#they pull a lot of weight in terms of how his face works and how clearly you can see his eyes

[slaymitchabernathy]

The Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, lots of creatures were stirring, aside from a mouse.

Coriolanus peeks his head out of his study when he hears little feet running by and catches a glimpse of one of his children rounding the corner. He shakes his head, he's told them countless times not to run in the house, they have neighbors below them who he'd like to remain on good terms with.

"Ceraphina darling, let's fix your hair," Soarynn calls from down the hall.

Coriolanus readies himself this time, standing in the doorway when his oldest daughter runs by him and he reaches out, grabbing her and scooping her up. "Daddy!" She shrieks, kicking her feet in the air, "Daddy, put me down!"

Coriolanus chuckles, pressing a kiss to the side of her head, "What have I told you about running hmm? We don't want to upset the Dolittles sweetheart." Ceraphina at least has the decency to look guilty at being caught red-handed and rests a hand on his shoulder, "I won't ever do it again," she promises even though they both know she will.

He hums, gently setting her back down on the floor, "I'll hold you to that, now go find your mother so you can get ready for the show."

Coriolanus bought tickets to the ballet for tonight, the night before Christmas, and as expected, the children are very excited. The girls are the most excited since this is a chance to see the pretty ballerines in their costumes. For Caspian, it simply means getting to stay up past his bedtime which is a treat in itself.

Ceraphina makes a big show of slowly walking down the hallway to find her mother and Coriolanus goes back into his study, he ought to start getting ready himself. He puts his work away, neatly stacking his papers and putting away his pens when he hears a meow. He looks down at the floor and finds Petunia looking up at him.

Petunia is...well she's...Petunia is Soarynn's cat. There, that's the perfect way to explain his relationship with Petunia, she belongs to his wife which has led to them having to form something of a relationship. Most days they ignore each other but it's moments like this when everyone is busy that she seeks him out to bother him.

Coriolanus is not impressed when she rolls onto her back, paws in the air and a tilt to her head, "Go away," he tells the feline, closing the drawer to his desk, "or go find Soarynn." Petunia swipes at his shoes but he dodges her attack, after living with her for a good six years, he knows how she operates.

"Daddy look!"

He turns back to the doorway and sees that his youngest daughter is ready for tonight. Her hair has been pulled away from her face into a ponytail and he can see the big red bow Soarynn tied around it. Celeste is wearing a cute green dress with white tights and shiny black shoes with a little strap going across them. She looks adorable.

"Well, don't you look pretty? Do a twirl for me princess," he says, smiling when Celeste holds out her arms and spins around, almost falling over in the process but he reaches out and steadies her. "Was I just like the ballerinas Daddy?"

Coriolanus warily eyes Petunia who has now rolled back onto her feet and is slowly approaching him and Celeste. She's so sweet with the children which means that she purposely goes out of her way to be rude to him and only him.

"Yes you were darling," he answers, taking a step back, "why don't you and Petunia go find your mother hmm?"

"But I just saw Mommy, she said I was ready."

Petunia is getting ready to lunge and Coriolanus is getting ready to run, "Well, go see her again, and take Petunia with you please."

Celeste gives him a curious look but the four-year-old asks no questions and picks Petunia up, groaning at the small weight she has to carry, "C'mon Petunia, let's go find Mommy."

Petunia glares at Coriolanus before she's carried away and he smirks, she'll be subjected to cuddles and pets, what a terrible life to live. She probably thought that she had him cornered with Celeste in the room but he's quicker than that.

And Snow always lands on top.

꧁ ꧂

Thirty minutes later, Coriolanus is ready for dinner and a show.

He looks rather dashing in his red suit with a heavy red coat to match. They get cold winters in the Capitol with the mountains so close by and he knows better than to underestimate the weather.

He's putting on his gloves when Ceraphina and Celeste come into his closet, both wearing their sweetest smiles, "Come look at how pretty Mommy looks," Celeste says, tugging on his coat. Coriolanus slips his wallet into his pocket before complying with their wishes and following them out into the bedroom.

Soarynn had gotten all three children dressed and ready for the ballet in the time it took him to get one child ready, once again solidifying that he truly married the perfect woman. And he almost loses his breath when he sees how stunning she looks tonight.

While all three of their children are dressed in green, it seems that she tore a page out of his book and wore red. Her dress clings to her figure, showing off her curves in all the right places. It's long-sleeved and the sleeves have intricate beaded patterns sewn into them, truly making this dress a piece of art. The neckline goes straight across her neck, showing off her collarbones while still remaining tasteful.

He's at a loss for words.

"Doesn't Mommy look pretty?"

Coriolanus manages to nod and pick his jaw off the floor, "She looks very pretty," he agrees, deciding that tonight will end with that dress on the floor.

Soarynn smiles so sweetly at his compliment and comes over to him, fussing with his tie and the lapels of his suit, "Well you look very handsome Coryo," she purrs, doing nothing to help his growing desire for her. He rests his hands on her waist, almost wishing the children weren't present but he still leans in and pecks her lips.

The girls sigh like they always do whenever witnessing something they consider romantic. They'll love the ballet since there's bound to be some romance. "Momma, bring Lenny please," Caspian says, tugging on her dress and breaking their kiss. Soarynn gives him a sad smile and shakes her head, "Lenny can't come, darling," she explains, crouching down to be at their son's level, "he has to stay home."

Caspian pouts and Coriolanus can see that his son is already on the verge of tears which they cannot afford if they plan on making it out the door on time. "You know, Cecil will be there tonight Cas," he reminds his son, "so you'll have lots of company."

The Snows will be joining the Creeds at the ballet tonight and Festus phoned him just this morning to tell him that their son Cecil would be in attendance. Caspian and Cecil are two months apart in age and love to toddle around together whenever the families get together.

Sure enough, Caspian lights up at the idea of seeing his friend at the ballet, and the tears are kept at bay. Soarynn whispers a few more encouraging words to their youngest child before kissing his cheek. While the girls have Coriolanus wrapped around their fingers, Caspian has Soarynn in the palm of his hand.

Soarynn always denies such claims, arguing that boys should be raised with a very involved mother so they grow up into proper gentlemen but Coriolanus knows that she's only telling half the truth. The other half is that she simply adores Caspian, her only son and last child. He's a spitting image of Coriolanus with his bright blue eyes and golden curls and Soarynn can't help but dote on him.

Caspian allows her to pick him up and Coriolanus turns back to the girls, "Are we ready to go then?" They both nod, bouncing on their toes, "Yes!"

Soarynn dressed both the girls in the same outfit and they look nearly identical. Ceraphina looks more like Soarynn with her wavy hair and blue-gray eyes and Celeste seems to be a mix of her parents with her blond curls and blue eyes. They're so close in age that people often have trouble telling them apart.

"Alright," he says, "I expect you girls to be on your best behavior," he warns, "no fighting, no fussing, no arguing. Or Santa won't come and bring you any presents."

Their eyes widen at the threat and Soarynn nudges him with her elbow, "Really?" She whispers, not looking too pleased with the threat, "I've just secured us perfect behavior for tonight darling," he insists, resting his hand on her back, "now let's go enjoy the ballet."

꧁ ꧂

They arrive at the theater with ten minutes to spare.

While they made it out of the door on time, Coriolanus hadn't anticipated the traffic that Christmas Eve would bring. But they made it and that's all that matters. The Snow family follows an usher down the lavishly decorated hallway to their private box and the girls are teeming with excitement.

"Here you are Mr. Snow, please don't hesitate to ask for assistance should you need any," the young man says to Coriolanus, bowing at the waist. Coriolanus grunts and Soarynn gives the man a kind smile, "Thank you," she says, "and Merry Christmas."

Coriolanus opens the door to their box and the Creeds are already seated. "Look who finally showed up," Festus jokes, rising from his seat. Coriolanus rolls his eyes, stepping to the side so the rest of his family can come inside. The girls walk in first, amazed at all the ornate details and light fixtures.

"Hello Mr. Creed," Ceraphina says once she tears her focus away from the opulence that comes with being a Snow. Coriolanus is more than pleased with how polite his children are at such a young age and watches them shake his good friend's hand before making their way over to his wife, Persephone.

"Oh, Festus, you look so handsome," Soarynn says, the last to enter the small room, "we're so glad you all could join us tonight." Festus smiles and greets Soarynn with the expected kiss on the cheek and gives Caspian a wink, "It took some convincing to get Persephone out of the house but we made it," he says with a sigh.

Coriolanus knows exactly why it's been so hard to get Persephone out of the house the past month, it's because she's pregnant and is at the stage where everything is uncomfortable and too loud. But she seems to be in good spirits when he looks over at her talking to the girls.

"Well, I'm sure she's ready for your second baby boy to be here," Soarynn replies, a fond look in her eyes while holding Caspian. "Cecil," is all Caspian says, looking around for his own friend.

"Cecil is right over there," Festus points at his wife, "he keeps trying to sit in his mother's lap but his little brother takes up quite a bit of room." Soarynn sighs and Coriolanus can see her remembering what it was like being pregnant. Unlike some women, Soarynn loved being pregnant, she would've carried Persephone's baby if she could've.

She gives Coriolanus a hopeful look and he's quick to shake his head, "Absolutely not," he tells her before she can start planning for a fourth child, "we are three and done."

Festus chuckles and pats Coriolanus on the back, "That's what I told Persephone, one and done and now look at us."

Soarynn goes over to her good friend and Coriolanus doesn't feel any better when he sees Soarynn rest a hand on her protruding baby bump, "We don't need any more children," Coriolanus says, more to himself than to Festus. They really don't. Soarynn has given him three perfect children, why have another and ruin their odds?

He's always had a healthy fear of pregnancy, more so the birth since his own mother tragically died giving birth to his little sister who also died. Watching Soarynn push all three of their children out was terrifying even though she did it tremendously well.

He can't risk losing her.

"I suppose it's up to fate really, now why don't we order a drink and sit down," Festus suggests. Coriolanus nods in agreement, a drink is just what he needs right now. The two men place an order for two glasses of bourbon before going to their seats where Coriolanus properly greets Persephone and Cecil who is in fact, trying to sit in her lap.

"He's soaking in his last days as an only child," Persephone explains, rubbing her stomach, "and his days are numbered."

Ceraphina rests her hands on the edge of the balcony, peering down at the stage and the other people who will be watching the show, "Was I an only child Daddy?"

Coriolanus rests a hand on Soarynn's knee, leaning back into his seat, "You were sweetheart," he answers, "but only for a little while." Ceraphina and Celeste are barely a year apart due to how quickly Soarynn got pregnant after giving birth to Ceraphina. She was far too young to understand what was going on around her before her little sister arrived.

"Ceraphina darling, come sit down," Soarynn says, patting the empty seat next to her. Ceraphina does as she's told and sits down next to Soarynn with Celeste to her left. Coriolanus looks to his right where Festus is sitting and then Persephone and a struggling Cecil who's determined to sit in his mother's lap.

Festus shake his head at the sight, "He's a bit of a slow learner."

Coriolanus is glad that Caspian is a quiet toddler who doesn't ever put up much of a fuss. He looks very content in Soarynn's lap, his head resting on her chest. Soarynn dressed him in a little green suit and even slicked back his curls the same way Coriolanus does to his own curls.

The lights finally dim and a hush falls over the room. The girls whisper to each other, on the edge of their seats for the show to start. "Here are your drinks," an attendant says quietly from behind them. Coriolanus turns and gladly takes both glasses of bourbon and hands on to Festus who grins, "To a happy holiday," Festus whispers. Coriolanus taps his glass against his, "And to many more," he whispers back.

He looks at Soarynn who seems so content with this life they've created, Caspian in her lap while she holds Ceraphina's hand.

Yes, he decides, bringing the glass to his lips, to many more moments like this.

꧁ ꧂

The girls chatter about the ballet the whole time during dinner as if everyone wasn't just there to witness it.

But Coriolanus doesn't mind, he's simply pleased with their good behavior and proper manners. Caspian has behaved exceptionally well tonight too, not putting up any fuss despite staying up past his bedtime. Both little boys are sitting in their parent's laps, keeping themselves occupied by playing with the napkins.

"I honestly can't wait for him to start going to school," Festus admits, running a hand over Cecil's curls. With Persephone carrying a child already, Cecil landed in his father's lap and it's quite amusing to see Festus Creed with a child in his lap, especially after seeing him make a fool of himself when they were younger.

Coriolanus thinks back to his own days at the Academy, he was a stellar student and that's where he met Soarynn. She was in his art class and he was tragically doomed when it came to being creative. Soarynn had so sweetly offered to help and Coriolanus was also tragically doomed to fall in love with her. He asked her out on a date and the rest was history.

He wishes he could go back in time and tell his younger self that everything worked out in the end, they married the girl, had three children, and were more successful than ever.

"I like school," Ceraphina chimes in, finally talking about something else rather than the ballet. Soarynn nods and smiles, "Yes you do darling, and next year Celeste will join you."

Celeste perks up at the mention of her attending the Academy next year. The Academy is the most prestigious school in the Capitol. If you want your children to have a successful future then you'll pay the whopping tuition and send them there for the next twelve years or so.

The Snows will obviously be sending all three of their children there but Coriolanus knows how much Soarynn will miss her days filled with arts and crafts and reading stories. No wonder she wants another baby.

"Tuition has gone up hasn't it?" Persephone asks and Coriolanus grunts, reaching for his glass of wine if he's going to have to talk about money, "It certainly has," he confirms, "it goes up every year."

Soarynn places her hand on top of his, giving it a squeeze, "But we're paying for a proper education for all three of our children," she sweetly reminds him. She has a point but it doesn't change the fact that Coriolanus will at some point be paying for three tuitions, not to mention sports, extracurricular activities, uniforms, and who knows what else. And they always make donations on top of that.

Soarynn has always insisted on donating to the school, as if they don't already run him dry but he supposes that it sounds like a great idea when she's not the one working every day.

"I can get a job to help," Ceraphina quickly offers, "I'm good at counting." All the adults chuckle at her naive way of thinking, so innocent and sweet, "That won't be necessary darling," Coriolanus assures her, "we can afford all the tuitions in the world."

Persephone changes the topic to a possible trip to District Four but Coriolanus keeps his focus on Soarynn who's holding a now-sleeping Caspian in her lap. He might make jokes about being the sole breadwinner in their family but after all she's given him, he wouldn't have it any other way.

Soarynn has given him something that money could never buy. She gave him a family, a legacy, a purpose.

If she were a gift then she'd be priceless.

꧁ ꧂

"Let's put the cookies over here girls."

Coriolanus watches Soarynn and the girls carry a plate of cookies into the living room where their Christmas tree is, getting ready for Santa to visit their penthouse.

"Will Santa be able to get in our apartment?" Celeste asks, sticking her head into their fireplace that Coriolanus hasn't used in about ten years. Soarynn decorated it with stockings and garlands but Celeste looks skeptical about how Santa will be getting into their penthouse tonight.

"Of course, he will," Coriolanus answers, "Santa finds a way to get into everyone's house."

There are many things that one can never prepare for when becoming a parent but Coriolanus was never prepared for Santa. It started when Ceraphina was two and actually was able to grasp the concept of Christmas and Santa and they've kept it up ever since.

"Now we leave these here for Santa to eat when he comes later tonight," Soarynn explains to the children, "then in the morning, we can wake up and open our presents." Caspian bounces on his toes, gripping the coffee table for support, "Santa comes now!"

Soarynn grins and pushes the plate in the middle of the table, "He only comes once you're sleeping Cas," she reminds their son, "so we all have to go to sleep now."

Coriolanus knows that the girls won't be able to sleep a wink tonight but Caspian can sleep through anything, a trait he inherited from his mother. The Capitol could be bombed and Soarynn would still sleep through it.

Coriolanus on the other hand wakes up at the slightest noise. Soarynn teases him about it all the time, claiming that he's paranoid but he sees it as being protective. He would never forgive himself if something were to happen to any of his children while he was asleep.

"Yes, let's go to bed," Coriolanus says, holding a hand out to Celeste who gingerly takes it, glancing back at their twinkling Christmas tree. The children love getting to decorate it and Soarynn always does such a good job at decorating their entire apartment.

They all make their way to the children's respective bedrooms and the girls manage to swindle Coriolanus into letting them sleep together. "It's so we can sleep better," Ceraphina explains, climbing into her canopy bed. Celeste nods and grunts, having to use a little more effort to climb onto the bed, "Yep, we've gotta sleep together 'cause we'll fall asleep quicker Daddy."

Coriolanus gives her a boost and a knowing look, "Really? Well, Santa will know if you're not asleep," he reminds them, "and he won't come unless everyone is sleeping."

The girls get under the covers and look up at him with wide eyes, hanging onto his every word, "We'll go to sleep," Celeste promises, "and then we'll come wake you and Mommy up in the morning!"

Coriolanus does his best to look excited about the early wakeup call he'll be getting at the crack of dawn from his children. The girls normally sleep until either he or Soarynn wakes them up but Christmas calls for a special occasion.

"We'll be looking forward to that. Now close your eyes and go to sleep hmm?"

Coriolanus leans down, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads the way he does every night, "Goodnight Daddy."

Coriolanus smiles, smoothing down Ceraphina's hair, "Goodnight my princesses, I'll see you in the morning."

After making sure that they're all tucked in, Coriolanus quietly pads to the doors and turns off the light, looking back to make sure that they're actually asleep and not pretending. He fell for that before and he's never going to fall for it again.

Soarynn appears in the doorway just as he's about to leave and she peeks into their room, a fond look in her eyes, "Goodnight girls," she whispers, blowing them a kiss, "we'll see you in the morning."

Coriolanus wraps an arm around her waist and leads them out into the hallway, closing the doors behind them, "Caspian is asleep?" He asks while nuzzling her cheek with his nose, making her giggle, "Yes," she says, wrapping her arms around his neck, "not a creature is stirring except for us."

Coriolanus slides his other hand down her dress, stopping when he reaches the small of her waist, "You know, we could be really naughty tonight," he whispers, kissing her cheek. Soarynn leans into his touch, fully trusting him to hold her, "But we've been so good this year," she counters, teasing him while scratching the back of his neck.

Coriolanus groans, she's always known his weak spots and is so pesky when she takes advantage of them

"Santa won't mind," he promises, moving his lips to her soft ones, kissing her deeply. Soarynn instantly responds to his touch and moans when his hand slides a little further down, squeezing her ass, "Our bedroom," she whispers urgently and Coriolanus is happy to take her to their sacred space.

Most nights that end like this are considered perfect in his mind. But this night is more special than most.

It's the night before Christmas.

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[canisalbus]

cursed no tattoo machete (I'm sorry for doing this to him)

.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Fitness Trainer

A/N: I blended some french terms of endearment with English don't come for me. But is Antoine really French, or is he feigning this way to get closer to you? (Had a fem idea for this too)

Synopsis: Another day at the gym, your personalized trainer is helping you out a lot more intimately than he would with most clients.

TW: Creep gym trainer, yandere themes, mentions of future stalking/imagined groping, sensual content

And up... and down, just like that."

The squeeze on your hips kept you stable, even with your fingers shaking, mouth agape as hot breath was sucked in, and out. 

"One more, you can do one more for me."

"I can't..." you huffed, thighs quaking as the barbell on your shoulders made you ache. 

"Yes you can. C'mon sweetheart, we'll do it together."

He gripped the barbell beside where your sweating hands were, chest flush against your back as his feet entrapped the outside of your own. 

“Do it with me now,” He pulled the weight lower, forcing you to squat despite the agony in your ankles and tailbone. “Push through it, baby.”

The sweet name just slipped out, breathy against your ear as his hot exhales slowed compared to your huffs. It almost made you slip.

You could feel the muscles in your wrists shaking, vision going blurry as sweat drips into your eyes. One of his hands leaves the barbell to grip your hip, forcing you back into a standing position as your knees nearly give out. 

You rise slowly back up with the barbell in your hands, nearly groaning in pain at the strain. You finally lift your arms to your chest, finishing the rep with a strained frown as your personal trainer forces the weight off of your arms. His taller stature makes it easy to put the barbell back on the rack in front of you. 

You feel as if you could collapse, an hour and a half of intense training brought upon by your own determination leaving you exhausted and a little discouraged. You thought you could do more, push yourself harder-- but at the end of the day, the amount of reps your body would let you do, was it. You’d crack if you tried to go even further, end up tearing something or worse. 

Your trainer could tell; the way you sweat, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept that hard, strained look with each motion he made you do. 

“I hate to say it, but you’re done for today.” 

You look up at him from your place on the ground, water bottle hanging from your grip as you try to catch your breath. 

Antoine had only worked with you for a couple weeks now, what started as once a week now thrice, if you had the time after work of course. But somehow, he always enticed you to come back. 

His body, which should’ve been motivation, was more or less disheartening-- rippling muscles and bulging quads peeking beneath his tight ‘TRAINER’ black tee and athletic shorts as the perfect ensemble. 

He was so sweet, so encouraging and upsettingly positive. Always filling up your water bottle, saying how he’s always admiring the growth of muscle definition in your back, giving you light touches to show which area of your body that a machine might work out. He even offered post-exercise massages to make sure you didn’t get sore after each session, free of cost as a perk of joining the gym’s ‘premium membership’, an idea he sold you on. That, along with the complementary protein shakes made that were hi “specialty.”

You knew it was his job to hook you in, but who could say no to that sweet meathead’s face? Which is why you were here, on a late saturday afternoon, in this nearly empty gym with him that he convinced you to love. 

You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, even if he was the one persuading you, offering to use his time off to come in and help train you.

“Feelin’ sore?” Antoine bends down next to you, offering a small towel from his pocket. The twinge of accent in his speech makes him sound funny, dry lips parted as he looks you over. “You went harder than usual today.” 

“Yeah,” You let out after a gulp of water. “Definitely gonna feel this later tonight; ha, maybe I’ll actually take you up on one of those massages.” 

You point with your water bottle, grinning tiredly as Antoine’s eyes seem to shine. He licks his lips to hide a giddy grin. 

“Of course-- definitely, I’d be more than happy to. These hands can work magic you wouldn’t believe.”

Antoine shuffles behind you, pulling at your shoulders to make you sit up straight. 

“Wha- you mean right now? I’m all, sticky.” 

“Now’s the best time, your muscles are just coming down from the effort they’ve exerted. Best to prevent any aches and pains as soon as possible rather than waiting.” 

He begins gentle rubs against the base of your neck; vast, warm fingers grace your collar with a softness you hadn’t expected. Usually when people try to massage your shoulders they’re too harsh, too grippy; but Antoine was rhythmic, pushing into your back with his palms as he made his way down to your shoulder blades. 

“But considering you’ve pushed so hard, I don’t want to see you back here for a couple of days.” Antoine insisted.

“Awe, you want me outa here that badly?” You joked, laying your head forward as Antoine’s fingers made their way to the back of your neck, running pressed thumbs down from your hairline. “I see how it is, prefer your other clients over me.” 

It felt sort of weird, having him massage you so deeply on the gym floor out in the open. But the only person here in the middle of the afternoon was an older woman, paying more attention to her cellphone on the treadmill than anything you two were doing. 

Antoine shook your shoulders. 

“Don’t say that, now!” He leaned his head over next to yours from behind, getting so close your nose almost brushed against his cheek. “It’s not funny; I hope you don’t see me that way.”

“It’s just a joke,” You titter, running your handtowel down the front of your shirt.

“I never understand your jokes.” He sighs, hands moving down to your tailbone. He lifts the bottom of your shirt sticking to your skin, digging his hands against the soft flesh. 

“Woah, hey,” You turn to look at him, but his head is down, looking at his fingers. 

“I have to get to your hips, you can’t do so many squats without release. And at the rate you were going to day… well, you see what I mean.”

The bottom of your tanktop covers his knuckles as he pulls and kneads the skin of your lower back. 

“O-okay.. I guess..” 

He’s not usually so insistent, but he seems so genuine about it-- and, he’s the trainer, shouldn’t they know best? 

He begins with little strokes to your skin, almost caressing. You grow anxious until his thumbs push deep lines into your flesh. 

“Does that feel a little better, Mon cœur? Less pain?” He asks up close, staring at your heated and perspiring cheeks. 

You’re awed by how good it actually feels, the tension melting away with each push of his knuckles into your skin, and grip of his hands around your waist as each of his thumbs digs into your sides. 

“Yeah… feels a lot better..” 

“You can rest your head on my shoulder, don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.”

You do as he says, arching your back with your head against his shoulder. He had easier access into your back, working his hands up beneath your shirt to reach your mid abdomen.

The deeper Antoine kneaded, the farther he grew up your back, the more… audible, his groans became. Each dip was another breathy moan into your ear. It was fine at first, just the sounds of his work; and then, it became almost, uncomfortably sensual. 

“Just like that...” He mumbled, giving a deep hum.

With your neck so close, his nose dips against your jaw to sneak a sharp inhale of your scent. It was heightened from your hour of strenuous work, a smell he couldn’t get enough of. 

But you jumped forward before he could nuzzle as deep against you as he wished. 

“Uh! Thanks, I feel a lot better now. Really… got all the kinks out.” 

You clutch your towel, facing your trainer to prevent him from working his “magic fingers” again. 

“Of course. And that’s just a taste, a fully body massage would leave the workout you just completed to drain away, as if it was just a dream.” He wiggles his hands with a sheepish grin, one so simple and sincere your guard fell again.

Sure, guys at the gym could be creeps, but he was your trainer, eyes kind and a little foreignly clueless, who only wanted to see you thrive; he’d never try something with you, his client. 

