change of events, you decided to look back once you were almost at the exit of the park.

With his deep gaze still set on you, your lips formed a smile.

And he took it as a first win in the games that had begun between you two.

…

Once again, you find yourself in the library. Inside one of the biggest malls you’ve been to, you are leaning at a counter, asking if they have an English translation of a book you were interested in.

Your Korean isn’t good enough yet, so as the nice librarian disappeared to find your request, you are working on your next reply, with a translation app.

“Do you recommend me this one?” your back arched as a startled reflex. You quickly stand straight and turn around to see the person you grew anxious to avoid and see again. The salesman is there, looking down at you with a perfectly orchestrated smile.

“Huh?” you ask disconcertingly, he shows you a book, his face looking like he had found a wounded little bird. But it was only you, startled and nervous by his strong presence.

The book is The Divine Comedy. Dante Alighieri.

“Certainly is a good one. A lot of heavenly justice…” you say trying to sound confident, looking at the cover of the book. Displaying the layers that separated heaven from hell. “Do you believe in heavenly justice?”

“I don’t know. We can’t call someone a sinner without a proper trial beforehand” he chuckles, which makes you frown for a second. He truly was unpredictable and you didn’t like that. “Ah, sinners. Always misjudged and harshly punished for being the ones who have the guts to make things…” his deep voice and tone made you wonder if he was self-perceived as a sinner, which made you feel worse.

“You sound like an ethnocentric…”

“I don’t think I’m far into that type of thinking, y/n” Your eyes almost popped out, leaving your hands in an anxious tremble.

“How is it possible that you know my name?” Before he can even answer, you add more. “You are stalking me”

His demonic smile makes your heart stop. The smile you once thought had innocence can’t blind you anymore. He isn’t innocent. He literally confirmed he was stalking you and you didn’t know how to feel.

“I don’t like the idea that conveys the word ‘stalking’. We can call it predestination…” you huff in disbelief. “What do you want with me?”

“I would like to get to know the woman who rejected my Ddakji offer. And ask for one more game” Your lips form a line, and quietly you are hating how much you are enjoying the conversation.

“Hmm, I’m bad at most games, so I’m afraid I will reject you once again” You turned back again to see if the librarian was coming when you felt him stepping closer, which made you feel nervous again.

“I might believe you. I always win…” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers through your spine and creating a lot of tension.

Your psycho mode almost made you lean forward again, daring to see if some friction was possible. But you didn’t, trying to be prudent and acting sane.

“I would’ve wanted a normal first interaction and this time you should’ve asked me out on a date. That’s how it works where I come from but… here, I guess not” he stepped aside as the librarian handed you the book. And as you thanked her and turned to leave and pay somewhere else, he took out a card and handed it to you.

“I’m sure we can work on some sort of arrangement. Here, you may call me…” slightly irritated that he didn’t say much about your inquiry, you snatched the card and walked away.

The cathartic feelings of wanting to keep talking to him and running away from him at the same time resulted in excruciating. It didn’t make sense, the point of him was to nowhere. Being clueless about his age, name, and everything made it feel wrong. Yet, curiosity was starting to burn you.

…

Like a miracle, the heavens moved and sprinkled some luck above you. You found some friends on campus, they spoke English like you and were foreigners as well. One of them was a friend of the owner of a club and invited you for the night.

The invitation made you forgetful about your salesman, whom you hadn’t talked with since the encounter in the library. The card he handed the last time rested between the book you bought the same day, making you unable to read more because it reminded you of the encounter with him.

It resulted unknown to you when was that your life had turned over the edge of becoming twisted. Your feelings for a mysterious man who seemed more accusable than appeared remained undecided.

He made you feel like a wildfire and a caged bird at the same time. Delicate but menacing.

He seemed older than you, professional in a field, mature and imposing. Which you didn’t mind when he appeared to ask you about The Divine Comedy. Either way, you were playing but couldn’t risk anything. Especially in a country where you didn’t know how everything worked.

After getting out of the shower, your thoughts on the salesman are completely faded. You slip on a sequin dress and paint your eyes with glitter and a smokey style.

Thereafter, at the club you let yourself go and have a wild night. Between classes, essays, and the issue with the salesman, you needed a time out.

Everything feels nice when you take a bathroom break and you smile at your reflection. You know you are close to being drunk, it’s the most enjoyable stage of ingesting alcohol.

“Hey, let’s go dancing, I couldn’t find you before!” Yells one of your friends after you reunite with the little group. You nod excitedly, taking her hand and letting her take you to the dance floor.

The music reminded you of that time when spinnin records were a trend and everyone played their mixes at parties back at home. As you move along the track, you don’t look at anything in particular, you just feel interesting and sexy. But your eyes end up giving a quick glance at one table, almost making you stop your euphoric moment.

You swore you saw your salesman.

Looking around you don’t see him, so you return dancing but the odd sensation in your chest doesn’t let you rest.

“What happens?” Asks another friend, looking worried.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone. Never mind…” you shake your head, smiling and convincing them that everything is fine.

But once they got more drunk, you walked out, despite curiosity, you wanted to confirm if the tall gorgeous man was near you.

Rarely you bring up to question your life decisions. Not because you thought you were perfect, but because you easily accepted your errors.

And it wasn’t hard to accept you completely messed up by getting out of the club. Where the night was colder, and some steps away from the main entrance, the crowd was loud. A man could be heard pleading and sobbing, which made you fearful but eager to see what was happening.

You peeked at the alley beside the club. A wave of shock flooded you once you noticed another man was punching the one who yelped and sobbed for forgiveness.

Your salesman was the attacker.

“Please! I’ll pay everything back!” Your mind raced back to the moment you spotted your salesman inside the club minutes ago.

His dark grey suit didn’t fit the aura of the place, but he seemed to be talking with the same man he was now punching.

It was obvious at that point that he wasn’t a good man. He made fun of making people play his seemingly innocent games to later laugh in the face whenever they lost. He was never flirting with you, the odd feeling of uncertainty you felt with him was right.

You had to go. You had to burn the card he gave you, avoid the station where you met him, and forget about his face.

There’s panic in your system, your heart beats fast and nausea starts coming up your throat.

You want to get immediately drunk and forget everything you saw with a hangover. You need it.

But you don’t get very far. Midway through the stairs that conduct to the club, a hand holds your forearm with extreme pressure and drags you inside a private room.

Your salesman finally found you.

…

“You just killed a man!” you almost yelled as soon as he pushed you inside and closed the door.

The room was very fancy like the club. It had a big desk near a window, flower-shaped hanging lamps, black sparkly floor tiles, and a sage velvet couch.

Your salesman slides his fingers through his hair and looks at the ceiling before turning to you. One hand still carrying the murder weapon.

“He deserved it” was all he answered and you take a breath. In need of an alibi, you opened a random fridge in the room and grabbed a beer. Your salesman watched how you sipped at the can. He knew you were feeling a mix of curiosity and disgust for him.

Once you drink at least half of the content, you sigh, brushing aside some hair and walking towards him.

“Who are you?” you ask pleadingly, desperate to know how far you’ve gone for him.

“Eventually you’ll know” he sounds cold, calculating, and menacing. “You didn’t call…”

He was taking advantage of your vulnerability.

“I met you a week ago, I don’t even know your name” you admit with shame and dissatisfaction.

For the first time, he genuinely touches you. Hands straight to your waist, making gasp in surprise.

“You’re smart and will eventually understand. You’re my good girl”

His good girl….

What was left to do when you have a sociopath holding your waist with the same hands he had used to kill a man? Play along, even if you are terrified.

What had been your horrified face, slowly ends up in a smirk, tilting your head, squandering cheekiness. “I’m not your good girl, sir”

He slowly leaned back, taking a seat on the sage couch, one of his hands going straight to rest behind his head, against the wall. He twirled the knife against his knee, making you uneasy, but confident about your upcoming words.

“If I walk away, you can’t do much with me, I’m a foreigner. Sure the authorities would dismantle whatever dirty job you’re into and that’s a big no-no” you explain, and feeling a little too bold, you step between his legs.

“Your lack of ignorance amazes me” he admits, offering you a cocky smile. “It makes me even more infatuated”

Your left knee pushed aside his hand twirling the knife. He remained still but sure seemed slightly surprised when you ended up straddling him. With your hands glued to his dark tie, putting it into place.

“Hmm, well, be careful. I am no threat, I barely have valuable skills to get rid of you but I know I could be a problem. So I guess I won, sir…” you allow yourself to smile, following a path with your fingers, from his tie to his cheeks and nose, softly tracing his pale skin.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart” You knew he was trying to be in control, and the best part was that you weren’t fighting for it.

“There’s a lot I might not understand. I’m just a girl who happened to be in this city for a temporary academic project” When your lips brushed his, you couldn’t deny he was so fucking hot, you wished he wasn’t so weird and probably part of a mafia or cult or whatever. “You are the grown-ass man who got obsessed with me”

“I just find you an odd but interesting player, sweet girl” he tried to use his innocent smile but it was useless when you grabbed him by the shoulders and finally dared to kiss him.

He controlled it the moment he touched you again. His hands had a possessive sting and firmly grabbed you by the hips. One of them still holding the knife.

Feeling bold, with adrenaline flowing freely, you softly bit his lower lip. You knew it was over when he almost let out a moan, and after checking he had his eyes closed, you literally jumped away from him.

Without looking back, you started running. Your clumsy steps turn frantic, knowing damn well he would start following you soon. As you literally start pushing people to get out, your heart beats faster than ever and you have a growing anxiety, begging you to stop and breathe.

Once the cold air hit you, as you took a cab and saw no sign of your salesman, confusion struck you and you saw the blood in your chest and arm.

“Are you alright, girl?” The driver asked, also watching your bleeding state.

“Yes, just an accident, I’m okay” he nods unsure, but starts driving after you give him your destination.

His knife must’ve sliced your skin when you stood up from his lap. When he moved one of his big hands to caress your chin.

It wasn’t that you were scared of him, of your salesman. Although you should be; but you weren’t. Could it be that the worst part was that you were attracted to him? Even after watching him kill a man? You were screwed.

You realize the reason why you always ran away from him is because you don’t know how to face his unpredictable demeanor.

At that point, you didn’t know what he wanted. Only that he was obsessed with you. But his intentions remained a mystery unsolved.

Before getting out of the cab, you pay and send your friends a message that you left early because you got a headache after vomiting. This didn’t happen, but would’ve been better to experience it as a young woman in her twenties.

…

When you opened the door, he was already inside. The worst part is that you weren’t surprised anymore. You only stood at the feet of the door, looking at him with uneasiness.

“You got me worried,” he says, stopping his movements around your table. “You left some blood stains and I thought it was serious”

“You accidentally showed me your true nature. A little bit of blood shouldn’t scare you” his shirt indeed had some bloody spots, his blazer was gone, and the sleeves of his messy shirt were rolled up. You hated that your first thought was that he looked very hot.

He moved and took a seat at one of your tables. He sighed and you realized that perhaps he was also screwed up. For letting himself go too far for you.

“I don’t regret any encounter we’ve had,” he says. “Me neither”

He can’t stop staring at your bloodstained dress and you notice.

Fuck everything, you thought.

I’m attracted to him, he’s attracted to me, What’s the worst thing that could happen? (I don’t want to know).

“Silly boy, look what you did to me,” you say looking at the soaked fabric.

Something possessed you at that moment. Your hands went straight to lift your dress. His eyes trailed your sparkly underwear, your lower belly, and your ribs that rose and fell as you breathed.

Your hands twirl behind your back to unhook your bra; also soaked, throwing it to the floor.

Your salesman is quiet, his innocent smile about to fall because you know you have taken him by surprise.

Likely you’ll get a scar. The would-be slightly deep, an uneven line that passed from your neck to your shoulder.

You step forward, confidently eyeing him.

“Clean it” he tried to stand up, probably to grab a med kit but you stopped him with your heel. “With your mouth. Lick it clean…”

He gulped.

His manspread became the only thing you could care about. How he eyed you with lust and possession for some seconds, and then to lean forwards.

Once again his hands landed on the curves of your hips and he made you step up, leaving him inches away from you.

Your sudden surgation grew and his hot tongue finally made contact with your skin.

You savored the feeling of his tongue, knowing he wouldn’t clean anything but the semi-dry blood over your breast. He was only making a mess.

Then, he lifts his head and catches your lips in a sullied kiss. The way he held you, made you understand how he always wanted control. Above anything.

“I will be gone within time. You can ruin me while it lasts…” you blurt out, panting for air.

“I’ll ruin you. But I don’t want to rip you apart. That’s pointless…” he admits in your lips, blood near your chin that he wipes out. “You’re the most fun I’ve had in years. My little toy…”

“Alright, I’ll be your toy” he nods, kissing you again. “Know that my lips are sealed when it comes to you”

“And you won’t have to worry about anything again…” you moan on his lips when he pulls your hair and finally makes you lay on your once new carpet, now displaying some splotches of blood.

“I don’t need your money”

“Don’t you want to make your mother proud and relieved from student debts? From rent?” You can’t think straight. “It’s not correct…”

“None of this is, y/n. Now shut your mouth and spread your legs, toy”

It’s wrong, immoral, a complete madness. You know everything will change once the night dies and the morning comes. But as much as you tried to communicate to him that you weren’t scared, you knew it was over, you’ve gotten too deep into his shit.

“Farewell to my purity” you whisper in his ear and it’s enough to make his eyes turn darker, full of lust.

Everything that consoles purity would be gone from you. And the fact that you were ready scared you. But once his hands started meeting places across your body, you welcomed the sin.

As well as your mind seized thinking. Not caring about the consequences.

_______________________________________________

If you ask for more I will provide

Quién me manda a escribir estas mamadas? I’m just ovulating.

[suiana]

cw: matriarchy, yandere! househusband, fem reader, this is a work of fiction, please don't read further if you're uncomfortable, thanks!

it's the 1950s. men have become the caretakers of the house while women have been tasked with being the breadwinner. the age of revolution, they say! a time period where societal norms have completely flipped. a society where it's a woman's world.

as a woman, you're expected to marry a respectable man. one who knows how to care for the household and love you like a loving man.

thankfully, you've found one. your highschool sweetheart that is just the sweetest thing ever. handsome, tall, and knows his way with tending to homely duties. he even loves you like it's his last day alive!

he's basically society's ideal man. and he's your husband.

but you don't know how to tell him that you want to get a divorce. that you can't keep up with his... oddly obsessive behavior that's suffocating you. how you seem to dread going home, expecting a warm welcome only to get hit by a barrage of accusatory questions of whether you're cheating on him or not.

you love him, you do. but your husband has changed for the worse ever since you two got married a few months ago. perhaps a few weeks after your honeymoon. you know how people are, questioning why there's still no child even after a few months of marriage.

and it's not that you two are infertile. you're just not ready for one yet. you've explained it to him, you want to focus in your career first. your husband should understand that, shouldn't he? he's a man after all.

yet it seems that he thinks otherwise. constantly doing it, asking whether you're seeing others, whether you really love him or not...

it's annoying. and frankly, you've had enough.

you know, you know. men are emotional creatures. they get anxious and angry easily. they just can't help it! it's in their nature after all. but still... if he could just be a little more understanding... a little less... paranoid...

"a d-divorce?"

he gasps, taking a wary step back as he drops the stack of papers to the floor. his eyes are wide, body frozen to the ground. horrified, you could see it in his eyes.

"but honey... we're so happy, aren't we? you love me, don't you?"

you let out a sigh, pinching your nose bridge at his words. yes... yes you do love him. and you still do, you think. but how can you stand a single more day of him acting like you're going out cheating when really, you're working your back off so you can spoil your darling husband?

"I'm just not satisfied with how you're behaving."

you suppose that will work. how will he ever resist a woman's word? not in this era, clearly.

you watch as your husband stares at you, face pale as he brings his hands to his face, murmuring words of despair while he shakes his head.

no, no, no.

this couldn't be happening.

he thought you two were perfect together! what changed?! you love him, don't you? you still come home to him everyday, give him a peck as you walk through those doors! everything was fine! everything is fine!

no, you must've been brainwashed by someone else.

by some... some other manwhore. a good for nothing man who didn't get a proper education, surely!

that's the only other explanation. you must've been seduced! after all, you're a good woman. you could never do any wrong. not in the eyes of the law, not by society, and definitely not in his eyes.

because you're his wife. his beloved wife. you're a good breadwinner, you work hard, you bring him out on dates, you don't abuse him like other wives do...

and in return, he's the perfect husband! he cooks the best food, doesn't he?! all hot and delicious! you said so yourself! he dresses how you like, works out, keeps the house neat and tidy for you, does groceries and makes sure that everything is perfect!

sure, he's a little bit on the protective and anxious side... but can you blame him? you're gorgeous! he's worried you'll be stolen from him while you work! by- by those good for nothing guys that think they should be independent. who do they think they are, working in public when they should be someone's husband? spewing those gender equality crap that you have been talking about too? you've been poisoned. surely.

and the fact that he's not able to provide a child yet? of course he's going to be anxious and overthink! can you blame him? he's just a man!

"please... please don't leave. I'll do anything. anything! you can't leave me! I'll die without you!"

he feels his heart race, sweat lining the skin of his forehead. he's hyperventilating now. can't take the fact that you actually want to leave him.

it's not real.

It's not real.

It's not real.

and yet, the way that you're looking at him is proving him otherwise.

"but you can't leave me! we've been together since high school!"

he tries to plead with you. but you're stone-faced and look like you're not looking to negotiate. his palms grow clammy as he desperately racks his brain for words.

"I'll change! I'll stop... stop asking whether you're cheating on me- you're not, right? you wouldn't cheat on me! i know you wouldn't! you're just misguided!"

then you let out a soft sigh and he feels the last of his restraint snap.

"no! you can't leave me!"

in a second, he's on you, pinning you to the ground. all rationality has left his body but can you blame him? he's just a man. men get emotional easily. that's why it's better for them to stay at home, away from politics where they could easily cause millions of death over a small dispute. at home, where they belong.

"I'm yours! forever and now! you can't just... just throw me away! we took vows! you can't break them!"

fat tears roll down his cheeks, his hands pinning your wrists to the ground. despite the fact that they're more emotional, men have always been stronger. isn't that why they had to go school to be taught how to control their violence? to not raise a hand at anyone no matter how emotional they get?

"I'm your husband! i would never leave you! you can't just leave me too!"

then something in the air shifts and he sniffles softly, gripping your wrists tightly. for the first time in your life, you feel fear. fear for your own life. fear that your darling husband inflicted on you.

"you're not leaving me."

...

"hey have you heard? apparently y/n hasn't been coming into the office lately... I'm worried for her."

"yeah... and i heard that her husband is visiting some rural area for a short getaway. my husband told me."

"i hope she's alright... she should go find him soon. how will her husband ever survive on his own? what if he gets ill?"

and accompany him you will.

for now, no one will ever bother you two ever again. man or woman, society and law alike. just two sould, far from everyone else. as it should be.

as it will always be.