“Yeah, maybe next time. But now, I need to shower and get this stink off of me.” You bring yourself to your feet, all wobbly and achy-galore. Even with Antoine’s work on your shoulders, you can feel your back beginning to seize up. It’s gonna be hard to bend down for a while. 

Offering a hand to Antoine still on the rubbery gym floor, he takes it with a slight ease. He doesn’t use the weight in his hand to get up, knowing he’d just drag you back down to the floor if he did. 

“Thanks again-- I mean, I know it’s your job but--” 

“Don’t thank me; it’s always a treat to have you here, my cherie. I’d train you for free, you know!” 

You laugh, flattered at the idea. If you were a bit more forward, you’d ask him for that little perk. Hey, paying for his service certainly wasn’t cheap!

Making your way to the bathroom, you thank your lucky stars the hard part’s over. Too bad you can’t look at Antoine’s pretty face anymore, though. 

Antoine on the other hand, follows your stumbling body with his eyes, watching as you disappear behind the water fountain and bathroom door. 

His eyes jut back and forth between the machines and front door for witnesses, seeing none before snatching up your forgotten towel. How’d you never notice they didn’t just give these things out? 

He’d brought the cute handkerchief from home, wanting to appear the most of a gentleman. And, in the hopes that you’d use it every and anywhere. 

Oh, he thrived off that scent, pushing the white damp cloth heavy against his nose. It smelled even more potent of you, moreso than the few inches away of sniffs he usually got. 

His tongue just barely brushed against it, writhing in ecstasy from how it still held the stickiness of your sweat. You didn’t know how intoxicating it was to him, watching each bead of sweat leave your neck, the dip of your back when he got the chance to help hold that barbell with you… it was almost maddening, how strictly he had to restrain himself from lapping at your hot skin and running his hands beneath your gymwear. 

 No, he had to save this for later. What would his manager think if he saw him acting so ferally? 

Besides, there were more important matters to attend to. Such as, taking out the bathroom trash, a simple excuse to slide his manager for the opportunity to watch you shower. 

Who knew working here would have such great advantages in getting close to you. 

[mossyvil]

how they like to cuddle

includes all characters except ortho bc idk how to write for him. writing this on mobile so excuse any formatting issues

riddle- he isn’t a huge cuddler, so you guys usually are just next to each other. but sometimes if you’re lucky you’ll wake up in the middle of the night and he is clinging on to you for dear life. he isn’t aware he does this tho so don’t mention it or he’ll be embarrassed

trey- he likes to have your head on his chest, holding your hand and maybe your legs interlocked. he also plays with your hair and it feels HEAVENLY. he also subconsciously runs his hands down your back as he falls asleep.

cater- he is just all over you lmfao. on your chest, you on his, spooning, he doesn’t care. it changes like 5 times a night too bc he can’t pick a position and stay in it but all his limbs must be touching you or he is not happy >:(

ace- just a classic big spoon guy. he enjoys cuddling but not to a huge extent to being a big spoon is the right amount or contact for him. but he is a hypocrite and will not let you get up once you’re in bed lol

deuce- acts like a big spoon but it’s obvious he likes being held, he just wants to be your protector. once you coax him a little though he’s much more comfortable being the little spoon and feels very safe in your arms

more utc!

leona- uses you as his own personal body pillow. every part of him is wrapped around you, including his tail. he claims he can’t sleep well without you so he drags you to cuddle with him when he takes naps lol. only puts his head on you, not his pillow

ruggie- he has no preference. he can appreciate all of the cuddling positions and likes to switch it up each night. and yes, he does like having his head pet. so any position where you can give him head rubs is fine with him

jack- he likes having you fully on top of him. no matter your size he likes the feeling of you on him, it’s like a weighted blanket. he’s also a little afraid of hurting you with his strength so this is a win-win for him

azul- hes a little spoon. it takes a while for him to even be comfortable cuddling in the first place, and once that happens he’s actually very open with saying that he prefers to be held. it makes him feel safe, like his octopot.

jade- big spoon all the way. he doesn’t have a real reason why he likes it so much but he won’t cuddle unless he can be the big spoon. just be careful, once you’re in his arms his teasing mood kicks in

floyd- it changes every night lol. he isn’t a big fan of being the little spoon, but other than that he just goes with what you prefer. he does like to squeeze you when he can, but he tries to be gentle

kalim- little spoon! he feels very content in your arms and it helps him relax after a long day. he also likes to hold your hands in front of him. give him soft kisses behind his ear and youll get to hear his giggles bc he’s ticklish

jamil- he’s also not huge on cuddling but he can’t sleep without you in the bed. at most he wants to hold hands but even that depends on the day. he’s like a cat, he wants to be near you but not touch unless it’s on his terms.

vil- DOES like to cuddle but makes sure not to mess up his hair. usually lays on his back and pulls you into his side so he isn’t gonna ruin all his meticulous work on his skin and hair. he isn’t too upset if it does happen, but would like to avoid it

rook- has no preference, just likes to touch you lol. if he had to choose he would want you to have your head on his chest, but as long as he gets to have his affection he’s happy. he doesn’t move a lot in his sleep, but does subconsciously pull you closer to him

epel- big spoon most of the time but sometimes is the little spoon. he’s surprisingly willing to admit he likes both, but he usually goes to being the big spoon. he likes being able to hug you, you’re like a soft plushy to him

idia- likes to sleep facing you and holding hands with legs intertwined but not fully cuddling. it took him a while to even be this affectionate with cuddling, but he’s getting there. he also likes that he can look at you when your eyes are closed lol

malleus- you on top of him with your head tucked under his. he wants you as close as possible and wraps your legs around each others so you’re even closer. he runs kind of warm so it’s really nice in the winter when the dorms are cold

lilia- he likes to lay on top of you with his head in your chest lol. it doesn’t matter if you have boobs or not, he likes your chest. he says it makes a good pillow for an old fae to rest his head on

silver- very respectful of your space and likes to be the big spoon. he lets you initiate any cuddling because he wants to make sure you’re okay with it first. he’s just happy to be next to you

sebek- he sleeps like a starfish LMFAO. all limbs are in each direction. theoretically you could cuddle like that but it’s not very comfortable 😭 he does at least try to go to sleep cuddling you if you want, but he moves a lot in his sleep so it doesn’t last that long

[its-avalon-08]

I need some angst and hurt comfort right now. I was wondering if you could write something with Lando and his long term girlfriend and she’s pregnant and Lando has been very busy with racing and stuff that one day when she says she’s going to an appointment to get a scan for the baby Lando resizes that he hasn’t been to a scan ever. Only like to the first two. And he’s like guilty and stuff and more guilty when he relies that his girlfriend is use to it. Happy ending please.

I hope that makes sense. I just thought you would be good to write it as I love all your work. 💕

every scan, every kick (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, absent lando, tears, fluff

First Trimester

Y/N sat in the waiting room of the clinic, anxiously tapping her foot. She kept glancing at her phone, hoping for a text or call from Lando. It was their second scan, and she was excited to share this moment with him. She finally saw a text pop up.

Sorry, babe. The meeting ran over. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Love you.

Her heart sank, but she forced a smile. She knew he was busy, but it still hurt. She went in alone, the excitement dulled without him by her side.

Second Trimester

Y/N stood in the kitchen, trying to reach a jar on the top shelf. She had texted Lando earlier to help her when he got home. Hours passed, and she finally managed to get the jar down herself.

She heard the front door open and Lando's voice calling out, "Y/N, I'm home!"

She turned to see him, his face tired but smiling. "Hey, I’m sorry I’m late. The meeting with the sponsors ran longer than expected."

"It’s okay," she said softly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

Another Missed Scan

Y/N sat on the exam table, her hand resting on her belly. The technician smiled at her kindly. "Is your partner joining us today?"

"He’s… he’s running late," Y/N said, her voice wavering slightly. "We can start."

The scan showed the baby moving, but Y/N’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. She took a picture home for Lando, but it wasn’t the same.

Nursery Preparations

Y/N was painting the nursery, struggling to reach the higher spots. She had hoped Lando would be there to help, but he was away at a race. Her phone buzzed with a text.

Won the race! Wish you were here. Love you.

She smiled, genuinely happy for him, but the loneliness crept in. She continued painting, the room coming together, but the joy was tinged with sadness.

Doctor’s Appointment

Y/N sat in the waiting room, rubbing her belly absentmindedly. She was here for a routine check-up. The receptionist called her name, and she went in alone, the familiar ache of Lando’s absence gnawing at her.

The Breakdown

Y/N sat at the kitchen table, her eyes red from crying. She had tried to hold it together, but the loneliness and the weight of going through her pregnancy mostly alone had finally broken her. Kelly, P and Max had come over for a visit, sensing she needed company.

Kelly sat beside her, rubbing her back soothingly. “Y/N, talk to us. What’s going on?”

Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. “It’s just… Lando. He’s always so busy with racing and everything. I understand his career is important, but… I feel so alone.”

Max leaned against the counter, his face filled with concern. “He’s missing a lot, isn’t he?”

Y/N nodded, tears streaming down her face. “He missed the last scan. And the baby’s first kick. I texted him, but he’s always so caught up in meetings or races. I try to be supportive, but… it’s so hard.”

Kelly pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay to feel this way, Y/N. You’re doing this alone, and it’s not fair. You deserve to have him by your side.”

Y/N sobbed into Kelly’s shoulder. “I don’t want to be a burden. I know how important his career is.”

Max stepped closer, his voice gentle. “You’re not a burden, Y/N. You’re his partner and the mother of his child. He should be there for you.”

Kelly continued to comfort her. “You need to talk to him, Y/N. He needs to understand how much this is affecting you.”

Y/N pulled back, wiping her tears. “I’ve tried, but he’s always so busy. I feel like I’m losing him.”

Max crouched down beside her, taking her hand. “Lando loves you, Y/N. He just needs a wake-up call. He needs to realize what he’s missing before it’s too late.”

Kelly nodded. “You’re doing an amazing job, Y/N. But you shouldn’t have to do it alone. We’re here for you, and we’ll help you talk to Lando.”

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling slightly better with their support. “Thank you. I just… I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

Kelly smiled softly. “We’re family, Y/N. We’ll always be here for you.���

Max squeezed her hand reassuringly. “And we’ll make sure Lando understands what’s at stake. You deserve to be happy and supported.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope. With friends like Kelly and Max, she knew she had the strength to face the challenges ahead. They stayed with her, offering comfort and support, as she prepared herself to have the difficult conversation with Lando.

Y/N and Daniel Ricciardo sat at the dining table, laughing and chatting over a cup of tea. Daniel had stopped by to catch up, and the conversation had naturally drifted to the baby. Lando had just gotten home from a long day at the track, and he walked into the lively discussion. "Hey, guys," Lando said, dropping his bag by the door and joining them at the table.

"Hey, mate," Daniel greeted, smiling warmly. "We were just talking about the little one. How's the baby cooking, Y/N?"

Y/N smiled, her hand resting on her belly. "Pretty good. The baby’s been very active lately."

"Yeah, you mentioned that at the last scan," Daniel said. "Didn't you say the baby kicked like a future football star? And the doctor said everything is progressing perfectly, right?"

Lando’s smile faltered. "You went to the last scan?" he asked Daniel, trying to keep his tone casual. "No, I didn’t," Daniel replied, a bit puzzled. "Y/N was just telling me about it. I just thought you had been there. We just chat pretty often, you know?"

"Oh, right," Lando said, his voice tight. "Y/N told you."

Daniel, sensing the tension, tried to lighten the mood. "Yeah, mate. She even showed me the picture from the last scan. Your kid's got a strong heartbeat. Future racer, right?"

Lando forced a chuckle, but the guilt was bubbling inside him. "Yeah, definitely."

Y/N looked at Lando, noticing the strain in his expression. "Lando, it’s okay. I know you’ve been busy."

"No, it’s not okay," Lando said, his voice cracking. "Daniel knows more about our baby than I do. I haven’t been there, Y/N. I’ve missed so much."

Daniel sensed the need for privacy and stood up. “I’ll leave you two to talk. I’ll see you both later.” He gave Lando a reassuring pat on the back before leaving.

As the door closed, Lando sank into the couch, his head in his hands. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’ve missed so much.”

She sat beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Lando, I know your career is demanding. I understand.”

“But it’s not enough,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve missed scans, kicks... moments I can’t get back. And it took Daniel fucking knowing more about our baby than I do to make me realize how absent I’ve been.”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes. “Lando, you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

“No, Y/N, it’s not enough. I’ve been so focused on racing that I forgot what’s truly important. You and our baby are my priority. I’ve been selfish, and I’m so, so sorry.”

She hugged him tightly, tears streaming down her face. “We love you, Lando. We just need you here with us.”

He held her close, his own tears falling freely. “I promise, Y/N. I’ll be here. I’ll make it right. I love you both more than anything.”

They sat there, holding each other, the weight of their emotions filling the room. Lando knew he had a long way to go, but he was determined to make up for the lost time. For Y/N and their baby, he would be present, supportive, and the partner they deserved.

Lando and Y/N sat on the couch, the glow of the TV casting a soft light in the room. They had just finished dinner, and the weight of the day’s emotional conversations hung in the air. Lando had apologized, and Y/N had accepted, but the raw emotions still lingered.

They were watching a movie, but neither of them was really paying attention. Lando held Y/N close, her head resting on his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, his heart heavy with guilt and love.

“Y/N,” Lando whispered, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry. I should have been there for you. I missed so much, and I hate myself for it.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with understanding. “Lando, you’re here now. That’s what matters. We can’t change the past, but we can make sure you’re here for the future.”

Lando’s eyes filled with tears. “I love you so much, Y/N. More than anything. I don’t ever want you to feel alone again.”

She cupped his face, wiping away his tears with her thumb. “I know you do, Lando. And I love you too. We’ll get through this together.”

Lando’s tears began to flow more freely. “I just feel like I’ve let you down. You deserve so much better.”

Y/N shook her head, her own eyes welling up. “You’re an amazing partner, Lando. Yes, it’s been hard, but I believe in us. I believe in you.”

Lando pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. “I’m going to be there for every moment from now on. Every kick, every scan, every little thing. I promise.”

Y/N held him tightly, her heart aching with both sadness and love. “I know you will. We’ll make it work.”

They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the movie playing softly in the background. Lando’s tears eventually subsided, replaced by a deep sense of resolve. He kissed the top of Y/N’s head, his heart swelling with love and determination.

“Thank you for believing in me,” he whispered.

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with love. “Thank you for coming back to us.”

Lando leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “I’ll never leave you again.”

They continued to cuddle, the warmth of their love and commitment wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. As the night wore on, they talked about their dreams for the future, the plans for their baby, and how they would face everything together. Lando knew he had a lot to make up for, but with Y/N by his side, he felt ready to take on anything.

As they drifted off to sleep, still entwined on the couch, Lando whispered one last promise. “I love you, Y/N. Always and forever.”

She smiled, her heart full. “I love you too, Lando. Always and forever.

[onyourhyuck]

GOLDEN HOUR. | L.MK

— Prologue: “Excuse me waiter?”

— Summary: You’re a waiter and Mark Lee the local biker and infamous bad boy loves the eggs your diner makes, but now he wants a taste of you.

— Genre: Smut, smut smut. Minors DNI. Badboy biker!marklee. Waiter!y/n. Lots of degrading terms as well as praising (we lot a degradation + praise moment) Public sex. Literally they do it on his freaking BIKE. Hairpulling. Teasing. Y/n is a big fucking tease. Playful banter. Enemies to ???. Y/n is made to humble Mark Lee. Mark calls Y/n Good girl. Y/n has a hand kink. Mentions of rings/jewellery. Mark is a massive ass guy here. Groping. Spitting on her ass. Ass play. Male receiving head. Mark literally grabs y/n’s face and made her to submission.

— Notes: Mark’s song Golden Hour inspired me by this…. I will write an apology for this filth you’re about to witness.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You are a hard working woman, you love your work. You believe nothing comes easy in life so it’s useful to have hard shell around you to protect you from all sorts of evil this world has to offer. You don’t have the patience or the time to be wasting on useless things that do not serve you, your mind has always been set on this certain job you’ve been working on for a year nearly. You ended up loving it so much.

At first you weren’t sure if this job was the path you wanted to take but now you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You couldn’t careless if this job wasn’t going to pay you more than you needed in the next following years because as long as you are happy enjoying it; you thought screw it. This job may seem like a temporary waste but to you it was a long term source of your happiness and so many memories.

You’ve met good customers, some customers weren’t just as pleasant but nonetheless everyone you meet in this diner was a blessing in disguise.

Your coworkers were as equally happy to have you join them and light up this diner making it your own home. They wouldn’t change it for the world, you formed bonds no one could ever replace in your heart. To the point your boss was kind enough to promote you to head waitress diner and have made arrangements to have your own personal keys to the diner. So everytime you have yourself a night shift you can close down anytime you are done.

Your colleagues were glad to have you around the diner because without you many of them wouldn’t be able to get out there. Once a coworker you know couldn’t make it to the shift because of their blind date, you without any consideration stepped up and said you will take it. No matter how busy you are the diner comes first to you.

On this day you were opening the diner letting the customers in view come inside. It wasn’t busy and it was rather quiet in the morning. You couldn’t really tell what it was you’re feeling when it’s just you in the diner. No one else arrived and you were the first one.

You brush the broom on the floor sweeping the marble flooring the large diner owns, you hum a longing melody to yourself quietly as the empty diner leaves you waiting for anyone to come in, anticipating your colleagues and more. But the moment the front bell rang on the door making you swing your back straight to look at the front a gang of bikers pull up at the front entrance with their roaring lioness engines.

Wearing black and leather made up of straight skinned people, bandanas on the hairline or the beads — some wearing boots so heavy it made your own body shudder by the weight they are pulling on the feet itself. Streak of blonde hair entering the restaurant, wearing a brown leather jacket, a loose cast white shirt, the hair ruffled up and styled so lavishly it made him reek of trouble. You could smell it from miles away and it certainly wasn’t a pleasant fried egg smell it was a rotten roast of trouble smoking behind the young man.

It’s as if everything in the diner went dark and more silence came out than before even though it was only you in that diner. Somehow his company made you even more stunned. You don’t remember seeing him round here often enough because you remember everyone of your customers. You try to at least, and you’re more than sure that this man who strut in to your diner you’d remember a face like his.

Putting the broomstick on the wall you wipe your hands on the diner apron you have wore everyday your shift starts. Walking over to the table where that young blonde man with his obvious dyed hair and piercing cold eyes sat. Holding the menu in his hands you reopen you small notepad and take out an ink black pen.

You smile out. “Hello sir what will you be having today?” You say as if you weren’t saying this to everyone in your shift.

The young man hums out looking at you. “I have not decided just yet.” He was rather picky on which egg he wants today. You see, Mark loves his eggs a certain way. They have to be perfect and matching to the needs and cravings he has for a certain period of time. Unlike in your sight.

You tap your feet on the ground slightly staring him down after twenty minutes standing there. Mark kept his fingers gracing them on the menu at each egg point still not able to pick a damn meal. You slit your teeth together.

His fingers raided with diamond rings on them blink to the reflection of the light coming out the diner window could blind your almond doeish eyes. The way his hands were taking their dear sweet time reading every word, you couldn’t help but observe the size of his fingers and the beautiful flashy rings; you hated how your thoughts got unholy the moment his eyes saw your intense gaze at his fingers but he didn’t mention it. You wait at the counter staring him down into disbelief.

‘God I hope he didn’t see me staring at his hands.’ You wanted to mentally pray he didn’t. You told yourself to pretend like nothing has happened.

You’re back to being filled with annoyance to see more minutes passing by and the customer up front not choosing yet.

You love this job, okay, you really do. But you hate indecisive customers the fucking most.

‘Just pick something everything is eggs. What’s so hard about picking an egg.’ You wanted to scream to him, scream and tell him to get on with it. Eggs are eggs. They’re not much different to taste until you pick the seasonings.

“Are you here to eat or are you here to piss around causing trouble here?” You seethe gently trying to come out as passive aggressive. You don’t want to be rude but this boy was really tearing your patience apart from you. I mean, look at Mark. The young man came out lavish dressed just to look down at the diner menu and not pick a single thing over the next thirty minutes.

Mark flaunts at you with a wide smirk. “I dunno that depends on your answer.”

Your eyebrows rose up confused together, arching down like an innocent aisle. He couldn’t lie but he loved the way your reactions were so easy to read, he could tell he was annoying you and that’s exactly what he wanted to do. You cross your arms questioning that he might of came here with a higher purpose than to just eat eggs at your diner.

“What are you on about?” You ask out loud.

“What’s your name sweet lips?” Mark’s words echo right at you like a radioactive bomb flaming your skin open melting it like it were pure wax. You stare impatiently, clenching your jaw together. “It’s Y/n.”

Until you calm down your nerves you loosen up and reply unbothered, or you pretend to be. You won’t give him the attention. It’s clear he was flirting his way into your head and you can’t get away from it without putting on a professional fake smile. “Call me when you’re ready to eat.” You turn around walking away to clean more of the diner.

Mark’s eyes land on your back and down to your ass in that uniform the diner made all the coworkers dress in. He slants in the chair whistling as his eyes land on your legs, the thighs that touch each other, he loves seeing the way your thighs were both thick and soft looking. It reminds him of bedsheets in a way with how soft looking and clean they look. And your ass, don’t forget the way he could see it peeking out of that skirt. It was hard not to check you out. Actually it would be rude not to check you out, you look amazing. Your face card never declined in fact Mark saw you round the diner before but he never came to eat at this place he only saw you from afar. But everytime his biker gang and him rode in the street outside the diner, the boys mention you.

They speak often about you. It made him curious why they are talking so much about a young girl who’s just a simple diner girl, but now it all makes sense why they are talking. Why they’re discussing you of all people.

You were strong headed, professional, you were clearly smart enough not to fall for his lousy flirting skills he has to work on. But not only that it’s the way you were physically looking like straight out of a movie. Your body was indescribable. The way clothes made Mark frustrated on you, he never hated clothes so much before until now.

He shouldn’t be thinking these things but he was and unfortunately it was all your fault because you saw him checking you out in the corner of your eye, you knew and you saw it, it just left you smirking behind that innocent professional mask face you have on. In reality you were equally peeking interest at Mark when you saw a glimpse of his eyes stare at your ass.

But you didn’t want to show it. Of course you did not this is your workplace. You wouldn’t want someone as arrogant as Mark Lee to have the thing he wants so easily.

For once Mark looks like he actually wants something that is not eggs. He wants you.

“Excuse me waiter?”

Midway your work duties you hear the young man calling you over and you finally reach him with your impatient gaze. He loved seeing you worked up hearing him call you and somehow it made him want to sing to you. He looks up pushing the menu down. “Sunny side up.” Mark quotes proudly.

“Make the yolk in the middle right. I like it half cooked.”

‘God just make it yourself then.’ You wanted to say to him. Usually you’d be happy with suggestions, but not when a guy like Mark trouts in like he owns the freaking place.

You wanted to roll your eyes and tell him ‘Well now that wasn’t so hard was it to choose off the menu?’ But you hold your tongue tight and write it down. You gaze up at him.

“Do you want any drink with that? Toast?” You trail and Mark smirks leaning forward. “Is your number perhaps on those lists to serve?”

Your heart might escape your chest if he keeps on pestering you with his flirtatious tactics, you aren’t sure what you can and cannot handle but this beautiful man was a creature you couldn’t tame. Oh no, he was a wild one.

Your lips fell in a thin line. Your feet move forward and lean down in a ninety degree angle to grab the menu off his table with a slam to your palm. Mark’s eyes land down to your eyes, then to your beautiful pink chapped lips with a soft lipgloss glowingly and then his infatuated eyes land on the cleavage of your uniform.

His stare was so hungry. But something tells you it wasn’t for the eggs.

“One more flirtation and i will personally charge you more on your meal.” You threat.

He smiles, delusion all the way. “Was that a threat or a dare?” He couldn’t take you anymore seriously, but the way you push him back. He somehow knew you wanted him too.

You walk away scoffing. “Fuck around and find out. The more money for me.” You shrug going to the counter to prepare the food.

The sizzling from where you stand handling the heat was an impressive sight to say the least, Mark couldn’t make eggs, but he loves eating them. Despite not being able to make them it’s okay, because he never goes hungry thanks you and your diner. It was cheap and affordable for a high quality egg food you could munch on any time of the day and week. Somehow he never gets tired of it.

But what he was curious about was you. When you prepared the egg he saw you walk with his plate putting it on the table. But as you walk away and he starts to dig into the food, something underneath the plate moved and he flipped it open lifting it up. As the plate was lifting in the air a small white paper note curled up was found.

The plate was on the side and Mark slowly reveals it curiously wondering what was this, but as he did all the things he could’ve imagined were incorrect. Your handwriting struck him and it gave him a lingering hope.

The paper said your number, underneath a little message making Mark want to laugh.

‘You’re paying extra five on your order for my number :)’

He turns to look at you in front of the cashier station but you were already staring at him looking so smug. Your smile increased widely and his did too. ‘So you were interested, you just didn’t want me to know. God, you’re interesting.’ Mark practically vows. You’re unpredictable but you were something he wants to know.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The afternoon hits you and your coworkers trade the shifts. Your work has just ended but the moment it did one of your colleagues asked to to take her night shift.

You should have said no but you did not and instead you stayed behind watching everyone leave. Your boss told you to close up and you nodded bidding goodbye to them.

Now you’re alone and it’s getting darker outside. In fact it’s already quite pitch black and the stars are coming out alive and well.

You turn to the clock seeing the customer timings going by and closing so you walk to the door to turn the customer open board around to ‘closing hours now’ but the moment you did a hand on the door makes you jump.

He saw you scream holding your mouth but the moment realistically seeing Mark outside asking you to open the door made you feel slightly uneasy but you were glad to see the boy at the same time.

‘Geez he didn’t have to appear in like that.’ You swore he’s the death of you.

You felt embarrassed for becoming so jumpy. You open the door and Mark walks in. “Did i scare you out there?” Mark chuckles and you look away murmuring.

“I thought you were someone trying to break in.” You roll your eyes. “You never know what can happen in these areas.”

Mark follows you from behind as you welcome him into the empty diner leaving only you two. “Ay you won’t have to worry about that Y/n my darling, no one will break in with me here.”

Mark couldn’t help but check down your ass again as you turn around walking from the door. His playful voice carries in the distance of the diner like a tracking star. “Did anyone tell you that the diner uniform is hot on you?”

“You make me barf, Lee.” You scowl.

“You make me wanna do bad things Y/n.” He copies you.

‘He’s so childish.’ You state in disbelief.

“Do you always come in to bother me when no one else is around?” You sigh putting the cloth away on the counter and his torso leans on the cashier counter. He saw you behind leaning down with a righteous smirk.

“You haven’t kicked me out yet I must be doing something right here.” Mark really knows how to trick your buttons.

You clench your hands huffing. “The only thing you make me wanna do is wish i haven’t seen you tonight.”

Mark whistles. “God you’re so mean.”

You glare. “If you think I’m mean wait until you hear my thoughts.” You sent through your teeth at Mark and he smirks, no matter how much arguments you guys go through they tend to always end on a different note with him smiling and you becoming grumpy.

The conversation ended only to begin when the younger boy was busy watching you do your night shift duties. You were almost glad he was here in a way, it does her creepy at night when you’re the only worker here and only one person is closing down. It can get lonely and way too quiet for your liking. Mark is the perfect guy to keep around if you need a person who doesn’t know how to shut up.

He playfully adds. “I wanted to see you because i was nearby.”

You couldn’t believe him sometimes, but a small part of you wishes it was the truth coming out his mouth. Somehow this boy you only met this morning annoyed you, but he was damnly devilishly handsome no doubt attractive and he somehow got your number too.

You look down breaking away your hold eye contact, clearing your throat as you felt a sudden butterfly coming up your lips all the way from your stomach. “Don’t lie. You came here to annoy me isn’t that right. The Mark Lee i know only does it in for himself.”

He tilts his head grabbing a hold of your hand. “Well why don’t you come and get to know the real Mark Lee, Y/n?”

You twist your head at your hands touching it made your skin crawl eloquently as so calmly like the sea. Your eyes slowly began to walk towards his face. When mark saw your attention on him again, he spoke, even though your silence was deeply inside finishing him he wanted to try.

“What’s the real Mark Lee like?”

“I think you and the real Mark Lee, would get along quite well.”

Mark’s eyes look so pure in that moment you felt your heart pull on the heartstrings and you happen to find yourself choosing to be and go.

To try to persuade you to come with him. It made you think that maybe it’s not a bad idea to get to know Mark.

“How about we go see the Golden Hour together after your night shift ends?” Mark asked you,

And to his luck you were pretty convinced. Mark’s hands were attaching to yours, like a lock to a key. It felt right being held in his hands.

“Okay, take me with you.”

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On this night the natural black hugs the stars as a diner closes ending its peace and heading to sleep but only leaving to souls to find each other awake. You couldn’t help but dangle the keys to the diner, closing the door, making sure everything was perfect before you leave with Mark. The boy was patiently waiting for you in the front of the motor bicycle; his bike was an all black with two black helmets on the side in his two palms. He was watching you in that cute little diner uniform with heart eyes but you didn’t notice. You were too busy.

When you were satisfied you turn around and saw Mark smiling you down. You raise your eyebrows suspiciously, blurting out.

“What?” Your breathe was let out, approaching the bike now. Your eyes widen when the size of it was revealed and you can’t believe you’re going to be riding this now.

Mark turns around humming. “Oh nothing. This is yours.” He puts down his helmet and holding yours going towards you. You were stunned for a minute when two pair of hands put on the helmet for you on your head.

It felt like kindness has infected his pure heart with the love that you weren’t aware of yet. Mark freaking Lee was putting the helmet, strapping it down on your head without asking him to. At this point you weren’t sure what to say but his eyes saw your throat clench in surprise and your eyes widen a little on the front. He was up close with your heads nearing each other like cannon rounds because he wanted to strap the ends under the chin.

You murmur. “I could’ve done it myself you know…” mark looks up at you directly. “I know, I just wanted to do it for you.” He smiled and you saw him pull away like it was nothing.

He was the ace at everything. Mark lee had everything he could ever want but what he didn’t want before changed the minute he’s met you and now you’re everything he wants, needs and could possibly ask for for. You were someone he could speak to all day and feel as if you weren’t judging him you were listening instead on repeat. You don’t even have to talk because he could do the talking; instead you Will be listening to him with those beautiful robes your eyes provide and he will be happy. He wishes to see you smile again, and he’s going through changes he never expected from your presence. Such as helping you put the helmet on.

You approach the bike getting on. The helmet he has on covers most of his face but his voice was still the sameness kindness that attacks your hard solid heart you guard your heart with.

Mark looks down at his waist where he needed to see your hands and your hands were clinging on the leather jacket. Your hands were tempted to hold him there but your thoughts intervened making you pause and in panic you couldn’t bring yourself to hold him there.

“Hold me tight Y/n.” He says.

You were shy. “W…where? I am holding you tight.”

He chuckles a little bit wasn’t expecting it that your fingertips touching was considered ‘holding tight’ but nonetheless he pulled your wrists from behind suddenly and making you lean your chest on his back enough so your arms were wrapped on his waist like two red ribbons making a single knot together.

“No wrap it like this Y/n. Okay?” He softly spoke out and you couldn’t even comprehend the words were made with intention to have you safe.

You wondered if it just you or if it’s many people who see this side of him where Mark doesn’t have to keep an image around like a toy with a job constantly. Where he could just be Mark Lee. You wonder thinking perhaps not, because a guy like Mark Lee was trying to keep up to his reputation but around you it was getting no where near to impossible.

Your chin rests on his shoulders and the engine roars like a wild animal awakening. It terrified you but normally you would never get on this thing in your life, but now you’re not normal. You’re hanging out with Mark the guy who walked into your diner in the morning, made you annoyed but you found relatively attractive, ended up successfully getting your number and on a good note he waited for your night shift to take you somewhere else.

The man rumbled in the iron horse between his legs, and the miles sped away beneath its black wheels. He grinned despite himself through the shiny all jet black helmet as the wind whipped about it, and gave an unconscious squeeze to the lever on the great y-shaped rudder, coaxing yet more power from the magnificent machine. Ahead, in the distance, she spied the spires of the road, leaving the diner. Give him nothing but a straight up motorbike ride down the road right down to the sea, with a beautiful girl like you on it holding him tight because he could sense how terrifying it must be until the sight of the ocean hits your eyes you start to see the beauty of riding a rising bike everywhere, and he would ask for nothing more in this life or the next.

You see it was scary at first. Doing something completely new but you found yourself falling in love with how the nightfall beach looks like as the young man driving the bike slowly because he wanted to have you see it for longer. Or the beautiful breeze hitting your legs exposed and vast bits of your neck because your long hair was exposed to the wind flowing it back like a flag of a nation you’d be proud of. You felt surreal and it started to show that perhaps the driver riding you wasn’t a bad person but made up by your poor misjudgement instead. Your pride rather and he was simply an okay guy — actually not even an okay guy. He was just a straight up sweet guy underneath those needless reputation and hard tough persona. It made you conflicted at first before but now you’re convinced. That you might believe Mark’s got a side you haven’t met yet.

But that’s the story to living your life. You have to explore a new thing to be able to know if you like it or not and I guess it applies to Mark and You. You squeeze your arms round his waist and suddenly rest your head on his back as you listen to the quiet earth where everyone was asleep but you and Mark — listening to the wind that the wind blows from the front and you swore you could sleep to this tranquil silence and feeling.

He seethes out a smile feeling the arms tighten and he was happening to feeling a sense of proudness in him as he could make you enjoy this. From a severe anxious young waitress to a young woman enjoying the experience he couldn’t of been more happier than this. Than live in the moment with you.

He never lets anyone ride the motorcycle with him and you were the first woman and person itself to be able to go on. Even though he denies everyone he lets and offered you to go on. Even the previous woman he shown slight attention to in the past never had the chance because he flat out rejected the idea of anyone being on this thing. It was a precious item he holds dear to his heart and something within him accepted you to get on.

Treading to the secret location you’ve been waiting to know about you pull up to a mountain cliff sight area where the bike stops on the shoreline of the mountain. Not off the edge but close enough leaving you and Mark on the bike sitting at around five am. Mark lee was one of a kind man and when you tell yourself the view didn’t leave you gaping it left you gasping instead.

It was beyond anything you’ve ever seen. It was a whole different view of the city and you could see everything all at once. The glimpse of the beach was there in sight, the diner was somewhere around there, you could see the apartment blocks nearby which is where you live too. You were so far but everything you love dear to your heart was close in your eyes. All at once too. Mark truly knew this place would be the perfect fit for your bonding experience, or rather he would claim it as a date doing nothing but chatting with you.

Your helmets were off and he saw your moving gaze lovingly watching the beautiful scene. He smiles your arms never left his waist until you unlock them to get up and takes a closer look.

“Mark… when did you find this place. It’s beautiful. It’s anything I’ve ever wanted to see before.” Your voice itself was hyperbolic and hypnotising. You look thrilled and it was benevolently beautiful loudly.

He follows you standing on the edge of his bike and wrapping the helmets on the sides of the wheel where they hang. “Once I was driving one night and I happen to see this. I often come here when i can’t sleep so i go for a ride and come here.”

You turn around with crystal like eyes, they looked like pure gemstones with how shiny they are and even in the pure darkness they glow.

“Thank you. It’s very sweet of you to share this view with me.” You sigh out and let your arms roam the free air twirling around.

Mark grins out. “Any time. You’re the first person ever I’ve shown this too. So keep this a secret between us.” He told you. “I’d like it to be only you who knows of this place with me.”

The moment he said this your cheeks grew a little red and turning round to meet eyes with his personally grew stronger. There was a define element of possession here and you couldn’t help but let out a strain laugh hearing him.

You come forward slowly. “How come you’re so… nice to me? I mean how can i ever repay you for this. We only just met but you’re quite an enigma. You keep surprising me with your new sides.” Your voice trails softly easing your thoughts when his hands wrapped round your waist pulling you closer and seemingly you didn’t back or make any complaint you just stayed and following his strong hands where they push you in on his body closing your large gap that was punishing him by making you so far away.

His deep voice I’ve craved to answer me had a way of igniting my internal engine, just like he would light up a motorbike as if it knew I wanted to ride with him before I had a chance to process. “I don’t know I guess i… like you enough to say that I’d be raw and real with you.” He sounds husky and hoarse looking down with a dark half eye lid gaze. You couldn’t help but feel that maybe the tension between you was a sign call for help.

“How many have you been raw and real with like this?”

“None.” He quickly said. “Just you.” He told you softly It was the kind of deep voice that is so very easy to fall in love with, it was like a perfect harmony between cooking you have.

“You’re someone who’s… a first to my everything. My bike is off limits for everyone except me but here we are. You were sitting on my bike so nicely with that…” your ass was squeezed surprisingly you by that gentle yet hidden pleasing laying grope on your back.

Your face grew red but he knew that. It’s exactly why he did it and smirking down at you, you felt yourself feeling small and cautiously exposed but in a way you found butterflies in it.

He needed you just as bad and now you’re here needing him. He was real with you and that’s what made you shudder when you feel your heart escape your chest so much. All because of him and everything he does was a terror of attractiveness. He was breathing and you found his breathe even more beautiful. He was just there standing and breathing looking you up and down with an intense stare.

And you’re here trying to figure out what and how was this man created into existence. He felt like something you knew for years and years in your head and at the same time something you’ve never known in your life for years and years until now.

“Are you always this…” you stop talking and stare down at his lips. “Never mind… kiss me please… I’m going insane.” You held your teeth together for a minute until he was glad to hear you consent because God knew, he couldn’t stop you from kissing once he began tasting your lips.

It was a very easy decision to make when Mark saw the offer you made him, your lips crash on top of each other like a gentle road on a wheel. It was a smooth transition. It felt heavenly however. You couldn’t compare any feeling of Mark’s lips the way they made you feel so complete in many ways, it was a sensual passionate makeout between them leaving the air round them to be sucked in faster. Your breathes were doing magic together, compiling as one source keeping your fast bodies going somewhere.

The makeout was a speedy and intense success knowing your chest was thumping probably so freaking hard but you weren’t focusing on that. You were focusing on the way his tongue intrudes in your territory so freely and with ease across your tongue wrapping round it keeping you guessing what’s happening next. Your bodies swung around switching positions with Mark no longer slanting on his bike and you now pressed against the machine. Your back resting on the bike leaving you climbing on it where your hands were wrapping up and down his clothes chest and the neckline.

Your hair was pushed back because his hands were crawling down your legs caressing them and softly rubbing the softness of your thighs in that skirt that’s been driving him mad the entire day.

He couldn’t wait to just strip it fucking off your body you had no idea how much he’s been imagining it to the point his imagination couldn’t save him from holding back anymore. You were equally eager it seems though when your tips pinch the belt on his jeans he found himself growing exciting in the shares of your kiss.

His voice pulls you away and your mouth crawls to his jawline and on the sides, you lick down his Adam’s apple. “A bit impatient are we? You’re looking at me with so much impatience.” He felt so many shivers with your teeth grazing his skin so much it drove him right off the edge.

You bring your swollen red lips apart. He swore he saw fire in those awoken eyes of yours. You pull him on the bike and you swap positions once more where you suddenly go on your knees pulling down the trousers.

“You can’t blame me being impatient when you’re looking at me like that…” your words slant themselves and he chuckles deeply hearing this. When his pants fell down your eyes gawk at the sight of his rock hard member in the front your hands couldn’t hold back, you touch it instantly and he vows down at you going. “I’ve been here impatient a little longer than you darling. Why don’t you be a good girl and help me out and i promise — you will get a good reward.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Your saliva spits down on his erected cock and he could just twitch by the warmth of your shared saliva from your intense makeout a minute ago. His head swung back when you first take him in very softly by doing small kitten licks and eventually engulf him into a welcoming home of your inner mouth where your scorching tongue felt like million pieces burning. Somehow that burn became something enticing and thrilling though because even though it was so intense it became more intense that you get addicted. And that’s exactly what Mark went through.

Your mouth was an extraordinary thing and It certainly wasn’t the only thing it was good at. He watches you with a dark lingering gaze that could be darker than the night sky above you both. You fell in love with how he watches you, intensely with his eye locks on you sucking him in so deeply. Making sure every length and part of him was in your mouth. Your deep throating gave him enough time to clench the bike a few times and once even made him groan out a little louder than a few hisses there and then.

“That’s my girl. You’re doing such a good job.” His hands grazed your hair sweeping it up and gently holding it into a ponytail in his hands between the diamond rings that blight you. You felt your stomach turn hearing this and pull apart your lips to make a pop and only to go and suck him in again which leaves him expediting a whole new feeling in the world. You were throating him so hard, it could bruise your mouth but you could not care.

You wanted it to leave a mark. You wanted this to remind you of this experience that you’re doing in the wide open slot.

Mark grunts. “Shitshitshit, careful. I don’t want to cum just yet.” He said pulling your head apart from his cock that was twitching and begging to have a release of its own but Mark had other plans for you and him. As your head was thrown back with a rug to your hair in that ponytail he scraped the remaining drool around your mouth with his thumb.

You swore you could’ve melted on your knees if you weren’t on them already because it was unbelievably sexy watching a man like Mark touch your swollen and reddish lips all from sucking him near to dry and kissing him like it was the end of the world looking you down and gently wiping it clean, with his thumb. You could lose your mind. This man was effortlessly attractive. He was like a whole package to uncover.

Suddenly a pair of fingers have been crossed in your mouth and you didn’t fight back at it as Mark leers down at you. “Suck on them darling.” And you did just as he told you to sucking his fingers until he pulled it away from your lips coating them with your thick and warm saliva.

Your positions switch again this time you’re on the bike again forced to be seated on it with your legs wide open and spread ready for Mark who was leaving you impatient. The skirt was lifted up leaving your white panties exposed and he looks up at you, smirking. You could feel a slight warmth on your face growing again and not only that, once his fingers press on your clit through the panties lining all he could see was a soaking mess.

He was amazed, by this huge effort he has on you. “Y/n I wasn’t aware you’d be this wet i haven’t even touched you yet. ” He leans closer and you turn away avoiding his gaze as you stutter out. “I- can we…get to the fun part.” You mention and he lets out a smile leering it back at you. “Oh trust me love it’s coming.”

You weren’t a fan of his teasing but you couldn’t help but feel mesmerised when he slid down your panties to the side and an accidental touch on his metallic diamond rings makes you twist and turn your head back in a pleasuring awe. At first Mark thought it might’ve been his fingers but when he realised it was his rings he couldn’t smirk at the thought he had. The fingers coating by your saliva pushing deep in your waterfall of a cunt only to have the big diamond rings digging in too much. You choke out your words, but he wanted you to shout to the rest of your lungs till you couldn’t speak anymore tomorrow for your next shift.

Worst thing was that you’ve been imagining this all day since the morning you’ve met Mark. You were creating scenarios with his hands all along and which is why you’re so wet. It was sexual frustration but at the same time, you felt rewarded by this. Mark knew all along you wanted him just as much as he wanted you but of course you tried to hide it by being professional — now answer this where did all the professionalism go? He wanted to laugh but he wanted to see you lose yourself before he does.

Your eyes were obsessed by watching his hands go so deep into your hole that you wanted to see how much you will come. You were pressing at your deep end soon, you could sense a few strings in your stomach boiling for a release you were so close.

Mark mockingly adds. “This is what you wanted all along isn’t it? I saw the way you were checking my hands in the morning. You wanted them to do stuff like this to you.” He looks at your exposed cunt in the public domain with wind cushing at you and you weakly murmur your groans. “Maybe you wanted my fingers to do this?” His thumb pressed down on your clit moving it in circular motion. While his other fingers were occupied by your insides pulling it inside more and more.

The overstimulation did you great because the next minute Mark was welcoming a wave of gushing liquid running down your thighs and into his lap where you shockingly gasp out your high moans on your releasing resort. He was so proud of himself and of you for taking everything he gave you but that didn’t stop him from suddenly roughly slamming you down into the seat more and slinging his erected tip and length to your entrance, you weren’t given enough time but when he kissed you to lead you into him and to focus on to him and not your large orgasm; you couldn’t help but feel calmer and allow the burning stretch of his big girth cock entering you. Your body clench tightly but he massaged down your waist and hips when he feels the urge to your body to clutch.

“That’s right baby taking me so well. Now turn around and press your stomach flat on the bike.” You couldn’t help but turn around and you felt him go even more than before deep working you from head to toe making you squelch with how wet and lubricant everything you had. Mark was insane for just making you press hard on your back so your stomach was flatly on the metallic machine and leaving you on your arms supporting by your elbows.

He wants you to see the view as you’re getting your brains fucked out hopefully you’ll remember everything. He has no doubts you will because the minute the Golden Hour appears, your brain will be taking a photogenic picture in your memory engraved as you’re floating naked on his bike getting your shit wrecked by him. The first ram made you curse strings you weren’t expecting it to make you shake on the first try and go it’s as if he was exceedingly amazing to rock you back and forth in the middling position. Your body clenching underneath him letting your ass jiggle back and forth between the bodies. His weight was heavy on yours and he kept on ramming until he was satisfied with it.

The speed wasn’t slow at all. It was fast and hard. You weren’t sure what’s happening at one point you were lost in all the pleasure you lost your sense of time and presence as well as your self identity. You were going places with Mark Lee rucking against you so good his length tip touched the peek of your g spot making you come more than once, this man behind you fucking you made you come so many times it left you dripping out for everyone to see.

“If only you could take a look at you. You’re dripping on the grass and down my bike.” He roughly slits between his teeth, speaking in broken sentences.

You couldn’t help but grow embarrassed. But Mark loved it seeing you become so actively engaged in with him and his pleasure giving you whiplashes.

You’re in the public sector where people can come and go but since it’s this late you weren’t worrying but the thought of someone walking by at this time walking on you two made this everything ten times more arousing and thrilling for the both of you. You both enjoy being seen like this fucking like animals until you were stuffed and full of him and until you only can think about him, he won’t stop.

Mark bellows at you every time, he said all sorts of things but nothing crazier than him losing his mind to you. “I bet you want people to walk around us and see your dripping wet cunt getting stuffed with my fat cock. I bet you want them to see how much you’re soaking bending over my bike and getting slut out in the open shamelessly like this.”

His fingers tug on your hair lifting you up when the time has come suddenly swing your head upwards enough to leave you choking out your moans. “Now look up at this, beautiful. It’s the Golden Hour.” And your eyes widen seeing the magnificent skies.

The Golden Hour leads you like a tunnel into a whole new haven offering where the sunlight was waking up and so were the people around from the slumber. Your eyes welcome the Golden Hour, that iris of fire so pretty in its devotional image reminding you of the ocean waves but instead they were bright orange, mixing in with the beautiful ember red and the bright yellow equalling to the sun. It left you stunned for a minute and Mark saw your beautiful expression smiling at it. ‘It’s beautiful’ you thought.

He kissed your shoulders momentarily bringing you back and he thrusts deep within inside you again and again until your legs were physically turning into snapping bridges where no one could cross over again.

You cross out holding your mouth when voices in the distance has you questioning the whole presence you weren’t sure why people were waking up this early, but you’d effectively heard a man and a dog barking in the distance. Your moans were hidden into your mouth and Mark whispering chuckling at your attempt to hide them out.

But as much as you tried to hide and conceal your moans you could not thanks to Mark roughly punishing you with his cock growing deep in you. “Awh what’s this hiding your perfect noises you’re making? Darling let them see you so they know how perfect you are.” He gnaws at your brain leaving you helpless and you achingly whimper out.

He spanks your ass once more roughly and gropes it. He could never get tired of your ass for once more. “I’m going to come now.” His teeth clatter as he spoke out final words before grunting releasing bits of his come inside you but pulling out and covering your ass a little too. You ooze out and he couldn’t help but want to replay this image of you stuffed and oozing out him out of you was the hottest thing he could have witnessed.

You try to lift yourself up only to nearly fall backwards fixing your skirt but a figure behind you caught you and you make eye contact with him once more. Mark smirks down at you watching how your legs were shaking and he held your skirt get pulled down and your panties back up.

You couldn’t help but feel hopeless once more, murmuring. “I could’ve done it.” You say softly and he looks at you with eyes that resemble boba pearls.

“I know.” He leans down capturing your kiss softly, putting the belt around his trousers meanwhile he was lost on the feeling of you on his lips. “But I wanted to do it for you.”

“But i…”

He pulls away holding your face with his hands pulling you to face him when you were about to look away and disagree with him doing things for you. “No buts. How about we take a ride and see more of the Golden Hour and then…”

“And then?” Your eyes rose up waiting to hear an answer but Mark smirks shrugging. “And then you can stay over at my place and rest, how does that sound?”

You chuckle. “Okay sounds good to me, Mark.”

You feel yourself becoming part of him. This golden hour will forever hold a special place in your heart.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Please reblog and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out <3

[lyv-writes]

quick to break: frank castle x reader

words: 5,596

warnings: explicit smut, afab!reader, blowjobs, face-fucking, consensual vaginal sex, mild cock worship, manhandling, spanking, praise kink, strength kink, mating press, choking kink, use of the term “little girl” but not in a ddlg way, more in a patronizing way??? and only like 3 times, honestly pureee filth. i came back with a vengeance, aftercare, cuddling after sex (truly the biggest warning)

notes: had to come back with a bang…literally. horrible pun, i know. please enjoy and feel free drop an ask in my inbox! :D this was also cross-posted on ao3 <3

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡ ･ﾟﾟ･

Frank Castle.

Even the name was daunting, looming over you like a castle at the top of a hill. Walls impenetrable; no one got in that wasn’t wanted. He oozed control, of which Frank had a lot of.

Control over the scumbags of Hell’s Kitchen, causing even the most dangerous of men to move underneath his radar for fear of him catching wind of them. The images of the bodies he left scattered in his wake more than likely the first thing they think about when they wake up, and the last they think about when they lay their head on their pillow.

Control over himself, the patience on the vigilante running far deeper than anyone would expect with his gruff personality. It comes with the territory, spending hours staking out buildings, days following criminals, months jumping from goon to goon, working his way up to the big bosses. That was no easy task, oftentimes returning to his loft seething, having to remind himself that running in half-cocked would only get him killed before he accomplished his goals, before he fulfilled his purpose.

His favorite place to exert his control, however, was you. As of late, he finds his veins thrumming with a different kind of adrenaline—one that he can only find in taking you apart piece-by-piece, and putting you back together, not a thought in your head other than being good for him. He craves that control, in a way he only previously associated with the feeling of pulling the trigger of his gun with the barrel pressed against the head of some killer/smuggler/trafficker/piece of shit.

What made it so sweet was how willingly you gave it to him. He didn’t have to chase you down, didn’t have to break you to get you to bend for him.

He simply asked. Sometimes, demanded, if the mood called for it.