[moonstruckme]

Pookie! I need you to write me something pretty please :)

Can you write Remus comforting a reader with an anxiety disorder when someone told them "there's nothing to be anxious about. You just want attention" ??? Pretty please?? Love you pookieeeeeee

Thanks for requesting!

cw: mean girl stuff, social anxiety

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 929 words

“Shh.” Remus holds you close to his chest, his hand moving up and down your arm now that your crying has slowed. “It’s okay. It’s just us, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you echo, croakily. You’re glad you can’t see your boyfriend’s face, for fear you’d die of embarrassment otherwise. The looming insecurity of your day stands over you like a grim reaper. 

You arrived home from a friend’s birthday dinner to find Remus sitting on the couch, already marking the page of his book as he turned to you with a soft smile. 

“Hi, sweetheart. How was it?” 

You replied, through a laugh that turned into a sob halfway through, “Not great.” 

The dinner had been an event of foreboding for you since your invite. You’d been determined to be a good friend by not bailing, but actually going had confirmed your worst fears; it was loud, crowded, filled with people you didn’t know and didn’t fit with. Your outfit wasn’t right, the menu was daunting, and conversation swirled all around you about things you weren’t a part of. The fallout was basically inevitable. 

You perhaps waited too long to excuse yourself. You were sweating buckets and breathing around a lump by the time you did, whispering an explanation to your friend before locking yourself into a bathroom stall to talk yourself down. You’re sure she didn’t mean anything by telling the people sitting closest to her why you were gone—you don’t think she’d do it to gossip, and she’s never talked down to you about that sort of thing, at least not to your face—but by the time you returned one of her friends—a stranger to you, who’s name you can’t even remember—had formulated a fairly decisive opinion and dubbed you an attention seeker. 

You stayed only a little longer after that. Just long enough to avoid attracting more attention. And you worked yourself up well enough on the way home that all it took was one innocent question from Remus to send you crumpling into his arms. 

You’ve tried to steel yourself more than once, but any attempts at stoicism have been foiled by your boyfriend’s tender looks and whispered placations, which only make you cry harder. If you’re an attention seeker, Remus is your holy grail. Self loathing sits lodged in your throat like a stone. 

“Whose friend was it, again?” Remus asks, stroking your arm gently. 

You take a breath, trying to steady your voice. “Does it matter?” 

“I don’t mean it’s your friend’s fault, sweetheart,” Remus says. He’s all softness and patience, better than you could ever deserve. “I just thought you might talk to her, if you want to. She ought to know her friend is going around saying cruel things.” 

“She was there.” Your throat tightens at the memory. 

“Oh. Then I don’t suppose you need to say anything; I’m sure she’s already very upset for you.” 

You try to laugh, frustrated with yourself when it only seems to spur another wave of tears. “Rem. You’re biased.” 

“What?” Remus sounds genuinely surprised. “You don’t think she’s angry with that other girl?”

“She’s her friend.” 

“So are you.” His arms tighten around you protectively, chin bumping your head. “I may be biased, but the other girl was clearly in the wrong. There’s no excuse for the way she acted.” 

A dozen rebuttals fly about your head, but you keep your mouth shut. You don’t have the energy to argue. Unfortunately, Remus hears your argument in the silence anyway. 

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, “no one puts themselves through what you do for attention. You don’t choose to feel that way.”

You hunch your back, tucking your head underneath his chin. “I do get attention for it, though.” 

“That doesn’t mean you want it.” 

“But I—”

“Do you want it?” You can’t see Remus, but you hear the hardened edge to his tone. “Did you like it, when that girl called attention to you in the middle of the dinner?” 

Your voice smalls. “No.” 

“Right.” The gentleness returns. Remus puts his lips to your head. “I know you didn’t, dovey. So don’t torment yourself, please. She doesn’t know anything about you.” 

You push your lips together. He lets you chew on your next words for a while, his thumb swiping softly back and forth over your upper arm, the sleeve of your top shifting slightly with the motion. 

“What if…” You gnaw the inside of your cheek. Remus waits. “What if everyone thinks that?” 

“Mm. Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think most people would. Surely not anyone who knows you, or anyone worth being around.” He takes a breath, thinking. “You can’t always control what people think. I know you say I’m biased, but anyone who thinks something like that really isn’t worth thinking about at all. You’ve got enough going through that head of yours, yeah?” He kisses your hair fondly. 

“I guess so,” you admit. 

“Yeah,” Remus decides. He pulls away to see your face, pushing hair away from your tacky cheeks. “I’d say so.” 

You wonder if you look as horrendously in love as you feel. You think you must, because your boyfriend’s expression softens impossibly further as he turns his head to give you a proper kiss. You feel raw but comforted, and suddenly, totally exhausted. 

“Let the bullies worry about themselves.” Remus gives you a tender look. “I’ll worry about you.” 

You let a small smile tilt your lips. “And what am I left to worry about?” 

“Nothing,” he says solemnly. “Think you can manage that?” 

“Nope.” 

“Mm. Well, try.” 

[iamnotoriginalphil]

A Textbook Case of Love (Professor!Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You're finally graduating but the only person you want to celebrate is missing in action. Perhaps it's time for a big romantic gesture.

Words: 5.5 k

Warnings: Student/teacher relationship, toxic relationship, power imbalance, possessiveness, tattoo, bondage, marking, biting, oral (R giving), fingering (R giving), teasing, swearing, begging, dom!R, sub!Agatha, emotional vulnerability

Tags: @sasheemo @buttercandy16 @chlondykebar @midnight-lestrange @babybeeelle @dontsblameme@grilledcheeseandguavajelly @fuckedupforkhahn @latedawnsearlysunsets92

AN: It's been a whole but I finally managed to write the next part to this series. I have at least one more planned so hopefully I can get that out soonish.

It was the happiest day of your life. You could feel the weight of your parents’ eyes on you as you walked towards the smiling woman. You held out your hand, her palm sliding along yours. Smiling, you turned, a camera going off.

Graduation was a big deal and you were going to milk it for all it was worth.

Your parents had shown up to surprise you that morning, right as you’d been packing up your dorm room. Dragging you away for brunch, they’d wanted to catch up. You, doing your best to dodge questions, had mostly talked about all the research you’d done that year. The shared looks between them suggested they picked up on how evasive you were being and didn’t like it. But you weren’t about to tell them everything you’d been doing that year.

Sitting back down, your eyes scanned the crowd of professors. Your fingers tightened around the curled up piece of paper in your hand.

You’d worked hard, pouring yourself into your final year. Your senior thesis had been a work of art. And the only person you could thank for it hadn’t even bothered to show up.

Walking from Agatha’s that morning, there’d been a spring in your step. You’d been excited, the day finally arriving. After this, there would be no more hiding, no more sneaking around. You could be open about your love for Agatha, could scream it from the rooftops, and no one could do a damned thing about it.

The thought that she wouldn’t be there hadn’t even crossed your mind.

The disappointment settled heavy in your stomach. You knew what it felt like to have that piercing gaze focused solely on you. The weight of it was familiar, comforting due to its origin. Without it, you felt unmoored, like you could disappear into the sky.

You checked out of the rest of the ceremony. More names, more speeches, nothing you cared about. Without the rough voice of Agatha in your ear, none of it mattered. There was only one person you wanted to celebrate with, and you knew you had to make it through dinner with your parents before you could go find her.

“Congratulations, honey,” your dad said as they found you amongst the crowd of new graduates.

“Thanks, Dad,” you said.

Your mom gave you a tight hug, her perfume familiar, bringing up memories of your childhood. It was easy to forget when you were so far from home. You’d thought moving out of state for college would help you spread your wings and grow into the person you were meant to be. You hadn’t considered all the parts of yourself you’d be leaving behind when you did so.

“We’re so proud of you,” your mom said, drawing back.

“Thanks.”

You weren’t sure how to be around them right now. Your stomach was churning with anxiety, your gut telling you something was wrong. Agatha hadn’t said anything the night before, and if she’d been a bit more intense than usual, you hadn’t been complaining. Her bruises still littered your body under your cap and gown. You wanted more.

You followed them back to the car they’d rented, slumping into the back seat like when you’d been a child. You watched Westview pass by as your parents drove, only straightening when you recognised the restaurant you were pulling up in front of.

“You still like Italian, don’t you, honey?” your dad asked, turning to look at you from his place behind the wheel.

“Yeah,” you said, but all you could think about was the last time you’d been there.

And everything that had come after.

It was different from last time, plenty of graduates there with their families to celebrate. You sat at one of the centre tables, so different from the intimate corner you’d holed up in with Agatha. Your knee bobbed, hands caught under your thighs, doing your best not to look over at that corner. You shouldn’t be thinking about that night that changed everything for you. Not while you were there with your parents.

Just the memory sent a throb between your legs.

You looked down at the menu, reading over it. When you glanced up, both of your parents were watching you.

“Everything okay?” you asked.

They shared a glance before your mother leaned forward, her hand clasping yours.

“You’ve felt distant this year,” she said.

“I’ve been busy.” You shrugged, “you know how it is in your senior year.”

“You’ve barely called,” your dad said.

“I told you. I’ve been busy. I graduated top of my class. That doesn’t happen if I kept messing around,” you said.

“We thought, perhaps, you might have been seeing someone,” your mom said, hesitant as if worried about scaring you off.

You tugged your hand out from under hers, your anxiety only making your knee bob harder. Your eyes darted around the restaurant before they returned to your parents.

“The only person I’ve seen with any regularity has been Professor Harkness.” Not technically a lie, “I had too much work to go meeting anyone new.”

“It’s okay if you have been seeing someone, honey,” your dad said.

“Look, Professor Harkness demands a lot from her students. Ask anyone. She has a reputation for being a hard ass. It’s not weird to not have time for anything but studying,” you replied, “I got enough grilling from my friends for not being at every stupid frat party. I don’t need it from you guys too.”

You could play the part of the sullen teenager they remembered from when you last lived with them. Shutting down would only remind them of how stubborn you could be. In order to keep the peace, they’d continue on like everything was fine and they didn’t want to know more.

They’d find out soon enough anyway.

Letting the subject drop, they went back to consulting the menu. You sighed, putting yours down. That same anxiety wasn’t leaving you just because they’d let you slip out of giving answers. All you wanted was to go back home to Agatha and celebrate with her. After all, it was her hard work that got you to this point.

“So what are you thinking you’re going to do now?” your dad asked over his pasta.

“What do you mean?” You prodded at your lasagna, knowing you should eat more, that if Agatha had been beside you it would have been easy to eat.

“Now you have your degree. You know your room is waiting for you back home,” he said.

“Oh. Right. That,” you said.

Truth was, you hadn’t thought about it much. All you knew was there was no chance in hell you were moving back home. Not while Agatha was still in Westview. Your plan extended just as far as Agatha. She was your future. That was all you knew.

“Do you have a job lined up?” your mom asked.

“Not yet.” You pushed some of your food around your plate, “I’m waiting to hear back on some things.”

Namely, what Agatha thought you should do.

“Well, you can wait with us back home. You’ll have no where to go after you move out of your dorm,” your mom said.

“Don’t worry about that. I have a place to stay and it’s better if I stay in town. You never know when you’ll get the call, right?” you replied, “seriously guys, I’ve got this.”

“You’ve worked so hard. You should be allowed to relax now,” your mom said.

“Honey, we’re worried you’re pushing yourself too hard. You’re going to burn yourself out if you don’t take some time to relax,” your dad said.

“You guys practiced this conversation, didn’t you?” You stabbed a piece of pasta, “seriously, I’m fine.”

“You didn’t even come home for Christmas,” your dad said.

“Because I had too much work. I wouldn’t have been any fun if I had,” you said.

“We missed you,” your mum said.

“I missed you guys too. But it was worth it,” you said.

“Top of your class,” your dad said with a small nod of his head. The pride was obvious in his voice.

“So stop worrying about me. I’ve got it all under control,” you said.

They let it drop for the rest of the night. You got the creme brûlée and thought about Agatha with each bite. One day, when your parents weren’t around, you’d taste it from her lips again. You were already dreaming about that day.

Your parents dropped you off at your dorm, your last night there. If you had any say, you wouldn’t be sleeping there. Texting Agatha, you sat on your stripped mattress, a thin single you had no interest in with questionable stains, waiting to hear from her.

You didn’t get a response.

That same anxiety was bubbling away in your gut again. Pacing the room, you stared at the boxes you had packed that day. Four years of your life packed up into a handful of boxes. It seemed so small that way, your life nothing more than the possessions you’d collected over the years. But your life was so much bigger than could be contained in the shoebox of a dorm room you’d been placed in.

Tugging on the sweater you’d worn when you’d left Agatha’s that morning, you snatched up your phone and your keys. A reckless idea had entered your mind. The kind of idea that you thought could end badly, but could end so very well. You were a gambling woman, and you were hoping the pay out would be high on this one.

Later that night, later than was appropriate for a social call, you rang Agatha’s doorbell. The night air had cooled, the wind bitter. You knocked. The house had been dark when you’d shown up, all except for one window. Upstairs, Agatha’s bedroom was bathed in soft light. You knocked again.

“What?” Agatha snarled as she opened the door.

“You weren’t at my graduation today,” you said, “I was very disappointed.”

You pouted, leaning against the doorframe. She growled, stepped back, right into the shadows of the house. Your eyes swept over her. You loved when she wore the robe, the one that clung to her curves and showed off enough skin to make your mouth water.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“See, I lose my place in the dorms tomorrow. I’m not a student anymore. And I have no where to go,” you said.

“And what am I meant to do about that?” she asked.

“Well, I was hoping you might let me stay with you,” you said, keeping your voice light, “it’s not as if I wasn’t practically living here anyway.”

“And why would I let you do that?” she snarled.

“Because I’ve brought you such a nice present to thank you for being the best professor at the college,” you said, “I would have never done so well if it wasn’t for you.”

“You looking for one last fuck for the road?” she asked, stepping back again.

“You ending things with me?” You tried to make it sound like you didn’t care, but your entire body tensed for the blow of rejection that would undo you.

“You’ll be moving on now. And I have a policy. No letting wanton sluts in when they’ll just disappear on me,” she said.

“I’m not disappearing,” you said, “in fact, I’d quite like to stay as long as you’ll have me.”

“Right,” she scoffed.

“You know, my parents asked me to move back home tonight. I said no. And when they asked me what my plans were for the future I only had one,” you said, “you.”

Her eyes swept over you, lingering for a moment on your face. She shook her head but stepped back again.

“Come on then, pet.”

She turned her back on you, wandering further into the house. You grinned, turning to grab your stuff, leaving most of it in the front entrance to be dealt with when it wasn’t the middle of the night. Agatha had disappeared somewhere into the house in the few minutes you’d managed to keep your eye off her.

You closed and locked the front door, the way you had so many times before. Taking the stairs two at a time, you went hunting. If this was some kind of game you intended to win. And your prize was going to be Agatha.

Turns out, you didn’t have to look far. She was lounging on the bed, her glasses resting on the end of her nose, a book resting in her long fingers. Her legs were crossed at the ankle and when she looked up at you, you froze.

“Why didn’t you come today?” you asked.

That same anxiety was back. Perhaps this was her ending things. Perhaps Rio had been right and your relationship had a deadline you didn’t even realise. Built in, the moment you graduated, the entire thing was over. Agatha could throw you out without a second thought.

Maybe she was done with you.

“Can’t you handle yourself if I’m not constantly with you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I thought we would celebrate together,” you said.

“What’s there to celebrate?” Her smile turned razor sharp, “you graduated. Plenty of people do. You’re nothing special.”

It hurt, her cruelty, but you gritted your teeth and stepped forward.

“I’m special because I’m yours,” you said.

Something shifted in her face. She lent forward, those eyes dragging over your body again, tongue slow as it ran along her lower lip. You shivered, but held your ground. You would stay there as long as she needed.

She rolled her eyes and lent back again, eyes returning to her book.

You waited, being her good girl. Whatever she was thinking, whatever game this was, you were determined to get your prize. She continued ignoring you.

“Don’t you want to see your present?” you asked when the silence grew too long it made you itch.

“If you must,” she said, still not looking up.

Grasping the bottom of the sweater you’d taken from her, you tossed it onto the bed. Her eyes flicked to it then back to her book. Your tank top was next, landing on her foot. She kicked it aside. Your bra landed in her lap.

Her eyes finally dragged up to you. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip as you turned, lifting your arm to show her your ribs. Her sharp inhale was everything you’d hoped it would be.

“Do you like you present?” you asked, doing your best to sound innocent as you asked.

The bed creaked. Fingertips ran over your skin, tracing the letters you’d had inked into your skin. You trembled under her touch.

“Get bored with a pen, did you, pet?” she asked.

“I went and found one of those tattoo parlours open all night. When they asked me who Agatha was, I told them she’s the woman I’m going to spend my life with,” you said, not bothering to tell her that you’d been advised against getting a lover’s name tattooed on your body, “your name will be on me forever because that’s how long I’m going to love you.”

Her fingernails dug into your skin, framing the word you’d had put on your body. It made sense, given she had sunk beneath your skin and was never leaving. She was as much a part of you as your own heart.

“You love me?” she asked, her voice a rasp.

You looked down at her, a hand cupping her cheek, the other tangling in her hair the way you loved to do. Blue eyes swam with something, so beautiful and so heartbreaking. You lent forward until your forehead pressed to hers.

“I do. I love you,” you said.

Her lips pressed to yours, desperate and needy. You bent over her, kissing her back just as desperately, the anxiety finally soothing in your stomach. There was no chance she was ending things when she was dragging you down, her tongue in your mouth, her fingers grasping you hard enough to hurt. You hummed, pushing her back, laying her back on the mattress.

“I’ll be with you forever,” you said before your lips trailed down her throat.

She whimpered, a surprisingly vulnerable sound from her. Your tongue tasted her skin before you sucked on her pulse point. Her head tilted back, giving you more access as her nails scraped down your back.

Your fingers played with the tie of her robe, her body warm beneath you. She made such a soft noise as you dragged your mouth lower, nipping at her collarbone, tongue dipping into the divot between. Her nails dug in to the skin of your back, points of pain only making you pant against her skin.

“What are you doing, kitten?” she asked, voice soft as you laved attention on her body.

“Showing you how much I love you,” you replied, lips brushing skin as you whispered the words, “let me show you. Let me take care of you for once.”

Your eyes met hers. The hesitation was obvious. If there was one thing you knew about Agatha Harkness, it was that she hated giving up control. But all you wanted to do was make her feel good. Prove that she should keep you around forever. That you weren’t going anywhere. That she was yours as much as you were hers. That your name should be inked onto her skin too.

Her fingertips ran over your cheekbone before she nodded. You grinned, lowering your mouth back to her skin as your fingers pulled the knot free. Silk slipped either side of her body, baring her to you. You might have had her sitting on your face the night before, but you would never grow tired of seeing her naked body. She was beautiful, a piece of poetry spread out on the mattress for your eyes only.

You were slow as you dragged your hands up over her ribs, cupping her breasts. She sighed, a soft noise, arching into your touch. You spent so much time there, kissing and licking at her skin. She writhed beneath you, softly mewling. When her hands tried to guide you lower, you caught them.

Her growl as you tied them above her head only made you smile.

“Do you want to tell me why you missed my graduation?” you asked, fingers pinching at her nipples.