Even if he didn’t do either, you could tell what he needed with a look, and you were more than happy to help take some of that weight off of his shoulders.

It didn’t take much for you to realize Frank was holding back the first couple times you two slept together. The first time, you thought nothing of it, the moment being full of love, passion, truly an act of devotion between the two of you. It was sweet, it was perfect, it made you wish that your first time had been like that, with him. You finished together, kissing each other through it with wandering hands. Falling asleep in his arms that night, felt like a missing piece falling into place.

After a while of being together, and more than a few nights spent tangled with each other under sheets, it was a rare night where you and Frank could lose yourselves in each other's company, that you had ventured into new territory.

Driven by a night full of fleeting touches, ignoring the outside world for just a moment, the two of you stumbled into your apartment, lips reluctantly leaving each other only to shed your coats. You followed it up with your dress, and Frank impatiently unbuttoned his black dress shirt as you were already dropping to your knees, hands fumbling with his belt and unfastening his pants before he had even shed his shirt. You traced your lips over his clothed erection, nuzzling against his bulge before fixing your lips over his tip, lapping at him through his boxers.

His cock twitched at the feeling of your warm breath caressing him through the cloth and before he could say a word you had hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down to meet his pants in a heap around his ankles, his cock springing free from its confines. You looked up to see him looming over you, hard cock hovering over your face as he pulled up the white tank top he wore underneath his button-up, revealing his stomach, solid, yet soft enough to melt under the press of your finger. He stepped out of his bottoms and kicked them to the side, and stepped towards you again, pressing the underside of his cock against your tongue.

“Please, Frankie, fuck my throat,” You whimpered, hands resting on his thighs, still pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses on the head of his cock and down his shaft. The only thing that had been on your mind all throughout dinner was treating Frank the way he deserved.

He did so much for you, for the city, you wanted him to be selfish for once, to take what he needed from you. You began stroking his length slowly, looking up at him through your lashes as you lapped at his slit, a groan coming from deep in his chest at your words coupled with your filthy actions. Your words came out slurred, lips still pressed to his cock and eyes glassy. “Wan’ you to, really, really do.”

Frank swallowed hard, gathering your hair together in a ponytail in his fist, his other hand coming down to caress your cheek softly. “You sure, baby?” He asked, voice tight with restraint. You had no idea how badly those words made him want to see you gag on his cock as he sinks into your throat, but you were so sweet, so soft.

The two of you hadn’t discussed making things a little more intense in the bedroom, too satisfied with being joined together so intimately. Frank knew that he could get a little lost in it sometimes, forgetting his own strength when wrapped up in the moment, but he made sure to take care with you.

Frank was all too happy to take things at your pace, just having you to himself being enough for him. “Wouldn’t wanna hurt that pretty throat a’yours.”

You shook your head, a dreamy smile on your face as you picked up the pace of your strokes. “You won’t hurt me, Frank. I trust you.”

He took a deep breath, feeling a bit selfish at giving into your request so easily, but he couldn’t deny that he desperately wanted to see if your throat could take his cock as good as your cunt did. And who was he to tell you no when you asked for it so sweetly. “Just tap my thigh if you need me ‘ta stop, okay?”

“Okay, Frankie,” you breathed, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation of feeling Frank use some of that strength you knew was hiding under his soft flesh against you.

Frank’s nighttime activities have never bothered you, in fact, quite the opposite. You found his sense of justice, the drive to do what needs to be done, admirable, irresistible. You couldn’t help but adore him—feel safe with him. You knew that if your friends and family knew who Frank really was, they would question your sanity. How in the world could you feel safe with someone who could be so violent, so bloodthirsty?

But you knew he would never hurt you.

You found comfort in how capable he was at keeping you safe. Knowing he would do anything to protect his own—you were convinced that if the world went to complete shit you would remain unaffected in Frank’s loft, shielded in your very own fortress, just the two of you.

The way you felt safe, cared for as his body hovered over yours on your bed, was something like you had never felt before. You knew you could only ever feel this safe with Frank.

Seeing the look of unadulterated adoration on your face, the way you so eagerly lapped at his cock as you waited for him to finally sink into your awaiting mouth, had him groaning, his cock twitching against your tongue at the sight. After a steadying breath, his grip tightened in your hair and he slowly entered your mouth, feeding you his dick until his tip was hitting the back of your throat with a moan at the sound of you gagging around his length.

“Relax, baby, lemme in,” he grunts, his face pinched in concentration as he focuses on not hurting you, no matter how badly he wants to shove you down on his cock. With short, steady thrusts he works open your throat, pulling back out till the tip was resting on your tongue before plunging back in just a little bit further. “That’s it, baby— shit.”

His sounds have you moaning lightly around his length, eyes glazed over and looking up at him as he takes such care in making sure you can take him without harm. You relax as much as you can for him, taking deep breaths through your nose as he sinks further into your throat. The taste of him is heady, causing arousal to coat your slit as you work your tongue against the underside of his cock.

“Atta girl,” he purrs, the last inch of his cock sliding down your throat. He groaned, pumping his hips shallowly as he tipped his head back and you whined at the sight of him, shirt pulled up to his chest, a sheen of sweat covering his chest and shoulders.

The light from the ceiling haloed around him, an angelic image towering above you. You could worship him forever, you realized, as you felt his thrusts pick up speed, pulling out from your throat and plunging back in. With that thought, the last of the tension that was strung tight in your body dissipated and you knew Frank could feel the difference with the moan that slipped from his throat.

He was seated to the hilt, your nose pressed tightly to the trimmed patch of hair at the base of his cock. You struggled to get a breath in through your nose as he relished in the way your throat fluttered around his cock. With your eyes rolling back slightly, the lack of oxygen had your head swimming, your heartbeat thumping in your clit at the feeling.

Frank opened his eyes, dropping his gaze to where you were kneeled before him, eyes rolled back at the feeling of him filling your throat and he picked up his speed again with a loud moan. His balls slapped against your chin as he used your throat like it was a fleshlight, and you snaked your hand down to the apex of your thighs, sliding past your panties to your soaked core.

The feeling of your fingers against your clit had you moaning loudly around his cock, the vibrations from your throat dislodging a loud moan from his throat. “Such a good fuckin’ slut f’me, gettin’ off from havin’ my cock in your throat.”

His words had you whining, not expecting the filth that dripped from his tongue. Frank was very vocal in bed—telling you how good you feel, moaning into your ear as he sinks into you. But he was so vulgar, it had you rutting against your fingers at the same pace he fucked into your throat.

No matter how badly you wanted to get him off with just your mouth, to feel him cum down your throat, you needed him inside you so desperately. Finally giving in, the war in your mind ceased as you tapped lightly on his thigh, signaling for him to stop.

“Fuck, baby, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Frank asked quickly, worry lacing his words as he gently pulled out of your throat. His eyes met yours and widened slightly in awe at you, seeing the dopey smile on your face and the way you nosed at the flesh of his tummy.

“Not at all, Frankie,” you assured, your voice a little raspy before pressing a kiss to the skin above his belly button. You continued to litter kisses all over the skin you could reach, pulling a soft chuckle from Frank as he carded his fingers through your hair softly. “S’good, so good, jus’ need you real bad.”

“Yeah, baby?” He asks, a teasing grin on his face. “Need my cock in that cute little cunt’a yours? Bet that’s why you were humpin’ your hand while suckin’ me off.”

Nodding quickly, you stand on wobbly legs. Frank steadied you as you swayed towards him with a giggle before you shimmied out of your panties, grinning up at him cheekily. Linking his fingers with yours, you drag him down the hall into your bedroom, yelping at the smack he lands on your ass as you're crawling onto the bed.

Situating yourself on your hands and knees, you wiggle your ass at Frank teasingly, shooting him a coy smile over your shoulder. “Please, Frankie…need’ta feel your big dick stretching out my pussy.”

With a wolfish grin, he pulls his tank top over his head, grin turning into a smirk at the way your eyes rake over his body, admiring his strong torso before your eyes settle on his cock. It stood proud, mushroom tip flushed a deep red, pre-cum beading at the tip.

Mounting the bed behind you, he presses a palm between your shoulders until your chest is flush with the bed, presenting your slick cunt for his eyes. His rough hands knead the plush flesh of your ass, groaning at how wet your tight hole is for him. You feel his hand leave you and then come back down, landing a hard smack! to your ass, forcing a moan from your throat.

Frank watches the way your ass jiggles with hungry eyes, chuckling lowly at the loud moan you released. “Does my girl like it when I slap her pretty ass, hm?”

His hand comes down again on your other cheek, the stinging pain morphing into pleasure that pooled in your core. You felt slick leak from your core, face flushing knowing that Frank has the perfect view of your sodden cunt. That thought is confirmed when his thumb drags from your entrance to your clit, rubbing your slick around the tender bud slowly. “You really like that, don’t’cha, angel?”

His thumb added more pressure to your clit, circling it faster before slowing down again. He sped up again, feeling the way you inched closer and closer to your climax before slowing down again.

“Never would’a thought my sweet girl liked bein’ roughed up so much,” he mused, his grin clear in his voice. His thumb was replaced with two fingers, circling your clit a couple more times before dipping down to your entrance, prodding against the tight hole. You clench around nothing at the feeling of Frank’s fingers ghosting against your entrance, drawing another breath of a laugh from him.

“That why you wanted me to fuck your pretty little throat?” Frank asked, burying two of his fingers inside you the knuckle, the feeling of your walls stretching around them making you whine. “My little girl like it when I push her around a bit? When I use her like the little toy she is?”

A moan left your lips as Frank crooks his fingers, searching for that soft spot inside you, and it sends you reeling when he finds it. It feels like the air has been punched from your lungs at the way he bullies the spot, fucking you open on his fingers with fervor. Frank’s fingers were twice the size of yours, and long enough to reach the most delicious spots inside you.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, the force of his fingers forcing moans and incoherent mumbles from your lips. A cry tore from your lips as his hand struck your ass again, immediately repeating the action on the other cheek.

The pain mixed with pleasure had you gushing around his fingers, the sound of them fucking into you, lewd and wet, had your ears turning red. Without warning, your climax swept you under, your body tensing and trembling as white spots clouded your vision. Frank fucked you through your high with his fingers, slowing down until he was still, buried to the knuckle as your cunt fluttered around him.

As your orgasm subsided, you felt yourself relax, slumping further against the bed as Frank gently pulled his fingers from your twitching hole.

“Did so fuckin’ good f’me, baby,” Frank praises, draping his body over yours to press kisses across your back and shoulders. His hands trail from your hips, up your sides and squeeze at the plush flesh of your waist before dragging them back down to your hips and repeating the process.

His cock is hot against your lower back, hard length rutting slowly against your ass as he continues to ghost kisses across your skin. “Such a good fuckin’ girl—my good fuckin’ girl.”

A content hum builds in the back of your throat and you roll over on your side just enough to look back at Frank, your chest tightening at the grin stretched across his face. Frank’s smile always had your heart screeching to a halt in your chest, and you were sure your eyes turned to hearts at the sight.

“‘M all yours, Frankie,” you say with a sigh, pursing your lips at him to ask for a kiss.

He wastes no time in fulfilling your request, pressing his lips to yours in a deep kiss. You can feel his love pouring into you through the kiss, as if your souls were connected where your lips met. The kiss was broken all too soon by the smile that stretched across your lips. His smile soon mirrored yours until you were smiling fondly at each other, foreheads pressed together and breaths mingling in the close space.

“Are you okay to continue?” Frank asks, tone soft as he bumps his nose gently against yours. “We can stop here, baby. You’ve been so perfect.”

The tiredness that you feel is still tinged with an undercurrent of need, still craving to be so intimately connected with Frank. The feeling of his cock, hard and warm against your skin only solidified your thoughts. Pressing another soft kiss to his lips, you pull away just far enough to murmur, “Fuck me, Frankie.”

With a groan and a satisfied grin, Frank’s hand snaked down between the two of you, guiding his cock to glide along your slick folds. Your mingling breaths soon became shared moans as he pressed his dick flat against your cunt, lubing up his cock with your wetness. A whine hitched in your throat as his head nudged at your entrance until it gave way, allowing him to work his thick cock inside your tight hole.

Despite him getting you ready with his fingers, the feeling of him stretching you out in his cock had heat engulfing your body, your mouth opening in a silent moan at the never-ending feeling of him filling you. He finally met the end of you, pressing himself further just for good measure before pulling back till just the tip was seated in your cunt.

He leisurely plunged his cock back into you, allowing you to feel the way his dick carved a path inside you. You loved the way Frank always looked out for you, always put your needs before his own when it came to acts of intimacy. But right now you wanted—no, you needed him to take what he wanted.

“Frankie,” you whined, arching your back to press your ass against his hips, taking his cock completely. “Please, fuck me, Frank. Don’t hold back.”

A rough groan passes his lips, his hips pressing further against yours at your words. “Fuck, babydoll, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t, Frankie,” you urge, looking at him with your face pressed against the mattress. “I’m not quick to break—promise. Please, Frankie, fuck me hard.”

He could hear the desperation in your voice, the way your lip trembled and brows pinched together as you looked up at him. Surging down to grab your jaw with his hand, he held your face still to press his lips urgently to yours, tongue demanding entrance before he pulled away, string of spit connecting your tongues.

Frank pulled away enough to look you in your eyes, making sure there wasn’t a trace of hesitation. Instead he found lust, hunger, love, as you smiled up at him once more. His voice was firm, more firm than you had ever really heard him be with you. “You tell me to stop, I stop immediately, do you understand, babydoll?”

“Yes, sir,” you responded immediately, the honorific just sounding right in the context. “I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.”

His gaze darkened at the sound of the title you used for him and he nodded at your agreement, dropping a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good girl.”

His words washed over you like a warm breeze, sinking you further into the fuzzy headspace that you always felt bleeding at the edges of your vision when it came to being intimate with Frank.

You felt Frank straighten back up, his hands trailing your shoulders, softly down your sides to settle at your hips. Slowly, so slow it was agonizing, he pulled his cock from your wet channel, just the tip nestled into your heat. Despite the instinct to brace for the impact of his hips on yours, you forced yourself to relax, further melting into the mattress to show Frank just how much you wanted everything he had to give.

Frank stayed still, enjoying the visage of you so submissive for him. Presenting your sweet cunt so eagerly for him, like a bitch in heat begging to be bred. His cock pulsed where it sat snug in your entrance at the thought.

You started to get antsy, wanting to look over your shoulder to see what Frank was thinking, but wanting to stay still and be good for him. Just when you considered wiggling your hips, hoping to spur him on, he filled your weeping cunt in one fell stroke.

A cry was wrenched from your throat at the feeling of him filling you so completely, not sparing a second before he was pistoning his hips against yours. With your eyes rolling back in your head at the feeling of his tip bullying your cervix, you felt the curve of his dick brushing against that spongy spot inside you.

The pleasure was almost too much, your fingers tightening in their grip on the sheets and trying to drag yourself away from the feeling. With a grunt, Frank wrenched your hand out of the sheets, hand circling tightly around the bend of your elbow as he pulled you back towards him. His hips picked back up their rhythm, hand landing a thundering smack on your ass cheek as he fucked into you.

“Don’t try runnin’ now, little girl,” Frank grunted, landing another harsh smack against the raw flesh of your ass. “You asked for this.”

He was being borderline mean, his tone cold and detached as he used your body to chase his release, and his words had a loud moan breaking free from your throat. It only had you growing wetter, the squelching sounds of him railing your cunt increasing in volume, along with your moans.

You knew that if you wanted it to stop, you could say so, and you trusted Frank to keep his word. But it was so perfect, the pain burning in such a euphoric way, it was too much and not enough all at once.

“F-fuck, sir— unh! ” Words fell from your lips, incoherent babbles of his name mixing with your moans creating the most beautiful symphony in the silence of the room. “So good—so full, fuck.”

His hips came to a stop, pulling out so quickly you didn’t even realize until he was manhandling you onto your back. His eyes took you in from your face to the wet heat at the apex of your thighs, unconsciously licking his lips at the sight of you clenching around nothing.

“Kiss me, Frankie, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist and dragging your wet core against his cock.

He’s never been able to deny you anything, even now, his hard exterior dropping to press a languid kiss to your lips. You gasp against his mouth, his tongue taking advantage of the noise to slip in alongside yours. He pulls back just enough to murmur, “Bein’ such a good little toy for me, baby.”

His hips rut against you, grinding perfectly against your clit. His words send your mind floating off into the clouds, happy, sated knowing that you’re being good for him, that you’re taking all that he gives just how he wants you to.

You’re so lost in the kiss, the feeling of his chapped lips against yours, the warm weight of his hand caressing the side of your cheek, you don’t even notice him drag his cock down to your entrance. With a sharp thrust, he bottoms out once more, relishing in the way your eyes widen at the unexpected stretch, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

Frank licks into your mouth one final time before pulling away, planting one hand on your hip and the other around your neck. He gives your neck a gentle squeeze, your eyes focusing on him and seeing the silent question in his eyes. You nod quickly, failing to form the words of encouragement he needed, but whatever he saw on your face was confirmation enough.

His grip on your throat tightened, blood rushing in your ears at the light feeling in your head. Frank cursed, hips stuttering against yours at the way you clenched around his cock, almost making it hard for him to pull out and press back in smoothly.

Frank can feel your walls fluttering around him, the signs of your climax approaching has him doubling his efforts. The hand that was on your hip leaves a trail of fire as he moves it to your mound, thumb ghosting over your clit and making your hips buck against his thumb at the feeling.

The sweet abyss of release was so close you could taste it, sweet on your tongue. You were desperate for it. Your hands clutched his shoulders, nails digging into the skin hard, dragging down in your pleasure fueled daze, leaving stinging, red marks in your wake.

“Please, please, please,” you mumbled, your brain melting underneath Frank’s weight as you felt his hands grab at your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest as he settled his weight over you. His cock pressed deeper into your core, the deepest anyone had ever been. “O-oh, God, Frankie—can feel you in my tummy, baby— ah! ”

Your voice was nothing more than a shrill whine, all the air punched out of your lungs at the change in position. His weight was comforting around you as he molded your cunt around his cock. You were sure you would never be the same after this, he had broken you down and rebuilt you in the same breath.

His fingers worked quick circles around your clit as he huffed, his pace slowing slightly, allowing him to hit deeper, harder. His hand is still loosely circling your throat, no longer squeezing but acting as something to ground you. Despite your previous orgasms, you know this will be intense. You can feel it building, but it feels slightly different, the pressure building more than usual.

“C’mon, little girl, you’re gonna give it t’me,” Frank grunts, angling his hips for that little spot that makes you feel like you could float away from your body. His hand tightens around your neck, your moan cut off into a ragged breath. “Cum around my dick so I can breed this tight little cunt, y’want that don’t you?”

“God, yes!”

In a flash, flames envelop your body, toes curling as your vision goes spotty at the force of your orgasm, leaving you cumming with a cry. Frank’s hand releases your throat, the oxygen rushing back through your veins making the sensations more intense. You’re so fucked out, you didn’t notice the way you soaked the lower half of Frank’s body, your arousal dripping down his hips and drenching the sheets.

Frank’s hips collide with yours, once, twice, before stilling, painting your sensitive walls with his thick spend. The feeling of him filling you with his seed, grinding his hips against yours and stimulating your tender bud, has you moaning softly as an aftershock rolls through you.

The air around you is still, thick with the scent of sweat and sex. Frank gently lowers your legs, pressing featherlight kisses to your face at the sight of you wincing in discomfort. Tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, you drag his mouth over yours, pressing a deep, unhurried kiss to your lover’s lips.

Frank’s softened cock is still wrapped in your velvet heat, both of you enjoying the feeling of being so close, feeling like you are one entity instead of two individuals. You had never understood the appeal of cockwarming until now, pressed to the bed with the weight of Frank’s body laid atop yours, joined in the most intimate way.

Finally parting for breath, Frank presses his forehead against yours, eyes closed as he melts under your nails scratching lightly at his scalp. His words are slurred in contentment. “Wasn’t too rough, was I?”

Shaking your head softly against his, you smile softly at his serene face. You only ever see Frank this at ease when he’s asleep, the only time the man indulged in being vulnerable. “Not at all, Frank.”

Pulling back far enough to meet his gaze, your hand falls to cup his cheeks. “It was perfect. You’re perfect, Frankie.”

It never fails to amaze him how you’re able to quiet the voices in his head, the ones that nag at him, nasty, cruel voices that spit venomous words. His whole being is still. Right now, intertwined with you in the closest way possible, he’s never been happier.

His lips pull into a sheepish grin, shaking his head at you. “That’s all you, angel. My good little girl.”

His praise makes your face flush, despite all you had just done, all he had just done to you, he still managed to fluster you. He presses a kiss to your pouting lips, chuckling into the kiss as you try to resist before melting against him.

Nuzzling your nose with his, he softly pulls out from your sensitive core, pressing a kiss to your nose as you wrinkled it at the sensation of his release dripping out of you. “C’mon, sweet girl. Let’s get you to the bathroom while I change the sheets.”

Standing up before you, Frank scoops you up in his arms, smirking at the tiny yelp you let out at the unexpected action. You smack his chest with a giggle before burying your face in his neck. Frank always looked at you a little weird when you sniffed at him like this, but you just couldn’t help it—he always smelt so good. If his natural scent was some top-shelf designer cologne, you would spend hundreds on it.

After placing you on the toilet, he grabs a washcloth, wetting it under warm water before kneeling in front of you and wiping down your sensitive areas with a gentle hand. Once he was done with that, he deposited the cloth in the hamper, before returning to the bathroom.

“I’m going to change the sheets and get you some water,” Frank says, pressing a lasting kiss on the top of your head. “You finish up in here, I’ll be done by the time you are.”

With a final smile, Frank leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You quickly use the restroom before wiping off the rest of your ruined makeup with a makeup remover wipe. By the time you’ve finished brushing your teeth and exited the bathroom, Frank is setting the glass of water on your side of the bed.

He smiles softly when he sees you exit the bathroom, his eyes taking in your bare figure with a look that wasn’t of hunger, or lust, but adoration, reverence. You had never felt so beautiful with just one look before you met Frank—he was unlike anyone you’d ever known.

He pulls back the duvet, sliding in against the fresh sheets and patting the spot next to him for you to join him. With a bright smile, you cross the room in a flash, burying yourself into his side as he tucks the comforter in around the two of you so none of the cold air could get into your little cocoon

You pressed your cold toes to Frank’s warm legs, giggling at the hiss he let out at the feeling. He glared playfully at you, kicking around at the blankets until he had wrapped them around your feet. Tucking his arm under your head, he draped his other arm over your waist and pulled you closer to him, your chilled nose brushing against the warm skin of his neck.

With a sigh you wrap your arm around Frank’s torso, hand splayed out on the muscles of his back and ribs. “Y’so warm, Frankie,” you mumble, the sound muffled from your place in his neck.

He laughs softly, his fingers drawing delicate shapes on the soft skin of your back. “You’re just cold, baby. But don’t worry, I got’cha.”

“I know,” you hum, trying to press yourself closer to him. “I love you, Frankie.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

[anemos-orca]

Better than Almond Tofu

Xiao x GN!Reader Smut, MDNI!

CW: blowjob (Reader giving), established relationship, semi-public (?), kissing (hehe :3), shy Xiao, swallowing, comfort/aftercare

NSFW under the cut

series tag: #●BTAT

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Working as the new chef at Wangshu Inn had put a lot of stress on you. After Smiley retired, it was up to you (his apprentice) to maintain the culinary reputation of Liyues favorite Inn.

No pressure.

However, despite the weight of high expectations, you never woke up feeling stressed or overwhelmed (well, there would always be off days, but those were off days)- partially because you loved your job, and partially because your long time crush, and now boyfriend, considered the Inn as his "lair." Which, speaking of- you had tried to suggest terms other than "lair" because it sounded very villainous, but Xiao had no intention of changing his vocabulary. You would sigh and narrow your eyes, but despite his stubborn continued use of the deviously connotated word and how it made you shiver at first, you eventually came around, finding the title rather endearing and ending up using it yourself.

♡

It had been a long, busy day, and now that the sun was set, the workers of Wangshu Inn all collectively sighed in relief, retreating to their respective abodes for a good nights rest. Saturdays were always busy.

"Im heading up to Xiao, g'night Ms. Goldett!" You said to the boss of the Inn with a friendly wave, grabbing the plate of Almond Tofu you had made for Xiao. By now, it was your nightly routine- finish cleaning, make Xiaos meal, say goodnight to the boss, and head up to his lair before bed (though, more often than not, you fell asleep laying on Xiaos lap, insisting that it was better than your cold, lonely bed).

The boss waved right back at you as she shoved the last of her belongings into her bag, preparing to retire for the night herself.

Making your way up the stairs with two hands on the plate of steaming food (archons forbid you drop it like that one time), a smile began to tug at the corners of your lips just as it did every other night. You couldnt help it, not with the way Xiao smiled so softly and graced you with little kisses, followed by a barrage of "thank you"s as though he were indebted to you and your cooking, even after telling him each night that you cooked for him because you loved him.

"Xiao?" You softly peeped, not wanting to startle him as you stepped up onto the balcony.

The Yaksha was leaning against the railing and staring out at the expanse of Liyue, only peering over his shoulder once you called his name, "Hm? Oh, (y/n), its you," he gave a gentle smile and left the railing to meet you half way, his hands rising from his sides to hold the plate over your own, making you blush. You noticed how his gloves were taken off, your heart fluttering as you realized that he remembered how much you loved it the last time he took them off.

You would think his body cold and calloused, but it was quite the contrary- his touch was as gentle as that of a tiny canary, his warmth as soothing as a fond childhood memory, and his skin silkier than even the finest silks of Teyvat. He was so soft, sweet, tender- it was intoxicating and you were never able to get enough, even if you were to spend every waking moment of the day with him.

He took the plate of tofu with a "thank you" and set it aside, focusing his attention on you, "You look so sleepy. Are you feeling alright?" He asked, his voice a soft coo.

You nodded, bringing your hands up to hold his cheeks, "Mhm. Just a long day, but i dont mind. Come here," you purred, leaning in and pressing your lips on his. You thought he would only reciprocate like he usually did- pressing his lips against yours before pulling away to cover his blushing face- but tonight was different. He slid his hands onto your waist and pulled you closer, kissing you back with a passion you didnt know he had in him yet. Gently pulling away, he gazed into your eyes, an intense blush creeping over both of your faces.

Your hands fell from his cheeks to his shoulders and your words seemed to catch in your throat from the pounding of your heart in your chest. Xiao brought one hand up to caress the soft skin of your cheek, his thumb rubbing back and forth as he studied your eyes, "Was... was that okay?" He asked, his voice gentle and soothing, pulling you out of your racing thoughts.

You smied and nodded leaning into the comforting touch of his warm hand on your face, "Can I have another?"

Xiaos eyes widened a bit, not having expected you to ask for more- though it was a welcome surprise. He leaned in and kissed you again, this time deeper than before. His tongue swiped against your lips and you parted your mouth, inviting him deeper. Your tongues pushed against one another in a messy kiss, swapping saliva as his hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair. You instinctively rested your body against his, making his breath hitch in his throat with a quiet gasp.

It continued like this for several minutes- you were lost in his embrace, the sweetness of his mouth, the warmth of his body pressing against yours. Time melted away and all you could think about was the way his tongue felt inside your mouth, and the more he kissed you, the more you wanted.

You couldnt help but quietly moan into his lips as the hand that was once gripping your waist moved to the dip in your lower back just above the hem of your pants, pulling you against him. Xiao didnt seem to realize, but by pulling you that much closer, you could now feel the tightness that was forming in his pants, causing your once steady breathing and quiet moans to stutter. That, Xiao did notice. He gently broke the kiss, lightly panting, "A-are you okay?" He asked, concern lacing his voice.

You licked your lips and nodded, "Hm? Why wouldnt i be? I was just a little... surprised, is all," you explained, your gaze softening and a reassuring smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Xiao seemed a bit confused, his brows slightly pushing together in thought, "Surprised..?"

It suddenly hit you that Xiao hadnt exactly noticed the tent in his pants. You leaned in, "You... have an erection, Xiao," you explained, your voice soft and lightly laced with desire.

Xiaos eyes instantly widened and his entire face turned red as he froze up, glancing down to where he had pulled you closer as if to make sure he wasnt hearing things. When his gaze rose back to you, you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was mortified, so before he could spew out a tsunami of apologies and disappear, you tightened your grip on his shoulders to ground him, "Xiao, its nothing to be embarrassed about, please dont go!" You plead, earning an apologetic expression from him.

"B-but-"

"Please...?" You said, cutting him off.

"I-it... wont go away on its own, i have to go s-so i can take ca-

"Let me do it for you," you offered, looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes, "I-i... i want to help you... please, dont go."

Xiao gulped hard, thinking for a moment. He had never done such a thing before (which was to be expected considering his lack of experence with, well, anything and everything to do with humans), having always taken care of it himself, but he knew for a while now that this would have eventually come up. He knew that when humans got in relationships they indulged in frivolous, physical romantics, but he never understood any of it- until he met you. The way your fingers moved so grasciously over his each time you held hands, the way the sweet taste of your lips lingered on his after each little kiss, the way he couldnt help but stare a moment longer than he should whenever you would wear revealing or form-fitting clothing- it all made him start to catch himself thinking shameful, perverted things about you and your body. Thats when he understood human romantics- thats when he started looking forward to the day he got to experience it with you.

With a shakey breath, Xiao nodded, agreeing to let you help him, "J-just... be careful, a-and dont push yourself..."

Your eyes lit up with excitement and you couldnt help but press an adorable little kiss to his bright red face as a genuine smile spread across yours, "Ill be gentle, i promise."

If you had a tail like General Gorou, it would be wagging like crazy right now.

You had Xiao sit in one of the two chairs you brought up to his lair quite some time ago before carefully dropping to your knees before him. You looked up into his gaze with those pretty doe-eyes of yours, making sure he was comfortable and okay as your hands slid up his clothed thighs. He brought one arm up to his face, covering his mouth with the back of his hand to try and stifle the little whimper that fell from his lips as your thumbs caressed his inner thighs. He watched as your fingers wrapped around the hem of his pants and gently tugged them down, guiding the restrictive fabric off his bulge. Xiao gave a strained groan as his erection sprung free- if it was possible for his face to turn any redder, it would have.

Your mouth instantly watered at the sight of his member and how hard it was just for you, forcing you to swallow down the saliva pooling in your mouth. His erotic scent filled your nose as you squeezed his thighs and leaned forward to kiss the precum drooling from his tip, your eyes never leaving his. You wanted so badly to tell him how cute his whimpers and gasps were, how you wanted him to not hold his voice back, but you kept it to yourself, not wanting to make him self conscious. You pressed your lips against the base of his cock, leaving a trail of heated kisses along the entire length before wrapping your lips around his leaking tip and circling your tongue around it. You watched with satisfaction as Xiaos eyes rolled back into his head and his brows furrowed together in pleasure, a full-blown moan rolling from his throat. His hand found its way to the back of your head, his fingers tangling into your hair as you began bobbing your head over his cock, taking the time to ensure that every inch was given the special attention it deserved.

"Ngh~... (y/n)..." Xiao breathlessly said between whimpers and moans, his eyes meeting yours once again as you managed to deepthroat his entire length, if only for a moment. Your thumbs massaged circles into his inner thighs and you moaned onto his cock at the taste of his delicious precum coating your mouth, a tiny tear pricking in the corner or your eye as you gag around his length.

"F-feels so... a-ah~ good..." Xiao whimpered, his grip on your head tightening. You felt his cock begin to twitch in your mouth and his hips slightly buck up into you as he drew closer to climax. Lewd, wet sounds of you sucking him off filled the air and you purposefully moaned more to send vibrations through his throbbing length as his breathing evolved into desperate panting and moaning.

"(y/n)... (y/n), i-im," he said before being interrupted by his own embarrassingly loud moan, "im gonna- haahh- cum, im gonna cum, l-let go before it gos in your m-mou-"

Before Xiao could even finish his sentence, you sucked harder and faster, running your tongue along the sensitive underside of his cock before deepthroating him one last time. With a sharp cry of your name, he pushed your head down further and released his hot seed deep inside your throat. You continued sucking and running your tongue over what you could reach to milk him of every last drop he had. He gasped hard, fully covering his mouth with his hand and squeezing his eyes shut as he hunched forwards from the intense waves of pure ecstacy, his hand clenching a fistful of your hair. You bobbed your head over his throbbing length a few more times to help him ride out his climax before pulling back and swallowing. Drool was smeared over your lips and chin and a little teartrack shone on your cheek, but the only thing Xiao saw was the happy, satisfied smile on your lips as you fixed his pants back around his waist and gazed up at him.

"(y/n)..." He said under his breath, still feeling aftershocks of pleasure.

"Did you enjoy it?" You asked with a lustful twinge in your voice, wiping your face clean with the sleeve of your shirt.

Xiao weakly nodded, still catching his breath and blushing hard, "Y-you... didnt have to... swallow it..." He murmured, stammering and tripping over his own words.

"Why wouldnt i?" You asked, fixing your hair.

"I-it... it cant taste good, y-you shouldve spit it ou-" Xiao began, only to be cut off by your finger on his lips to shush him.

You got off your knees and moved to straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck, "I liked it. It tasted good, like you," you quietly explained, feeling his arms hug around your waist, "You know, from now on, i-if you... want to do it again... id be more than happy to."

"... I-i... wouldnt mind that..." Xiao admits, nuzzling his cheek into your hair as he holds you close.

"I love you, Xiao."

"I love you too, (y/n). Always."

There was a brief moment of silence as the two of you basked in one anothers embrace. Had you been cats, your purring would be so loud that you wouldnt be able to hear even the loudest of thunder claps.

"(y/n)?"

"Hm? Something wrong?"

"No, no, i was just thinking, uhm... if you wouldnt mind, id like to help you next time, too."

●○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○●

a/n: i hope it was enjoyable :) apologies for how long it is, i got a bit carried away! Should i try and keep these shorter in the future? idk what you all prefer ~w~

a/n²: rip that almond tofu its cold as hell now qwq

[citrustan]

Can't wait to see what happens with politician Namjoon 🫣

wait no more! here's the follow-up on all eyes on you (knj) (read it first bec the following drabble is a direct continuation)

all eyes on you (knj) 2.0 [final]

pairing: kim namjoon x reader

genre: angst!! smut, fluff, husband!namjoon x wife!reader, mayoral candidate!namjoon x housewife!reader. i imagine namjoon to be older, and taller than oc. (I use 'oc' and 'reader 'as interchangeable terms.)

warnings: talks of infidelity, insecurity, women being mean to each other (moments of weakness, it's just oc @ joohyun), namjoon being irritable and condescending. the slightest bit of a size kink.

The slipper flew through the air but missed, landing harmlessly at Joohyun's feet with a sad, flat thud.

Namjoon blinked in surprise. But the secretary’s face darkened, her expression showed a mixture of disbelief and offense, “Did you just-” - “Yes, I did!” You snapped, still fuming, "And I don’t care how you explain it. You know, I always got a vibe from you. Get your whore out of my house!"

Joohyun gasped angrily, "Hey!"

Namjoon stepped in between the two of you quickly with his hands raised in surrender because you were ten seconds away from pulling her hair out. “Alright, baby, let’s just calm down for a second.”

You're unable to tell if he's being serious or just nasty and sarcastic. Hell, you can't even tell if he's talking to you or her.

He shot Joohyun a look, silently telling her to leave, “You’re not helping. I told you so.”

Joohyun huffed and leaned towards him, muttering under her breath, “Namjoon, this is ridiculous.”

"I'll call you later, Joo." He reiterated sternly.

After a mini staring contest with him, she gave in.

You simply watched, stunned at their brassiness.

And what the hell were you even doing watching? You should've clocked the bitch when you had the chance.

Before she left, she threw one last glance at you, clearly annoyed at being caught in the crossfire, "Listen to him, _____." - "YOU'RE A SLUT!" Her footsteps sounded angrier after this.

Namjoon has the gall to shoot a scolding look at you. "_____..."

Wide-eyed, you stay glaring at her, stalking her figure up until her stupid shadow leaves your vision.

You're trying to make her head explode with your mind.

It doesn't work.

Once you hear the door shut, you redirect your attention to your husband.

The weight of the situation was clear in his eyes. And he looked... sincere. But that's just his face. You're looking for remorse or shame or even anger. But he's just eerily calm.

Namjoon sighs.

“I’m sorry. I know how this looks, but you have to believe me, _____. There’s a lot going on right now." He takes a step closer towards you, "Baby, I'm your husband."

For two seconds, you consider it.

But at the end of those two seconds, you completely disregard his words and turn away and dash to your self-designed and decorated guest bed.

Once he starts talking to you, you know you won't be mad anymore, instead you'd just feel sad and pathetic. Ever the diplomat, he has that kind of effect on you. And a thousand others. Hence his successful career.

But you digress.

Namjoon hurriedly follows behind and blocks the door with his foot before you could slam it in his face.

"_____, please! You can't possibly believe that I'd cheat on you?" Namjoon forces the door open wider, following you inside.

Namjoon’s eyes found yours. With desperation etched across his face, he sighs, “We need to talk." Holding up his hands in a placating gesture, “I promise I can explain everything.”

He reaches out to hold you.

But still hurt, you stubbornly move across the room, as far away as you can be from him at the moment. "No!"

“And explain what? How you’ve been sneaking around with her? I bet she loved making a fool out of me on national television...!” You cry, raising your voice despite the lump in your throat. "I don't want to know!"

"_____." Namjoon exasperated, "Sit down and let me talk."

The audacity of this man to speak to you in such a manner.

"No."

"Fine, don't sit, stand there and-" - "Was it or was it not you on those audios?" You interrupt, breaking his chain of thought.

"It was my voice..." He confirmed, cautious of where you're headed with this.

You could hear a 'but' incoming. So, you quickly continue, "And that bitch, Bae, the woman often referred to as your 'work wife', that was her too, yes?"

To which he pauses for a millisecond.

"_____, that 'bitch' is my employee and friend. And you will not refer to her as such." As the words fall out of his mouth, Namjoon realises he's self-sabotaging but he can't seem to help it, he's just so tired, "You can't possibly be stupid enough to believe this bullshit. Especially this close to the elections."

Is he seriously scolding you now?

Obviously taking offence to his accusatory tone, you take a step back, "Are you blaming me for believing something that was on the news? Namjoon, I HEARD YOU."

"You know what? I am." Namjoon's frustration had taken over.

Just like that, all of a sudden, you were under fire.

"You, out of all people, should've known that you can't believe anything anymore." He begins to loosen his tie. "Especially after that shit-show of an abortion scandal last year. Did you not see what it did to Mr. Jung's poll count?" He added.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?! Are you telling me they hired actors and..." You frantically searched looking in every direction, but struggled to find a word for it, settling for less, "...voice... impersonators (?) solely to fuck with your stupid poll?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you! This is character assassination, this will make me lose my spot!" He almost barks.

You don't know how to describe his voice, it was just... manly and rough and deep.

That's stupid!

You screech, "That's ridiculous!"

"I agree!" Namjoon is hopeful that you understand the situation now.

You shook your head. He can't turn this on YOU. You're a victim!

"No," you frown, "No, no, you're ridiculous! Don't try to make me feel stupid, Namjoon. They had photos! I know it was you in them!"

Namjoon pauses slowly pulling his blazer down his shoulders, stopping mid-way, and looks over at you incredulously, "Are you hearing yourself?"

"Don't do that. I hate it when you're condescending." You speak fast.

"_____. Obviously, I never said those things about you." He emphasised, still sounding somewhat condescending, "Joohyun never talked of you like that. We don't know where exactly it came from but we've already got a P.I. on it."

Then he adds, "And those photos are from a work dinner."

"Hold on," you extend your arm and point at him, "How long have you even known about this?"

"A few hours?" Namjoon sighs, "I don't know, baby, these things take time to diffuse. It'll take at least a week till we can..."

HOURS?

"Namjoon, you kept this from me for hours? You let me find out from fucking Channel 4 that-" - He cuts your rant off, "_____, hold on. I didn't think it'd get this far! I was going to tell you after we resolved this." He scoffs before adding, "And I was adviced against sharing anything with you, or anyone at all for that matter."

When had that ever stopped him from sharing stuff with you? Too many questions were pressing at you for you to linger on just that one issue.

You are always in the loop because you have remote access to his calendars. You know his schedule and routine so well that even if Joohyun happened to magically disappear overnight, Namjoon would not notice.

You involuntarily pout, "I also go to all your work dinners. When was this?"

"You didn't go to that one," Namjoon's rebuttal was immediate.

...

You try to think of an event you backed out of. Any event. But you couldn't.

Namjoon turns away from you and rids himself of his blazer, hoping you'd drop the topic. Praying you'd let it go.

He hadn't informed you about this particular occasion he happened to be sneakily photographed at, even though it was a private dinner. All work, of course. But he couldn't risk you finding out why you weren't invited.

Namjoon had received intel from his campaign team that a few influential attendees at the dinner, a few donors and political advisors, had a history of favoring traditional or picture-perfect 'power couples' in politics.

While they admired Namjoon as a candidate, some felt you didn’t fit the mold of an ideal 'First Lady' type of figure.

They had a tendency to compare you to Joohyun, who, in their eyes, seemed polished, professional, and better-suited to Namjoon’s political image.

Namjoon had already been dealing with subtle, unkind comments about you behind closed doors; remarks about your overly-affectionate behaviour in public, your care-free demeanor, your personal choices, and even your background.

Basically, you just weren't from Namjoon's world. No rich family to stand behind. No high-profile career to elevate your image in front of these bloodsuckers. People (thankfully, excluding his friends and family) have looked down on you the entire time you've been with Namjoon.

You're a sensitive woman. You have picked up on things like this. But Namjoon was not going to knowingly subject you to more of this absurdity which you most certainly do not deserve. You were somewhat insecure already.

That particular dinner posed a greater challenge for him. He knew these people might make comparisons openly, especially with Joohyun present. And they did. He had to bite his fist and let them ramble on about his private life. It was the closest he came to possibly losing his career.

It's silly, but this is really it. He just didn't want to bring you into a room full of vultures.

He simply didn't know how to brief you about it all.

Suddenly lessening the gap between the two of you, you stop right behind him and whisper, "Did you kiss her or something?"

Flabbergasted, he abruptly turns to face you and begins pulling at his tie, "No!? I did not do anything with her." How does your mind go to these places? (Well, he has Channel 4 to blame this time.)

"Why are you mad? I should be the only angry one here!" You childishly whine at him.

"But I am upset, _____! I'm angry because my wife thinks I'd cheat on her!"

"They were very convincing on the news!" You cry.

"And I'm telling you it's a lie."

"Fine!"

He sighs deeply, somewhat struggling to undo his tie.

You scoff. What a baby.

You gently smack his hand away. "Let me help you. You're like an overgrown toddler."

He stares into your eyes and you successfully dodge looking into his, focusing on successfully unwrapping his necktie instead.

"_____."

"What?" You furrow your brows.

"Please believe me." Namjoon firmly strokes your sides, pulling you closer.

You do. You know he's keeping things from you but you'll get to that later.

For now, you just want to get over the shock from the more recent events.

"Can they go to jail for spreading misinfo like this?" You wonder out loud.

Your husband smiles down at you, "The people who did it? Definately. We will also be suing the news outlets who ran this story now."

You gently pull his tie off, "Okay..."

"I really am sorry I didn't tell you about it first. We did not think it'd get this bad," Namjoon's smile crumbles, "And I can't imagine hearing about something like this from a stranger."

"I will never put you on the spot like this again, _____." He tucks your hair behind your ears. Your cheeks were begging to be kissed. And kiss he did.

"You better not. Namjoon, you will tell me every thing. Promise me you won't keep things from me."

"I promise, _____." Your husband places a chaste peck on your lips. It was an empty promise though. Namjoon underestimates how much you can handle. All the time.

If your own husband can't take you seriously, you doubt anyone else will. But again, that's a topic for another day.

Namjoon subtly clears his throat, "So... You're wearing those pearl panties?"

Coyly smiling, you push your head into his chest, "Yeah? How do you know that?" You giggle.

"Lucky guess?" His hand travelled down your back and caressed your butt.

He pulled back, grabbing your chin to make you look up at him, "Allow me to verify?"

With cheeks heating up, and goosebumps spread all over your body, you smile at him sweetly. "Joonie, you don't actually think I'll fuck you after everything you put me through, do you?"

"What?" Your husband almost whines, "It wasn't even my fault!" He wraps you in an embrace, almost squeezing your body against his own larger one.

"I'd sue you for emotional damage if it weren't for the fact that you're my husband." You frown, pushing him off of you.

But he clings on to you, "You're joking!"

"Am I?" You retort. "And you're still sleeping in the guest bed, husband."

Finally getting him off you, you escape to your own room.

You can hear his cranky whining echo through the whole house. It's cute.

It had to be done though. You knew you would not have been able to keep your hands off him if he was in your bed tonight. You just wanted to have the upper hand for a while. Even though it'd only be a short while.

note: idk if any of it was expected and since i wasn't in the mood to write angst to this extent (especially when i'm already planning on something similar, not centered around infidelity but sort of forbidden or looked down on but nothing creepy, it's just heavy on the angst BUT I digress) i simply changed the course of this fic to satisfy enjoyers of all genres sorta kinda.

lmk if there are any errors please.

[loaksky]

tw : ptsd

hi I love love love your work, may I make a request: abby comforting reader with ptsd after a nightmare/episode 🧸 only if you’re comfy with that of course angel!!

— 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒆 | 𝒂. 𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏

roommate!abby x fem roommate!reader, fluff / mild angst, wc: 2.3k

synopsis: oftentimes when you’re lost in the darkness, abby’s your light.

content warnings: language, sprinkled mentions trauma and implied ptsd ! talks of death, brief mentions of canon-compliant violence. this is set in the tlou2 universe, but is canon-divergent (did i use that term right lmaooo ??), abby & reader get off to a rocky start, but they’re so fucking cute & i wanna write more of them ????

author’s note: sugar !! you don’t even know how excited i was to see you in my inbox bae ! ilysm thank you so much for requesting ! hope i did this justice <3 ALSO this is my first time writing in the tlou universe ?? usually i write modern!aus so i'm like pissing myself lowkey ansjkdnfjasf

main masterlist | tlou masterlist

YOUR PRESENCE ON BASE SENDS a ripple of whispers from wall to wall. The circumstances pertaining to your arrival hadn’t been uncommon, but they were brutal, had people eyeing you with equal parts sympathy and disdain.

Truthfully, you don’t remember much of it, had blacked out after the first death, but the murmurs speculate that your entire family had been ambushed, turned and then picked off in a raid.

You don’t know how true that is.

Abby doesn’t really pay you much mind at first, isn’t all that thrilled when she finds out that you’re taking the spare side of the spacious room she occupies, but she keeps her mouth shut when she sees how fragile you are.

And it’s not like she sees you much, not even in the evenings when most people are turning in for the night. Your bed’s always made, your side of the room in pristine condition. The only indication that you lodge with Abby is the beat up backpack that hangs on the hook by your desk.

On occasion she’ll wake up in the wee hours of the night to find you tucked under the blankets, still as a statue, but come morning, you’re gone.

For a while, she appreciates the distance, but when she sees you only a handful of times in the nearly two months you’ve sought refuge at the stadium, she begins to grow curious.

First it starts as asking passive questions to those patrolling, then she starts briefly combing any areas she enters, but you’re like a fleeting wisp of smoke, gone with a gust of wind.

She happens upon you by chance one night, right as the sun is setting. She’s on her way to the weight room when she notices you. The library is relatively quiet around this time, everyone usually in the dining hall or working on their evening duties.

But there you are, going through a carton of what looks like newly arrived books from the most recent raid.

Abby acts against her own better judgment, door whooshing as she presses her weight against the pushbar.

You’re looking up from your sorting, eyebags still prominent, but the color has returned to your face and you look like you’ve been taking care of yourself.

“This where you disappear to everyday?” Abby asks, pulling an early 2000’s almanac from the shelf to distract herself from the sear of you gaze.

She glances back at you when you don’t respond, finds that you’ve returned to shuffling through the box instead of humoring her question.

She clears her throat, takes another step closer, and you’re looking up at her again.

“Any good titles?” she tries. “I’m kinda in a slump right now, think I—”

“You don’t have to pity me,” you say flatly, voice a lot different than Abby’d expected.

She’s floored, regardless. Doesn’t know what would compel you to say such a thing when she’s barely spoken a dozen words to you since your arrival.

“I’m not following,” Abby admits.

You’re small in comparison, but the look you level her with is mighty, makes her cheeks bloom red because a woman’s never looked at her in such a way. She feels like she’s in trouble, but maybe she likes it.

“I hear what you all say about me,” you say firmly. “That I’m probably batshit crazy, that the patrolling team should’ve just left me to die with the rest of my family, that I’m useless.”

Abby flinches, brows drawing together and lips parting incredulously.

You don’t expect her reaction.

“I’m lost?” she says in confusion, then adds, tone stony, “who’s been saying that shit?”

Frankly, you don’t really look convinced, but your shoulders are relaxing a fraction. Perhaps you won’t admit it, but Abby’s quiet outrage provides some semblance of comfort.

You shrug.

“Doesn’t matter,” you say quietly. “But you don’t have to go out of your way to be nice to me. I’m fine on my own.”

And Abby doesn’t know whose neck she has to wring, or how many for that matter, but despite initially being lukewarm towards you, she wants to squash every single person who’s made you feel like you can’t find a place among them.

“That’s bullshit,” she replies frankly, and you’re looking at her sharply. “People are bored, like to run their mouths. There’s a place here for everyone, you included.”

Such simple words shouldn’t make you feel warm, but you’re pausing, frozen like a hurt pup experiencing affection for the first time. You’re glancing up at her, lips pressed in a thin line.

Abby’s fidgeting because fuck, did she overstep a boundary with this interaction? Should she have left you alone instead? She wasn’t necessarily mad at the distance between you two, but the establishment of having a roommate makes her feel like she’s been living with a ghost recently.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

Abby’s shoulders deflate in relief, chest hitching as she takes in a shaky sigh.

“Have you...have you had dinner yet?”

Abby learns that regardless of breaking the ice, you’re still reserved. It’s quiet breaths of laughter when she cracks a joke, learning how to settle for the silence when the two of you are spending prolonged periods of time together (which is a lot more frequent that Abby had expected), and being the buffer between you and most things you find uncertainty with.

Not only that, but you’re a nocturnal creature of habit that she usually finds cooped up in the library.

It’s half past one in the morning some weeks later when she wakes up and groggily squints over the railing that divides the room to find that your bed is empty.

She’s pulling on a hoodie, slipping on a pair of sneakers and brushing her hair from her face as she slinks out into the hallway. And, of course, you’re in the first place she thinks to look, curled up against the cushions of an oversized chair with your eyes drooping over a children’s picture book.