She moaned, pressing further into your touch, but not answering your questions. You let it go, wanting to assuage your anxiety by making her cum on your tongue. Further proof that she was yours, completely and utterly.

You sucked a slow hickey into the skin on her hip, feeling her wriggle beneath you. With her tied up, and her consent to take care of her, you were going to take your time with her. You were in control this time. She was going to be moaning your name until she forget any other words.

Your fingers were gentle as the dragged up her legs, finding the soft skin of her inner thigh. Your lips wrapped around one nipple, tongue flicking over it. She huffed, but her body was arching towards you, offering herself so nicely for your touch. You hummed, muffled against her skin, feeling her breath catch.

You grasped her thighs, parting them to slot yourself between them. Hovering over her, you took a moment to gaze on her. Squirming, her eyes were hooded, lips parted, cheeks flushed. Blue eyes watched you, smouldering, and you grinned.

“Do you understand how beautiful you are?” you murmured, thumb digging into the crease of her hip.

Her legs fell further open, welcoming you in, urging you closer. You slid further down her body, lips pressing to soft skin, feeling the way her muscles flexed under you. Your tongue tasted the salt on her skin, revelling in her warmth, in how wonderful it felt to get your mouth on her.

“Relax,” you murmured, “let me take care of you.”

She grumbled, but with your hands stroking over her skin, she began to relax under your touch. You wanted to feel her melt into the mattress, to let you take control, to make her feel the way she made you feel. Safe, taken care of, satiated.

Your fingers slid through her folds, feeling her wetness gathering on your fingertips. Her hips pressed up towards you, a wordless command. With your free hand, you pinned her down, exploring her without giving her quite what she wanted. You were going to make her desperate for you. You might even get her to beg.

That would be fun.

Your finger was slow to circle her clit, watching the way her face flushed, the way her breath stuttered, the way her fingers clenched above her head. There was something so lovely about the way her face contorted in pleasure. You would paint a picture of it, hang it in every room you were in, gaze upon it.

“Pet, stop teasing,” she commanded.

“Uh uh,” you said, “you’re not in charge anymore, Professor Harkness.”

The way her legs tightened around you was interesting.

“You like that, huh? You like being fucked by your student? You like when I turn the tables on you?”

Your lips brushed against the skin of her stomach, feeling the muscles jump.

“Want me to call you Professor Harkness as I’m knuckles deep inside you?” you murmured.

The noise she made was delicious.

“I wish they could all see this,” you said, finger resting at her entrance, “see the formidable Professor Harkness begging to be fucked by her star pupil.”

“I’m not.” Her breath caught, “I’m not begging.”

“Not yet,” you promised.

Your tongue ran through her folds, groaning at her taste. Her hips jumped towards your mouth. Your hands slid up her legs, holding them open, hands grasping hard enough to leave bruises on her pretty pale skin. You loved the thought of your handprints on her skin for anyone to see.

Your tongue circle over her clit. Your name was command, but it was shaky. You ignored it, finger dipping into her entrance. Pressing your tongue against her clit, you let her grind against your face for a moment, just long enough to let her think she’d gotten her way.

Your finger pushed in as you drew away. Your teeth sunk into her inner thigh, soft skin sweet on your lips. Her keening noise was beautiful, a symphony to your ears.

“Do you think they’d get a kick out of this? Watching their professor squirm?” you asked her, “do you think they’d like to know you you’re nothing but a desperate little thing?”

“Shut up,” she growled.

“That doesn’t sound like someone who wants to cum,” you said.

You took your hand from between her legs, using the grip on her legs to keep them open, her hot cunt exposed to your gaze. She glistened in the soft light, so pretty, so beautiful.

“If you want to, beg,” you told her, “or don’t you want this, Professor Harkness?”

She glared at you, blue eyes flashing. You waited, having learnt patience at her hand. She’d taught you plenty of lessons during the last year. Now it was time to show her through a practical demonstration.

“Please,” she said eventually, through gritted teeth, jaw tense.

“Tell me, Professor,” you said, leaning forward again, breath ghosting over her glistening folds, “do you think any of them would find you terrifying after seeing you like this?”

Your lips wrapped around her clit before she could say anything, her sass unnecessary when all you wanted was to ruin her. Your name was sweet on her lips as she moaned, hips bucking up into your mouth. You let her, figuring it was time for her to get a little bit more. Just enough to take the edge off. Just enough to drive her crazy.

Your fingers were slow to push into her. Her whimper was so delicious you wanted to drink it in. You hummed, her legs tightening around your head, thighs trying to clamp down on you. Your free hand pried them open again, giving yourself more room.

“Do you think your students would like to know how pretty you look when you’re all whiney and desperate for me?” you asked, fingers curling inside her.

“Don’t be a brat,” she hissed.

“I bet they’d love to know the great Professor Harkness loves being tied up and fucked by her star pupil. I’m sure they’d enjoy watching you come undone so easily by someone just like them,” you said.

“You’re nothing like them,” she ground out.

“No, because none of them will ever get the chance to touch you like this.” Your palm ground against her clit, “none of them will ever know how sweet you taste.”

“Never,” she gasped.

You curled your fingers again, rewarding her. Your name fell from her lips, a whine unlike anything you’d ever heard from her before. A rush of power went through you, heady and addictive. To have a woman like this desperate for you, letting you do this for her, willing to be yours completely and utterly.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmured.

Her shape inhale made you you grin against the skin of her hipbone. Your teeth nipped at her, your chuckle lost in the loud moan low in her throat, straining against her restraints. Your lips returned to her clit, sucking gently. Her hips pressed up into your mouth.

You felt as her internal walls began to flutter around your fingers. Curling and twisting your fingers, you sucked harshly until she clamped down on you. You eased her through it, slowing your thrusts until she went limp against the mattress. Your tongue lapped at her, cleaning her up. The soft noise she made, shifting underneath you, was delicious.

You drew back, sitting on your heels as you stared down at her. Her eyes were hooded, a lazy smile on her face as she looked back at you. Crawling up her body, you kissed her, letting her taste herself on your tongue. You were careful as you untied her wrists, gently rubbing at them, helping the blood flow back into her fingers.

“Proud of yourself, pet?” she asked.

You sat beside her, leaning back against the headboard, pulling her body against you. Your fingers played with the ends of her hair, wild and dark and wonderful. Your lips pressed to her forehead.

“Very proud,” you said, “mainly because I’m yours.”

She chuckled, but she pressed closer, bare skin against bare skin. You shimmied out of your shorts, kicking them off the bed. Her legs tangled with yours, half draped over you.

“You were really going to let me walk out and never see you again?” you asked.

“I’m not desperate enough to beg you to stay,” she replied.

“You wouldn’t fight for me?” You were surprised by how much that thought hurt.

“I know how that ends. Everyone leaves me,” she said.

Her face pressed into the crook of your neck, hidden from view. Agatha had never been one to indulge in self pity but you couldn’t ignore the tone of her voice. Your hand stroked down her spine, feeling her wiggle closer.

“I won’t,” you said, “I won’t ever leave you.”

The soft noise she made had your heart squeezing painfully. You tightened your arms around her, wanting to absorb her into your being, not able to get close enough.

“I should have been there today,” she said, lips brushing your skin with every word whispered.

“Yes, you should have,” you said.

“I wanted to be there but…” She emerged to look at you, lifting herself enough to stare right into your eyes, “I didn’t want to watch the moment you realised you got exactly what you wanted from me and had no use for me anymore.”

“That’s never going to happen,” you said.

Her eyes dragged down your body again, focusing on the dark ink on your skin, her name a part of you now. Dragging her fingertip over it, tracing each letter like it was something precious, you watched her tongue drag along her lower lip. You rolled, giving her more access to the tattoo.

“I’m yours completely,” you said, voice soft, “I can’t live without you, Agatha. Please don’t send me away. The only place I want to be is wherever you are.”

With anyone else, it would be too intense of a thing to say, but everything with Agatha was intense. Every moment, every feeling, every sentiment. It was overwhelming, all consuming, and everything you wanted. She was everything you wanted.

“How did I get so lucky to find you?” she asked, voice so full of awe.

“You must have been a very good girl,” you said said, grinning at her.

Her nails dragged over your skin before she pinched you, right beneath your new ink. You laughed, pulling her down onto you. It was muffled against her lips as she kissed you. She climbed onto you, straddling your waist. Her fingers splayed over your ribs, keeping contact with your tattoo as her tongue delved into your mouth.

“I want you here with me,” she whispered against your lips as if it was a confession, one that could not be spoken in the harsh light of day.

Your hands ran up her bare thighs before you gripped her hips. She drew back, her hair a curtain between you and the rest of the world. You gazed up at her, so full of something you couldn’t put into words, burning as bright as the stars and as breathtaking as the coldest winter air. Her hand tightened over your ribs, almost bruising as she stared down at you.

“Then I’m going nowhere,” you said.

You waited for her to assess you, those blue eyes darting over your face as if looking for falsehoods. It wasn’t the first time, her assessing gaze familiar to you. It broke your heart that she was constantly on the lookout for lies, that she had been taught everyone would lie to her, that people wanted to hurt her.

You would make every single one of them feel the pain they’d caused her tenfold.

“You’re sure?” she asked.

Your hands cupped her face, gentle and yet demanding. You wanted her looking at you as you told her what she needed to hear, no hiding behind her hair or behind a book. No deflecting. No ability to brush it off.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. You’re the only thing that matters in the world. Everything else can burn as long as you remain. My life means nothing without you. You’re all I see,” you said.

Her face broke open into something you hadn’t seen before. Hope and longing and something so soft your heart ached. This wasn’t the fierce Professor Harkness you’d heard about, nor the dismissive woman you’d met all those months ago. Gone were the spikes and self defence and sharp tongue. You thought this might be the real woman under the harsh exterior. Someone desperate to be loved but who had been hurt over and over again until her scars were all she could see.

You’d never loved her more.

“I love you,” she breathed out, her face full of wonder and surprise, and a touch of anxiety as if bracing for her words to be what ended your own feelings.

Instead, your ribcage cracked open, your heart growing in ways you hadn’t thought it could. You’d thought she might love you, her actions enough to give you hope, but to hear the words on her own lips ruined you.

Surging up, you captured her lips in a searing kiss. Pouring every emotion in your body into the kiss, you held her close, like she was something precious, and something you were desperate not to lose. She whimpered, pressing closer, this kiss unlike any you’d shared before. You would live in this moment forever if you could.

When she drew back, there was a light to her, a glow you’d never seen before. It was as if something in her had relaxed. You were in awe, unsure how you’d gotten lucky enough to get her attention. You were nothing in comparison to her. And yet somehow, she’d chosen you and she loved you.

You were the luckiest person in the world.

“I hope you know you’re never getting rid of me now, kitten,” she said, lips pulling up into an impish grin.

“Good.” You rolled, flipping her onto her back, hovering over her, “because I’m going nowhere.”

You spent until dawn proving it to her.

[enwoso]

WHAT WAS & WHAT IS | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

based on a request but i for some reason haven’t linked it on here, sorry..

anyways don’t try and flirt with leah’s girl x

grumpy universe masterlist

alessia was humming to herself as she tidied up the kitchen, the morning had been peaceful and her day was falling into an easy rhythm. alessia had dropped you off at school this morning and since had, had a real bounce in her step.

leah was around after stopping by when alessia had gotten home from the school run, the blonde had made herself comfy in the living room for now, after alessia had shooed her away for distracting alessia as she was working.

so far things felt steady — comfortable.

a sudden knock on the door broke her from her thoughts. frowning alessia glanced at the clock, she wasn't expecting anyone and she didn't think she was expecting a delivery.

wiping her hands on a towel quickly, so she could head towards the door. but leah called out she would get it.

hearing the door open and leah's voice, alessia went back to her original task — folding washing.

"hey, can i help you?" leah's voice was sharp and defensive in a way alessia had rarely heard.

"h-hi. uh..." a familiar voice faltered, hearing the confused tone of leah's voice alessia made her way towards the front door.

harrison was stood in front of leah, a bouquet of flowers in his hand all pretty colours and different types of flowers. but instead of the easy and confident grin he usually wore, his expression was tense and bordering on confused.

his gaze kept flickering from leah and the house number plated on the side of the wall near the door, wondering whether he'd accidentally knocked on the wrong door. even though he was definitely sure this was alessia's house as her car was on the drive.

"is.. is alessia here?" he finally stammered, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to make sense of the situation.

leah stood frozen in the doorway, her tall frame and sharp demeanor giving her an almost intimidating presence. the blonde glancing over her shoulder feeling the presence of alessia behind her.

leah's brow rising as if to say, 'what the hell is this?'

"harrison," alessia asked quirking, stepping beside leah who still had an unimpressed look on her face, "what are you doing here, i thought we agreed we were meeting at half two before lovie finishes school?"

his eyes lit up briefly at the sight of her, though they flickered back to leah with a mix of wariness and confusion, "yeah we're still- um good for that, i just, uh i brought you these," he said, holding out the flowers.

"for me?" alessia's voice was soft but edged with surprise.

"yeah, i seen them and i was passing and thought..." harrison trailed off, his face darting back to leah who hadn't moved, nor had her stone cold face.

leah finally broke her silence, tilting her head slightly, "you're harrison?" it wasn't a question. it was a statement delivered in a tone that made harrison shift slightly on his feet.

"i am." he said, his voice low. leah’s lips pressed into a thin line, her arms crossing of her chest as she held her stance solid and protective.

alessia sighed, sensing the tension in the air thickening, "le," alessia said softly, touching her arm, "it's okay."

leah's eyes never left harrison her jaw tightening with each letter that passed, "okay?" she echoed. "he shows up with flowers unannounced? for you?"

harrison took a small step back, clearing his throat, "i uh, didn't meant to interrupt anything, i just.."

"leah" alessia said again, more firmly this time, "it's fine, harrison's just being.. nice." she turns to harrison her tone shifting to something polite but still distant, knowing choosing the wrong type of word would have consequences on both parties.

"thank you for these, but you didn't need to"

harrison nodded, his expression faltering slightly as he glanced between the two women, "right, yeah sorry i didn't mean to.."

leah raised an eyebrow, "didn't mean what?"

"leah, stop that" alessia stepped in front of her slightly her voice filled with a mix of exasperation and affection. "it's fine, really. harrison is just trying to.. build trust." she shot him a pointed look, silently warning him to stay in his lane. "he's lovie's dad, that's all this is."

harrison quickly nodded, clutching the flowers awkwardly, "yeah, exactly."

leah's gaze lingered on him for another moment, scrutinising before she finally stepped aside, "right." she said her tone icy but controlled.

alessia reached out to take the flowers, giving harrison a small, polite smile. "thank you," she said before adding, "but next time, maybe text me first, okay?"

"sure," harrison mumbled, his shoulders slumping.

"i'll see you at the coffee place at half two yeah?" alessia asked more confirming the plans knowing that you were excited at the fact you dad was coming with your mummy for the first time to pick you up from school, the blonde hoping he wasn't going to let you down.

harrison nodded, before mumbling a 'i'll be there' with a small smile as he gave leah one last uneasy glance before turning and walking back to his car.

leah shut the door with a firm cluck, spinning around to face alessia, "what was that?"

alessia chuckled softly, setting the flowers down on the kitchen counter, "that was harrison, overstepping. as usual."

"overstepping?" leah echoed as she crossed her arms again leaned against the kitchen counter on the other side of alessia, "he showed up like he's auditioning for the notebook-"

"he's not auditioning for anything," alessia said gently facing and stepping closer to leah, "he's just.. trying. for lovie's sake, that's it" 

leah's eyes softened slightly at the mention of you but her lips still pursed, "and for your sake?"

alessia reached up as she leaned into the blonde in front of her as she rested a hand on leah's cheek, "i only want you, harrison can bring flowers, coffee or a while marching band if he wants. but it won't change a thing."

leah relaxed at her words, exhaling deeply as alessia planted a slow kiss to her lips, "okay" she murmured.

"okay?" alessia teased her tone lighter and teasing smile on her lips as her hands rested on the blondes face.

"okay, but don't expect those flowers to be still alive when you come back" leah smirked as alessia rolled her eyes playfully at the girls' antics, "and it still keeping an eye on him."

"you do that love" alessia said with a laugh, pulling her into a hug.

—

later on the same day, once leah had let go of the blonde after insisting she was never letting her go. but after a small reminder from alessia that she did in fact have a four year old daughter she did have to collect from school, leah let the blonde go not before peppering the girls' face with kisses.

alessia making it to the cafe, a little later which she would just blame on the traffic even though the roads for once were fairly quiet considering it was london.

the cafe was want and inviting, the smell of roasted coffee beans filling the air as alessia and harrison settled into their usual booth near the window.

alessia holding her latte between her hands, the ceramic mug radiating heat as she stared at the frothy surface.

harrison fidgeting without even realising he was doing it a habit he had, had since their college days as he rambled on about some marketing strategy he was working on at work — alessia admittedly not really listening.

"look, haz before we talk about anything else" alessia began, cutting harrison off as his head tilted at the sound of the nickname he hadn't heard in a while, the blonde not even realising she had let it slip as she carried on talking. but he noticed.

the blondes voice soft as harrison had completely forgotten what he had even been talking about, "i just wanna say i'm sorry for before. leah can be.. uh intense but she's really a big softie once you get to know her"

harrison let out a small, humourless laugh, finally looking at her, "yeah she is a little intimidating"

alessia winced, "she's just protective," she said quickly, "it's not that she doesn't trust me but she's had.. experiences. people haven't always treated her well and i think you showing up like that just put her on edge a bit"

he raised an eyebrow, confused. clearly not getting the hint, "because i brought flowers?"

she gave him a pointed look, "come on, harrison. you didn't just bring flowers — you showed up unannounced with a big bouquet of flowers and that look you get when you're trying to.." she trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence

"trying to what?" he pressed, though the tone of his voice made it clear he already knew.

alessia sighed, setting her mug down. "harrison, leah doesn't know you like i do. she doesn't know your history or your intentions. all she saw my ex standing on my doorstep with flowers and.. yeah, she got the wrong idea."

"but was it the wrong idea?" he asked softly, his gaze steady. alessia having already lifted her cup to her lips as her eyes widened at his words.

she blinked, as her head tilted to one side the blonde caught of guard. "harrison."

"i mean, maybe she has a point," he continued, leaning back in the booth, again clearly not getting the hint, "i brought the flowers because i wanted.. i don't know. start over? show you i'm serious about being in your life again, not just as y/n's dad."

alessia's chest tightened but she kept her tone calm. "i appreciate the effort, i do but harrison i need you to understand something."

he leaned forward slightly, his hands still on the table. "i'm listening."

taking a deep breath, choosing her words carefully, "those times we had in college — they were good even when the bad was bad and times were a little messy and they are part of our story and i wouldn't change that. but we can't go back to that harrison. we aren't those people anymore."

he stared at her, his expression unreadable, "so what your saying is you've moved on." he said finally.

"i have" alessia nodded, her eyes meeting his, "with leah."

harrison's gaze dropped to the table, his shoulders slumping. "i-i didn't mean to complicate things for you, i just.. i don't know. i though maybe we could try again. for y/n if nothing else."