She enters almost silently, only catching your attention when she’s a few paces away.

“Hey, A–” A yawn pulls from your chest. “Hey, Abby.”

She smiles softly.

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

She leans against the armrest of the chair, peers down at you as you flip lazily through the pages before she’s pulling the book from your grasp.

You let out a sound of disapproval.

“M’not done,” you tell her.

“You look like you’re about to knock out,” Abby observes. “Why don’t we get you to bed.”

You yawn again, then sigh deeply.

“I won’t be able to fall asleep anyways,” you admit quietly.

Abby shifts and you look up at her. She notices the glimmer of vulnerability that glosses over your sleepy eyes.

“Is it because...” she trails off, swallows down the rest of her question because she doesn’t want to seem insensitive, but you seem to get the gist anyways.

“Among other things,” you admit.

“Oh,” Abby whispers. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug tiredly.

“Can’t be helped, really.”

And Abby’s learned to really like you these past few weeks, has felt for you and your journey here. It makes something tug hard at her heartstrings, especially when she sees little slivers of peace dawn you for a few moments at a time, only to be weighed down by the gravity of it all.

“Why don’t we go back and you can at least lay down?” she asks softly. “You need to rest.”

And you want to argue, tell her that it really is no use, especially when the darkness can be one of your sensitive triggers. But the look that Abby is giving you is pleading, like she can’t bear the thought of another one of your sleepless nights, so you nod carefully and let her guide you out of the seat.

“I know it’s touchy,” she says after a few silent moments down the hall. “But, you can...you can talk to me if you ever, y’know, need to get anything off your chest.”

You don’t mean to, you’re just caught up in the moment and Abby has a way of making you feel safe, but you’re grabbing gently at her fingertips as the two of you walk down the corridor.

“Thanks, Abby,” you swallow.

If Abby looks hard enough out the window, she can see the beginnings of the sun as it starts its ascent. She’d spent the latter half of the late evening murmuring to you in the dark, hoping that maybe the sound of her voice would lull you to sleep.

And it does, miraculously, she thinks to herself, when she hears the light puff of your steady breathing. She stays still for moments that bleed into several minutes, monitoring the tandem of your breaths. She doesn’t even realize how much time has passed until the sky begins to ooze from midnight to burnt swathes of orange.

She hadn’t slept a wink, too busy wanting to make sure that you’re snoozing well enough in the short period of time since you’d laid your head down. So she decides to get dressed in the dark, is in the middle of sliding her belt through the loops when she hears it.

It’s most imperceptible, the murmur that slips from your lips, but Abby’s been hyperaware recently. She thinks that maybe she’d been a little too loud, jeans rustling a little too hard, belt buckle clanging too much. But even as she stills in the dark, she hears the whimper that echos against the exposed rafters.

“Please...” Abby freezes, lump lodged deep in her throat.

Your body jerks, mattress squeaking under the sudden movement as your sheets rustle once, then twice.

“No.” Your breath catches so hard in your chest, Abby’s worried you won’t take another.

She’s crossing the room quickly, pawing around your nearby desk for the small lamp. The dim bulb casts a yellow glow over the surroundings and Abby finds you damp with a sheen of sweat.

“No, no, don’t—”

When her hands find you, you’re shooting up, shoving her away with so much force, she’s knocked to her ass. Before she even blinks, you’re straddling her, dagger she hadn’t even known you had on you, drawn.

“Hey,” she whispers shakily. “It’s me.”

Your eyes are wild, cheeks streaked with tears as you take in your surroundings. You touch base with your senses to ground you; the sound of your ragged breathing, the smell of Abby’s pine-scented soap, the taste of blood on your tongue, the feel of Abby’s shirt bunched in your fist, and the sight of her rigid frame clearing from the fog.

“Fuck,” you choke. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You’re dropping the dagger, fist loosening as you scramble to climb off of her. But her fingers are closing around your wrist to stop you, mooring you to place.

“It’s okay,” she says breathlessly. “It’s fine. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

Her hands slowly come up to brush over the sides of your arms comfortingly, and when you don’t flinch away, she’s reaching up to smooth the hair from your face.

The softness of her touch makes you melt, makes you wrap your arms around her shoulders and fall into her as her arms wind around your waist.

“I’m here,” she assures you quietly. “You’re safe.”

And when she feels your body shake against hers, her chest is squeezing, feels all those tamped down emotions from a loss that feels like such a distant memory resurface with every quiet sob that wracks your body.

She feels like she’d processed her grief well enough over the past few years after losing her dad, was buoyed in a consistent state of anger that manifested in a deep-seated need for vengeance as of late. But this makes her sad. Makes her want to take away everything that’s ever made you feel hurt in the world.

She’s squeezing you so tight, nose nestling into your hair as she rocks you gently.

Abby still doesn’t know how much time passes, but your heaving breaths turn into spaced hiccups as you sink further into her hold. She doesn’t realize that the exhaustion has crept over you until one of your hiccups fades to a sigh, until she’s pulling away to see that your cheek is pressed against her shoulder and your wet lashes brush the apples of your cheeks.

For once, it seems like one of those slivers of peace has found you in a moment of sleep and Abby wants to preserve it.

She’s shifting your weight, arms banding tight around your waist so that she can slowly stand. And when you stir, she cringes in defeat. But your breath puffs against the column of her throat, and while your proximity makes her cheeks burn, she can only focus on settling you back into bed.

“Abby,” you whisper groggily, as she sits on the edge of your bed to kick her shoes off. “Don’t leave, please.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she assures you softly, leaning back against your pillows and taking you with her. “I’ll be right here.”

True to her word, when you wake up, she is, one arm propped underneath her head, the other splayed between your shoulder blades.

The sun sits high in the sky, analog clock reading well into the morning and nearing the afternoon.

“Oh, fuck!” You’re leaning up abruptly, jostling Abby from her slumber and she’s gazing up at you with bleary eyes.

“Shit, are you okay?” Abby asks, voice thick with sleep.

“They’re probably looking for you,” you say frantically. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I—”

The hand on your back hasn’t left yet, rubbing slow circles there, the other mapping across your shoulders to pull you into her chest.

“S’okay,” she reassures you. “They won’t miss me for a day.”

“Abby—”

“Shhh,” she mutters. “M’sleeping.”

And you want to cry. Equal parts because of embarrassment and equal parts because Abby’s showed you the most kindness you can remember anyone ever showing you and it makes your heart swell in your chest.

“Abby?”

“Yes, ________?” she grumbles.

“Thank you.”

She squeezes you tighter.

neng © 2023

[writtenfangirl]

I would love to see more Charles lecerc from you, the way you write him is so good. Maybe him trying to convince his girlfriend to move to Monaco with him and it’s all sweet and cute

Treasured Memories

Charles is literally so fine. I could stare at his face all day and not get tired of it. And it really doesn't help that his personality seems just as fine as his face.

I know his native language is French and not Italian but I always thought it would be so cute if I had a boyfriend who could speak a lot of languages and he chooses to call me a term of endearment in a different language than his native tongue.

Fic's only about 2100 words so enjoy!

Part 2

Charles Leclerc has and always will be a determined man.

He wasn’t the kind of person who rested unless he got what he wanted and he did whatever it takes to get the things he wants. 

Whether through his sheet grit, his determination, his talent or the bountiful resources that his family fought tooth and nail to give him, Charles did everything and anything to succeed.

It’s how he won the F2 championship in his first and only season, how he won rookie of the year during his debut with Sauber and why he was signed by the oldest and most respected team on the grid before he had even reached his second year as a Formula One driver.

He rarely ever heard the word no. And when he did, he always knew how to turn it into a yes.

So when he had asked his girlfriend of three years, Y/N Y/L/N, to move in with him, he hadn’t been expecting her rejection.

“Move in with me, amore,” Charles said, his voice cutting through the loud speakers that were playing Harry Potter’s orchestral theme song.

It was one of those rare days when neither Charles nor Y/N were off somewhere else around the world. With the season reaching their summer break and Y/N requesting time off from work to spend time with him, Charles and Y/N had opted to stay in Charles’ apartment and simply relax together. He wasn’t usually one for a lazy day but because he rarely ever got to spend time with his girlfriend, it was easy to forget about his training and his work outs and team strategy building for the day. It was even easier to forget those things when she was peacefully leaning against him, her eyes glued to the TV screen that was playing the first Harry Potter movie as their bodies were protected from the frigid air conditioning with a cozy blanket.

Charles felt Y/N tense before she pulled herself away from him, her weight supported by her arm as her attention shifted to Charles. Harry Potter was just about to tell Draco Malfoy off for being mean to Ronald Weasley and Charles knew it was one of Y/N’s favorite scenes. But she’d forgotten about it as she processed Charles’s simple request.

The words hung in the air and Charles paused the TV before the scene could progress further. He also knew that Y/N would make him rewind back to the scene if she had missed it.

“What did you just say?” Y/N said slowly, her eyes focused on Charles. 

“Y/N, move in with me.”

He fully expected her jubilant shouts or even a wonderful kiss of happiness followed by an ecstatic “yes!” but Y/N did none of those things. Instead she said a very emphatic, “No…”

“No?” 

“No…”

Charles wasn’t exactly stung by the rejection. He was more surprised if anything. He couldn’t understand why she would say no. They had been together three years. It seemed like the most natural course of action for Y/N to move in with him, the next step to bring their relationship to newer heights.

“Why don’t you want to move in with me, amore?” Charles asked.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Charles. I mean, I moved to Monaco just a year ago. Now you’re asking me to move in with you.”

She did have a point. Y/N did leave London to live in Monaco but she had justified the move because it was better for her career. 

She was an international correspondent for the BBC, which meant she was often sent to different countries around the world. After Brexit, it became harder for her to travel around Europe and, at the time, moving to Monaco was the sensible response.

Being able to see Charles more often was just the added bonus.

“But amore,” Charles protested, “you practically live here already. You have clothes in my closet and skincare in my bathroom. You even have keys here. You see my family so often, maman and my brothers think you’re an honorary Leclerc. I don’t see the problem with you moving in.”

“What about my lease?” 

“I’ll pay for the rest of it.” He deadpanned. “You’re landlord is terrible, amore.”

Y/N winced. He got her there. Her landlord really was terrible. There was always something broken in her apartment, whether it was a broken heater in the middle of winter, a leaky faucet in her kitchen sink, a toilet that refused to flush or a TV that only played static, it took her landlord months to fix those things. It’s why Charles had given Y/N keys to his apartment in the first place. If something went wrong, she could always spend the night. But things went wrong so often that for the past six months, Y/N spent five months living in Charles’ apartment rather than her own.

Not that he was particularly complaining.

He loved having Y/N around.

Y/N’s schedule was just as hectic as his was, likely even more so. She always had three suitcases packed and ready to go just in case she had to leave at a moment’s notice. The rare moments when Y/N came straight to his apartment after a tiring assignment and Charles had been home to greet her were highlights of their relationship. He wanted her to come home to him. And the even rarer moments when he came home to her after his own hectic schedule? Those were memories he etched in his mind forever so he could relive them in his dreams.

“What about my space,” Y/N added. “I work from home a lot and I don’t have a space here to work.”

Fully expecting this, Charles’ next words were unhurried and reassuring. “I’ve already planned it. I can move my simulator and my gaming consoles in the living room. There’s plenty of space here. You can use the game room as your office. I even installed speakers there because I know you like to listen to Taylor Swift while you work.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot straight up, causing Charles to grin. “Wow,” she said, mildly impressed. “You really have thought of everything.”

He did think about everything. He didn’t want to give her a reason to say no and the only way he could guarantee she’ll say yes was if Charles handled everything so that Y/N didn’t have to put in any effort. She always hated moving and he knew he would have to move mountains and cross seas just to ensure that Y/N would say yes and so he did just that. 

He tried his best not to sound so smug. “Oui. All you have to do is say yes. You don’t have to lift a finger. I’ll call the movers and plan everything and your things could be here by tomorrow if you wanted.”

And yet Charles could see the hesitation in her eyes. Something was holding her back. He knew his girlfriend enough to know that what’s holding her back wasn’t any trivial reason. This was something big. 

“What’s making you say no?” He asked patiently.

“Alright,” Y/N said at the question, her hesitation vanishing and steely determination filling her features. “Do you really know why I don’t want to move in with you? You might not like what I say.”

Charles nodded. He wanted nothing more than to know what horrible reason could possibly be stopping the love of his life from living with him so he could find a way to stop it.

“I’ve noticed a pattern with you, Charles.”

He pulled his brows into a frown. “A pattern?”

“Yes, babe. A pattern. You once told me that in your previous relationships, the love and magic between you two ended when they moved in.”

“What?”

“When you and Giada were together and she moved in, things ended between you two after a year. With Charlotte, it was two. Alexandra had six months. I love you, Charles, in a way that I had never loved anyone before. I don’t want things to end between us.”

He blinked at her once. Twice.

Y/N had always been blunt but she was never unfeeling. She looked as though she wanted to snatch the words from the air and shove it back in herself if she could. “Charles, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to off—”

Charles’ sharp bark of laughter interrupted her. 

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise as laughter shook his body, the sounds coming out from him echoing in the living room.

Her lips pulled into a frown as she took one of the pillows that rested on the couch and hit him with it. “It’s not funny, Charles!”

“I’m sorry!” He howled, not sounding sorry at all as his laughter choked the words from him, leaving him gasping for breath. Tears were beginning to collect in his eyes, further frustrating his girlfriend.

With a growl, Y/N hit him with the pillow again. Charles couldn’t even register the thump of the pillow with how hard he was laughing.

“Y/N, it’s not funny,” he managed to get out as he laughed. He clutched midsection, his stomach beginning to cramp from how hard herwas laughing.

“Then stop laughing!”

“I can’t!” 

“If you’re going to be that way, then fine!” Y/N pushed away the blankets that covered them and began to stand up. Instantly, Charles sobered up, his hand shooting forward to grab Y/N’s arm, pulling her to him. She landed on a heap on his lap, her hair tickling his nose, the scent of her shampoo enveloping him as he threaded his arms around her body and placed a kiss on her cheek. 

She huffed, rolling her eyes in annoyance, causing Charles to chuckle at her. Another kiss on her cheek and Y/N’s annoyed expression softened. “Y/N,” he said gently, “why would you worry about that?”

“Because,” she whispered, her previous annoyance vanishing like smoke, “usually what happens in almost every relationship is that the little traits that we once thought were cute and endearing about the other person become things we hate. I love that you ask me to cook for you whenever I’m at home but what if one day I wake up and I start to hate that about you. I don’t want that to happen.”

“You are being so silly, amore. That won’t ever happen to us.”

“How do you know that.”

“Because I’ve known you for so long and but I still find new things about you to love everyday. Even the things I don’t like about you, I love. And I love those things about you because I love you. Besides, of my past relationships you’re the girl I’m most compatible with. Every chore you don’t like to do, I like doing.” He said the words with a self-satisfied smirk. “You have no reason to say no. So say yes.”

“So long as you’re absolutely, 100 percent sure you want this.”

This time, Charles’ expression could only be referred to as serious. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I love you, Y/N. I want to spend forever with you and I can only do that if you let me. So please let me.”

“Oh,” Y/N sighed as a smile pulled at her lips, “you Frenchies and your romantic words.”

“Monegasque, amore!” Charles sputtered and this time, it was Y/N’s turn to laugh. 

“I’m just teasing, babe. You’ll have to get used to it since I’m going to be moving in.”

His arms squeezed her tighter, pressing her against him at her words. “You mean it? You’ll move in? You cannot take it back if you say yes, amore. I won’t let you.”

Y/N’s smile could only be described as incandescent. “Yes. I’ll move in. I’ll move anywhere so long as it’s with you.”

And just like that, what was once a normal, pleasant day, was now another treasured memory. He couldn’t imagine anything more amazing than hearing Y/N’s yes. And if he felt this way about her agreeing to move in, he could only imagine how he’d feel when she’d give him her yes after his proposal.

But his impending proposal to the woman he now knows to be the love of his life was another matter entirely. Right now, he wanted to bask in the moment and he couldn’t think of a better way to do that than by laying on his—their—couch, watching their favorite films and holding the girl of his dreams.

[seokgyuu]

→ PAIRING: Jihoon/Woozi x Reader.

→ GENRE: Smut MDNI!!

→ SYNOPSIS: When Jihoon video calls you from the gym in a very specific angle, there isn’t much else to do than drive to the gym and take what you want.

→ WARNINGS: reader has female anatomy, gendered terms (good girl) basically public sex, blowjob, soft!dom jihoon, degradation (name calling: slut, whore, reader gets called pathetic) face-fucking, multiple orgasms, cum eating, mentions of cockwarming, masturbation (f), pussy slapping, unprotected sex (stay safe everyone!!!) mirror sex, creampie (if there is something I missed pls lmk!!)

→ WORDCOUNT: 2.4k

a/n: hii guys, i watched yesterday’s live and it altered my brain so pls take this and enjoy <3. credit for the header go to my beloved @playmetheclassics & a special shout-out goes to @angelwoozi for reading this through and giving me the best comments ever 🫶🏻

Your boyfriend wasn’t exactly someone with the biggest rizz. The fact you even got together had been entirely your effort in the beginning. Not because he hadn’t been interested but because he couldn’t exactly read the room properly. Your flirting was mistaken as friendliness. Your touches were mistaken as something you just did sometimes. You had to literally spell it out for him to understand and even then it had taken him two full days to muster up the courage to come to your apartment and claim you as his.

Now, a year into the relationship, he still didn’t have much rizz - or at least not on purpose. He also still didn’t know how to read the room. Perhaps it had gotten slightly better, but not to an extent you could actually describe as aware of his surroundings and situations.

That was why right now, as you just finished another day of work, your phone propped in the holder in you car, you stared at Jihoon with your mouth slightly dropped. He had called you from the gym, the phone positioned in a way you usually knew from being in between his legs, his cock buried down your throat. His fluffy hair was looking extra cute today, which was in stark contrast to the way he sat on the bench press, legs spread and arms on display. He was just telling you about his day, about how one of the kids he taught at the local middle school had told him he sounded like an old man and how he now felt like an old man.

You had started your car and began driving to his gym the second he had shown up on your screen and he had absolutely no idea. You held the conversation, your thighs pressing together at every stop sign, every red light. Your underwear was sticking to your core because, fuck, did he look hot and, fuck, did you need to be in the place of his phone right now, having him destroy your throat.

“Anyways. Will you come to my place later tonight?” He asked as you pulled into the parking lot of the gym which, for whatever reason, he did not register at all. You chuckled, looking for a spot.

“Sure, babe.” You finally parked, grabbing your phone and purse, Jihoon now talking to one of his friends, Hyungwon, which meant he wasn’t paying attention to his screen. Convenient.

Five minutes later you were inside the gym, your phone and keys in your purse, Jihoon and you hanging up a minute ago. You had just told him you’d call him back which was technically a lie, but what you had planned would make up for it. You saw him sitting on the spot he had called you in, Hyungwon nowhere to be seen - and so was no one else. You were surprised, considering it was only 8pm, but you weren’t going to complain. You stopped in your tracks, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you watched your boyfriend do some weight exercises, flexing his arms as he did them and, god, did you want to fuck him right now. Looking around, you saw that even the reception was empty, a sign saying “be right back!” and so you did the only thing that seemed valid right now. You walked through the milky glass door that was usually open at all times (you had watched Jihoon from still outside of the main gym room) and let it fall shut behind you, the loud bang making your boyfriend look up from where he was sitting.

The second he spotted you, his eyes widened in surprise, the weight he had lifted with his right hand falling onto the floor.

“Y/N? What-,” but he didn’t get any further than that because you reached him, your hands on his cheek, leaning down to kiss him feverishly. The surprise grew, but he wasn’t complaining about his girlfriend surprising him at the gym. He kissed you back, hands on the back of your thighs, a part he could reach comfortably as he sat on the bench. Instead of parting, you deepened the kiss and soon enough you found yourself straddling his hips, Jihoon shocked at the wetness he felt once you led his hand to your sopping core.

“Shit, why are you so wet, babe?” He groaned, his free hand in your hair.

“Are you kidding? Do you see yourself, Jihoon? You’re so fucking hot, needed you the second you called me. Propping the phone like that… don’t tell me you didn’t want me to come here and suck your cock.”

As if to underline your statement, your hand reached down, pressing down onto his growing erection. Jihoon’s cheeks turned red, but he couldn’t stop the moan when he felt you grind on him. He kissed you again, pressing you closer to his body, hips automatically meeting yours. While a part of him was worried someone might walk in, another part just really wanted you to go down on your knees and bring truth to what you had said.

“Fuck, babe, you’re driving me crazy,” he breathed against your lips and you giggled, letting your hand slip fully into his sweats, feeling his perfect big cock harden against your palm. Jihoon now bit down on your bottom lip, causing you to moan, his hand on your core moving to shove your panties to the side, fingers gliding through your wet folds. Your hips moved again, your hand fully wrapped around his cock now, jerking him off slowly.

“I need your cock in my mouth, Jihoonie, can I please suck your cock?” Your voice was dripping in want and Jihoon nodded, letting his fingers glide through your lips one more time before letting go of you, sucking his fingers into his mouth, drowning in your sweet taste.

“Get on your knees, baby. Show me what a good slut you are. How much you want my cock, common.”

His words shot straight to your pussy, clenching around nothing as you slipped down, hands setting his cock free from his sweats and briefs and without any teasing you let your mouth sink down on him. His moans and the hand on the back of your neck spurred you on even more, your free hand reaching between your legs, thumb on your clit as you got yourself off whilst sucking all of his length into your hungry mouth.

“Yeah, like that, I know you can take it all, baby,” he pushed your head down softly, helping you take all of him into your mouth and once your nose hit his abdomen he groaned, his head thrown back. Your mouth felt heavenly around him, always did. He could never get enough of it. He had you under the table while he worked, just warming his cock with your mouth. Had you in the car, you leaned over as he drove to the shop. You loved sucking his cock, loved letting him fuck your face, loved when he painted your cheeks white, when he had you keep his cum in his mouth to show him after. He was crazy about your hunger for his cock and he would never ever get tired of it.

Coughing around him, tears streaming down your face already, you dared to look up at him, his hooded eyes making you rub your clit even harder. Jihoon licked over his lips, positioning his hands on the sides of your head.

“Good girl, taking all of my cock down her perfect slutty throat. Ready for me to fuck it?” When you nodded, he immediately did his first thrust, a droplet of sweat already running down his forehead. He was deep down your throat, probably visible to an outsider. Thinking about someone walking in, seeing the way his cock looked inside of your used throat… it had you moaning around him. The vibrations made Jihoon thrust again, harder this time. And that was when he couldn’t hold back anymore. His pace became quicker, his cock showing you no mercy as he drilled it into your wet mouth, his chest heaving as he lost all sense of control.

Spit was dripping down your chin, your eyes almost crossed at this point, feeling like you were on cloud nine, your boyfriend using you to get off, always making you squirm. You kept on moaning around him, making him spiral, his orgasm so close and yet so far. He knew he needed to be quick, as much fun as this was, he would most probably get kicked out for fucking his girlfriend in the gym and whilst he loved the thrill, he did love this gym too.

“Such a horny slut, couldn’t even wait to get home, had to have my cock down her throat right away. Should probably punish you later for being so impatient, don’t you think?”

Your eyes rolled back and you nodded to the best of your ability with him still fucking down your throat. When you hollowed out your cheeks even more, the glide suddenly a bit easier, Jihoon couldn’t help the guttural moan of your name, his movements becoming sloppier. You could feel that he was close, your pussy clenching around nothing once more as you thought about his sweet cum shooting down your throat.

“F-fuck, yeah, such a good toy for me, such a whore, so, so good,” he stumbled over his words as he finally came, pushing your head all the way to his abdomen again, cum shooting down your throat in warm spurts as you tried to swallow it all, his cock twitching on your tongue over and over again. Yet, when he was finished, he was still rock solid. You felt your pussy flutter.

“Shit,” he mumbled, pulling you off his cock to instead shove up your skirt and rip the useless panties off of you, his eyes still full of hunger. He then turned around, sitting on the bench like he had during the phone call and only now did you register the huge mirror on the wall, right in front of the bench. Jihoon grabbed your waist and turned you around skilfully, placing you on his lap in reverse, his hard cock pressing against your ass as he looked at you through the mirror.

“Gotta be quick, baby,” he mumbled, and you nodded, lifting your ass and grabbing his cock to finally sink down on him. You were so extremely wet there was almost no resistance at all.

“God, so fucking wet, fuck,” Jihoon proceeded to kiss your shoulder, bottoming out a second later. His eyes stared into yours through the mirror, one hand on your hip, the other now on your thigh, moving towards your throbbing clit.

“Ngh, Jihoon- pl-please fuck me, touch me, anything,” you whined hips wiggling, feeling so full and yet so unsatisfied. Jihoon chuckled, thumb now harshly pressing down on your clit.

“Do you see yourself, baby? See what a fucking slut you are? So desperate for my cock, to get fucked in the middle of a public gym? Breaking probably a thousand rules?” As if to punish you, his hand shot up, only to fall back down, slapping your clit and making you jump. His cock slid out of you then and he groaned, grabbing your hips to position you back on his cock. And then he began to, again, show no signs of mercy. He began thrusting up, both hands on your hips now as you leaned back, your head on his shoulder.

“Look at yourself, watch how I fuck you pathetic little whore,” Jihoon groaned, his cock twitching inside of you as you clenched around him, your walls closing in on him more and more. He moaned your name, fingers digging so deep they were probably going to leave bruises for you to admire later.

“Y-yes, I am s-so pathetic, couldn’t wait for you to fuck me!” You cried out, trying your best to keep your eyes open and moaning in pain and pleasure when he slapped down on your clit again once your eyes fell shut for a second.

“I told you to look at yourself, fuck,” He changed positions now, a yelp escaping you as you found yourself bent over, legs on either side of the bench, arms stretched to hold you up and Jihoon behind you, standing upright, his hips fucking into you at godsspeed. He looked at you through the mirror, watched how incredibly hot you looked, lips swollen and red from the way he had fucked your mouth earlier, drool and small bits of cum on your chin and, fuck, did he twitch at the realisation. He picked up his pace once more, not able to keep his eyes off of you as he felt you clench again, your tight perfect pussy vibrating around him as you came, your eyes rolling back at the feeling of your orgasm, his name like a mantra on your lips.

“Good girl, coming on my cock so prettily,” he slapped your ass once, squeezing the flesh after, only for his own orgasm to hit, cum shooting inside your spent cunt that was happily taking it all in. He fucked you through your orgasms, his cock finally softening and pulling out after, catching you in his arms. You both needed a second before you were able to breathe normally again, your chests heaving, hearts beating at triple it’s usual speed. You felt like he had fucked all the life out of you and you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“You’re so cute,” he whispered into your ear then, kissing the spot underneath it. He had slipped back into his boxers and sweats and you were adjusting your skirt again.

You looked at him questioningly.

“What do you mean?” You asked then. He grinned, grabbing the disinfectant and some paper towels from the wall.

“You really think I didn’t know what position I placed my phone in? Silly baby. I might have started our relationship with zero rizz. But I would say, thanks to you, I am at a hundred percent rizz now.”

Speechless, you stared at him for a few seconds before laughing out loud.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Lee Jihoon.”

[writeforfandoms]

Love Letters

Find my Halo masterlist

This is just a fun little gift for/brainrot with my lovely @chaoticgeminate​ who helped me plan out the idea and cheered me on. Love you darling! 💖

You never intended to actually admit your feelings to Master Chief. But your supervisor meddled, he knows, and you might be having anxiety. A silly cute one shot about developing feelings.

John-117/Master Chief x f!reader

Warnings: swearing, mild implied violence, tooth rotting fluff, Blue Team Supremacy

Word count: 5.7k

“You did what?!” You stared at your supervisor with horrified eyes, hands gripping the edge of your console too tight.

“I delivered that letter.” Your supervisor, Melinda, was a good supervisor. She ran a tight group. She was also a troublemaker who meddled and had a secret romantic side. 

Which she had apparently used to send a letter that was never actually meant to be sent!

“Why?” You couldn’t keep the weight of despair out of your voice, half-pleading for her to be pranking you.

Melinda shrugged. “It was a nice letter. Very sweet. If nothing else, he deserves to know.”

“No! He was never meant to know!” You pried your hands off the metal and debated the merits of strangling Melinda. Pro: they’d court martial you so you would never have to face Master Chief. Con: you’d end up on a work colony planet and probably get shivved within days. 

Fine, no strangling Melinda. Yet. 

“Why not? I think your crush is adorable.” Melinda smirked in that particularly infuriating way she had. 

You made a wordless noise of protest and despair, letting your head fall to your station with a little thunk.

“Go walk it off,” Melinda told you, slapping your back. (Ow.) “Take a break. That’s not a suggestion.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You sighed and stood as she walked away, trudging away from your station. Not that you had anywhere in particular in mind to go. The ship was not small, after all. But you had been told to walk it off, so… Walking it was. 

At least until you rounded a corner and damn near ran into a very familiar armored individual. All you had to do was spot that particular shade of green and you damn near jumped out of the way.

“Sorry, sir!” Okay, so maybe you squeaked a bit, but. Really. You could not be blamed. Your heart couldn’t take this kind of stress, especially not with the stunt Melinda pulled earlier.

But Master Chief just nodded to you and continued on his way. Only once he was out of sight did you deflate with a whoosh, leaning back against the wall. 

Okay. Either he hadn’t read the letter, or he hadn’t gotten it yet, or he had read it but was just ignoring you. What if you’d made him uncomfortable? What if he didn’t even know how to respond and you just fucked things up?

You groaned and covered your face with your hands. You were never going to recover from this disaster. 

–

There was a letter on his floor. An actual, physical letter. Hardly anyone used those anymore - he’d used a notepad maybe a handful of times to take notes. (And once as a distraction. It made a lot of noise and left some very confused Unggoy.) 

Point being, John was fairly certain he’d never received a physical letter in his life. But the envelope said “Master Chief” on the outside. And it had been left in his room.

He sat at the desk and opened it, fingers working carefully at the envelope to get the paper out. 

The first thing he noticed was the handwriting. A little curly, a little scratched, it was almost… endearing. 

And then he actually read the letter. 

And stopped.

John was aware that some people found him attractive. While it wasn’t something he had ever encouraged or discouraged, not really, it wasn’t something he entirely understood, either. It was very rare that he thought of people in terms of attraction. 

But this… This was not that. Not quite. This was far more emotional. In fact, the writer admitted to having not seen him without the helmet. 

This was not physical attraction. This was something different. 

He had no idea what to do with it.

For now, he folded it up and carefully tucked it away in his desk. Using every privacy protocol he knew of, he went into the database to search for reference material. 

Half of which were old movies and shows revolving around the sending and receiving of these letters, usually with comedic or dramatic aspects.

John would never, ever admit to having watched one of them. It’s not like he needed a lot of sleep anyway. 

But he was still at a loss as to what to do. Did he write back? Did he find this person and talk to them face to face? The sources available to him were… unclear on proper protocol. 

His Spartans, he knew, would be no help with this. For various reasons. Not least of which being that they’d tease the hell out of him. So, alternate sources needed.

(And he couldn’t help the flash of pain at the thought that Cortana would have an answer, she’d find an answer for him, she always had answers–)

Captain Lasky had proven himself trustworthy and discreet. While not John’s first choice, he would do if further research yielded no results. 

With a sigh, John closed everything down for the night. He needed sleep. At least a little sleep. Not sleeping led to being forced to take downtime, which was… a bad thing. A very bad thing. 

He laid down and stared up at the ceiling, systematically going through his body and making sure there were no noteworthy aches. Then he closed his eyes.

The last conscious thought he had was that he liked your handwriting. 

–

John purposely waited until after his next mission to bring up the letter. He had already decided this was a conversation he needed to have with the helmet on. 

So, after debrief, instead of taking Lasky’s usual dismissal, John shifted his weight. “There is one more thing.”

Lasky looked up at him with a faint, concerned frown. “Speak freely, Chief.” 

“A Spartan received a letter.” John spoke slowly, weighing each word. He didn’t want to lie, but he didn’t want to reveal the whole situation just yet. “Of a… personal nature.”

Lasky grimaced. “If someone needs to be spoken to–”

“No.” John tipped his head to the side. “It wasn’t a bad letter.” 

Lasky blinked, caught off guard, and nodded slowly. “Then what is the concern of this Spartan?” 

This would be the hard part. John stuck to the same tactic, in hopes it worked. “None of us are aware of proper protocols for responding to such letters, Captain.” 

Lasky was completely silent for a long moment. And then he lifted one hand to rub his forehead, muttering to himself. (John knew he wouldn’t have been able to hear without his enhanced hearing.) “I am not equipped to handle this talk…” Lasky drew in a deep breath and looked back up at John. “Let me see if I have this right. A Spartan received a personal letter, but not an inappropriate one. I’m guessing a love letter or a confession letter of some kind. And… you want to know how to respond.”

“Correct, sir.” John didn’t move.

Lasky sighed. “Well. There are a couple ways to respond, I suppose, depending on how the Spartan in question feels. If they’re uncomfortable, they can ignore the letter or turn the person down. Or if the… feelings are accepted, they can write a return letter or tell this person face to face.” 

“What would the contents of a return letter be?” John frowned, yet again glad the helmet was concealing his expression.

Lasky looked like he would rather be doing anything else. “That’s up to the person writing. Granted, letters haven’t been common for centuries, but… Stating your own feelings is pretty typical, or inviting the person to continue writing. Some people find it easier to write their feelings than say them out loud.” 

John turned this new information over in his mind before he nodded once. “Understood. Thank you, sir.”

“Chief?”

John paused, half-turned away from the captain, and tipped his head back that direction.

“Let me know if this becomes a problem. Otherwise, I’ll assume all is well and I will not go looking for more paperwork.”

John nodded his understanding of that and left. He was scheduled to get out of the armor now and have some time to fuel and sleep. 

But maybe… 

Stepping into the Brokkr to get the armor removed was second nature by now, and John barely paid attention to the machinery whirring around him. He was instead still puzzling over the letter in his mind. 

Lasky’s explanation had been sufficient for him to move forward. 

Walking around the ship without armor always left John feeling exposed. He was so used to being in the armor, being a soldier, that being without was… odd. Fortunately, it happened infrequently enough that he still had some anonymity - although it was clear he was a Spartan, most of the crew didn’t equate him to the Master Chief outside of his armor. And that was just fine with him. 

The mess was busy when he entered, but nobody bothered him as he took a tray, gathered food, and sat at an empty table well off to the side. Just as he preferred.

He spotted you sitting at a table not too far away, datapad in front of you, tray forgotten to one side. He watched as your brow furrowed, as you hunched closer to the screen as if that would help you, as you scrolled through whatever you were reading with just the very tip of your tongue poking between your lips. 

He’d never spoken to you, but he had looked you up after reading the letter. Clean service record, glowing compliments from multiple supervisors. You’d been in communications your entire career, and you were, by all accounts, good at it. 

Despite the clear fluster you’d shown that day you’d run into him. 

He tipped his head to the side a little, watching you mutter under your breath as you did… something on the datapad. You were… different. Cute, maybe. He didn’t have much of a frame of reference for cute. Or attractive. 

When you finally looked up from your datapad, John was carefully not watching you. You seemed totally oblivious to having been observed for the better part of five minutes, and started eating with half your attention. 

Depositing his tray after he was done, John made his way back to his room. He knew how he needed to proceed.

–

You weren’t paying attention as you walked back to your bunk, which was… not unusual. You shared with three others, and you all had rotating schedules, so you could usually get at least a little time to yourself. 

But the crinkle of something underfoot when you stepped into your bunk was new. Frowning, you looked down.

There was a letter. On the floor. Partially under your foot.

Heart suddenly racing into overtime, you bent to pick it up. It was addressed to you in unfamiliar, blocky handwriting. This did not help your pulse at all, which was still thrumming hard and fast. 

Double checking that you were alone, you dropped down to sit on your bed and opened the envelope with shaking fingers. 

The letter was short, and for a moment your gaze caught on the name at the end. 

John. John. 

…Wait. John-117. Master Chief. 

You were definitely going to murder Melinda. 

Your letter was very kind, if unexpected. I've never received a letter like this before, and was uncertain how to respond. 

I don't know you, but I would like to, time permitting. If you would like to remain discreet, further letters would be welcome. I am also open to suggestions. 

Regards,

You stared at the letter unblinkingly for several moments. He… hadn't turned you down. He hadn't said no. 

He'd… said yes? 

You carefully put the letter back away. Put your face in your hands. And squealed. 

Okay. Maybe you wouldn't kill Melinda, after all. 

But wait. Now you had to decide what to do! Tipping over sideways, you hid your face in your pillow and shrieked. Just a little bit. (The walls weren't that thick, after all.) 

…Wait. Now you had to figure out how to reply. 

You were so fucked. 

–

It took you three days to write a return letter to him. Partially because you had to figure out how to say what you wanted to say (and you definitely ended up scrapping two pieces of paper). Partially because work required actual focus, and you couldn’t always goof off. And partially just because it took you a bit to gather your nerves. 

You’d never really intended to confess your feelings to Chief. To John. You were still figuring out how you felt about having been outed, more or less. 

Finally, though, you gave up and just wrote the damn thing. It was late, you were mildly sleep deprived and running on a bit of liquid courage. 

John,

I hope you don’t mind if I call you John now. I have one more confession to make. 

I wrote the letter, yes, but I never actually sent it. I’m… a little intimidated now that you know. I really hope I haven’t overstepped. 

But I would really like to get to know you. Whatever way you’re comfortable with, really. Letters are good with me. Honestly, they’re probably more coherent. I can ramble on for a long time if nobody stops me in person, my supervisor teases me about it sometimes. 

I work in Communications, so my shifts tend to be pretty predictable. I’ve got the early shift at the moment - 0600 to 1500. It’s not bad, really, but it does mean I tend to go to bed early. I rarely have plans after my shifts. Although I do like to wander the ship. I have definitely gone into areas I was not supposed to. It’s kinda fun. 

Alright, maybe I can ramble on paper just as well as I can in person. 

I know your schedule tends to be a little unpredictable, so I guess just let me know if you want to do anything? Or we can stick to letters. Whatever you’re comfortable with. 

Sincerely,

You didn’t let you second guess yourself, folding the letter and sealing the envelope. You stood, ready to go deliver it right then.

And realized you actually had no idea where his quarters were.

You stood there, stumped, momentary panic flashing through you. This was a terrible idea. 

Your datapad chimed, and you set the letter down to check your datapad instead. 

You haven’t given me an update on your letter to Chief! Did he ever respond? If you need to go bug him, all the Spartans are on S-deck. He’s in 117, of course. Just walk like you belong and nobody will bother you. Have fun! :D 

Sometimes you were really tempted to kill Melinda… but she had her uses. 

One more deep breath to settle your nerves and you started for the nearest elevator, letter shoved into your pocket so you wouldn’t fiddle with it. Fortunately, there were plenty of directional signs on the ship. Which made sense, considering the size of the bloody thing. 

It also suited you well in finding S-deck. 

The elevator opened onto S-deck, and you stepped out cautiously. But nobody was around, not right then. Swallowing, you took a quick look around before you started walking. The first fork you came to was fortunately labeled: quarters to the left, rec room and gym to the right. You could hear activity from the right, but fortunately you needed to go left anyway. 

The doors were all clearly labeled. Some few had actual personality on the outside - one person had attached some stickers to the outside of the door, while another had painted the numbers green. 

Room 117 was in a little ways, but you found it. The door was plain, unadorned. You had no idea if he was in there or not. 

But this was enough bravery for one day. You crouched and pushed the letter under his doorway, making sure it was all the way through and couldn’t be seen from outside the door. 

Then you turned and very calmly fled. 

(You didn’t even notice a Spartan further down the hall, eyes narrowed and focused on you. You turned a corner and vanished from sight, and the speculative gaze turned to Chief’s door instead. Hmm.) 

–

John didn’t outwardly react as Linda fell into step next to him. She’d speak her piece in her own time, there was no point in rushing her. 

“Did you know you got a letter, Chief?” 

John didn’t break stride. But only through sheer force of habit. “I was unaware.” Which was true - he hadn’t been back to his quarters yet. But he had kind of hoped that he would find a letter. 

“But you’re not surprised.”

Damn. He had hoped she wouldn’t pick up on that. The alternative was worse, so John just didn’t answer. 

“John.”

“Linda.” 

She didn’t huff, didn’t demand. Just kept steady pace with him. Metaphorically wearing him down. 

Although, if he really wanted to be stubborn, that could take a long time. 

John made the turn down to his quarters, weighing pros and cons. Then he nodded once and hit the button to unlock his door.

Sure enough, there was a letter just inside the door. He picked it up and then stepped out of the way, inviting Linda in with nothing more than a tilt of his head. She stepped through after him. 

“This is the second letter I’ve received.” John tucked the letter, unread, into his desk. He would not be reading it with company present.

“Who from?”

“Does it matter?” 

“Nobody uses letters anymore.” Her head tilt was all curiosity. And when Linda was actually curious about something, she dug until she got what she wanted. 

There were a few different ways he could handle this. He could pull rank and tell her to back off. And she would. But it would not be graceful. That was his least favorite option, honestly. Any of his Spartans deserved better from him. 

So he chose a variation of the truth. 

“It’s personal.”

“Someone wrote you a personal letter.” The surprise coloring her tone was very faint, but there. 

“Yes.”

“And you’re aware who it is.”

“Yes.” John didn’t move, watching her closely. 

The two remained locked in a stalemate for a full minute, completely silent. Linda wasn’t willing to back down entirely. John wasn’t willing to give her more information just to assuage her curiosity. 

Then Linda smirked, a faint tick of her lips, an expression that had John instantly on guard. “I’m sure it will be easy to find her name,” she murmured. “I’ll recognize her when I see her again.”

Shit. If Linda had seen you leaving the letter, then she would find you again. It would just be a matter of time. 

And, intended or not, Linda could be… intense. They all could. John knew that, he’d seen the way the crew sometimes eyed them, unsure how to interact. 

But he didn’t want Linda scaring you, even inadvertently. So he made a concession. 

“You do not approach her about this. You do not investigate her.” He stared her down, waiting until she nodded her agreement to continue. Then he gave her your name. 

Linda nodded once. “What is your end goal here?” 

John shrugged, a tiny movement that nonetheless conveyed everything it needed to. Linda frowned a tiny bit, almost disapproving, before she released her breath in her version of a laugh. 

“Don’t do anything foolish, John.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he drawled, completely dry. 

Linda shook her head, just a little, and bumped her shoulder into his as she walked back out of his room. 

John finally sat at his desk, pulling the letter out. Your handwriting was still a little chaotic, moreso than last time. As if you’d been writing in a hurry. He read the letter quickly the first time and then slowed, reading it again. Unbidden, his lips quirked. 

Well. Your rambling, as you called it, was not anything that bothered John. If anything, he found it endearing. 

Maybe he should mention that? Would it help to put you at ease? 

Shaking his head a little at himself, John debated how to answer. 

–

“Is that her?” 

A tiny nod. 

A single grunt. Keen eyes observed every movement, every flicker of emotion. 

“She’s soft.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

Another grunt, quiet, contemplative. 

It wasn’t until their quarry moved that they did. 

“Think this will work?”

A soft sound, almost a laugh. “Chief is stubborn.”

A huff of acknowledgement. Really, that was all that needed to be said. 

–

You groaned softly as you walked down a hallway, rolling your shoulders. It had been a long shift fighting with some misaligned repeaters. Coordinating with Engineering was always a pain, and today had been somehow even more aggravating than normal. Your shoulders ached with lingering tension, and you didn’t want to deal with people yet.

So, wandering the ship it was. You may have sneaked through a Jeffries tube to get two decks down without having to take the elevator. Look, nobody caught you at it, it was fine. 

You weren’t even sure where you were going, but it felt good to just… go. Especially when you stuck to quieter corridors and less populated areas. 

You’d find your way back. You always did. Not like you could get that far, after all. 

Coming to a crossroads (and signposts), you blinked when you realized you were almost to the aft observatory. Well. That was… something. Huffing a little at yourself, you continued down that hallway, stepping quietly into the observatory. 

It was empty, and you breathed out a little sigh of relief, sinking down to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of one of the floor-to-ceiling viewports. The quiet and the calm helped, your shoulders easing down into a more relaxed position. 

The door opened behind you and your heart plummeted. Maybe they’d leave. Or at least leave you alone. The floor shook a little under heavy, even footsteps, stopping next to you. You looked up… and up… and up, finally into a golden visor. You blinked, caught completely off guard.

“May I?” His voice was low and deep and calm, soothing to your nerves. Somehow.

“Oh! Sure! There are benches if you prefer.” You shrugged, a little bashful, still staring up at him. 

He merely lowered himself to the floor next to you, surprisingly dexterous for a man wearing nearly half a ton of armor. (Not that you’d gone and looked up all the information you could get your grubby little mitts on about the Mjolnir armor.) 

“Did you know I was here?” You tipped your head to look up at him, curious more than anything. 

His head dipped in a nod, a little hesitant. 

“Huh.” You blinked and then ducked your head. “You didn’t have to come all the way down here for me,” you murmured, warm, heart fluttering in your chest.

“I wanted to.” Still that even tone, matter of fact. But still soothing. 

You nodded, peeking up at him again. He had shifted the tiniest bit, arms braced on his thighs, helmet forward again. Giving you space, you realized with a warm swell of startled affection. 

“I think this is only the third time I’ve been here,” you started slowly, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. His head tipped, indicating he was listening. “The first time was an accident. I couldn’t sleep, just got switched from the overnight shift to first shift.” You paused to chuckle. “Had a few very blurry days before I adjusted, that was awful. But I was wandering around, must’ve been after midnight, and kind of blindly stumbled in here. It was so quiet - just the air filtration system, really. I sat down, figuring I’d do a bit of reading, and woke up with an awful crick in my neck and my alarm going off. Had to book it back up to communications.”

His shoulders bounced once in what might have been a laugh. 

“Can I…?” You looked more fully at him, a little shy, a little hesitant. “Do you want me to tell you more?”

He nodded. “Whatever you can share.” 

“You’re going to regret that one day,” you warned him with a little laugh. “I told you I can ramble.”

“I don’t mind.” He didn’t move, still relaxed, still waiting on you.

So you started telling him about another one of your rambles. 

“...and I really wasn’t planning on going all the way to the hangers,” you told him, trying (and failing) to hide your mirth. “Especially not from the ceiling.” 

“The Jeffries actually opened into the hanger?” He sounded… something. Dismayed? Disgusted? Something. 

“Apparently, they weren’t supposed to.” You paused. “But that one definitely did. Spent a few minutes clinging to the ladder inside the tube. There was a lot of panicked shouting. They eventually got out a ladder that reached and got me down. The whole tube had to be closed for maintenance for four days before they found the malfunction. After Captain Lasky gave me the dressing down of my life, he grudgingly admitted it was a good thing I found that malfunction before it became a problem.” 

John’s chest practically vibrated, his chuckle so quiet you could barely hear it. “That was you?”

“Oh god, you’ve heard of that?” You dropped your head, hiding behind your hands, though you were laughing. “How’d you know?”

“Roland almost asked me to go, decided on a Spartan-IV instead.”

You giggle-snorted, covering your eyes. “They were debating the merits of sending someone up with a jetpack to grab me until one of the Pelican mechanics found the ladder.” You paused purely for effect, peeking up at him between your fingers. “I never managed to tell them I’m afraid of heights.” 

That time you heard the chuckle, low and rumbling and wonderful. You hid your face again until you could contain your own laughter. 

Finally, though, you checked the time, dismayed to see how late it had gotten. (Well. Late for you, because you were the most boring person on this entire ship.) 

“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?” You twisted your fingers together, peering up at him, caught between worry and hope. 

“No.” He shifted, facing you a little more directly. But still giving you space. Still giving you time. 

“Okay.” You paused, chewing on your lower lip. “Have you eaten?” 

He shook his head, silent, watchful. 

“Do you want to?” You were quick to continue as the implications of what you’d just asked caught up with you. “We don’t have to, of course, or another time, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

He paused and then his head jerked around to the doorway. “Later,” he said, getting to his feet with a fluid grace you frankly envied. But his hand reached back down to you, helping you to your feet like you weighed nothing. (To a Spartan, you didn’t.) 

“Okay.” You weren’t going to push. Not about anything, really, but definitely not about this.

“Lasky’s calling Blue Team.” He offered the explanation without prompting.

Something in your chest relaxed, some anxiety you hadn’t even named. “I hope you won’t be late.”

“I won’t.” He sounded so easily confident, like he could bend the universe around him to his will. You half-believed he could. “Here.” He held out a letter to you. Where it had come from, you had no idea, but you took it with barely trembling fingers. 

“I’ll see you soon?” You tried to keep the hope out of your voice. You failed. 

He nodded once to you before he turned and strode out of the room, quick and purposeful. You stood frozen until the door closed behind him. 

(Outside the door, the rest of Blue Team fearlessly faced down John, having kept everyone else away from the room so he could have his time. His head dipped, the barest amount, in recognition and thanks. They fell in behind him to make their way to Lasky. No words were needed.) 

–

That meeting seemed to have signaled some kind of break in the ice between you and John. He found you more often than not after your shifts. Sometimes you two walked and talked. Sometimes you found a place to sit - the aft observatory became a favorite with you two. Sometimes you even had a meal together, although those times were more rare. John was still shy about being with you without the armor.

That was okay. He could take as much time as he wanted. You weren’t actually trying to jump him. You genuinely liked his company, no matter what he was wearing. 

(When you told him so, quietly, one night while the two of you had a late snack in the observatory, his cheeks went pink and he ducked his head. But he also bundled you up into a hug before he left, which was warm and firm and the absolute best thing ever.) 

And you may not have been the smartest person on board, or the most observant, but even you couldn’t miss the way the rest of Blue Team hung around. You made sure to wave at them any time you saw them. Not that you got a response out of them, most of the time, but still. You liked them. 

Especially after Kelly grabbed a letter from you as you were taking it to John’s room and bolted away. You found out later that John had been sent on an unexpected mission, and Kelly had just gotten the letter to him before he’d gotten in the Pelican. 

You kind of assumed that meant they liked you, too. 

But it wasn’t all good all the time. 

While John was gone on this super secret mission, comms went down to most of the rest of the universe. Meaning a pileup of crew who had messages they wanted to send home who couldn’t. 

And it was nobody’s fault. But somehow you were blamed (and the rest of the communications staff). The whole department was working around the clock to get it fixed, but it looked like the problem wasn’t even with the Infinity, but with a relay elsewhere in space. 

Meaning there was quite literally nothing you could do. 

But a handful of ODSTs didn’t like that answer. 