"i get that," alessia said gently, "but that's not what lovie needs. she doesn't need us to pretend to be something we're not, plus she's a smart little girl she'd clock straight away. what she needs is two parents who love her and respect each other. that's how we're going to do right by her."

he nodded slowly, his hands curling into loose fists. "you're right, i don't know what i was thinking" he let out a quiet laugh a one filled with regret. "i'm happy for you, less. really and i'll forever owe you for letting me be in my daughters life."

"damn right you do" alessia joked, but deep down she was really joking as a small smile tugging at her lips.

harrison chuckled, shaking his head, "she's lucky to have you, both of you. really"

alessia softened, reaching across the table to touch his hand briefly, "thanks harrison and i mean it - your doing great. lovie loves spending time with you and i’m glad we can be in a good place and put aside the past for her.

harrison smiled faintly, nodding again, "me too."

as they finished their coffee and prepared to pick up lovie, alessia felt a sense of peace. she had said what needed to be said and though harrison's feelings lingered. there was an understanding between them now.

—

alessia padded down the stairs, running a hand though her hair as she entered the living room. "well that didn't take long," she said with a chuckle, glancing towards leah who was sprawled across the couch her eyes just open as she scrolled tiredly on her phone.

"i might have to ask the school what they do all day to tire her out like that" alessia joked, the excitement of the day had really gone and worn you out, from the excitement of your mum and dad picking you up to then getting home and leah being there.

it had to of been a record of how quickly it took for you to get to sleep, your head basically hit the pillow and you were asleep.

leah only hummed in response, her eyes focused on the small screen in front of her eyes, the tv playing as white noise for her. "probably running around like a little whirlwind" she murmured absently.

"more than likely" alessia said, plopping down next to her as she leaned back with a content sigh as leah rested her legs on top alessia's lap.

there was a bear of silence before leah finally glanced up, setting her phone down on her chest. "so.. how was coffee with harrison" her voice was casual but there was a hint of something underneath as she asked.

alessia stilled for a moment, caught off guard by the question, "it was.. nice" she said carefully, avoiding leah's gaze as she reached for the throw blanket draped over the couch.

she didn't have to look to feel leah's eyes in her. so when alessia finally glanced over, leah's expression had shifted. her jaw was tight and her brows slightly furrowed as her lips were pressed into a thin line.

alessia sighed, setting the blanket aside, "le.." she said her tone soft but firm, "seriously? your not still hung up on this whole harrison thing are you?"

leah shrugged, sinking a little deeper into the couch, "i'm just saying.. it's weird right? he's popping up with flowers one day, coffee the next. what's his deal?"

alessia leaned closer, resting a hand on leah's hip. "his deal is that he's lovie's dad and he's trying to be better about being present in her life. that's it."

leah's eyes flicked up to meet hers, "that's not all, though is it? you said yourself he's overstepping and i mean — come on less, he's obviously still has feelings for you."

alessia sighed, shifting so she was fully facing leah as she propped herself up on her elbows, "okay look, yes harrison has some.. unresolved feelings but i told him we aren't ever, ever getting back together"

leah's brow lifted slightly, "you did?"

"i did," alessia said firmly, "over coffee before we picked lovie up. i told him that those days are done and i made it very clear that i'm with you."

leah's shoulders slumped slightly, though her expression remained guarded, "and how’d he take that."

"honestly, better than i expected him to," alessia admitted, "he apologised and said he was happy for me" she paused studying leah's face." "but this isn't about him is it, it's about us."

leah let out a sigh, her eyes darting away from alessia's to look further than the pretty blonde laying basically on top of her, "i just don't want to lose you less," she admitted softly, "i've seen too many people get pulled back into their pasts and i.. i don't know it scares me."

"hey.. hey, look at me" alessia said gently moving to so that she was able to touch leah's face and move it so her eyes could look at her before cupping leah's face with both hands. "your not losing me. and i’m not going anywhere. harrison is part of my past but you're my present, and my future."

leah hesitated a moment, her blue eyes searching for alessia's face for a long minute, "you sure about that?"

"very sure," alessia said without missing a beat, leaning in to press a soft kiss to leah's lips as she moved to straddle the girls' hips, leah's hands immediately going to alessia's waist and a little further as the kiss deepened.

"it's you le, always you. no one else even come close" alessia whispered against leah's lips as she exhaled slowly. her body relaxing as she felt her lips meet alessia's again. this lip longer and a little more sloppier as small hushed whines stumbled from their lips.

as they pulled apart, leah's lips curled into a small and reluctant smile, "you really know how to make a girl feel better, huh?" leah teased lightly.

alessia grinned as the two cosied up together on the couch, alessia wrapping her arms arong leah and pulling her close, "i've been told it's one of my many talents !"

"is that so? what are these other talents you have?"

"wouldn't you like to know babe!"

[bluem1lls]

Hii :3 I also miss se-mi a lot and I really want to see more content about her. Could I ask for sub!se-mi maybe? Besides being curious, I'm also quite upset by the little content about sub!squid game and i miss my wife se-mi so pleaseee 🙇🏽‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️

✧₊⁺ a little help

se-mi x fem!reader

✦ synopsis: your girlfriend is having a hard time studying.. all you wanna do is help her.

content: minors dni, dom!reader x sub!se-mi, fingering/oral (se-mi!receiving), vibrator

authors note: hiii! i've never wrote any of my fave characters as sub so i hope u like this?? thank u for your request!

"fuck it" se-mi said, frustrated.

"baby.. you're doing so good, keep going"

"i can't princess i want to but i really can't"

"se-mi.. you need to study" i rolled my eyes, laughing, as she rested the papers on her face, reclining against her chair.

"i'm done. i need a break" she said as she stood up, placing the papers on the desk. she grabs my face to kiss me.

i shock my head no as she kisses my entire face, making me laugh as i softly pushed her off.

"baby no. i'm serious. you know you can pass this test and we had plenty of breaks" i said staring at the mcdonald's bags resting on the floor.

oh. wait.

i'm a genius.

"sit" i ordered as she raised one brow.

she chuckles.

"sit dumbass, i'm serious" i said, pushing her to the chair as she stared at me, confused.

i kneel in front of her as i grab the flashcards. i get in between her legs, my chin resting on her inner thighs.

"okay so, when does a substance generates heat?"

"um..l-liquid to solid?"

"yes! good baby!" i smirked. my hands going to her black jeans, undoing the zipper and pulling them until they're out. she stares at me doe eyed, the outline of her pussy in display through her boxers. i can see a wet patch starting to form.

"already getting wet baby?" i smirked as she turned her gaze, embarrassed. "we haven't even started"

i smirk as she rolls her eyes and i give a slap to her thigh.

"focus, so ummm.. which element has exactly five electrons in the highest principal energy level?" i say, reading the flashcard as i stare into her eyes.

"the..um-i-i cant think when you're betw-"

"focus baby. which element?" i repeat the question.

"P.. it's P" she says.

"such a smart girl"

i open her legs, my mouth softly tracing kisses on her inner thigh until it reaches that wet spot.

i deposit open-mouthed kisses to her clothed covered clit, as she sighs, her hand rushes to pull my hair.

my tongue gives kitten licks over her boxers, creating a bigger wet patch as she quietly moans. she pulls me closer. i'm sure that if i pull her boxers down, they have her arousal all over. i smirk at the thought.

"ple-plea-"

"so.. let's keep going" i say, leaning backwards, going back to resting in between her inner thighs as she groans.

"baby-"

"for a chemical reaction it is usually found that the reaction rate is faster at higher temperature. the rate increases because?"

"what do i get if i answer correctly?"

"focus" i softly slap her cheek. "we're studying. remember?"

she bites her lip.

"more reactants collide with.."

i hum.

"um with... energy equal to or greater than the activation energy?"

"good" my hands pull the elastic band of her boxers, she excitedly pushes them down to her ankles.

i laugh at her desperation. my fingertips trace over her wet folds, as she bucks her hips into my hand. a moans leaves her pouty lips.

"say please baby" i whisper.

"please" she begs.

"beg once more?"

"please please please" she cries, moaning as my tongue attacks her clit.

up and down, in circles i move over her clit, her moans are all i hear in the room.

as i pull away, my fingers slide through her salivated cunt, spreading the wetness, slowly going to her aching hole.

she cups my face, kissing me as i introduce two fingers in her. she whines against my mouth.

"such a good girl. you're my girl am i right?" she quickly nods.

my fingers thrust again and again, scissoring moves inside of her as her moans go louder and louder. she's such a needy girl.

kneeling down, my mouth on her. my face buried in her pussy.

"f-fuck im-"she huffs.

my tongue moves on her clit as my fingers curl inside of her, touching that spongy spot that makes her whimper.

"please-yeah just like that" her eyes roll backwards as i slammed into her.

i can hear the squelching noises her cunt makes, becoming wetter as she rides my fingers. my mouth in her clit, kissing it, licking it.

"i'm so close, i'm so close" she says, her hands pull my hair tighter.

"nu-huh." i pull away. leaving her confused. she stares at me as she stutters.

"what?..."

she throws her head back, her eyes shut close from the pleasure, her mouth hangs open.

moans keep slipping out as i press the bullet vibrator on her clit.

"my needy girl" i grin as she grinds her hips against my hand.

"i'm so close, please let me cum, let me cum" she cries as her hands grip the armrest.

as i set it higher, she whimpers over and over until i plunge two fingers into her, making her release a loud moan.

i feel her pulsating cunt clench on my fingers as she cums. tears stream down her cheeks, her body twitches as she gasps. her thighs trap my hand in between her legs as she rides my fingers again, to make her orgasm last even longer.

i remove my fingers as she whines, feeling the lost of them inside her.

i quickly open her legs, putting aside the vibrator as my mouth licks her clean. she tries to close them as my hands prohibit. i taste her in my mouth, hearing her whimpers.

once i'm done, i place my fingers on my mouth, cleaning them with my tongue as she stares with her hooded eyes. she's panting, her cheeks are flushed and her mouth is open.

her lips leave a soft sigh escape her mouth as i kiss her forehead. her hair sticking to it from sweat.

"my sweet girl" i murmur.

"i can't study now. i need a break... and cuddles" she says, making me chuckle.

"okay, we study later?" i say as she smirks.

"like we just did? yes. please"

[agnireed]

THINGS UNSAID

summary 🏹 others notice what you and daryl feel for eachother but it takes longer for the connection to reach the two of you.

word count 🏹 4.8k

warnings 🏹 large age gap, side character POVs at the start, smut lol

thanks to @irisdixon1023 for the fun idea! hope i did it justice even if i changed somethings

There were plenty of events that you had found yourself in the background of throughout the apocalypse. 

You’d had to put things together at the drop of an eye because there were some questions you just didn’t ask. You didn’t need to be told the new man approaching camp was Carl’s father, evident enough by the way his mouth dropped open and Lori’s eyes flashed with hot fear and betrayal.

That unfolded in your mind exactly the same way as when you saw Shane come back from the woods with a busted nose and a manic look so intense it almost took your breath away, something cold and knowing settling in your gut but not quite strong enough for you to accuse him of planning anything. 

You never put much thought into how you might come across to somebody just observing new people you’ve met on the road that might be making their own judgements on you. The end of the world had brought one relief and that was from the constant thought about your own presentation and what a stranger might think of you. 

These already drawn conclusions were exactly the reason you were so confused with yourself for being so absorbed with why the red headed man kept glancing in your direction.

Truthly Abraham had never been somebody who bothered sugarcoating his words and pretending to be something he was not and that included being the type of person who was extremely curious about a certain dynamic he had seen unfolding in front of him.

He had only spent a few hours with you in the train car but he had managed to make a damn near solid case if he did say so himself and he was juggling with how much it was being challenged as soon as a few more bodies were thrown into the mix.

Both of you had looked worse for wear when his team found you alongside the gravely road, Glenn barely standing upright as they approached and then fully face planting the asphalt while you stared at him with a look that seemed to be a mixture of exhaustion and determination.

You kept your sentences short and sweet while Glenn was unconscious and you climbed into the back of the large truck but Abraham had a hard time being upset about your lack of manners considering you’d clearly been through hell's asshole before they had arrived. 

His plans continued to be derailed and you proved to be a serious pain in the behind but he had felt strongly enough about his people reading to assume that you were one of two things, either just a bit slow emotionally or completely in love with the man you were traveling with.

Of course he felt only a bit disgruntled when said man actually woke up and spoke only of a loving wife that he clearly would stop at nothing to find in a very large haystack but then that could explain the heartbroken look you wouldn’t stop carrying around.

It made full sense to him that you were in love with a taken man and so desperately that you were willing to risk your life to help him be happy with somebody else so he was now fully offended when he offered this idea to Glenn one night after you’d fallen asleep, just for him to laugh in his face.

Then you had been thrown into the traincar and you suddenly took on a heavy expression of grief, like you had only just now accepted you were not going to find whatever it was that you were looking for. He had figured beforehand that you had lost someone permanently but apparently you had a mission of your own. 

When the doors were opening again, this time he was happy to be an observer.

The two men entering the car looked equally as deadly as you had standing on that road side and ready to go to war for your friend's limp body and he almost pieced together they were a part of your larger group before any of you actually had turned to notice them.

Everybody tensed at the same time and then it felt like the air in the train car suddenly got much lighter. 

You’d barely looked at the bearded man that seemed to automatically capture everybody's attention first, almost like they were waiting for him to give them a command before they even processed he was standing in front of them again.

Your eyes were stuck on someone else entirely and he was happy to finally have some entertainment after being sat next to a mumbling Eugene for far too many hours. 

He didn’t need a lick of guessing to know what type of man the second was and he almost wanted to have his guard farther up if it wasn’t for the young boy beside him, peering around with big scared eyes. (Plus the fact he had come to respect you and the sight of you staring like the rugged man had hung the stars was good enough reason to relax).

The bearded man seemed to finally notice you standing there and he gave you an overwhelmingly fatherlike look, seeming like he wanted to pull you into a hug but deciding against it for reasons Abraham couldn’t quite figure out just yet.

His counterpart didn’t have the same problem and you let out a sob when he finally looked over to you, his entire tense frame melting like a little kid as he stumbled his way through the dark train car so he could fall against you.

You cradled his head like it was the single most important thing in the world and your friends around you seemed like they were suddenly walking on eggshells to avoid disturbing you and making you pull out of the emotional moment. 

First assumption was that you were related in some way but that quickly faded when he noticed the way the man had his hands low on your back, squeezing and pulling you closer and closer like he could feel you slipping through his fingers.

There was nothing overtly romantic about it and certainly not sexual, not with the way you sobbed harder seeing his bruised face and sullen expression, but it definitely was too close for comfort if you were father and daughter adjacent.

Second assumption was gone as fast as it came, absolutely not lovers judging by the way you were quick to stumble out of his grasp as soon as you noticed Maggie and Glenn watching curiously, his hands lingering but eventually having to fall back to his side once you were out of reaching distance.

You made haste to hug the young boy and distract yourself from the blatant showcase of something that most likely was a secret, both to each other and the others but possibly to yourselves.

The man didn’t take his eyes off of you the entire time you all sat there devising a plan and you sobbed like a woman scorned when they were throwing flash bangs inside the car before dragging him away, having to send a swift kick to your ribs to get you to let go of his arm. 

Abraham observed a scary switch in you now that he was gone again and the small almost fragile girl from before was once again replaced with the silent and constantly armed one, all emotions stripped down to your bare bones until you were left with instinct alone. 

He kept watching your group during the days that followed the fall of Terminus, building up his strongly held opinions on each of them individually and then again in pairs and larger clumps. He couldn’t help the fact that you and Daryl struck his interest, boredom taking over for the most part although Rostia had told him he needed to get a better hobby.

It was impossible not to wonder now that he knew more about the two of you, although he’d yet to speak to your male counterpart. There was a large part of him that figured it wouldn’t end too pleasantly and he was halfway busy with sucking up to you all so you’d accompany him to the end of the line for Eugene and the cure.

So he didn’t pick a fight with the archer although he wasn’t sure you would have allowed it anyways.

You were small in size but he had managed to get a few glimpses of what you could do with rage and a blunt wooden stick alone back at Terminus so he wasn’t particularly interested in seeing how you fared with a knife.

You were constantly next to Daryl and it was almost a foreign sight to see one of you without the other, a strange feeling settling over anyone whenever you’d wander in alone or the rare times he went hunting without you.

There was a glint in your eye whenever somebody talked to you, like you were ready to pounce on your own family members if you needed to just to keep the man next to you safe at all cost. He was halfway to asking Maggie if you had been like that before you were separated or if it was a new adjustment but he decided against it when he saw her fondly holding Rick’s baby.

He was finding it a bit ridiculous that there were so many moving parts in your poorly oiled machine yet it was running smoothly and, not only that, but you actually seemed to love and care about each other beyond means of survival.

Abraham decided it wasn’t any of his business anymore as soon as he ruled you and Daryl off the list of potential people who would come along on his mission, pushing you to the back of his mind to will off any distractions.

_____

Maggie had always known there was something lingering deep in you for the older man but she was quickly realizing she didn’t know the half of it apparently because the way you gripped onto him for dear life was extremely telling.

She was already surprised enough that you had practically leapt into his arms but what really struck her was how willing he was to fold over into you and meet your sobs with cries of his own.

She knew Daryl was more than what he looked like, more than what he even said most of the time but that still didn’t mean he was ever this open and vulnerable around any of them before. Even Rick sent her a thrown off look that she fought hard in the few seconds it lasted to try and understand.

Your mood had been sour for the time it took you all to find Terminus after reuniting her and Glenn but there were a thousand things she would’ve guessed as the cause of it before assuming you were mourning Daryl Dixon.

Maybe she had been blinded by her own worries and the blossoming of her love so she didn’t pay attention to the signs or maybe they were just new but they were impossible to ignore now although every one seemed to be trying their very best.

Did he always hand you your portion of food first, followed by sneaking bites of his own onto your plate when you both pretended you weren’t watching him do it?

Had it always been almost instinct that you would fall asleep next to each other, never touching but close enough to touch if you ever just reached out? She was thinking now that she wasn’t sure you slept the entire time you spent on the tracks, always awake on a watch shift when she drifted off and staring into the dying fire by the time she opened her eyes again.

Yet you seemed to have no problem drifting off with your head on Daryl’s shoulder.

When did Daryl stop flinching under your touch and since when were you so touchy anyways? Your hands were almost constantly rubbing up and down his arm or holding onto his wrist like you were stopping him from leaving except he didn’t seem to ever be going anywhere, not from you at least.

She wondered if you always looked so calm and gentle when peering up at him or if that was also a new development. She couldn’t read his gaze back down on you and she wasn’t really sure she wanted to, feeling guilty about her silent spying.

Glenn told her that it wasn’t a big deal and everybody people watched but he also denied seeing anything between the two of you so either he was lying to make her feel better or he simply wasn’t watching hard enough. 

There wasn’t anything wrong with the age difference in her mind but she still occasionally caught Rick sending the two of you glances and she almost hoped it was just his fatherly urge to protect you like he always had.

_____

You could tell something had changed between you and Daryl but you weren’t too focused on defining whatever it was. 

He had always been the number one person you paid attention to and you couldn’t stop thinking about him your entire stay at the prison but the pain of losing him and thinking it was for forever was clearly the push you needed to never let him forget this again, even though you hadn’t told him directly.

There was no way he didn’t know how you felt when you stared into his eyes and kept your hand on his chest, whispering lowly how happy you were for him to be back with you. He would have to truly be the dimmest person in the world to think your reaction to seeing him again was just a fluke or you not thinking straight. 

Daryl must be aware of how you feel because you don’t think he would risk treating you the way he did if he didn’t.

He was sweet to you and doted on you like you were already lovers and his favoritism was apparent to anybody who paid attention for more than a few minutes. He remained as gruff and abrasive as always but he let you brush the hair from his face and his tone sounded far sweeter aimed towards you.

You knew he had feelings for you and you also knew he wouldn’t let you in on that secret unless he suspected you felt similarly.

“Couldn’t even breathe.” You had found yourself outside the stuffy church together again, somewhere just off in the treeline and leaning against a thick tree stump.

His back was pressed into the bark but your own was against his chest, sat on the drying leaves between his spread legs and laying back on him, his hands resting skillfully next to your thighs so he wasn’t touching you too directly.

“Hm?” His hum was low and sweet and you noted that he sounded like he was drifting off to 

sleep, a light smile on your face at his abandoned defensive walls even though the topic of conversation was rather heavy.

“I pictured them all going one way or another but not you, never ever you.” You picked one of his hands off the ground so you could hold it in your own, resting in the air above your stomach as you smoothed over his rough calloused skin and traced shapes on his palm.

He said nothing when you sighed and relaxed your limbs again, this time with his hand landing on your stomach and being enclosed by yours so he couldn’t remove it so easily. You could feel his heartbeat pick up on your back and your mouth turned up with fondness. 

You didn’t need him to remind you for the hundredth time that he hadn’t gone anywhere and he was still right here with you but it was still nice to hear him grumble it in his low voice, almost a shy whisper that you had to preen to hear.

Daryl may have needed to actually feel the effect of your death before he started to slowly showcase his affectionate side but you thought it was well worth the wait, feeling beyond grateful that he hadn’t pulled away from your clinginess yet.

You figured it would just be a few days of needing him close to process that he wasn’t gone after first losing him in the smoke of the prison and then watching him get ripped away in a similar fog as soon as you had him back finally but days turned into weeks and you were still trying to find a way to silence the ache.

His heart was only picking up in speed when you were using your hand to move his slowly, so slow you could barely tell it was going anywhere at all. You pushed it until his pinky finger was under the button of your small jean shorts and you paused when you heard his breath stutter.

Part of you wanted to turn back and check his expression, make sure this was something that he wanted but you couldn’t gather the courage. Instead you sat there with your hands like that and you felt a jolt of electricity when he was moving his hand on his own.

You didn’t let it get far, barely brushing the hem of your underwear before you were swiftly sitting up in a way that clearly startled him.

He didn’t have long to overthink and wonder if he had misread the situation because now you were on your knees in between his spread legs, as close as you could get and swaying forward like you were going to lay on his chest again.

The reality was much different than he expected and lifetimes better, your lips slotting against his and automatically drawing a high pitched sound from you. There had been countless times Daryl wondered what you sounded like and the knowledge was seering itself into his brain now, longing to bring more out of you.

Your hands were on his face and you were scrambling forward so you could be sat in his lap, legs on either side of his waist as you desperately leaned into the kiss. He was easily matching your pace and you felt an overwhelming heat when you heard him groan into your mouth.

“Daryl.” The sound of his name in that tone was enough to make anybody insane and his hands on your body proved it, one hand on your lower back but the other directly touching those godforsaken jean shorts you wore.

They were poor excuses for fabric and there had been a dozen times when you'd bent over in front of him long enough for him to catch a glimpse of your panties underneath, long enough for him to run a hand over his face and disappear into the guard tower for a few hours.

Now there was no reason to pretend he wasn’t looking at you, wasn’t running his rough hands over your perfectly smooth and innocent body. That seemed to be the only innocent thing about you considering your hips were starting to rock in his lap, just slow enough to make his head spin dangerously.

His big hands were both cupping your ass now and helping you move against him, loving the way you could barely kiss him as you struggled to hold your whines in.

“Feels so good.” You sounded absolutely pathetic and wrecked and he knew right then and there that he was truly perverted, grunting into your open mouth and thrusting his hips up to make you really feel him against your sensitive core. One of your hands had been running through his hair and you tugged at the feeling, crying out in surprise. 

“Cmon sweetheart.” His voice was so low and raspy, vibrations going straight to your core and making you rock harder against him. 

Your lips were swollen and wet when you moved them from his mouth down to his jaw, sucking and biting the skin wherever you could and making sure he was grunting straight into your ear so you could commit the sounds to memory.

He barely flinched when you sat up to pull your tank top off, a bit too hasty considering it was getting stuck on your arms for a second and he had to help you, eyes hazy when your head finally emerged and he could really look at you,

You felt touched that he watched your eyes for a few heavy breaths before he even bothered to let his gaze move down to your bare chest, rising and falling with your nipples standing at attention off his stare alone. His hands weren't wasting any time before gently cupping your soft mounds and your mouth parted in another high whine at the feeling.

Hips moving slower but still just as addicting, you were letting him worship your tits and really take his time memorizing the way your body looked on top of his like this.

Daryl had pictured you in a hundred scenarios that brought shame to his core and sometimes the disgust was enough to bury it back down but more often than not, he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted this no matter how wrong it may be.

“No idea how much I thought about these hands.” Your voice was the highest pitch he’d ever heard and you were softly stuttering through your words like you’d forgotten where to place them, hand back in his hair and trying to be sly with the way you were moving his head downwards. “This mouth.. f-fuck.”

He may not be the most experienced, certainly not with girls as young and pretty as you but Daryl wasn’t as idiot. It was almost second nature to wrap his mouth around your nipple once he understood that’s what you were silently asking for, his entire arm wrapping around your back to keep you locked in place.

His muscles flexed when you made an extra loud sound and you suddenly remembered just how strong he really was, capable of really doing some damage to you right now if he decided that’s what he wanted. The thought sent heat further through you and you gasped out his name in repeated cries.

You were fully humping against him now and trying to get as much pressure on your core as you could but he was firm in his hold on your middle, practically making out with your tits in a way that was so lewd and filthy you felt lightheaded. 

“I need more.” You were desperate now and on the verge of a sob, yanking on his hair impatiently and immediately diving into a nasty kiss the second he lifted his head to glare at you. Your tongue was so deep in his mouth he was able to fully suck on it, low sounds leaving him constantly now. 

You hadn’t even realized you were falling until you hit the ground with his heavy frame falling over you, spreading your legs so he could slot himself between them easily.

“F-fuck you’re so hard.” You knew you sounded beyond fucked out already just from some dirty kissing but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. Although you clearly didn’t need to considering you weren’t at all exaggerating and Daryl was fully hard and moving his core against yours like he couldn’t stop himself. 

“Pretty little thing.” His lack of vocalization didn’t bother you, not expecting it from him in the first place but you were almost grateful for his silence because it made every word he did say sound so much sweeter. 

Daryl had never complimented you so directly before and it sounded ridiculous to flush over him calling you pretty while you were laying in the leaves, bare chest out and his hard on rubbing against you but it still made your body warm in a much purer heat than the rest of your body.

He did everything in his life with an aged roughness you had realized a long time ago, hands weapons even when he didn’t mean for them to be and even when it ate him up inside afterwards so you felt particularly touched that he had a gentle grasp on your ribs and hip like he was terrified of hurting you. 

Although the thought of him hurting you did light something deep inside of you on fire but you decided to push that away and deal with it another time, slowing down your kisses once he started to fidget with the button and zipper on your shorts.

It was quick to go from dirty to romantic and you were grateful for the change even though you enjoyed the former just as much, the longing in your heart for a real sign that he felt similarly being slightly fulfilled when he was moving a hand to cup your cheek and really pay attention to the softer kiss. 

You could tell he found amusement in his own patience bringing forth the opposite in you, a whiny annoyed noise leaving you as you started to tug at his belt impatiently and try to get him to resume what he was doing before you distracted him.

“Take it easy girl.” He was so close and the whispered words, light and affectionate enough that you almost forgot how lewd you were currently, made your eyes widened as you stared up at him hovering over you. 

He made eye contact with you for only a brief second before he was looking away and you could see a heavy shyness in him that was directly opposite to the way he was pulling your shorts down your thighs and touching you before you’d even felt the wet air on your core.

Your breath caught in your throat and you wrapped your hands around his back, resting on his shoulder blades and you knew his vest would have the shape of your fingernails indented in the leather for a long time to come.

The low humming noise he was making against your neck seemed to be approval towards your neverending wetness and you were letting out a breathy laugh of pure hazy disbelief when you felt the head of his hard cock pressing against you. 

You could hear him softly shushing you in a soothing manner, trying to get you to relax enough that he could actually push inside without seriously hurting you. You wondered if he could tell you had never done this before, suddenly self conscious that your inexperience was radiating off of you.

Unknown to you, he was thinking the same thing about himself and hoping you couldn’t feel the way his entire body was tensing to stop from pushing in before you were ready out of pure desperation that only you could bring out of him. It was hard not to act like a horny teenager when you were panting like you were getting fucked hard just from him touching your tits.

The combination was deadly and the sound he made when he started to actually fuck you was even worse, damn near ending your life then and there just to be immediately brought back when you felt the hot pain between your legs.

Now your pants were telling a different story and he did his best to slow down and let you get used to the sheer size of him stretching you out, not realizing the way your pupils were dilating and you were purposefully tightening your legs around his waist.

“M-more.” You were begging now as the pain started to go down and he gave you a look that told you he thought you were crazy, eyebrows furrowed as he started to shake his head in disagreement. “Please Daryl love it so much, hurts so good.”

That seemed to silence both the man above you and the entire forest, his body stiffening for a few seconds too long and your heart started to race with something not as nice as the flirty nervousness you normally felt around him.

You almost opened your mouth to apologize to him for making him uncomfortable, try to explain yourself and why you liked something like that without actually knowing the reason yourself. Instead your lips parted with another high whine when he started to move, clearly getting over whatever had made him pause and making it his personal mission to give you exactly what you wanted.

Daryl would never leave your sight again and you would stop at nothing to make sure of that so you had plenty of time for gentle, endless days to fill with romance and soft kisses that made your cheeks red. Today, however, was going to be reserved for something else entirely and you could’ve truly died happy there on the leaves with him on top of you. 

[squidwriting]

#1: Welcome To The Team

✁ — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

⇥ Synopsis After a terrible accident, you had lost your memory. After years of struggling with your identity, a lucky coincidence brought everything back - only to find your life in shambles, and your husband missing.

⇥ Pairing Hwang In-ho x fem!reader

⇥ Warnings Spoilers for Season 1 & 2, angst, violence, graphic descriptions of injuries & death

⇥ A/N: Changed In-ho's backstory (obviously lul) so no spoilers there. :3 Hope you enjoy! 💕

⇥ Masterlist | [#2]

✁ — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"Come again..?"

Your voice was barely above a whisper. Jun-ho's story was as grotesque as it was unbelievable. There was no proof, no way to know if he was actually telling the truth. On the other hand, Jun-ho has never lied to you. He had been there ever since you woke up from your coma.

"What is it your not telling me?" you asked quietly, searching his face with your eyes. You had known him ever since he was a little boy. You knew when he was lying - or hiding something.

"Hyung didn't just participate in the games. He...," Jun-ho swallowed thickly, averting his gaze, "...became a part of it. He's the leader now."

The conversation replayed in your mind as you watched Player 456 talk with the man in question: Player 001, Hwang In-ho - your husband of almost 20 years.

Jun-ho had obviously opposed your idea of joining the games. But you were too stubborn to listen to him, too stubborn for your own good. That's what In-ho always said anyway. Maybe he was right. Still, you lost almost ten years of your life to amnesia. If there was even the slightest chance for a way back to how things were... you would take it.

Ryuk Su-Yun. That was the name you chose for the registration. The name you had chosen after you left the hospital to start over, away from everything and everyone you knew - well, except for Jun-ho. You attempted to cut ties with him several times, too ashamed to let him in, when you absolutely refused to see your husband. But Jun-ho was persistent - even more so than you were.

You pushed the rice around in the tin lazily, thinking about your current situation. Thanks to Player 456, you survived the first game without a scratch. It would probably be wise to stick close to him going forward. Then again, that meant you had to face In-ho sooner or later.

A loud commotion ripped you out of your train of thoughts. Looking up, you found In-ho confronting two players who were ganging up on a third one. In a matter of seconds, the two bullies were silenced and groaning in pain, rolling on the floor dramatically. You bit your lip, trying not to chuckle. In-ho had always been a savage when dealing with bullies. The room erupted in applause, with him being the center of attention. You looked up slowly and found him staring directly at you. His face was like a mask, showing no emotion, betraying no thought of his. Swallowing thickly, you forced yourself to smile at him quickly, before immediately turning your attention back to your lunch.

Sleep did not come easy to you that night. In-ho had not approached you after the incident - and you thought about what to do when you two would eventually come face to face.

Funnily enough, you never thought about that possibility when you chased down the recruiter to enter this hell. Judging by Jun-ho's report, In-ho was working behind the scenes, observing these so-called "games". Why was he a participant? Did he recognize your name after all? Or was it because of Player 456 who claimed to be there for the second time?

In-ho... You sighed quietly and turned onto your side. It was strange to suddenly remember your life with him before you lost your memory. That day you regained it was like a fever dream, all the emotions and images from years ago flooding your mind - as if they were never gone in the first place. It was scary, knowing that you lost nearly 10 years of your life. How would your life be now, had not been run over by a truck? Certainly, you would not find yourself in a room with 400 other people literally gambling for your life. "Shit," you whispered angrily, rolling onto your back again, your eyes glued to the ceiling. What had you gotten yourself into? 

The light was almost blinding when the beginning of a new day was announced. Music sounded from the speakers, a melody far too happy and cheerful for a grim place like this. You climbed down from the bed carefully, stretching your limbs a bit. 

"You are... a strange one," a voice behind you said. "Pardon me?" You turned around, tilting your head slightly. The woman grinned, her eyes widening slightly. "Your aura is different from everybody else's. You're not here for the money, are you?" 

Before you could answer, another voice sounded through the speakers, telling all players that the second game was about to begin. As quickly as the woman appeared, she was gone again, leaving you behind confused and slightly startled. 

Your eyes scanned your surroundings, making out a few already familiar faces - including Gi-hun and In-ho. You bit your lip, contemplating your next move. It would be unwise to approach him directly. If Jun-ho's report was accurate, In-ho was nothing like the man you used to know anymore. What if he felt threatened by your presence? What if he snapped? 

Using a fake name was only a small part of your act. You had to be the woman whose name you were carrying. It was easy when you were still without memories. Now, it was more than complicated. What if you messed up? In-ho was smart, a former high ranking member of the Police. It would be easy for him to debunk your charade if he wanted to. Damn it, why did he have to pose as one of the players anyway? It complicated things to an impossible extent. 

"Hey 371! Come on, let's get going," you heard as you were pushed down the stairs gently. Looking behind you, you saw Player 388 smiling brightly at you. "Right," you nodded, letting him lead you down and outside to follow the guards to the next room. 

"A playground?" you whispered as you took in the scenery around you. "It's as nostalgic as it is morbid." 

Your mumbles remained unheard between the voices of the other ones - and Player 100 who apparently only possessed the ability to scream. The recipient of his ranting was Player 456 again. "That poor guy," you chuckled dryly, shaking your head a bit. 

"Players, welcome to the second game. We will begin shortly." Everytime you heard that voice through the speakers, your insides clenched painfully, for it never brought any joy or good news. "This game will be played in teams. Please take the next ten minutes to divide into groups of five."

You cursed quietly. Teams? There was no such thing in this place. Nobody really knew each other, nobody could be trusted; even more so since you still did not know which game you would play this time. How would you ever find good, reliable team mates? What if your team mates let you down and you would all die? What if-

"Hello again," the familiar voice from before spoke to you once more. 388. 

"Hi," you answered with a small smile. "Looking for a team to join?" 

"Uh, no, actually," he stuttered, rubbing his hands nervously, "we have a team, but we need one more member. If you're interested," he lowered his voice slightly, "we have two Marines and the guy who already won the games," he grinned. 

"And...? Who else?" 

"Oh," he answered quickly, "the guy who beat up those other two yesterday."

In-ho. 

Two marines, a former winner, and a former Policeman. That was probably the best team you could find in this place. Without hesitation, you took 388's outstretched hand and followed him to your new team.

The three men looked at you as 388 approached with you in tow. "This is... 371," 388 said proudly, "a... uhm..." "Taekwondo Instructor," you continued the introduction for him.

"Remind me not to mess with you then," the voice that was still terribly familiar to you said. You would recognize his voice anytime. Chuckling lightly, you bit your lip and willed yourself to look up at him again. He outstretched his hand to you slowly as he spoke up once more.

"Welcome to the team, 371." 

[lordprettyflackotara]

what a heavenly way to die || the proxies

‘forever is in your eyes, but forever ain’t half the time’

sum: after being stranded in the middle of a snow storm, you’re forced to take shelter with masky, hoodie, and toby. you need to stay warm, by any means necessary

tw:SMUT, FILTHY, LONG, AGGRESSIVE SMUT, foursome kinda? idk?, sub!reader, soft dom!masky, hard dom!hoodie, sub!toby, gun play, overstimulation, exhibitionism, lowkey throat fucking, praise, humiliation, power dynamics lowkey do be in place

a/n: FOR ALL OF MY OG HITCHHIKER BABIES <3

“But I don’t wanna wear gloves!”

“Toby if you don’t wear gloves, your fingers are gonna fall off.”

Masky’s voice was hoarse, his patience thinning the longer he walked. Not even a fresh cigarette could make this situation any better. Only some shit like this would happen to him.

On the way back from an assignment the car ran out of gas, courtesy of allowing Hoodie to drive for more than five minutes. Now with the tank on E, the four of you were stranded in the middle of no where. Snow fell from the sky, coating each of you more and more by the second. Hoodie seemed perfectly content with his offense, minus the occasional shiver. Toby couldn’t comprehend the need to wear so many layers, the kid practically fighting for the right to freeze to death. Masky found himself silently regretting his choice of a mask, his gaze landing on you.

Normally he discounted your presence, you being the newest member of the group. But he’d be lying to himself if he shrugged you off. Although you had only been around for a few years now, for such a tiny little thing you sure pulled your weight. He never thought much of you at first, your small stature and loud mouth telling him everything he could ever want to know. But over the years of enslavement together you simmered down, sometimes more quiet than Hoodie. Masky could deal with his silence, having been dragged into this shit show by his hand.

But you? He couldn’t handle it.

His dark gaze landed on you, looming over your shaking form like a dark cloud. You always wore skimpy clothing, even if not practical. This happened to be one of those times, your skirt riding up your thighs and knee high socks failing to conceal the goosebumps that littered your skin. “Cold, kid?” Masky asked, ignoring his own shaky fingertips as he took a drag of his cigarette. The four of you had been hiking for what felt like hours, more and more of your limbs becoming numb by the second. “T-Told ya life wasn’t a f-fashion show,” Toby chimed in, clearly enjoying the weather.

“Can it, you ticking time bomb,” Masky interjected, frowning. He noted the way you avoided his gaze, as if you were afraid of judgment. But why? You had never given a shit about his opinion before. He grunted to himself as he shrugged off his signature mustard jacket, forcefully shoving it on your shoulders.

“But you’ll freeze-”

“Put it on and don’t bitch about it.”

His voice was stern and full of authority, threatening you to question it. His mask hid his satisfied expression as he watched you put it on. “Any plans here boss? Or do we plan on camping out here?” Hoodie asked sarcastically. It was in moments like these Masky was thankful the two of them wore mask, his distain written all over his face. “We just need to keep heading south like boss ordered,” Masky huffed, blowing cigarette smoke out into the cold night air. Tensions were arising quickly, the freezing cold fizzling out any trust that had been formed.

“Head south? Are you on crack or delusional? Toby’s fingers are so frost bitten they’re about to snap off and the kid is so fuckin cold i’m surprised she’s able to stand at all,” Hoodie barked, his words laced with venom. Masky didn’t like to go off schedule. He didn’t like to piss off The Operator. If it were him and him alone, he’d continue walking south until he either made it or The Operator himself found him. However, as his eyes raked in the sight of his companions, he realized Hoodie was right.

“Fine, we’ll have a sleepover. Follow me. I saw smoke over this way,” Masky agreed reluctantly, tossing his cigarette bud carelessly onto the ground. Toby began to yap about Masky being a litter bug, earning him a knock upside the head from Hoodie. The silent proxy gritted his teeth, annoyed with Masky neglecting to tend to them sooner.

“You saw signs of civilization and just now told us? How long would you have let us walk before we fuckin froze to death?” Hoodie questioned, his gaze so deadly Masky could feel holes burning into his back. You awkwardly tugged his jacket closer to you, your breath shallow. “He’s k-kinda right, kinda an asshole move,” You said softly, completely exhausted from marching in a borderline snow storm. Masky’s gaze softened for a moment, before noticing Toby had taken off his gloves. “We need to get going before this dipshit loses his fingers,” Masky grumbled, shrugging off the issue at hand. The three of you trailed behind him, satisfaction washing over you as a cabin came into sight.

You weren’t an advocate for death, but you quite literally would’ve killed someone for a warm spot in that cabin. The four of you burst inside, scanning the room for any sign of human life. None of you could deny your eagerness to be warm. A small fire crackled in the background in the fireplace, providing a soft orange glow to the room. Masky gestured Toby to follow him upstairs, leaving you and Hoodie to scope out the remainder of the first floor. “Any guesses on why it’s abandoned like this?” You asked the taller proxy, avoiding his lingering gaze. Hoodie tended to be a bit unsettling sometimes, whether he meant to be or not.

“My guess? Some rich couple cut their honeymoon short and hauled ass once they saw the forecast,” Hoodie said blandly, shrugging off his ski mask. It had been a while since you had seen his face, his stubble grown out more than you could remember. “Good for us then,” You mumbled, averting your eyes. You stared at the ground so much you tended to forget what your fellow proxies faces looked like. Footsteps trampling down the stairs regained your attention, your head snapping in the direction. “Good news, place is ours. Bad news, the only heat source is that lovely fireplace right there,” Masky said, sitting down in front of the small couch. The three of you followed his lead, crowding around the tiny fireplace.

“This is your grand plan?” Hoodie questioned, his distrust visible on his face with his mask off. Masky fought the urge to light another cigarette, bringing his knees to his chest. “The fireplace as well as our body heat is enough to survive. Unless you have a better idea, be quiet,” Masky replied dryly. Toby took the opportunity to lay his head in your lap, a place he had been time and time again. You had taken on this role long ago, stroking his chestnut hair until the unpredictable ticking time bomb fell asleep. Tonight was no exception, even as you settled in next to Masky.

You ignored the ever growing tension that sprouted with each second as your arms touched, the smell of his cologne mixed with tobacco flooding your nostrils. Tensions were ever growing as your arm brushed against his, your energies so magnetic it made you unmistakably nervous. Nervous. You never felt nervous in any other situation. But around Masky? Especially close like this? You might as well have been a flirty high school girl. Hoodie ignored the three of you, jumping over the arm of the couch and making himself comfortable. He was always reserved like that, refusing to touch any of you unless he was back handing Toby. The couch squeaked under his weight, the squeaks continuing until the older proxy got settled.

You continued to play with Toby’s hair, swirling your fingers around his scalp. “Warm enough kid?” Masky asked, his voice more rough than usual. You tried to avoid staring, noticing him taking off his mask out of the corner of your eye. You wanted nothing more than to soak in his features, especially since his mask was practically glued to his face a majority of the time. Instead you forced yourself gaze to remain forward, watching the fire flicker. “I suppose,” You mumbled, catching a knot in Toby’s hair. You refrained from cringing as you brushed it through with your fingers, thankful he couldn’t feel pain as he slept soundly. The sound of Hoodie’s soft snores put Masky a little more at ease, his next words something he wouldn’t admit to the other two men next to you.

“You were right about earlier. I was an asshole, I should’ve had us head here to begin with,” Masky admitted timidly. He didn’t like being the leader, that role automatically assigned to him like it was his birth right. What he didn’t like even more than that, was admitting that he was wrong. He expected ridicule, which he would’ve gotten if you were Hoodie or Toby. But instead you laid your head on his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against the fabric of his sweater. “I know you were just trying to please The Operator,” You whispered. You continued playing with Toby’s hair, ensuring your hand didn’t stop. You glanced up in his direction, soaking in his thick eyebrows and awkward side burns. His chocolate eyes met yours unsurely, an eyebrow raising.

“What are you doing to me kid?” Masky grumbled, his own heart beginning to race. This was bad news, feeling this way towards you. But the orange glow against your skin had him reeling in his own skin. “You tell me boss,” You whispered back, edging your lips towards his. It caught you off guard that Masky made the first move, planting his lips against yours. His lips were as chapped as yours, his taste a recognized mixture of mint and cigarettes. You melted under his touch, eagerly kissing him back. He was intoxicating, his large hand slipping into your hair.

You could feel your core throbbing with desire, your cheeks flushing pink as you realized this. Being a proxy didn’t exactly equate a productive sex life, your body longing for the touch of another human. You couldn’t get enough of his lips, his desperation. It was just as passionate as yours, both of you longing for human compassion. You shuddered as his large hand slithered down to your thigh, your legs parting instantly. His cold fingertips trailed up your sensitive skin, tracing your skin teasingly. You held back a soft groan, Masky eager to hear you make sinful noise for him. He was so close to your core, your body shuddering at the idea-

“What the fuck are you two doing?”

Hoodies voice was sharp, abruptly interrupting your lustful daze. Love affairs between proxies was forbidden, a strict rule made clear to you by The Operator. While he gave the same speech to Kate, he knew that her feralness would unintentionally have her follow his rule to a T. You, however, were semi more mentally stable, with a knack for fashion and semi put together appearances. For the first time you saw panic across Masky’s eyes, causing you to clear your throat. “Sharing body warmth obviously, you cold Hoodie?” You asked, the lie leaving your lips before you had time to consider the repercussions. For a second you could’ve swore you saw a glimpse of Brian, a playful smirk crawling up his lips.

Your hand abandoned Toby’s hair, grabbing a handful of Hoodies coat to drag him closer to you. You managed to spare a moment of hesitation, dragging his lips to clash into yours. You were tense at first, unsure what the proxy would do. You were surprised to feel him meet your desperation all the same, the nagging realization of his similar loneliness crashing over you. Teeth clashed with teeth, his desperation resulting in a deeper kiss than you expected. You found yourself getting even more flushed, knowing Masky’s eyes were burning into yours. He took the opportunity to press his hand against your core, noting how damp your panties were already.

“You’re gonna wake the kid up,” Hoodie grunted, reluctant to pull away from your lips to begin with. Masky rubbed against your swollen slick, earning a small whimper from you. “I’m a-a-already up,” Toby said groggily, sitting up. You avoided his gaze as he soaked in the sinful sight in front him, Masky’s hand on your cunt and Hoodie’s lips mere centimeters from yours. You swallowed, your core throbbing at the idea of taking all three of them at once. After all, you had to convince yourself you weren’t lying. This entanglement was nothing more than an exchange of body heat, a way to keep warm.

Right?

You turned your head towards Toby swallowing nervously as you leaned forward to kiss him. It caught him off guard, his light grey cheeks forming a tint of pink as he matched your actions. Two sets of large hands rearranged you as you lost yourself into the kiss, your ass in the air as your skirt got flipped up. “Fuck,” Masky mumbled, his cold hand sending goosebumps across your skin. You could hear Hoodie moving on the couch, causing you to pull away from sucking on Toby’s bottom lip. The clinking of his belt fully caught your attention, your eyebrows raised. “Do you um, not wanna be warm?” You asked slowly. A pang of embarrassment shot through you, a creeping worry of his lack of desire for you arising. The taller proxy smirked, unzipping his jeans.

“I just wanna watch you get knocked down a few pegs, now go on and kiss Masky again,” Hoodie ordered, palming himself through his jeans. You turned to Masky, cheeks flushed red and heart pounding as you met his gaze. His pupils were blown with lust, his face in the softest state you had ever seen it. You met his lips eagerly, obeying Hoodies demand. Toby took the opportunity to come up behind you, his cold hands slipping under your shirt. Your hand slithered its way down to Masky’s crotch, palming his hard boner. You were satisfied to hear a small groan claw its way out of his throat, your lips eagerly swallowing it. You arched your back as Toby’s curious fingertips found their way to your breast, squeezing harshly at your perky nipples.

“N-No bra? You’re just d-d-dying to get fucked huh?” Toby snickered. Goosebumps trailed down your spine as you whimpered, nibbling on Masky’s bottom lip. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, soaking in his facial expression. “Let me suck you off,” You whispered, biting the inside of your cheek as Toby harshly twisted your left nipple. Masky seemed at a loss of words, something that rarely occurred to him. He looked over you, eyeing a mischievous Toby. “Hey kid, make yourself useful and let her ride your face,” He said, his words laced with authority. You couldn’t ignore the warmth that spread over you as Toby laid on his back, nuzzling himself between your knees.

“Sit back on his face princess,” Hoodie ordered, pulling his cock out of his boxers. Masky clenched his jaw, having momentarily forgotten Hoodie was even there. He watched your shaky hands fiddle with his belt, slowly lowering yourself onto Toby’s eager mouth. You nervously glanced down at the younger proxy, licking your dry lips. “You can uh, touch yourself you know, or something,” You offered unsurely, feeling him shove your panties to the side with his cold fingertips. Masky placed his hand on the back of your head, gently reminding you to focus. “He’ll figure it out kid, stop worryin’ so much,” Masky grumbled. You continued to focus on undressing him, whimpering as you felt Toby’s warm tongue dart in between your folds.

“This is taking way too fuckin long. Let’s speed things up shall we?” Hoodie asked, his cock already exposed and in hand. Your eyes widened as he took out his hand gun, clicking off the safety. “Get to sucking princess,” Hoodie barked. Toby continued to lap at your folds, his tongue messily flicking your clit. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Masky argued. His attention was diverted once you took him in your mouth, eagerly bobbing your head up and down on his hard cock. Hoodie smirked at your reaction, noting the way your thighs squeezed Toby’s head harder. “Look at her Mask. You think a girl like us isn’t into some freaky shit? Now shut up and enjoy it,” Hoodie snickered, stroking himself to the sight.

Toby was eager, his hand pumping his own shaft as he devoured your cunt. He couldn’t get enough of your taste, his soft groans muffled by your soaked folds. Your hips involuntarily grinded against his face, your own moans sending vibrations around Masky’s cock. The brunette tried to hide his own sinful noises, but you taking him to the base cancelled out any possibility of him being able to do so. His hand grabbed a handful of your hair, assertively guiding you up and down his cock. Hoodie couldn’t get enough of the sinful sight, your knees digging into the hard wood as you struggled to hold yourself up. He wouldn’t stop watching even if the world collapsed.

Meanwhile Masky was struggling to hold on, having spent years and years with his hand as his only companion. Your mouth was so warm and wet, your throat only making it harder to resist cumming right then and there. “Fuck kid, you’re gonna be the death of me,” He grunted, feeling your tongue swirl around his tip. Your eyes were already flooded with tears, your gaze meeting his as you deep throated him. It was embarrassing to Masky how fast he knew he was going to cum, your sweet face only bringing him closer to the edge. Hoodie noted this as well, noticing the way Masky’s hips began slowly stuttering. A sadistic thought came to mind, one that he knew would ensure a good time for every party involved.

Your orgasm was approaching quickly, your thighs squeezing Toby’s head so tightly you were almost worried about him. “Go on princess, that’s it. Ride Toby’s face like the good whore you are,” Hoodie purred, stroking himself. He enjoyed watching your micro expressions, your mannerisms. The way your eyebrows furrowed when Toby licked you just right. Masky momentarily pulled out of your mouth, craving to hear your moans. Your spare hand was tugging at Toby’s hair, whimpers clawing their way out of your throat. “Fuck, feels so good T-Toby-” You whined, tilting your head back. Precum and saliva covered your swollen lips, your gaze meeting Masky’s. “Can I cum? Fuck, please let me cum,” You whined, struggling to contain yourself. Masky smirked at your request, briefly giving Hoodie a cocky glance.

“Go on kid, cum for us,” He cooed. Words couldn’t describe the satisfaction he felt as you came on Tobys face, your eyes rolling back and legs shaking. You planned to get off, a click from Hoodies gun ripping you away from your ride of euphoria. “I didn’t tell you to get off, did I? Keep riding princess,” Hoodie barked. Toby was still as eager as ever, his mouth gratefully accepting you as you lowered back down onto him. He lapped at your slick, devouring your cum. “Nobody’s stopping until everyone cums. That’s only fair, isn’t it?” Hoodie asked mockingly. You rolled your tongue out across your bottom lip, presenting yourself for Masky to use. “Masky, please, let me taste you,” You pleaded, struggling to stay upright. The overstimulation was making your body twitch, the brunette quick to shove himself back in your mouth.

Something about this, watching you be overstimulated and cumming, drove Masky feral.

He was more aggressive this time, pulling your hair and forcing your jaw to go slack. You whined as you struggled to keep up, saliva trailing down the sides of your mouth. “Such a good hole for me to use, fuck,” Masky groaned. He could feel himself coming closer to his orgasm, his hips stuttering as he thrust one final time down your throat. His warm seed made you gag as you struggled to keep him in your mouth. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you gripped his thighs, swallowing him whole. He pulled out of your mouth, watching you gulp for air. You were so pretty like this, your face fucked out and sounds nothing more than incoherent babbles. You could hear Toby’s groans growing louder as well, your thighs squeezing around his head as he came on his stomach. The three of you were spent, Toby’s tongue momentarily coming yo a pause.

The sound of Hoodies gun clicking caught all three of your attention, the taller proxy not hiding his sadistic grin. “Not all of us have cum, have we?” He asked, sending a shiver of fear and arousal down your spine. “Keep sucking princess,” He barked. His gaze landed on Toby, whose eyes were barely visible from between your thighs.

“And keep eating her out kid, I wanna see her squirm.”

[hederasgarden]

Hiya! David!clark with prompt 2 from your list pretty please w the juiciest cherry on top! SMOOCHES TO YOUUU

Smooches to you as well, anon!! This was such a cute drabble request!

Pairing: David!Clark Kent x F!Reader Word Count: 532 Rating: Gen. This is pure fluff with the prompt, Wait a minute. Are you jealous? A/N: Thank you to @ryebecca for looking this over! Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Masterlist ♡ David Corenswet Characters Masterlist

“And, anyway,” Clark continues, fumbling with the stack of papers in his hands. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea to meet him alone. Someone should come with you. Just for safety, you know? You can never be too careful.”

You raise an eyebrow. “It’s a date, Clark. Not some shady source for a story. You’re acting like I’m meeting a criminal kingpin.”

He frowns, pushing his glasses back up his nose in a familiar gesture you’ve seen him do a hundred times. “That’s not what I meant at all. I’m just saying, you don’t know this guy. He could be anyone. He could be an axe murderer, for all we know.”

It’s only the worried crease between his brow and the genuine concern you see in his eyes that keep you from laughing at how seriously he’s taking this.

“He’s friends with Jimmy,” you remind him, giving his very firm, muscly shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

“How well does Jimmy actually know this guy?” Clark questions. “Are they actual friends, or more like ‘a friend of a friend’ kind of situation?”

“I think they play pickleball together?” you say, though you can’t fully remember. Jimmy tended to ramble a lot and well, truth be told, sometimes you tuned him out. “Or maybe it was D&D? I’m not sure which one it is, but he’s definitely not some random weirdo. Just a nerd.”

“I should talk to Jimmy,” Clark says with a nod like he hasn’t even heard you. 

Before he can walk past, you stop him with a firm hand on his chest, your fingertips grazing the crisp, starchy white shirt he’s wearing. 

“Wait a minute. What’s going on?” You question. 

Clark may have had the reputation of the office big brother, always looking out for everyone, but this was something else. It felt different. It felt like he liked you.

No.

That couldn’t be right. He was so wildly out of your league and that thought sounded insane, even to your own ears. But as you study his face, you catch the way his eyes flick away from yours for just a beat too long, the briefest hesitation, and how his hand tightens around the stack of papers, his knuckles whitening.

“Are you jealous?” The words slip out before you can stop them. You wince, wishing you could swallow them back up when you see the tips of Clark’s ears turn red. He opens his mouth, then closes it, before tugging on his collar. 

“Oh,” you whisper. 

“Is that a good oh?” Clark asks you, looking almost nervous. 

“Oh,” you say again like an idiot as your brain tries to catch up with the sharp left turn this conversation has taken. Clark Kent liked you. Like actually liked you. 

"I do," Clark murmurs, and it takes a second to realize you must have said that last part out loud.

“Well, I should probably cancel that date then,” you tell him.

“And I should probably ask you out,” he replies, glancing around the bullpen before stepping closer. 

“Yeah,” you agree, getting a little lost in how blue his eyes are. 

“Will you -”

“Yes,” you interrupt.

He laughs and you grin.

Send me a request

[thewidowsledger]

Good Luck, Babe

Chapter 3: A Fool | 4.2k

© thewidowsledger 2025 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Summary: The once secret, a forbidden love hidden from the world. Those stolen moments together had been thrilling, but ultimately, drove the person you truly love away from you. But when she left, she didn't just leave you; she also left you a part of herself that would constantly remind you of her for the rest of your life. This fragment of her essence became an indelible mark on your soul, shaping the course of your life in ways you never could have imagined.

You know what they say, when someone leaves, someone else will come.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: ANGST, r trying to win Natasha back and getting her attention, Natty being cold, heartless and mean (but still secretly possessive), cutie Aliah unintentionally trying to make Natasha jealous (daughter did the assignment🤙)

Author's Note: I wrote the lines of Aliah based on how toddlers would speak. Also, I have been meaning to ask what you all want to see next for this series after reading this chapter. Thank you in advance.

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

You found yourself in a difficult situation, having to explain to your daughter that a significant change was about to take place. The truth was that the woman she had met at the store was her mama, and that the two of you were going to get married, well, she kind of blackmailed you into it but of course you're not going to tell your daughter that.

All she cared about was the beautiful dress that was sent to your apartment, as well as your wedding dress, which you're sure Natasha had chosen. She was so focused on the thought of wearing the dress that she didn't understand the implications of the situation or the fact that this wedding was a desperate attempt for you to keep her with you.

All she cared about was the chance to wear a beautiful dress to be a part of a special day with her mama and mommy.

"I do," Natasha spoke with her velvety voice. She was so calm compared to you.

"Do you take Natasha as your lawfully wedded wife?" The solemnizing officer turned to ask you.

Your world literally stopped. This is it, it's happening and there is no turning back. Your heart raced and your palms grew clammy as you hesitated to say the words. You froze, feeling a sense of panic wash over you as you realized the enormity of what would happen if you finally it. Natasha could feel your trembling hands and see the fear in your eyes, but then you looked over at your daughter, her face was filled with so much joy, excitement and innocence. In your entire life, you had never seen Aliah this happy—you couldn't take this away from her, so in that moment, all your doubts and fears faded away.

You took a sharp breath, closing your glossy eyes as you utter the words…

"I do."

⧗

Your daughter, Aliah, had immediately clicked with both her mama and her auntie Yelena. She was particularly excited and playful around Yelena, who was a person who matched her energy. As you all made your way to Natasha's place, where she told you, you would now be living together, Aliah was buzzing with excitement, eagerly asking questions about what your new life would be like.

She was sitting on Natasha's lap in the back seat, while you sat beside them, watching as she looked out the window with excitement. Suddenly, she turned to Natasha and shouted, "I wan' a wower coaster in house, mama!"

"That's quite a request, kiddo." Yelena, who was driving, chuckled from the front seat.

"I could do that for my princess." Natasha assured with a wink.

And there you are sitting in silence—disassociating. Your mind was elsewhere as you stare at your wedding ring, replaying the events of the ceremony and the circumstances that had led to this moment. What if you didn't go to the groceries that night? Or what if you didn't ask your daughter to get the tub of your favorite yogurt? What if you came early that day so you could've gone to the market early as well? Then Aliah won't meet her mama, you wouldn't have to beg Natasha in court and look like the one desperate for you to marry her, but at the same time you wouldn't see Aliah this happy which you hadn't seen her since the day she was born.

The sound of Natasha's soft voice as she spoke to Aliah and the hum of the car's engine all faded into the background as you became lost in your own thoughts. You were physically present, but your mind was elsewhere entirely.

Your mind couldn't help but dwell on the memories of your past affair with Natasha, the woman who was now your wife. The irony wasn't lost on you as you sat beside them, listening as they laughed together.

Your daughter and your wife.

It was difficult to reconcile the idea that you were now married to her when just a few years ago back in college, you had always been averse to the idea. She had always wanted more from the relationship affair, she used to have plans for the both of you but you refused and always avoided it when she brought it up.

Gods, they both looked like each other.

"Okay, we're here." Yelena said as she pulled up the car. Your disassociation was cut through as you looked around—the imposing figure of the palatial mansion loomed in front of you, the soothing sound of the fountain in the entrance hall cutting through the fog in your mind.

In college, you had known about Natasha's family's generational wealth. Whenever you teased her about it, she would brush it off, saying her parents were the rich ones, not her. And for some reason, she never seemed comfortable talking about her parents, her father in particular. It was always a conversation that she tried to avoid.

Your daughter raced past Natasha, her little legs scurrying as she excitedly explored the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Aliah! Don't run!" You reminded your daughter, finally, there are words getting out of your mouth.

Once you get inside, there is already some extravagant meal prepared for you. And then after, Natasha took you and your daughter on a tour of the expansive home.

She knelt down to speak with your daughter. "This is going to be your room," she said warmly, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Do you like it?"

"This is mine, m-mama?" She whispered. Your daughter's eyes widened as she looked around the room, taking in the new surroundings. She walked over to the bed, her small hands reaching out to touch the soft blankets.

Natasha stood, watching the amusement of her daughter, "All yours, princess."

Your daughter turned to look at you as if waiting she's for your approval, when you finally nodded she let out a loud shout, her voice echoing through the room. "Mommy! Mommy! I have my own room!" she exclaimed, her face lit up with a huge smile. "Thank you, thank you, thank you Mama!"

A wide grin spread across her face as she plopped herself onto the bed, burying her face into the pillows.

"A' we all gon' sleep here?!" She turned to look at you again, but this time her eyes landed between you and Natasha, her excitement palpable but yours died down with her question.

Natasha walked towards your daughter. "No, baby, we'll be in our separate rooms," she spoke oh-so-gently. "But I suppose we can...sometimes? You know?"

Well, you really thought you would share the same bedroom as Natasha, guess you're not.

Your daughter is still too young to fully comprehend that and everything at all, she looked up with innocent eyes at her mama and to you who hasn't stepped inside her room just yet. But she eagerly nodded and turned to sprint around her new room.

"You have your room just across, Aliah." Natasha told you nonchalantly as she walked towards you. You were tempted to ask where hers is, but you held your tongue. Instead, you replied, "I think I'll stay with Liah for a few more nights, at least until she's adjusted. We share the same bed back in my apartment; this is her first time having her own room."

You couldn't help but feel impressed with yourself for maintaining a calm tone with her. It was a far cry from your unexpected reunion a week ago in the courtroom, where you had literally begged her on your knees for her not to take Aliah. Even when she kind of blackmailed you into marriage to keep your daughter with you which you had agreed with no hesitation. This was the first time in a long time that you had spoken to Natasha without letting your emotions take control.

But now, you couldn't help but hope that this marriage would mark a new beginning for you and Natasha. A chance to leave the past behind and start anew. Deep down, you knew it wouldn't be easy to make amends, but you were determined to do whatever it takes to make things right between the two of you.

Because you still love her. After all these years, it's still her.

⧗

Natasha informed you that she had enrolled Aliah in an international school and classes would start in a week to allow for adjustment. With your interactions limited to discussions about Aliah, you felt a growing desire to initiate conversations with her.

"Hey, Nat. I prepared breakfast." You greeted Natasha with a warm smile. It had been a week since you had moved into her home together, and it had been a week since the two of you had married. However, you had rarely seen Natasha during breakfast as she was always busy with work. Today, you woke up early and prepared breakfast for her, along with a packed lunch to take with her to her work. You packed her some teriyaki chicken, onigiri and some grapes. It was the go-to lunch you two always have in college.

You even pampered yourself, putting some make-up on early in the morning, so you'd look…beautiful? No, definitely not, presentable is the right word to put it…or is it not? You, yourself don't even know what you're trying to look like. You just want to look like the wife who prepares food for her partner, that's it, nothing more. You're definitely not trying to attract her.

Natasha's reaction to your offering was unexpected. She regarded you with a lingering stare from head to toes, but instead of accepting your gesture or at least noticing your…pampered self that's just for her? She simply walked away. She didn't say a word, leaving you standing there like a sales lady offering some products to a customer only to be ignored by them.

You tried to rationalize Natasha's behavior in your mind, not realizing the tears that started to fall down your cheeks. You told yourself that maybe she was tired from her demanding job which you have no idea what is, what you only know is she is now an owner of a big transportation company.

You were painfully aware that Natasha hadn't forgiven you yet, and you knew it was going to be a long and challenging journey to earn her forgiveness.

As for you daughter, there is not a single day went by without Natasha having a playdate with Aliah and sometimes you couldn't help but feel jealousy, unsure of who to be more envious of—Natasha or your own child. It was funny and heartwarming to watch the two of them spend time together. You couldn't help but notice how Aliah had picked up on some of Natasha's mannerisms, like the way she would pull her hair up just like her mother, or how Aliah had mimicked the little huff that Natasha does when she's upset. You also had noticed how Natasha and your daughter moved in sync, their movements mirroring each other's as if they were connected on a deeper level. Whether it was the way they walked, the way they gestured, or even the way they carried themselves, there was an uncanny similarity between the two of them.

"Teriyaki!" Your daughter shouted as she charged towards the table, you immediately wiped your tears carefully not to ruin your make-up and of course for your daughter not to see.

"You wook beautifuw, mommy." Aliah hugged your waist and you leaned to kiss her forehead.

"It's make-up baby." You giggled lightly as you put her down her chair. She probably noticed your make-up on.

"You stiw beautifuw. But I wike it more when you don' have 'em because a wot of guys wooks at you. Wike the man in the mawket yestewday." Your daughter muttered as she recalled the moment where a guy boldly went out and offered to help you reach a tray of eggs that is literally on your level to reach. At first, you thought the guy was just being kind but when you kind of flexed your wedding ring as you reached some seasonings with your left hand, you swear, the man almost bolted out of the market.

"So you're saying people just look at me when I have make-up on, young girl?" You asked playfully, trying to sound hurt and offended.

"No! Mommy is beautifuw even without cowors in her face!"

Natasha had been within earshot and overheard the exchange between you and Aliah. She had intended to give her daughter a quick kiss goodbye, but Aliah had already darted towards you and the teriyaki you originally prepared for her but she painfully ignored.

After she's done lingering like a creep staring at you, she finally gets going and shuffles her car key. As she walks towards the front door, Rick is there, the butler of her manor.

"Make sure she never has to go to the market again, especially alone."

⧗

Every single day, you would wake up early and put in the effort to prepare breakfast and pack a lunch for Natasha. But despite your earnest efforts, she would either not show up for breakfast or stealthily leave the house without a word, leaving you clueless and baffled. When you asked the housekeeper where she was, they would simply inform you that she had already left for work. It was a constant, frustrating cycle that left you feeling more and more confused and neglected each day—it was an endless loop. But no matter how frustrated and disheartened you felt, you still insisted on doing something for Natasha every day. It was as if a part of you held onto the hope that eventually, she would acknowledge, appreciate your efforts and forgive you. Every gesture, every attempt to connect with her, felt like a desperate plea to earn her attention and love.

Despite the continuous rejection from Natasha, you decided to take extra care of your appearance. You would make sure your hair was perfect, your makeup was flawless but simple. You told yourself that it was for your own self-confidence and not an attempt to grab her attention. You definitely didn't want her to notice you more, definitely not…

Do you get frustrated having to meet your own needs every night? Definitely not.

Natasha didn't outwardly soften her heart towards you, but she wanted to see how far you were willing to go, how much effort you were willing to exert to win back her favor. Of course, she secretly took notice of every gesture you did, every breakfast and packed lunch that she had painfully ignored just to look heartless and cold, and every time you put in extra effort to put into your appearance made it not easy for her. She definitely did not jerk herself off first thing in the morning at work after seeing you with just a huge shirt and dolphin shorts that did nothing to cover your legs. She felt like you were testing her…teasing her but she knew you were just trying to earn her forgiveness—that you would be on your feet to earn it.

She found a twisted sense of satisfaction in witnessing you trying to hide your disappointment and how your eyes become teary everytime she ignores you. Natasha was able to keep you on edge, constantly striving to earn an ounce of attention. This subtle form of control kept you unbalanced and unsure of where you stood with her, which only served to make you try even harder to win her back.

You were so amenable, submissive, and desperate. God, she wants to break you.

You had carefully planned a dinner for the three of you, and you decided to reach out to Natasha about it as soon as you woke up. You framed it as if it was your daughter's idea, even though it was really your own idea. Fortunately, Natasha agreed to it without much fuss, as she would do anything for her daughter. After the small talk she immediately excused herself once again ignoring the packed lunch you awkwardly handed her.

To your surprise, during the dinner Yelena was present, a factor you hadn't initially factored in, but you ultimately decided not to pay it much mind since Aliah was really happy to see her auntie again. The three of you sat down to eat together for the first time in many weeks.

During dinner, Yelena took it upon herself to strike up a conversation. "Do you still work, Y/N?" she inquired.

"Oh yeah, I just took some work break…before the wedding." You nodded, trying not to sound so awkward. You actually took a break since you were summoned to court about the custody of your daughter. The shit had you stopping everything you're supposed to do.

Yelena turned her attention towards Aliah. "And you huh?" she scrunched her face on your daughter who cannot stop giggling whenever she sees Yelena, "Is your new school okay?"

"Yeah! I got new friends, tata!" She clapped her hands together, a broad smile on her face. You couldn't help but giggle faintly at her reply reaching over and gently ruffling her hair. "But mama I wan' you to come with mommy to pick me up next time because someone asked for mommy's phone."

"Oh that's…that's not. That's the school's—"

"Shit!" Natasha cursed under her breath when her wine glass suddenly hit the ground.

"I got it," you quickly spoke, your voice filled with eagerness to please…her.

"Natasha! What are you doing?!" Yelena whispered to her sister. Well, let's just say that she wanted to test your desperation and she enjoyed the thrill of having you so consumed by her, trying so hard to gain her approval. And she hated hearing that you were getting attention from others.

She watched you as you scrambled to stand up and circle your way to the table, you knelt down to her side.

Fuck, she cannot definitely have these thoughts during dinner with her daughter right in front of her.

As you continued to clean up the mess on the floor, Yelena spoke up, eyeing her sister intently as if she's trying to scold her using just her eyes. "Y/N, the housekeeper can do that," she said gently. "You might hurt yourself."

There was a brief moment of silence in the room after Yelena spoke up. Natasha simply said, "Yeah." Then, without waiting for a response, she rose from her seat and avoided your kneeling form on the floor and walked towards your daughter, she kissed her good night, and announced that she needs to retire early because she has an important meeting tomorrow.

You watched her disappear as you're still crouched down on the floor, the blood from your ring finger threatening to fall as well as the tears in your eyes.

⧗

You made sure to talk to her before she left for work so you woke up early and reheated the dinner you had last night. Just as she's about to head out the front door, you call out to her immediately. She was rushing as if she already knew you were waiting for her. Natasha rolled her eyes before turning around, her expression guarded as she looked back at you.

As always, she noticed you were wearing a little make-up on and a packed lunch in both of your hands.

"G-good morning, Nat." Of course, you're stuttering, this is the 8th time you will talk to her and once again, about your daughter. Before she could even get bored of you, which you noticed she was, you immediately flashed her a smile, "I-uh Aliah has a performance later and she wanted you to be there. I wasn't able to tell you last night b-because you left early. Also, I…I uh reheated dinner last night so you'll have lunch at work." You stuttered out.

"Okay, time?" She asked flatly, noticing how you tried to hide your ring finger that is wrapped with a small patch of gauze.

"Uhm, 4 p.m." You nodded, awkwardly clutching the packed lunch on your right hand while you move to hide your left on your back.

She takes it with a heavy, almost reluctant sigh, her fingers barely brushing against yours. "You know you don't have to do all this right? Someone gets paid to do this."

"I just wanna do something nice," you smiled awkwardly at her. It's not too late for that right?

God, she hated that smile. She rolls her eyes skyward, the gesture hidden from your view as she quickly turns away. Not bothering to reply.

"Bye, take care, Natty."

Natasha's shoulders tense briefly, upon hearing the nickname. It was the one you coined during college and she hasn't heard it not until now. The temptation to whirl around and scream that you have lost the right to call her that burns like fire in her chest. She envisions the shock, the pain, the breaking in your eyes at her words and she would love every bit of it.

But she bit back as she continued her way to the door handing the lunch she took from you to one of the housekeepers.

"Throw that away."

⧗

The minutes tick by slowly as you wait for Natasha. You called her phone number, it was actually her work phone number that she gave you and strictly told you to only call or text if it's about Aliah. Your daughter who was backstage keeps on peeking through the curtains, looking at you with hopeful eyes, checking if her mama is already with her mommy. You can only give her a thumbs up and a big smile whenever you see her.

But the performance is wrapping up, still no sign of Natasha.

As soon as the final curtain falls, you rush to where Aliah is sitting, a bouquet of her favorite flowers in your hand.

"Hi baby, you did great!" you beamed but you found her sitting with her head down, her usual bright eyes dimmed. Aliah wraps her arms around you tightly as soon as you pull her into your embrace, burying her face in your chest.

"Are you sad because mama wasn't here?" Your daughter nodded, you are too, you were sad and disappointed. But you covered up for your wife. "Mama called me and she was busy because she said she is preparing a surprise for you."

Aliah pulls back slightly, her eyes wide with curiosity. "A suwpwise?" she repeats. You force a smile, you don't like lying to your daughter and this makes your heart heavy with disappointment but determined to shield your daughter from the truth that her mama didn't show up even though she said yes to it. "Yes, sweetheart. Mama's been really busy preparing something special just for you." You pinched her cheeks that made her finally smile and giggle, "Don't tell mama I told you okay?" You whispered to her, your point finger resting on your lips while your daughter mimicked the act nodding eagerly.

You carefully tuck Aliah into bed, making sure she's fast asleep before Natasha even has a chance to get home. You know your daughter will be bombarding her with questions if you two both waited, and you're not sure Natasha has an answer ready for her. Besides, Natasha has no idea about the surprise you told your daughter she prepared for her, unless she read the text messages you flooded her with.

So you waited alone.

Natasha was just steps away but you immediately catch a whiff of something other than her usual perfume you use to smell every morning when you wait for her—the distinct scent of alcohol. She's been out drinking instead of showing up to your daughter's performance? You sigh internally, knowing this is going to be a long night. But still, you gave her a benefit of the doubt.

"Hey," you say quietly.

She tries to avoid you by heading towards her office, but you follow closely behind her.

"Natty, I cooked dinner for you. If you're hungry, they're downstairs or I can bring them to you."

"I'm not hungry," she husked, as she entered her office she left the door slightly open. You hesitate for a moment before following her inside, closing the door behind you.

As you were inside you immediately noticed Natasha leaning against her desk, trying to steady herself. You reach out to support her, but Natasha suddenly straightens up, pushing your hand away with a harsh grunt. "Don't fucking touch me," she snarls. She stumbles slightly, almost falling, before managing to catch herself on the chair.

"I-I'm sorry…" came as your second nature of response and you don't even know if she heard it.

"Can you fucking…" Natasha closed her eyes as if to calm herself, then opened again. She looked at you with half-lidded eyes. "Just stop doing all this, stop playing house. Stop cooking stupid breakfast, lunch or dinner for me…just, just fucking stop, okay? Stop playing like a caring wife 'cause you're not."

But you do. You care. You love her—you still do.

But you have been a fool to think that she asked you to marry her for the two of you to start over with your daughter. This marriage is just for Aliah and now it's clear to you.

You nodded slowly, biting your inner lip to suppress the tears that were threatening to fall. "I uh…I told Aliah that you were preparing a surprise for her since you didn't show up to her performance earlier. Just make sure you have it prepared first thing in the morning tomorrow. Good night, Natasha."

[itsnesss]

hello! could you write a hwang junho x reader where he finds out that they were asked to join the games? like he discovers the card and freaks out over it? 🫡

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | fluff, emotional content, themes of concern and vulnerability, soft romantic moments, mentions of risk and danger

word count | 1.7 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The sound of the television is a distant murmur as you get lost in your thoughts. The card weighs on you, but something inside you urges you to ignore the warnings. The desire to change, to escape the monotony of your life, is stronger than any doubt. The opportunity is there, within your reach, and you know you could take it. But what if something goes wrong? The doubt consumes you.

Suddenly, you hear a noise coming from the kitchen. You know it’s him, Jun-ho.

You wonder what he's doing around here, but you don't have time to think too much about it. You’ve barely noticed him until now, but there's something strange about his presence in the last few days. He watches you constantly, as if he's waiting for something to happen.

You hear his footsteps approaching, and when he enters the room, his gaze goes directly to the coffee table where, unknowingly, the card has been left visible. The tension in the air is palpable. You don’t dare move it; you don’t want him to ask, but he does.

"What is this?" he says, his voice so low you can barely hear it. His eyes fix on the card, but his hands stay at his sides, as if he’s avoiding touching it.

"Where did you get this from? Who gave it to you?" His voice hardens, but there's also a kind of desperation you hadn’t noticed before.

Your heart skips a beat. You know you’ve left it in plain sight by mistake, but you didn’t expect him to react like this. Something’s not right, and his gaze makes that clear. The way his jaw tightens and the worry in his eyes makes you hesitate for a moment. You question if you really know what you’re about to do.

"You don’t have to worry about it," you respond, trying to downplay it, but your voice trembles. You don’t even believe yourself. You’re trying to act strong, but you know deep down that something feels vulnerable.

"Yes, yes, I have to worry," he responds firmly, stepping a little closer. The anxiety in his expression is palpable, as if he’s about to explode. "This is not a game. You don’t know what’s behind that card. You’re getting into something you can’t control."

You, however, can’t let him influence you. There’s something inside you telling you that this is your chance, that you can’t let it slip away so easily. Life has been dragging you through the same routine, and this could be the change you’ve been needing. Why not try it? If you could escape all this, maybe you could finally feel free, maybe you could be something else, something different.

"I don’t understand why you care so much," you say with a forced smile, trying to brush off the situation. You don’t want him to see how affected you are by his gaze, by his concern. You need to have control, at least a little. "I’m not a child, I can take care of myself."

The silence between the two of you grows dense. He looks at you as if he’s trying to read what’s going on in your mind, but finally, he steps toward you and, with a deep sigh, takes your hands in his. His fingers, warm and firm, make you feel a small knot in your stomach. It’s strange how such a simple physical touch can make your thoughts dissolve, how suddenly you feel so vulnerable.

"I’m just asking for myself," he says softly, his voice much gentler now, but full of an emotion you can’t quite identify. His expression is laden with sincerity, something you’ve never seen from him before. "Don’t do it. Promise me. I don’t want you to go into that, I don’t want to lose you."

His eyes lock with yours, and in that moment, you feel something change in the air. It’s as if, for an instant, the rest of the world disappears, and it’s just you and him, in that small bubble of silence. His plea resonates in your mind, and for the first time, you wonder if you’re making the right decision. His concern is palpable, and for a moment, you question if maybe he knows something you don’t understand yet. It’s so hard to comprehend why he cares so much, why now it seems like the only right option is to follow his advice.

And the worst part is that, for the first time, you doubt your own desires.

"If you need money, I’ll help you," he adds with an unexpected softness, as if he’s willing to do anything to keep you from making that decision. As if it’s not just an attempt to stop you from entering the game, but a genuine desire to protect you, to offer you something better than that risk. "Just promise me. Please."

He says it with such tenderness that you almost crumble. His words, so sincere, pierce you like a knife, and for a moment, you forget about the card, the game, everything that had drawn you to that decision. It’s just him, his gaze, and that glimmer of hope that seems to want to reach you.

It’s strange how, in that instant, everything that had been noise and chaos in your head becomes quiet. You feel the weight of his plea in the air, the vulnerability of his confession, as if he’s offering you his trust without reservation. Why does he care so much about what you think? Why is he so desperate to save you?

You remain silent for a moment, looking into his eyes. You feel the weight of the card in your pocket, but now, in his presence, it doesn’t seem as tempting as it did before. The game, the opportunity, all seem insignificant compared to what you’re feeling now, as you look at him. It’s not just that he’s asking you to stay away from danger; it’s as if, in some way, he’s asking you to believe in him, to believe in something beyond what you want. And the worst part is that it’s becoming hard not to believe.

Without thinking, you step a little closer to him, almost as if it were a reflex, and before you can process it, he kisses you. It’s a soft kiss, full of an unexpected tenderness, as if he’s putting all his hope into that gesture, as if he’s asking you to understand him without words. The kiss is short, but it speaks volumes, and when he pulls away, your hearts beat together, intertwined in a connection you didn’t expect, but somehow, you understand. He’s reached you in a way you didn’t know you needed.

"Promise me," he says softly, as if he already knows he’s gotten to your heart, as if he’s already gotten what he wanted.

You remain silent for a moment, struggling with your own thoughts. The card is still there, close to you, but now, in his presence, you can’t ignore what really matters. His concern, his sweetness, his sincerity... all of that makes you question what you once desired with such fervor.

Finally, you take a deep breath, as if letting go of everything you’ve been holding inside. You look Jun-ho in the eyes, and with a sigh, you feel the weight on your chest lighten.

"I promise," you respond finally, your voice barely audible, but full of certainty. And for the first time in a long time, you feel that the most important decision you’ve made is the right one.

[starzradio]

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

when your husband’s secretary acts just a little too friendly around him.

FEATURING: office worker! nanami kento x wife! reader

CONTENTS: 18+ content, mdni. semi-public sex, exhibitionism, cunnilingus, fingering, use of pet names (sweetheart & my love)

WORD COUNT: 1k+

AUTHOR’S NOTE: so ik nanami might b too professional for this but 🤫🤫

"you need an appointment to see mr. nanami."

the receptionist spoke in a bored tone, barely looking up from her computer to give you a once-over. all the while she rolled her eyes and obnoxiously smacked her gum, like you were the one wasting her time.

but before you even had the chance to answer, the office door creaked open. "and i thought i mentioned that she could come in without needing one," nanami spoke up, appearing beside her desk.

the receptionist straightened up and busied herself with 'stacking' a couple papers on her desk. fluttering her lashes when she did look up at him, leaning forward just the slightest bit. "sorry, sir. you've just been soo busy and you did mention you didn't want anyone to bother you."

you honestly couldn't blame her, though. not when your husband had walked out of his office without his suit jacket on—the sleeves of his blue button down pushed up and showing off his watch. and well, the most important thing, his wedding ring. which she was blatantly trying to disregard.

"i'm aware. but you should know that doesn't apply to my wife, she's welcome to enter whenever she pleases," you could practically see her jaw clench as soon as he called you his wife, "please don't have me repeat myself. again."

"yes, sir. it won't happen again."

what she'd promised last time.

you stepped foot into the office, ceiling to floor windows decorating the space behind his desk. your heels clacked against the pristine floors, walking over to one of the wooden chairs.

"i brought you some lunch. saw that you forgot your bento at home and i wasn't sure if you brought any money to buy lunch," you spoke up, giving him a soft smile as you offered him the bento.

"thank you," he took the bento from you, setting aside, "but i think i'd like to have something different for lunch," kento cleared the space in front of him, patting on the wooden desk. a silent invitation. the skirt you had on rose up when you took a seat. the perfect offering if you'd ask nanami.

calloused hands ran down your legs, gently spreading them open. taking his time despite the thirty minute time constraint. "i'm sorry about her, by the way," nanami spoke up in a whisper, his lips pressing against your calf. "i don't know how much more obvious i need to be about being happily married."

his lips were reverent as he kissed up your leg, one of his hands holding the other in place. "like i'd ever want anyone but you, my love," he murmured, more so to himself, gently nibbling on your inner thigh. where only he'd be able to see them after. your legs spread apart almost instinctively, giving nanami the perfect view of the lace panties he adored so much.

and as much as he loved seeing you in them, the sight of you without them was much better. kento hooked one finger around the waistband, slowly removing them. sliding them inch by inch down your legs. "you didn't think we should hurry up, mr. nanami?" you questioned teasingly, pushing his hair back to take a look at his face.

"and why would we do that, mrs. nanami? i want to enjoy our time here," he pulled the underwear off, letting it fall to the floor. "well, you know you're sooo busy," you drawled, twirling a hair strand in between your fingers. he let out a small scoff, gently nipping at your leg in retaliation.

"never busy enough for you, you know that," nanami's voice came out muffled, licking a stripe up your cunt. he swirled his tongue around your clit before moving down, running the tip of his tongue down your folds. "never?" you mused, looking down at nanami. he wasn't paying that much attention to you anymore—rather, just your pussy.

"never," he muttered offhandedly, pushing a finger inside of you. your heels dug into his shoulder blades, your back arched when kento curled his fingers to hit your g-spot. and while it'd hurt at first—it was a pain that nanami was more than welcome to receive if it meant getting to lose himself in you.

your nails—paid for by yours truly—tugged on his hair, pulling him closer to your dripping cunt. kento clicked his tongue, looking up at you, "come on, use your words. tell me what you want and i'll give it to you."

"more, please," you responded almost immediately, your grip on his hair loosening up. just a bit. he replaced his tongue with two fingers, slowly getting past that initial resistance before pushing them in and out of you.

even with his glasses fogging up with every heavy breath that he took and your slick covering his mouth and chin, nanami continued to push his fingers inside of you. coaxing out all the pretty little noises you were making. "you can be a little louder, no? just a little bit, sweetheart," nanami curled his fingers, drawing out a whine from your lips.

you dripped onto his digits with each thrust, the golden wedding band on his finger glistening against the office lights. "k-ken, don't stop," your nails dug deeper into his hair, messing up the time he took fixing it this morning. you weren't even sure what was louder anymore—the squelching in between your legs or your moans.

your thighs clamped tightly around his head, holding him in place. "open them, darling. you can take it, you even asked me for more," kento felt the way your legs trembled—the way you were almost hesitant to open your legs again. you were close. "too much, too much," your moan had come out louder this time—loud enough to bleed through the walls.

not that it mattered.

you felt that familiar pressure build up in your lower tummy, your legs threatening to close again all the while your toes curled against the leather heels. too much, you'd said, and you still found yourself needing even more. "cum for me sweetheart, you can take it. take what's yours," his words served as a final push, your orgasm washing over you like a wave.

nanami pulled his dripping fingers out from your cunt and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping them off. effortlessly, he wiped away the spit and slick dribbling down his chin before carelessly tossing the handkerchief to the side. like it was nothing more than just a bother.

your chest heaved as you leaned back against the desk, watching your husband stand up from his spot. a wet patch adorned the front of his khaki pants, his cock practically twitching against the confines of his boxers. "i think i'll just skip ahead to the main course."

needless to say, you didn't have any more trouble coming into nanami's office after that <3

[mrsmangi]

Hibiscus 🌺🌺🌺

late night call - luigi mangione

♡ flower prompt: hibiscus - the realization of a friendship becoming something more - meaning: in victorian times, the gift of a hibiscus bloom meant that the giver was acknowledging the receiver’s delicate beauty. ♡ w.c.: 1k ♡ a/n: hi, love! thank you so much for your request. srry for the delay, i'm a bit backed up with requests. she's a short one, but i hope you enjoy!

♡ send me a flower & i'll write a drabble based off the prompt ! ↪ prompts that have been requested

“Do you ever think people realize just how loud their ceiling fans are?” 

His voice comes through the phone, low and scratchy, like he’s been lying on his back for too long, staring at his own ceiling. You giggle softly, shifting against the pillow propped against your back. Your own fan spins above you, a rhythmic hum filling the space between his words and yours. 

“It’s white noise,” you say, quieter than usual. “After a while, you get used to it and stop hearing it.” 

“Mm, not tonight,” Luigi sighs. “It’s like the fan’s trying to keep me awake for as long as possible.”

You laugh again, a soft, breathy sound that feels just a bit too loud in the stillness of your room. It’s past midnight–long past the time you’d planned to be asleep–but this is how many of your nights with Luigi go. What starts with casual texts morphs into a phone call, then into hours of talking about nonsense; everything and nothing.

“Maybe it’s just your thoughts,” you tease. “What are the voices yelling at you about tonight?” 

He pauses on the other end of the line, just the faint sound of his breathing audible. You know Luigi well enough by now to know he’s not actively ignoring your question; he’s only deciding how much of himself to give away. 

“Life,” he answers lamely, though the vagueness of the reply altogether makes it clear there’s more to it than that. “Do you ever feel like no matter how much you do to succeed, it’s never enough?” 

You roll onto your side, pressing the phone closer to your ear. The dim glow of your bedside lamp casts uneven shadows against the wall. 

“All the time,” you reply honestly. “It gets exhausting, though. I feel like I’m just running a race no one even cares to watch.” 

He exhales, a sound that crackles through the receiver. When he speaks again, his voice carries the kind of understanding that comes from being seen. “Yeah. I get it.” 

The two of you fall into shared silence, the steady hum of your ceiling fan whispering across the line. You let yourself picture him for a moment–probably sprawled out on his bed, one arm thrown over his eyes. His phone would be balanced in his other hand. The image feels familiar, like something you’ve seen a thousand times before, even though you haven’t. 

“Can I ask you something?” His voice breaks the quiet.

“Always.” 

He’s quiet again, but you don’t rush him.

“Do you think…” He pauses again, and you can hear the shift of his breathing. “Do you ever think it’s possible for something to change without either person realizing it? Like, to wake up one day and feel like everything’s changed, even though nothing is actually different?” 

“Maybe,” you say cautiously, voice softer now. “Sometimes things can change so slowly you don’t even notice until it’s already different. Then, you find yourself wondering how long it’s been that way.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “That’s exactly what I mean.” 

You stare up at the spinning fan, asking him, “What’s different, Luigi?” 

He doesn’t answer right away. His continuous pauses make you grow somewhat uneasy, stretching a distance between you. “Us,” he says. “I think we’re different.” 

You exhale slowly. “Different how?” 

“I don’t know,” he admits. “But it’s like every time we talk, it feels different. More important, somehow, like there’s something there that wasn’t before.” He stops and you can nearly hear the way he’s turning the words over rin his head. “I used to just…enjoy talking to you, but now, it feels like I catch myself waiting for it. I’m counting down to the next time I’ll hear your voice. And when we’re not talking, I’m thinking about what I want to tell you the next time I see you, or wondering what you’re doing, or–” He breaks out into nervous laughter, cutting himself off. “Um, does any of that make sense or am I just rambling?” 

It makes perfect sense. Too much sense. Your heart picks up speed, the weight of his words pressing against the thoughts you’ve tried to push to the back of your mind. You notice it too. You’ve felt a change in the way you catch yourself thinking about him at odd moments–when a song reminds you of something he’s said, or when you replay the voice messages he sends just to hear his laugh on repeat. Tonight, he speaks heavier, like he’s cracked open a door you have both been staring at for weeks, maybe longer, unsure of who will turn the handle first. 

“It does,” you whisper. 

There’s a small, nearly imperceptible breath on his end, like he’s been holding it and didn’t even realize. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You chew on your bottom lip, letting the word sink in. “I didn’t know if I should say anything. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.” 

“Me neither,” he says, “but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel it. I do. All the time.” 

You close your eyes, the glow of the lamp behind your lids is a soft orange hue. “So, what now?” 

“I’m not sure,” he says. There’s no pretense, no cleverness to soften the edges of his words. “But maybe we can figure it out. Together.” He says his last word carefully, almost like it’s fragile–like it may break under the weight of its meaning if he doesn’t say it the right way. 

You hear him shift, the faint sound of fabric rustling through the receiver. It’s a small thing, but it makes the moment feel so real, tangible, like he’s not just a voice in the dark. You let his words settle over you. Luigi doesn’t have the answers to all your worries and neither do you. But, it feels comforting somehow–to know that he’s with you in this journey, and you with him. 

“Okay,” you say. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You know he can hear it, even if he can’t see it. Your heart is full of love for this boy as you exhale: “Together.”

[casscainmainly]

if you had a graph with the x axis being from "doesn't view batman as a father" to "views batman as a father" and y axis being from "doesn't view bruce as a father" to "views bruce as a father", where would you put each batkid?

btw, i love your recent metas <3

This is such an interesting ask!! Here's my rendition of it:

I'm going to add a little reasoning because these are contestable!

Dick: I personally don't think Dick separates Bruce from Batman the way some other Batkids do. Even if he did, Dick has been with Bruce so long, is so steeped in both his vigilante and civilian lives, that he's Bruce's son in any identity. Their bond transcends any 'Bruce vs. Batman' division.

Tim: Similarly, I don't think Tim separates Bruce/Batman, especially since he came into his life knowing both identities. The reason he's lower than Dick is because Bruce wasn't his dad originally; I'm a little biased since I'm now reading Batman: Contagion, but the presence of Jack Drake in much of Tim's tenure as Robin prevents Tim from being as strongly attached to 'Bruce/Batman = dad' as Dick.

Cass: Of course Cass separates Bruce and Batman very clearly, as she does with many people, such as herself and Babs as Oracle. For the early part of their relationship she didn't know Bruce, nor did she care; Batman is her father, Bruce is just the guy Batman happens to be sometimes. (I think this is less true recently, but she still thinks of Batman first and Bruce second).

Damian: Struggled with him because he definitely thinks of Bruce as his dad under any name, but I do think it's Batman that matters to him. He is the 'blood son' but it's the Robin mantle that establishes his relationship to Bruce (Robin, Son of Batman, not Damian, son of Bruce). This may have changed recently with the current Batman and Robin run, but for the majority of Damian's time I think it's fair to say he thought of himself as the son of Batman, not Bruce. (He is not anti Bruce though, which is why he's not that low).

Jason: Jason for sure thinks of Bruce as his dad - the entirety of UtRH wouldn't have happened if Jason didn't believe to his core that Bruce loved him as a son. That belief is so strong that Bruce overshadows Batman, in a way. Jason spars with Batman on the moral front, but his conflict is ultimately always with Bruce, which is the name he consistently uses in UtRH. This is the one I'm least sure about though because I've not read lots of Jason's runs.

Stephanie: Like Cass, Stephanie didn't know Bruce at all, so a lot of her relationship to him is Batman-only. She definitely doesn't think of either Bruce or Batman as a father - her desire for Batman's approval has shades of him being a father-figure, but it never goes as far as an actual desire for a father-daughter relationship. The only reason she's higher than Duke is because of the somewhat complicated way he echoes a father (and she, to Bruce, echoes Jason).

Duke: Duke doesn't really care about Bruce, and he cares about Batman only as a mentor. He basically tells Bruce he's only useful as Batman; even then, Duke doesn't have a super deep emotional attachment to Batman. He also loves Doug, who's still alive (though MIA), and wouldn't replace him in any scenario. He explicitly calls Batman a 'mentor' and 'friend'.

These are just my takes, I'm sure there are other interpretations of every single one of these. It's one of those questions that highly depends on your preferred dynamics for the characters, where canon can go either way. Even if this is horribly incorrect, I hope it was interesting! Thanks for the ask <3.