“I got people to talk to back home,” one of them, the ringleader of their little group, grumbled at you. He was taller than you, using his height to try to tower over you. (That might have worked a few months ago, but now? Not a chance. John had inadvertently seen to that.) 

“I told you, there’s nothing I can do,” you insisted. But you took a step back, hoping you could escape to the mess or somewhere else populated. “The problem isn’t on the ship, and we’re not headed towards the relay to fix it.”

“Yeah? Why not? You think it’s okay to just make us wait?” The ringleader took a step closer to you. 

“That’s not–of course not!” You puffed up as much as you could. Which was… not a lot. “You think we don’t have family, too?” 

“I don’t think you do,” one of the others jeered, just to be cruel. 

But the remark still landed, and you still flinched. The other two drew in closer, like wolves scenting blood. 

“Seriously,” you tried again, pushing your shoulders down and back, “if you have a problem with the outage, talk to my CO. She’ll tell you the same thing I did. There’s nothing we can do until another ship gets to the relay.” You did your very best to glare them down. 

Either your glaring skills had improved or they got tired of taunting you, because one of them nudged the ringleader, and they all backed off in a hurry. Actually, it looked like they scrambled away from you. Which was… confusing. But. Hey! It worked! 

Turning, you hummed as you continued on to the mess. You really needed food now. 

(Behind you, Fred let out a slow breath from where he’d stepped behind some machinery to get out of your line of sight, after scaring off the ODSTs. That had been close. Too close. He made a mental note to talk to Linda and Kelly about assigning you a permanent shadow until this communications issue was cleared up, or Chief got back. You had the self-preservation instincts of a lemming.) 

–

The first thing John wanted to do after debrief was find you. But he took the time to get de-armored first, carefully not fidgeting through the process. He got dressed and was out in record time, completely ignoring the armor techs. 

He had missed you during this last mission. And that was… new. And odd. Not unacceptable, because he had felt this ache before. But it still scared him, a little, this need to see you. To be near you.

But for once, he went with it, rather than fighting it. Even though it had been a long time by now, Cortana’s words about one of them being more human than machine still rang in his mind. 

He was finally making the decision to be more human. 

He found you in the aft observatory, Kelly standing guard by the door. He nodded to her, and her return nod was easy. Good. No issues worth mentioning, then. 

The door opened and he stepped inside, finding you immediately. You were sitting with your knees up near your chest, arms loose around your legs. You looked… sad. Lonely. 

He could fix that. 

John didn’t say a word as he strode over to you, not even returning your sputtered greeting as he sat behind you. Immediately, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back flush to his chest so he could curl himself around you as much as physically possible. He could feel your heart beating hard, could hear your stuttered breath. But you relaxed into his hold almost immediately, curling one hand around his. John breathed out slowly, steadily. 

For now, this was enough. He would need to explain more to you later. Maybe in a letter if he couldn’t get himself to speak the words. 

But for now? This was all he wanted. You, safe and warm and protected in his arms, the tension leaving the both of you. He tucked his head down into the crook of your neck, listening to your heart steady out. 

Yes. This was enough. 

[the-nysh]

Hi there!! I just saw your tags on the Vash marksman appreciation post and I really REALLY gotta know your thoughts on the fight choreography bc while I did martial arts as a kid I don’t remember everything and just extremely curious!! Wanna appreciate the thoughts put behind making this boyo!!

👀👀!!! Yes, hello! (Note: I'm also about 10yrs rusty out of practice in hapkido--a Korean defensive art that combines many styles from judo/aikido/etc, so while I may not remember all the formal terms and stuff, I can still SEE the very real and very sexy close combat choreography + randori/grapples/ground work they're smoothly throwing in there!) I've briefly tag-ranted on some former gifs I've reblogged here & here but OK, I can indulge into a little more detail! :D

Let's start with this gif, which is such a nice introductory tease!

The point-blank bullet dodging is some of that sick looking 'rule of cool' inhuman spice, but oh what's this?? 👀 The other dude is dumbly holding his arm out (non-defensively, since if that guy were smart about close fighting, he'd have his other hand up at the ready too) right in Vash's personal space, ripe for the taking - to which OH YES he easily blocks with the prosthetic arm and transitions right into a throw for the takedown. Where he shoves the fool over his shoulder with a lot more power (which is hard to do, esp from a standing position without a solid grip on any lapels either; woo he just goes right in for it), rather than using the dude's own momentum against him, since the guy's literally just standing there (as a stationary weight) rather than trying to punch him in a brawl. But LOOK what else Vash does!!! His block with the prosthetic becomes a grip that both holds/pulls onto the guy's arm during the throw and disarms the guy - by tossing his gun away, in one swift movement! :O Not only that, but there!! We see the first quick tease of him reverse-griping his own heavy brick of a gun into a tonfa position to strike the guy at the back of the neck for a non-lethal stun!!! That is SO cool!!! ;o; Some galaxy-brained application of his no-killing fighting style (using both arms + his revolver in his repertoire...oh wait, that already makes up the title's literal 3 guns *gets shot*) where it looks so fresh and seamlessly smooth af. Great stuff.

Then the Livio fight, despite him being double-armed with long-range weapons, is full of close-range gold from the way Vash tackles him, straddles him, and pins him to the floor with a (forceful!) choke to the throat (like whoa excuse me hello), but ALSO from the self-aware way Vash always has his guard up to keep both of Livio's guns out of the way at all times. D: Whether parrying bullets with his prosthetic, blocking/holding the guns away with that arm too (as shown), or even using his own gun defensively as a tonfa-shield to reinforce his blocks as well.

So then we get to THIS GIF, the same sequence that drove you insane for his smooth marksmanship tracking, drives ME insane for his immediate close-quarters holywhattheflyingshit did he just DO!?!?!?! 👀👀

LOOK AT HIM!!! Honestly it's kinda hard to see everything from how fast he goes, but I love the way he zips in there to grapple Livio off-balance, and ahh!! Look at the way Vash ducks and defensively keeps both arms up (this is SO important, because once you've trained you'll notice how in so many movies/comics' 'rule of cool' martial arts moves, they'll often have a character wildly swing their arms out to the sides to counter-balance kicks and stuff, but no--that's bad/unsafe form; bc if you're in a real fight you need to keep both arms up and ready at all times if you want to protect your core/face from getting blown off! Which just as you've noted, is something that needs to be practiced! The fact Vash has kept his unblemished pretty face for 150yrs is testament to that~) Vash knows how to simultaneously use his prosthetic AND his gun as needed--cause look at that, he swiftly holds it reversed as a tonfa again to block Livio's gun swing, which is a really cool way to use a gun as a shield to protect his own flesh arm from the incoming blows.

But that's not all, because ahaaa~ Fighting defensively is not all he's got up his sleeve! The little boxing jab he throws to Livio's face with his prosthetic arm makes me giggle, because OH YEAH that's a real thing! A type of distraction strike you pull - the same as stomping on a foot or kicking someone in the balls, to disorient your opponent off-guard first before you serve your real (offensive) move. Which in Vash's case leads up to a....O___O;;!?!? TF is THAT.

Here's where they're teasing in more of that inhuman spice again, because Vash holds Livio's guns out of the way (as usual) and revs up for a....fucking one-punch to the solar plexus at point-blank?!? D8 Whatwhatwhatwhat!!! Because that wasn't his gun's doing at all; he was still holding it defensively in that arm as a tonfa! That was his real arm's natural brute strength bitch!!! aaaahaha!!! wow I love it. The guy modestly says he's not much of a fighter but that's not trueeee at all, is it~ ;) I can SEE real proof of that otherwise and I can't wait for what else studio orange will show us to blow our minds.

*Ahem* So anyway did I ever mention how much I like the way he reverses the grip on his gun to use as a tonfa? (both defensively as a shield to protect himself and offensively to stun/strike his opponents with) For thematically how much it seamlessly works for his fighting style to never kill, for how the improvised (but practiced!) close-range practicality and versatility of it looks crazy awesome, and because damn, that shit's hot.

[sweetheartmanor]

Trying something new

Fandom: Danganronpa (V3)

Pairing: Rantaro Amami x FtM!reader

Warnings: Afab terms, rimming, cum eating/cum play, facesitting

Word Count: 1,279

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Y/N had been asking Rantaro if they could do a certain thing for weeks now, but he could tell that his boyfriend was still unsure about it. He knew Rantaro was nervous about putting his full weight on Y/N's, but the thought had tingles racing up Y/N's spine and sent heat to his core. He sat down on his boyfriend's bed. "Rantaro, just one time please. If you don't like it or it proves to be harmful, I won't bring it up again."

Rantaro sighed, remembering just how often Y/N has been asking for him to well- sit on his face. Rantaro was far from unaware of just how big his ass was, especially with how often his boyfriend likes to smack, grab, massage, and just touch his squishy cheeks. This time he relented with how eager Y/N was to this idea. "Alright alright. We can try once.. If you need me to get up, tap my thigh three times, okay? Three taps and I'm up." He said, a subtle sternness to his naturally laid back voice.

Y/N nodded, knowing just how serious and important this moment was. "Of course, dear. If I need you up, I'll let you know." He knew Rantaro wouldn't like him pushing himself too far so he was honestly agreeing to this. He laid down on his back on the bed, his head resting on a pillow for some extra support.

Rantaro shook his head with a fond, exasperated smile as he pulled off his clothes. Which at the time was just his boxers. He waited for Y/N to get comfortable before climbing on top of him, ending up in a position where his ass hovered over Y/N's head, his hands positioned in front of him on his eager boyfriend's chest. "Are you really sure about this?"

Y/N reached up to grab and squeeze that glorious ass over his head, already drooling at the thought of eating out his boyfriend. "Oh, yes~ I'm very sure about this~" he knew he was probably making a mess of his own underwear at this point, but shame just didn't exist for him. "You have such a godly ass. You need the perfect seat for it~"

Rantaro couldn't stop his face from flushing in embarrassment at his boyfriend squeezing and praising his impressively fat ass. "Y/N.. tell me when you're ready." The green haired male spoke, adjusting how his legs sat on either side of Y/N's shoulders. He was glad Y/N seemed to be enjoying himself a lot... and from the growing wet patch in his boyfriend's underwear, he seemed to be liking it a lot more than Rantaro expected.

Y/N grinned mischievously, unashamed by how aroused he was about eating his boyfriend's ass. His hands moved to squeeze Rantaro's amazing thighs hard. "Fuck, I'm so ready for this darling~ Now get that fine ass down on my face before I cream myself just looking at it~"

Rantaro chuckled bashfully at Y/N's forwardness before slowly easing himself into his boyfriend's face, biting his lip as he looked behind him. "Is that good, baby? Not too uncomfortable right? Give me a thumbs up if it's good.." He asked Y/N, wanting to make sure that he was uncomfortable since he was the one having his face sat on by Rantaro's fat fucking ass.

Y/N hummed approvingly against Rantaro's skin, flashing his nervous boyfriend a thumbs up to ease him and let him know that he was indeed okay. In fact, he was more than okay. He was pretty sure he was in heaven and he couldn't help but immediately dig in. He squished Rantaro's ass cheeks in his hands as he eagerly lapped at him before swirling his tongue around his hole.

Rantaro jolted at the sudden feeling of Y/N putting his mouth to work, his hand firmly squishing his thick ass as he dug into his dessert. "A-Ah- Y/N~" He gasped out, covering his mouth a little with his hand as he allowed Y/N to continue what he had been begging to do all week. "Yo-you're quite eager there, babe..~"

Y/N hummed again, squeezing his thighs together as he pushed his tongue into Rantaro. His hands had a death grip on his boyfriend's thighs, holding him down as tight as he could. He wanted nothing to get between him and his meal at this time. He finally had a chance to do this, something he really wanted to do, and he was going to take full advantage of it.

Rantaro lowered his head as a low moan slipped past his lips, extending his arms to hold himself up by using Y/N's thighs as plush support. This felt a lot more pleasurable than Rantaro could've imagined at first, making him wonder within a lust-filled daze on if he should indulge his ravenous boyfriend more often.

Rantaro's low moan sent shivers down Y/N's spine and more heat to his core, making it harder than before to ignore his own arousal. He removed one of his hands from his boyfriend's thigh to rub at his clit through his underwear. The texture of the fabric against his sensitive clit had him gasping and moaning as he ate Rantaro's ass.

Rantaro took notice of Y/N beginning to rub himself, letting out a breathy chuckle as his hips involuntarily rutted forward due to Y/N continuously eating out his fat ass. One of his hands snaked around to the inside of Y/N's thigh, his thumb joining his boyfriend's hand in rubbing against his clit.

Y/N jolted as his boyfriend joined him in rubbing himself, letting a loader moan against his fat ass. He was getting dizzy with the lack of air and arousal, and he knew he wasn't going to last very long. Letting Rantaro take over with rubbing his clit, he wrapped his hand around Rantaro's cock to stroke it.

Rantaro rolled his head back when he could feel the warmth of Y/N's hand wrap around his cock, which twitched eagerly at the sudden stimulation. "S-shit.. hah.. Y/N.. not gonna last much longer..." He moaned, pressing his thumb into and rubbing Y/N's clit some more, matching the pace in which Y/N stroked his cock.

Y/N's thighs squeezed together as he came undone at Rantaro's hands, making more of a mess of his underwear than he did before. He swirled and flicked his tongue inside of him as he jerked his boyfriend off faster. He wanted to make Rantaro feel good too.

Rantaro felt as Y/N made a mess of his underwear, rutting his hips against his boyfriend's face before coming undone, his cum spurting out onto Y/N's chest and hand as his eyes rolled back, letting out a low moan. He would've never guessed that sitting on Y/N's face would feel this good, but man he was not disappointed. Rantaro slowly blinked a few times before beginning to lift his hips to let Y/N breathe.

Y/N panted to regain his breath before swiping a finger through the sum on his chest, bringing it to his mouth. He licked the cum off of it. "It was even more amazing then I thought it would be." He sat up when Rantaro got off of him. "So, be honest... What did you think?"

Y/N grinned and pushed Rantaro onto stomach. "We can try it again now~ I can't get enough of your ass~" He dived back in to eat his boyfriend's ass, not wanting to stop at just once that night.

[infamous-light]

Captured Part VI

Dark! Wandanat x Villain/Mutant! F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

AO3: Captured

Summary: You and your mutant friends have been in hiding due to the havoc you all wreaked over the past few years. One day, you all decided to make your presence known and rob one of the largest federal reserve banks in the U.S.

Unfortunately, things did not go as planned for you.

Word count: 2.4K

Warnings: Allusion to non-con (it's not explicit), mind manipulation, kidnapping

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows through the broken windows of an abandoned rowhouse, you slouched in an old armchair, its once plush fabric now tattered and worn. Your fingers idly traced the frayed edges as you listened to the murmurs of your friends surrounding you.

To your left, Caleb paced back and forth, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. He ran a hand through his hair, the strands standing on end with static. Wes leaned against the back wall, idly flipping a switchblade open and closed.

Aria sat cross-legged on the floor nearby, her fingers flying across the keys of her laptop, the screen casting a faint glow on her face. Ellie stood by one of the windows, peering out into the darkening neighborhood, her expression unreadable.

“We need a lot of cash, and we need it fast,” Caleb muttered, rubbing his temples in frustration. “We've got debts to some dangerous people, and you know they're not the patient type.”

Wes nodded solemnly. “We could always hit up another drug stash.”

Ellie shook her head. “We've hit up every dealer in Baltimore already. We need something bigger. Something that can last us long term.”

“True. I guess we can't keep relying on small-time gigs.” Wes added, his brow furrowing in contemplation.

The air grew heavy with desperation as everyone racked their brains for a solution. And then, like a beacon of hope in the darkness, Caleb's suggestion cut through the silence.

“What about the Federal Reserve Bank in New York?” He said, his voice tinged with excitement.

Your heart skipped a beat as the weight of his proposal sank in. The Federal Reserve Bank. One of the most heavily guarded institutions in New York City.

Your eyebrows rose as you glanced at Caleb. “The Fed? Seriously?”

“Yeah, think about it,” Ellie chimed in. “All that money just sitting there, waiting for someone to take it.”

“Hold on just a moment,” Aria interjected. “The federal reserve doesn’t actually hold cash.”

A collective sigh rippled through the group, and Caleb threw his hands in the air in frustration.

“Well, there goes my idea.” He grumbled.

Aria held up a hand, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. “But it does hold something far better. Gold bars. Thousands of them.”

That revelation sparked a renewed fervor among everyone.

“We'd just need a solid plan,” you said cautiously, trying to sound practical despite the excitement building inside of you. “If we manage to pull this off, we have to leave the country as soon as possible. We'll need to lay low for a couple of years again. Is that a risk we're all willing to take?”

The weight of your words hung heavy in the stale air of the building. But the lure of the heist, the promise of freedom and wealth, overshadowed any doubts.

“What places are you thinking of?” Wes asked.

“Well, we could stay in Belarus or Slovakia for a start and then go from there.” You replied, giving him a half shrug.

Aria nodded thoughtfully; her expression serious as she considered the logistics. “Yeah, those countries could work. We'd need a safe house, somewhere off the grid.”

You leaned back into the armchair, its worn upholstery creaking beneath you, and gave your friends a grin.

“So, let's hear it then. How do you propose we pull off the heist of the century?”

***

You stirred from your slumber, feeling the gentle sway of someone shaking your shoulder. Slowly, you blinked your eyes open to see Wanda leaning over you with a smile. She was wearing a flowing sundress, the fabric rustling around her as she shifted on her feet.

“Wake up, darling.” Wanda whispered, her voice a soothing melody that pulled you from the depths of sleep.

Groggily, you stretched and yawned. As your senses came back to life, you realized you had dozed off on the couch, the television playing an ad in the background. Wanda leaned in a little closer, her warm breath brushing against your cheek.

“It's almost dinner time,” she said. “Are you hungry? Would you like us to fix you something to eat?”

You nodded mechanically, more out of habit than genuine hunger. Your gaze drifted past Wanda's shoulder to the clock on the wall. Its hands moved steadily, showing the time to be 4:50 PM.

With a small sigh, you realized how much of the day has already slipped by unnoticed.

“I think I'll go take a shower.” You murmured.

The words were heavy on your tongue as you pushed yourself up from the couch. Wanda nodded understandingly, her expression warm and patient as she gave you space to gather yourself.

“Of course, take your time.” Her gaze lingered on you for a moment before she straightened up.

Your eyes shifted across the living room, and you noticed that Natasha sat at a nearby table, engrossed in her laptop. The sight of Natasha on her laptop triggered a sharp pain in your skull, and suddenly, the image of Aria sitting in front of her own laptop in your dream came rushing back to you.

For a moment, you found yourself frozen in place.

You stood there, lost in the whirlwind of your thoughts. Natasha's gaze lifted from her laptop; her expression inscrutable as she met your eyes.

She broke the silence, her voice steady but tinged with a hint of restraint. “Do you need something?”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond.

“Uh-no, I'm just feeling pretty tired.”  You replied, your voice slightly hoarse.

“Alright.” Natasha said plainly.

She returned her attention to the screen, seemingly unperturbed by the exchange.

Feeling Wanda's light touch on your left shoulder, you looked up to meet her gaze, only to find her giving you a strange look.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, her voice laced with genuine worry. “You seem... distant.”

You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it felt forced on your lips.

“I'm okay. I think I stood up too quickly.”

Wanda studied you for a moment longer, her expression unreadable, before nodding slowly.

“Alright,” she said, her tone gentle yet firm. “Go take a shower. It might help you feel more awake.”

You offered her a grateful nod before leaving the room, the weight of uncertainty still heavy on your mind.

With each step toward the bedroom, the remnants of the dream clung stubbornly to your mind, like tendrils of fog refusing to dissipate. The hallway stretched out before you and you soon reached the center where it split into two. You found yourself at a crossroads, both figuratively and literally.

You glanced down the hallway to the right, where the dim light revealed a series of closed doors leading to other rooms. You didn't have the chance to wander down it last time. Your mind flickered with the idea of discovering more about your surroundings, searching for potential escape exits or hidden passages.

As you looked back toward the living room door, you caught the sound of Wanda and Natasha talking, their voices mingling as they discussed what you all should have for dinner.

No.

There wouldn’t be enough time to do what you needed to do. With a heavy sigh, you pushed aside the urge to snoop around and instead made your way to the bedroom.

As you entered, your eyes drifted toward the only window in the bedroom. Memories of examining the window in the storage room flickered briefly in your thoughts. You approached the window, your hand hovering over it. You placed your palm flat against the cool surface, feeling the smoothness of the glass beneath your touch. But as you did, a sense of disappointment built up within you.

It was made of the same tempered glass as the storage window. Despite the discouragement, you wouldn’t give up. You turned away from the windowsill and stepped into the bathroom, intent on taking a refreshing shower to help clear your mind.

***

You sat at the dinner table, your fork clinking against the plate as you absentmindedly pushed the food around. Wanda was to your right, her expression content as she delicately picked at her own meal. Natasha sat across from you, her gaze fixed on her plate.

Despite the palpable atmosphere, Wanda remained unfazed, engaging you in conversation as if everything was normal.

“Are you enjoying your meal, honey?” Wanda asked, her voice warm and inviting.

You glanced at Natasha, catching her eye for a moment before turning your attention back to Wanda.

“Yeah, it's great.” You said, attempting to sound cheerful.

Wanda's smile faltered for a brief moment, a hint of doubt flickering in her eyes before she smoothed it away with practiced ease. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, wishing for this tension between you and Natasha to end sooner rather than later.

As dinner came to an end, you started to stand, ready to help with the cleanup, but Wanda stopped you with a gentle touch on your arm. “There’s no need to worry about that. Why don't you pick out something for us to watch while we take care of this?”

You hesitated for a moment, but you nodded, grateful for Wanda's gesture to get you out of this situation.

“Sure.”

You headed to the living room, leaving Wanda and Natasha to clean up the remnants of dinner.

Once you entered the living room, you noticed that the couch lacked its usual array of cozy blankets. It seemed oddly bare without them. With a mental note to grab some from the nearby closet, you reached for the remote and scrolled through the options on one of the streaming services.

You paused, your finger hovering over the OK button as you debated between a classic comedy or a gripping thriller. Eventually, you settled on ALF, hoping its humor would help lighten the mood.

With the TV show playing in the background, you made your way over to the closet and opened the door. The hinges creaked as the door swung open, revealing a bunch of blankets and throws neatly folded on the shelves.

You reached in, your fingers grazing the soft fabric as you searched for just the right one to bring back to the couch. You selected a blanket large enough to cover you all, its warmth already promising to chase away the chill that seemed to permeate the room.

Closing the closet door, you sighed, ready to get the night over with. But just as you were about to turn around, the TV suddenly turned off, casting the room into unexpected darkness. Startled, you froze, the blankets slipping from your grasp.

Heart pounding, you slowly turned the rest of the way, your eyes widening as you caught sight of Natasha standing by the couch. You could see the faint outline of her features, illuminated by the glow of the hallway light filtering through the partially closed door.

“Natasha,” your voice trembled slightly, surprised by her sudden appearance. “Is everything okay?”

Natasha's piercing gaze was fixed on you, her eyes burning with a mixture of anger and wounded pride. A cold chill swept through the room, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you realized that whatever was happening was far from over.

Without a word, she advanced toward you. You took a step back, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

“You think you can just deny me?” Natasha's voice cut through the silence like a knife, her tone dripping with venomous contempt.

Before you could respond, Natasha closed the distance between you two in an instant, her hand shooting out to grab your arm in a vice-like grip. The suddenness of it all caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but wince as a jolt of pain shot through your forearm. Her grip was like iron, the force of it leaving bruises to already bloom beneath her fingertips.

“Please, Natasha, stop! You’re hurting me!” You cried out, trying to wrench your arm free from her grasp.

Natasha's grip only tightened, her nails digging into your skin with cruel determination.

With a swift motion, she shoved you backward, sending you stumbling against the couch with a startled gasp. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you braced yourself for another attack. Instead, Natasha loomed over you, her expression twisted into a mask of rage and frustration.

“Why are you being so difficult?” Natasha demanded as she folded her arms across her chest. Her eyes pierced into yours with an intensity that made you squirm internally.

You wanted to resist her control, to break free from this terrible situation. But on the other hand, there was a nagging fear low in your gut, a fear of what she was capable of if you dared to defy her.

“I-I'm just nervous.” You forced out, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. Your palms felt clammy, and you resisted the urge to fidget under her scrutiny.

“I can tell.” Natasha retorted, her tone dry and devoid of sympathy.

“It’s just-I’m not used to doing this kind of thing.” You confessed, the admission leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“Well, you'll get used to it.” Natasha said as she stepped closer. Her hand reached out, fingers tracing a path along your jawline. You shivered under her touch.

“You need to relax,” she murmured, her voice low and husky. “You'll enjoy it, I promise.”

A surge of nausea churned in your stomach, bile rising in your throat at the implication of her words. The thought of succumbing to Natasha's desires against your will filled you with a deep, primal dread.

Natasha’s movements were deliberate as she moved to straddle your hips, pinning your body against the couch. Every inch of your body screamed at you to fight back, to push her away, but you forced yourself to remain still. Her lips then curled into a predatory smirk, her eyes alight with desire.

Natasha leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. “You can't stay nervous forever.” She whispered.

Her hands roamed your body with possessive urgency, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your skin crawled beneath her fingertips, and you fought the urge to recoil. Tears began to well up in your eyes as Natasha's lips brushed against your pulse point.

A wave of revulsion crashed over you, accompanied by a sickening sense of resignation. The line between desire and coercion blurred, leaving you trapped in a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape.