#this has been in my drafts to do for so long but i keep holding it off bc idk what coloring to do
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arcanegifs · 2 years ago
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"Drop the gun."
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lilaccmilk · 2 months ago
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Couldn't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, face!
part 2
summary: merman bf who's obsessed with your boobs.
content warning: the reader is written as a female, he calls you ‘pretty girl’, mentions of boobs and pussy, nipple play, boobs sucking, cunnilingus, smut.
a/n: this has been in my drafts for soooo long.
Merman!Boyfriend who absolutely LOVES your boobs. He’s constantly wanting to touch them. If you’re in private, his hands are always fondling with them. If you’re in public, then he is constantly back hugging you, his arm grazing the underside of them.
His favourite way of hugging? It’s the kind of hug where he pulls you very close, both hands on your waist and your boobs pressed against his hard, sculpted chest. He grins when you tell him that you do know what he’s trying to do. But all he replies is with a shrug and “What do you mean pretty girl?”
He has always been curious about human bodies, but since he started dating you, he’s always touching some part. Your boobs though? They’re his personal playthings.
He has always just fondled them with his hands, imagine his surprise when he finds out that people suck on them too? He thinks he has never been more excited for anything.
That night you’re laid out bare in front of him as he just suckles on your nipples. Squishing them together and massaging them. When you ask him what has gotten into him, he pulls away hesitantly but replaces his mouth with his fingers playing with your nipples.
“You’ve never told me I can do this too pretty girl. You’ve been holding out on me yeah? Let me have this, I’ll fuck you so good later. I promise.”
Yeah so basically he’s just like a nasty dog, frothing and drooling at the mouth at the site of anything that accentuates your tits.
More often than not, he leaves your boobs very sore, but then he suggests that he’ll massage you very gently. Those times after he’s done massaging you (he never really is done, you just tell him to stop) he keeps his mouth and fingers busy in your pussy.
Absolutely filthy way of eating you out. Staying true to his promise he does fuck you till you see stars <3
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chuluoyi · 11 months ago
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LOVER'S QUARREL
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- fushiguro megumi x reader
“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.
genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)
note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
general masterlist
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Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.
And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.
But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.
You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.
You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.
So how dare he spout this now?
“I can't do this anymore.”
"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"
"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."
This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.
You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"
"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."
Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.
Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.
"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"
Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"
"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"
In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.
And yet...
"...I'm sorry."
Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.
And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."
As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.
Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."
You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.
Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.
Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.
"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.
"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."
"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"
"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."
"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."
. . .
"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.
Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”
Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”
“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”
He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.
Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…
How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?
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Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.
With Hakari.
“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.
An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.
Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.
“Megumi?”
Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?
“Megumi!”
“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”
He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."
But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.
"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"
"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.
From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.
...huh?
Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?
What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.
Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—
Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.
How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.
How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.
But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.
“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?
Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?
They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.
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What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?
You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!
You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...
"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.
You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."
This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?
Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.
"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.
Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."
You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.
Stay close, he said... So he is worried...
And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.
You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"
"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.
"You two seem close."
Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?
Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"
In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.
You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?
"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.
Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.
But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"
Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.
For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.
Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.
And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"
"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"
He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.
You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"
"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.
"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.
"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"
Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—
At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.
He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—
Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.
You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.
Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.
And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.
"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"
You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.
It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.
"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."
Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.
"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.
"Don't leave me."
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It was like a distant, hazy memory.
Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.
The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.
You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.
Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.
Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.
Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...
You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.
"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."
When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.
"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."
You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.
“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.
He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.
"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.
However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."
...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?
"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."
"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"
"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"
“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”
Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.
"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"
You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.
You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"
"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.
He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."
And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."
Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."
And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.
“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”
A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.
But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."
And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.
"Maybe I am, yeah."
"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."
"Yeah..."
But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.
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On one sunny day...
"Hey, are you alone?"
Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.
"No. Can I help you?"
The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"
The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—
Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.
"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."
Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.
"Megumi!"
Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—
He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.
"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"
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marvelwitchergilmore · 3 months ago
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Sleeping, Dancing and Mistletoe
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Times when people found evidence that you and Logan were possibly a couple, and the one time you both finally confirmed it.
Disclaimer: Mostly fluff, mentions/illusions to sex, Logan checking you out. Couple of swear words here and there. This has been unfinished in my drafts for at least a week so...yeah. This is finished. little Christmas at the end. Not Proof Read.
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For what felt like the thirtieth time in the hour, you turned over with a huff and pressed your pillow to your ears, trying to muffle the sounds coming from next door. 
And just as it finally died down, you sighed and was just about to thank some ancient being for hearing your prayers when…it started again. 
“That’s it.”
Changing out of your longer pyjama bottoms and into some sleep shorts, you made your way out of your room, keeping your footsteps as quiet as you could until the noises faded away and you started to reach your intended room. 
Opening up the door, you found exactly what you were looking for. 
Shaking his shoulder as he lay on his stomach, you whispered his name, hoping he’d hear you. 
“Logan.” You shook him for a third time. “Logan.” 
Nothing. 
With another sigh, you slapped his face gently and said his name once more, a little louder and firmer. 
“Logan.”
Finally, he groaned. “What?” 
His voice was muffled by his pillow but you could hear him just well enough. Or maybe you were just used to his grunts that they were starting to become their own language you could understand. 
“Move over. I’m sleeping here tonight.”
“What’s wrong with your bed?”
“Nothing.”
“Then go and sleep there.” Logan turned his head away from you and scrunched up his pillow beneath his head.
“I can’t. My neighbours have decided tonight is Valentine’s Day 2.0.”
You pushed half of his body with your hands until he finally got the cue to turn over. 
“Too much information.”
You shook your head, “Too much information is what I’ve been hearing for the last hour.”
Finally, Logan rolled onto his back, his covers covering his bottom half, and groaned. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
Logan straightened himself in his bed, giving you room to get in beside him. And the minute you touched his covers, you were glad you had changed into shorts. 
Logan was like a furnace. Just constant heat radiating from his body and for as much as it, at times, got too hot to stand near him, he was also, in your opinion, the best person to fall asleep beside. 
“Just shut up and go to sleep.”
Laying on your side, it wasn’t long until you closed your eyes, thankful that you could hear nothing other than Logan’s steady breathing and the distant clock down the hall that was forever ticking. 
However, just before you fully drifted off, you felt Logan’s hand take hold of yours and you smiled. 
He could be gruff all he liked, but when it came to you, he could be a softie. 
By the time morning rolled around, Storm was in search of both yourself and Logan. So, when she found your bed empty and cold, she figured Logan would know where you were. 
But he was asleep. 
Right beside you. 
Storm leaned against the door frame for a while, taking in the picture in front of her. 
Logan was fast asleep, something that was a miracle in itself, with you right beside him, your head turned towards the windows in his room, his own looking towards you, all the while, his arm slung over your midsection and one of your own hands, holding his. 
“Storm- what are you- Oh.”
Jean looked inside. 
“Looks like someone had a good night.” She smiled before looking back at Storm. “Do you think we can finally ask if they’re together?”
“I’d say this is confirmation enough.”
You shifted in your sleep as did Logan, and the two girls hid behind the corner for a moment. 
You turned your head and the rest of your body towards Logan, all the while his arm held you in a stronger grip and pulled you towards him. 
It took you a moment but you finally opened your eyes, adjusting to the light before your vision finally cleared on a sleeping Logan. 
For a moment, you allowed the hand between you both to reach up and brush the stray hairs from his eyes. It was rare you ever got to see Logan this…calm. 
Serene. 
Rested. 
Unknowingly, you started to run your left thumb over Logan’s arm that still held onto you. 
Then his fingers twitched, running over the exposed skin at the bottom of your back. 
“Are you watching me sleep?” His voice was rough, the first words in the morning. 
“Not anymore,” you smiled, brushing the final parts of his hair out of his face. 
“Thanks for letting me stay.”
Then a cough came from the door. 
Logan groaned. “Is this a new hobby; watching people sleep?”
Jean and Storm laughed from the door. “You two look cosy.”
You lifted your head and glared at Jean. “There is one reason I’m here. Maybe I think it’s time you make an investment in soundproof walls.”
Jean turned a little red and Storm laughed. 
“Look, we’ve got a busy day. You can kiss your boyfriend later.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you called out just as Logan called; “She’s not my girlfriend.”
Storm and Jean nodded and just as Jean snapped a picture, she sent it to both yourself and Logan as they walked away. 
“Sure.”
Leaning up, Logan reached for his phone to see the notification pop up before he placed it back down and you climbed out of bed. 
“They’re got a point.”
“About us being a couple?”
You threw a t-shirt at Logan. “Having a busy day.”
Logan laughed a little, scrubbing his face as he watched you leave his room before he reached behind him and took hold of his phone once more. 
Jean and Storm were right. 
From the picture…they did look like a couple. 
A couple of days passed and you were sitting in the quiet living room, the fires on both sides roaring. 
All classes had been finished for two days and some kids had returned home for the holidays, which meant you had some free time on your hands. 
And for you, that meant finally reading. 
Until you sensed someone stood behind you. 
“If you want to know what happens, you could just ask me.”
Logan plucked the book from your hands and circled around the sofa before coming to sit down beside you. 
“Logan! Give it back.”
“I want to see what it’s about.”
You sighed and sat up, “It’s a romance, Logan.”
“A romance?” Logan had a hint of a smirk on his face. “Like the…trashy kind?”
“Like the romantic kind.”
Logan looked at you and smiled. “The trashy kind.”
You rolled your eyes and took the book back from him, leaving him to fix the blanket so it rested over both of you. He placed his arm over the back of the sofa, allowing you to lean into him, whether you noticed you were doing so or not. 
“Just because you might not believe in romance, doesn’t mean the rest of us are the same.”
“I believe in romance.” 
“Yeah, right.”
Logan couldn’t help but smile. “What?”
“The Wolverine,” you said with a deep voice. “Believes in romance?”
Logan nodded. “Occasionally.”
“Occasionally?”
“Do you just like repeating everything I say?”
You nodded and smiled. “Occasionally.”
Logan rolled his eyes and took the book back from you and read a line out loud. 
“People really talk like this?”
You leaned into Logan. “No, but in a book it’s not so bad. Go on, read some more.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
You nodded. “You’re like my own personal audiobook.”
Logan gave a short smile before getting a little cosier and continued reading out loud. 
It wasn’t long before Logan found you asleep against him and he shifted in order to avoid you getting a crick in your neck. 
“Keep reading.”
“I thought you were asleep.” 
“Now I’m awake.” 
“Fine, just be quiet.”
You gave a fake salute. “Yes, sir.”
Holding his arm around your body that was pressed between himself and the sofa, Logan quickly kissed the top of your head and went back to reading. 
And ten minutes later, you were asleep. 
And so was he. 
An hour passed before someone found either of you, but this time, it was Scott and Bobby. 
“They might be in- oh. What do we have here?”
“Oh my god, Rouge has to see this. I told her they were together.”
Bobby rushed off and soon returned, pulling Rouge with him. 
“What is it?” Then she gasped. 
“Believe me now?”
And what Rouge saw made her smile. 
On the slightly too small sofa for Logan, you lay both between him and the sofa, as well as partly on him with your hand a little over his heart. His head was turned towards you. The blanket had fallen a little, so she reached over and pulled it up both of you before turning around and throwing a log onto the fire. 
“Come on, let's leave them.”
“But-”
“No, you are not going to disturb them. Come on.”
Rouge dragged the pair out and closed the door behind her. 
The third time people suspected you and Logan were an item was one late evening in October. 
Half of the kids were playing outside with all the freshly fallen leaves, whilst some of the older kids helped them find different critters and point them out, and build them habitats. The rest of the kids were either in their rooms or studying. 
Save for two. 
Bobby and Rouge were hiding outside of the kitchen watching yourself and Logan cook. 
“I didn’t even know he knew how to…chop. Let alone cook.”
“You should have more faith in him.”
“Come on, Rouge. You can’t tell me you weren't thinking it, too.”
And she couldn’t. Because she was. 
Meanwhile inside the kitchen, Logan was watching you from the kitchen island as he continued chopping the veg. 
There was something different about you. From the way you practically danced around the kitchen finding the different items for the recipe, to just…you. Whilst he was (semi) shirtless, just having his zipper hoodie on, along with his jeans and socks. He would have been fully dressed, except you had come and ambushed him in his room – even though you denied the word “ambushed” – to get him to help. 
And you were just simply in your pyjamas (of sorts) along with one of his zipper hoodies. 
“Bub,”
Logan laid down his knife and walked over to you as you stood by the stove, standing a little higher to see how much water was left in the pot at the back. 
You hummed a questioned response, but was met with a question…you didn’t expect. 
“Dance with me?”
“What?”
Logan smiled lightly as he pulled the wooden spoon from your hand and pulled you closer to him, despite him walking backwards. 
“Come on,” his voice in a light whisper. “Dance with me.”
“Didn’t take you for a dancer.”
Outside the door, Bobby and Rouge mouthed to each other; “They’re dancing.”
And you both were. 
Gently swaying to the music for a while, you allowed Logan to lead you around a small space in the centre of the kitchen. 
“We’re gonna burn the sauce.”
Logan gave a slight smile at you as he spun you out and back in, “We’re not gonna burn the sauce.”
“Logan.”
“Can’t you ever just enjoy a moment?”
“When that moment doesn’t include burning the house down, yes.”
“Bit of a jump, don’t you think, from burning the sauce.”
“Ha, so you agree. We’re gonna burn the sauce.”
Moving over, Logan turned down the heat on one of the pans before taking your hand back into his. “Now we won’t.”
Bobby and Rouge watched, in shock, the rest. 
For one, Logan knew how to dance? Since when? And since when did he…cook and dance in the kitchen? Unless…
Then Logan did something even you didn’t expect. 
He dipped you. 
You hand tightened its grip on Logan’s arm as you let out a small, if a little nervous, laugh. 
Logan had been full of surprises recently. From the impromptu audiobook session in which you woke up in his arms, to him not only dropping off a cup of coffee during your break from teaching but also a freshly baked muffin. 
And now he was dancing with you in the kitchen. 
And dipping you. 
When you had rushed him out of his room to help you cook, you hadn’t expected him to know the recipe for the sauce from the top of his head. Something he just happened to rattle off whilst you were looking for the cooking notebook that should have been in the cupboard beside the oven. Let alone be the one to ask to dance in the kitchen, and dip you. 
Bring you back up, both of you gave a slight chuckle as you turned around, the music slowly fading away in the background. 
“Logan…”
Looking at him, you forgot what you were going to say. 
Had his eyes always had so much green in them? 
Logan’s palm became warm against your back as it pressed further into you. Or maybe you pressed further into him and he just held you tighter. 
Slowly, your hand left his bicep and trailed towards his chest all the while your eyes studied his face. You’d known him for years and seen him a thousand times or more. 
So why did now feel like you were seeing him for the first time? Noticing him? Noticing each particle he was made up of that allowed him to sway with you in the kitchen to the music that had changed on the radio?
Only, before the space between yourself and Logan became any more closer, a noise came from outside the door. 
A sneeze. 
A sneeze that shocked you and Logan back into reality. 
Still holding you, Logan looked towards the door and gave a hint of a smile when he saw the flash of white disappear behind the beam. 
Realising what was happening, you lowered yourself back to the ground and slowly stepped out of Logan’s arms. “We should finish up.”
Logan nodded in agreement, however did look back at you when you got back to the stove, not noticing you do the same a few moments later, watching him pick up the rest of the veg and toss it into the collider to be washed. 
Time passed and after more music, more conversation - including a burnt tongue from when you had shoved a wooden spoon with fresh sauce on, into Logan’s mouth for him to try - and a lot of scrubbing later, you found Logan sitting inside the library and collapsed next to him. 
“Good news, the kids loved the food,” you told Logan. “Double good news; Jean and Scott are on cooking duty tomorrow.”
“Thank fuck.”
“Thank you for helping me.” Turning to look at Logan, you found him already looking. 
“You did ambush me.”
“I didn’t ambush you.”
“I wasn’t dressed.” Logan examined himself. “Technically, I’m still not.”
You rolled your eyes with a slight smile. “Fine. Maybe it was a mini, tiny, miniscule ambush.” 
You made a small space between your fingers. “Like this big of an ambush.”
Logan looked at you, at your fingers and then back to you in slight disgust before moving your fingers wider with his own. 
“That big of an ambush.”
You rolled your eyes and dropped your hand. “And they say us women are dramatic.”
It was Logan’s turn to roll his eyes. However, as he did so, his arm wrapped around you, and pulled you back into him and the sofa. 
“Just shut the fuck up for a minute and listen.”
You did so. 
“I don’t hear anything.”
“That’s the point.” Logan’s eyes were shut as his head rested on the back of the sofa. 
Eventually you gave a shrug and joined him. 
An hour later, Storm found you both fast asleep beside one another so with a knowing smile, she found a blanket, covered you both up and closed the door behind her. But not before reminding herself she needed to get verbal confirmation from you both. 
She wasn’t handing over any money to Jean and Xavier until she had verbal confirmation of what exactly was going on between you two. 
And she didn’t have to wait long…at least in the long run, she didn’t have to wait long. 
Until then, there were plenty more incidents of falling asleep next to each other, bringing each other coffee, dancing to music in the kitchen, smiling and laughing – all before she finally got verbal confirmation that the inevitable had finally happened. 
Finally, it was acceptable to decorate for Christmas. 
Two days prior, Rogue, Logan and Storm had been helping you find all the old decorations in the attic and bring them down. Storm did try then to bribe something out of Rogue, but she apparently was just in the dark as the rest of them. 
But the smile she gave when she looked over at Logan, who was placing down another box from the back of the pile for you to take a look at, told Storm something different. 
“I can’t believe you leave it this late to decorate.”
Logan looked at you. “We’re still in November.”
“So?” 
Taking hold of the garland, you started to climb the ladder. Logan held onto the bottom just to be safe. 
“If you had it your way, the decorations would be up all year round.”
“Hey, no.”
“Hey, yes.”
“I’d take them down for…” you tried to think. “Halloween. You’d have a little break.”
Logan didn’t look entirely thrilled. “Halloween is one day.”
“Technically, it’s a month.”
“To you, it’s a month. To the rest of us, it’s a day.”
You looked back at him. “To you it’s a day, to the rest of us it’s a month.”
Then you looked back at the garland. “How does that look?”
“Great from where I’m standing.”
You looked a little confused for a second before quickly looking over your shoulder, realising where Logan was, in fact, looking. 
Not at the garland, but at your ass. 
You smiled and started to step down the ladder, hitting his shoulder on the way down. 
“I meant the garland.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Logan looked up. “Looks great.”
You laughed. “You didn’t even look.”
With a smile as you finally stepped back into his arm, he looked to the side and up. “It looks great.”
“Good. Now,” Logan turned back to look at you and you kissed him quickly. “We have to put up five more.”
“I get to watch you put up five more.”
You smiled. “This is why you’re my favourite person.”
Logan smiled. He could help you with everything else, but when it came to the garland, you had full control on where it went. Which, he didn’t mind. So long as he got to watch you put it up. 
You quickly kissed him once more, only to be pulled back when you tried to walk away. 
Then Logan gave you a real kiss. 
A little dizzy, you smiled and placed a hand on his chest and closed your eyes. “Wow.”
He gave you a quicker, lighter kiss. “You better get going before Rogue comes back with another box of lights.”
“Light?” Then it hit you. “Oh, yeah.”
Logan smirked a little as he watched you walk away and down the hallway. 
It was a couple of hours before everyone was in the same room, making the final touches all the while most of the other kids were either playing outside in the snow, were taking naps or decorating their own rooms. 
And the others had been watching you and Logan all day. 
The stolen glances, the stolen touches, the slightly knowing smiles from both Rogue and Bobby. And then, as Logan was helping you down from the ladder, his hand on your thigh, Bobby went to make the final hammer to hang up the mistletoe. 
“Wait, no. Not there.”
“Where then?”
Storm looked around. “I know. Y/n, hang this just above there. We don’t need a remake of Mistletoe Central 1997.”
Logan looked at Storm. “Do I wanna know?”
Storm shook her head. “Here.”
She handed you the mistletoe before Logan passed you the hammer back from his belt. 
Three knocks and the nail was set in and the mistletoe was above you on a corner beam, just a little to the side of the christmas tree. 
At least this way, those looking for it, would find it. 
"Oh, no, wait.” Jean said, looking at you. “Have to kiss someone. It’s tradition. You’re under the mistletoe.”
There was no one else apart from Logan.
Logan looked around at the others. He wondered how long it would take. 
Coming up behind you on the ladder, you moved over for him to stand beside you. His palm on your back held you steady and, leaning his other arm on the ledge of the ladder, his hand cupped your face and he kissed you. 
Lasting a little longer than the others had expected, you soon heard Rogue giving a little cheer, as well as a couple of whistles from the others. 
“Okay, I think they get it.” You whispered to Logan as he finally pulled away, a smile very noticeable on both of your faces. 
“Happy now?” Logan asked, turning towards where Jean and Scott were standing. 
“That was some kiss.”
You felt yourself blush at the comment. As did Logan. 
He helped you back down the ladder before you both turned and really saw the other's expression. As well as the exchanging of money between people. 
“Sooo…how long has this been going on?”
You were leaning into Logan, his hand around your back and on your hip. 
You looked at Logan, “A couple of months. We’re…what? November now so that would…”
“That would…” Logan counted back in his head. “May…June, July…six months.”
You looked back to the others. “Six months.”
A chorus of shocked faces and loud voices sounded out; “SIX MONTHS?!”
All before a small call from Rogue was made, which made both yourself and Logan smile. 
“I knew it!”
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cxffecoupx · 3 months ago
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what 2 am with them looks like
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seventeen × gn reader comfort, healing (kinda, idk) warnings: mentions of making love, food wc: 1.3k author's notes: this was a random thought, and has been in my drafts for so long, so i decided i had to complete it. writing this gave me a peace i didn't know existed, so i love this work very much. i hope you guys love it too <3
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➼ choi seungcheol
in bed. he's probably fucking you into the next week, making you cum at least 5 times before he kisses you gently and washes you up and prepares to sleep. if not this, then you're probably on your side of the bed. the other side of the bed remains empty, because your cuddly clingy boyfriend is wrapped around you, strong arms trapping your movements and legs tangled together.
➼ yoon jeonghan
dumb conversations. lying in bed, your head resting on his arm, your arm wrapped around his torso that shakes with the laughter. it's probably one of your lame jokes that only he finds funny, or one of his hilarious stories about seungkwan and chan, but it's got you both clutching your stomachs after a while. he pulls you close with his arm that's under your head and presses a light kiss to your forehead before finding another interesting topic. when do you sleep that night, that's a question you both have no answer for.
➼ hong jisoo
deep conversations. you're both sitting in your bedroom, hugging pillows as you slip into deep conversations about the universe and your future. you aren't sure how you got here, you were in your bed to sleep one moment and in the next, you're both sitting as you talk about your wedding and your house and the stars and the moon and his mom and his job; the conversation flows easily into the next topic. he only stops when he sees you suppress a yawn for the 3rd time before kissing you and suggesting you both go to sleep.
➼ moon junhui
watching cat videos. it all started a few hours ago, with you and jun on either side of the bed, scrolling through phones. you roll over to him, perfectly landing your head on his chest as you show him your screen. "look junie," you said as you shoved the phone into his face. he chuckles before holding your hand and focusing on the video of an orange cat tripping over it's own feet. he laughs watching it, and it ends up in you lying on his chest as you both watched every single cat video available on the earth. your laughs filled the room and tears filled your eyes, but it felt so good, spending time doing silly things like this.
➼ kwon soonyoung
passive watching soap operas. its the time of calm and quiet after the rush of the day, so when you turn on the tv after dinner, you stay like that until late hours. except the focus has moved from the drama on the tv to drama from work. from sitting at the ends of the couch, you end up tangled somehow - his head resting on your lap or him sitting on the floor, hands held with yours. the tv drones on at a low volume, but by then you've both shared all the tea from your work and are giggling over the littlest of things. in the morning, you're both probably on the floor, one of the cushions as a pillow and keeping warm by hugging each other.
➼ jeon wonwoo
playing games. after much practice and pain, you'd finally gotten better at the games wonwoo often played. most nights you'd be a team going against your other friends, but sometimes you prefer to play against him. and when that happens, it ends in either of the two ways: you're winning and start shaking your hips, or he's winning and decides to deliberately lose to help you win. either way, he wants to see your happy lil dance.
➼ lee jihoon
in his studio. jihoon's seated in his studio, working on a new track. when you arrive, he immediately pulls you to him, making you sit on his lap as he hands you his headphones. you look at him, confused, but wear them anyway and listen as he plays the track he was just working on. as you fall deeper into the melody of the song, he grips your hips in anticipation. it was a song to you, from him, containing the most heartfelt emotions he'd felt for you, but couldn't communicate properly. so he decided to put them into a song, a language he speaks so well and one that you understand.
➼ lee seokmin
having breakfast cereal. you'd gone through great lengths to find and buy the brand of cereal you both highly enjoyed. so now that you have it, why wait for the morning? when he wakes you up in the middle of the night, anxious and groggy about your reaction, he'd worried you'd judge him. but maybe it's the sleepiness hanging in his mind that he forgot you both basically share the same braincell. so the next minute you're stumbling into the kitchen, looking for bowls and cartons and giggling over spilling milk and noisy spoons. by the time you're done, your stomach's filled with food and heart's filled with love.
➼ kim mingyu
moments of soft intimacy. the evening goes by peacefully: you both come home, tired and exhausted; have a silent dinner mingyu lovingly prepared and talk about work; after some leftover work you both head to bed. but slowly, the stroke on the cheek becomes kissing, drawing shapes on your back as you kiss and nip at the base of his neck. mingyu's vulnerable now, only with you, but neither of you are in a rush to haste. his hands cup over your ass and thighs; your hands are braided in his hair. his palms knead the flesh of your breasts; your fingers gently brush across his chest and abs. whether or not you make love comes later, but you sleep peacefully in each other's embrace.
➼ xu minghao
sky-watching. when you poke him awake, he's definitely concerned, but the first thought that pops to his head when you say you cant sleep is to go sit in the balcony. so now, at 2 am, you're in the balcony, a cup of warm tea in your hands and xu minghao at your side. its silent, but its a comfortable silence that wraps around you like a blanket, and warmed up by the tea he specially made for you. and although for others, the silence might seem awkward, minghao knows that this is exactly what you need to escape from the thoughts racing around in your mind.
➼ boo seungkwan
late night walks. seungkwan's energy peaks after he comes home and sees you, so walks to tire you both out becomes a staple in the routine. youre walking the streets in matching hoodies (that's because you take one of his) and even in the cold, he makes it a habit to hold your hand in his. you wander through new streets every night, discovering new neighbourhoods, having a quick snack from the convenience store, and usually stumble over a park or play area. you can feel seungkwan's eyes light up and the next thing you know, youre on the swings, side-by-side. with the little squeeze of your hand, he lets you know he's ready to go back.
➼ chwe hansol
watching a movie. to hansol, any logical being would be asleep at this hour. (un)fortunately for him, you weren't as logical as he thought. but maybe he enjoys it because why else would he allow you to keep him awake at this ungodly hour, watching 'Tangled' for the twentieth time now? all frowns erase the moment he sees pascal on the screen, and a smile places itself. he becomes so engrossed in the movie he doesn't even notice that you'd fallen asleep about halfway through the movie. when he does notice tho, he silently closes the laptop and places it away, before slipping back into the bed to get his precious sleep.
➼ lee chan
listening to him talk. chan loves to talk, and you love to listen to him talk. while mostly by this time you're both dead asleep, sometimes you end up in the balcony, the wind playfully ruffling his hair as he goes on and on about something he's so so passionate about. it could be the most trivial things, but the way his eyes go wide as he's expressing his emotions and the way they catch the moonlight in them like little stars. you're gonna be pretty tired the next morning, but when chan's with you, you couldn't care less.
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alisonwritesimagines · 2 months ago
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Picture Perfect ~Batmom Imagine~
Summary: Damien wants to take the perfect photo for you.
Author’s Note: Posting this from my drafts because it is time for it to come out of hiding.
BatFam Masterlist
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings: none, fluff
Do not repost this anywhere!
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"Dick, sweetie. Please go tell Damian that he's going to be late for school. He's been upstairs for a while," you tell your oldest son as you tried to feed Martha.
"On it!"
Dick found Damian standing in front of the bathroom mirror, combing his hair to his idea of perfection.
"Damian. Mom said you're going to run late for school," Dick tells him.
“I wanna look good for picture day for Ummi,” Damien tells Dick.
“You know mom will love your pictures no matter what.”
“I know that but I want this to be extra special. After she had Martha, she’s been busy,” Damien explains.
“You know mom loves us no matter what. Sure she may be busy with Martha but that’s because Martha’s a newborn. She needs the attention at the moment. But you know mom will give you attention again soon.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Just make sure you’re in the car in ten minutes,” Dick told Damien.
“Of course.”
“You look so handsome, Damien!” You tell your son as he rushed down to the kitchen. “Cassandra, honey. Your ballet is divine but please be careful.”
“Sorry mom.”
“Have a good day at school, Damien! I look forward to seeing your pictures when we get them!” You smile sweetly at him.
“It’ll be the best you’ll have,” Damien tells you as he rushed out of the house with a bagel.
The moment Damien stepped into the school, he felt victorious. He succeeded in going into school without messing up his hair. That was until a student tripped and spilled their water bottle onto Damien.
——
His picture was anything but perfect. Damien handed you the framed photo before looking down in shame.
“Aw. I love it!” You chirped happily as you hugged Damien.
“You do?” Damien asked, looking up at you surprised.
“Trust me Damien. I have at least one awkward photo of all my children and you have added to my collection,” you say as you kissed his head.
“You really like it?” Damien asked you.
“If you want to do a redo picture, that’s fine with me. But I will be keeping this one no matter what,” you tell him.
“So when Martha has an awkward photo…”
“I’ll keep that one too. As long as I continue to have photos of my children, I’ll love them all.”
“I’ll do something even more special for you to make up for this!” Damien promised.
“And I look forward to it. But for now, let’s go ahead and hang this up,” you tell Damien as you put it with your other children’s pictures on your wall. You admired the photo before looking back at Damien.
“As long as I have pictures of you all, I don't mind how they look," you tell him.
---
“Come on. What’s taking so long?” Tim asked as he walked into Martha’s room.
“Martha doesn’t want to wear the bow!” Stephanie tells him.
“Come on Martha. Put on the pretty bow. Please,” Tim asked. Martha stared up at her older brother as she shook her head.
“What’s going on?” Damien asked as he walked into the room.
“Martha doesn’t want to put on the bow,” Tim said.
“Let me try. Come here Martha. Let’s put on the bow,” Damien said as he put the headband on his little sister. Martha smiled up at her older brother before reaching up for him to hold her.
“Why does she like you more?” Stephanie asked.
“Because I spend more time with her. Now let’s hurry. Mom and dad will be home soon and I want this photo to be perfect."
Your birthday was always celebrated lavishly. Bruce would fly in your closest family and friends for a dinner and anything else you wanted to do. So Damien thought this would be the perfect time to make up that horrible picture he took for picture day. As well for his siblings to also make up their own awkward school photos.
“Thank you Bruce for throwing me my birthday party. And thank you all for coming and celebrating with us,” you say out loud to everyone at your party.
“We would actually like to surprise our mom with a present gifted to her by her children,” Dick announced after you. You and Bruce looked at them as the kids brought in a wrapped gift.
“From us to you Ma. Happy birthday,” Jason said. You opened up the gift to see a framed photo of all the kids dressed in suits and dresses with a smile on their faces. You teared up as you stared at the photo.
“I love it!” You say.
“Now you can have all of us in one picture,” Damien said.
“I love it. Thank you sweetie,” you tell him as you kiss his head.
“We also took some individual photos to make up for our awkward school pictures,” Tim mentioned as he handed you another present.
“Thank you. I love it so much,” you say as you cried from happy tears.
Bonus:
“Come on you guys! Damien promised me we’d go to the arcade after this,” Martha said as she dragged two of her older siblings into the room.
“Sorry! Traffic was bad,” Tim said as he stood in between Jason and Damien.
“Remember how Martha didn’t want to put in her bow until Damien asked nicely?” Stephanie asked Tim.
“Those were the good ol days,” Tim sighed.
“Alrighty! Ready?” Cassandra asked.
“Perfect! Okay kids. Smile right over here,” the photographer said before taking the picture of the batkids.
It had been a tradition for the kids to take a picture all together every year for your birthday present. It was to show how each of them have grown over the years. No matter what was going on, each batkid had agreed to meet up one day a year with no excuses to take the photo for you.
"I think this is our best one yet," Damien said as he looked at the photos.
"Aright, see you all next year," Jason joked as he walked out.
"Come on! We gotta go!" Martha told Damien.
"Okay. Okay."
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ddejavvu · 3 months ago
Note
for a Tyler request what about him and reader getting into a really bad argument and storming off and when he cools down he can’t find her and is panicking
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Alive and Crazy - Tyler Owens x Reader
come participate in tyler owens night !
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Perhaps it was cruel of you to pick such a secluded hiding spot, but after all, isn't that what hiding's all about? Perhaps then the cruel part was hiding at all. But you can't shake Tyler's vicious words, "Y'know, if you don't stop trying to hold me back, maybe I should just cut myself loose."
All this over a tornado? His lifestyle is... intense. You are of the opinion that Tyler's hobby is ridiculously dangerous, and while you're slightly comforted by the safety precautions he takes (especially the drills that anchor his truck into the ground), you're less than impressed with the way he shows off and makes those precautions almost useless. Really, does he need to lean out of the window to see how long he can handle it? You'd only been trying to find some middle ground, but Tyler apparently seems to think you're trying to chain him up in the basement to prevent him from ever having any fun.
There's a secluded cabinet in the back of your laundry room that's perfect for hiding - just big enough to fit in and with an outlet for easy phone charging. You're just about to hit your two hour mark huddled in the cabinet when you hear thundering footsteps nearing your location.
"Baby? Hey, baby, y'gotta tell me where you are. Come on, baby, just wanna know you're safe. You in here?"
That's the last thing you hear before daylight spills into your dark cabinet, and your phone's screen becomes instantly duller in comparison. You glare up unimpressed at Tyler but his face crumples in relief so fast that you can barely hold the expression.
"Shit darlin'." He heaves a sigh, and any sympathy you'd felt for him instantly disappears when he has the gall to scold you next, "Do you know how damn long I've been looking for you?"
"Oh I'm sorry," You bite up at him, rage reigniting in your eyes, "Does my need for space inconvenience you?"
"No!" He nearly shrieks, but he reins himself in, "No, no, that's not- I shouldn't have said it like that. I was just worried."
"Well I'm not sure why," You turn back to your phone, but there's no concentration present as you mindlessly scroll, "I'd have expected you to be out enjoying your freedom seeing as you're cutting yourself loose."
"I'm not cutting myself loose." He vows, and it's soft instead of his typical drawl. He crouches, then makes the terrible, horrible decision to attempt to fit into the crawlspace with you.
"No- no, Tyler, you can't fit!" You squeal as he shoulders his way in, pressed flush to his body as he settles in a space half his size.
"It's fine." He grunts, but it's labored and very much not fine, "I just wanna be near you."
"I don't wanna be near you." You sneer, but you make no move to get up, "The whole reason I'm squeezed into this cabinet is because I was trying to hide from you."
"Did a damn good job, too." He admits, head slumped against the wall instead of your shoulder, "I was runnin' around for almost half an hour."
"Serves you right." You grumble, "Don't say mean shit if you want people to like you."
"I know." He reaches out and sets a hand on your knee, chaste and reassuring, "I'm sorry, darlin'. I just- lost control, or something. I don't know. I've been doin' this my whole life, and when you try to tell me how to do it, it makes me feel like you don't think I can handle it myself."
"Tyler, no one can. Some of the things that you're doing-" You stop yourself short, "I'm not saying you can't have fun. I'm not saying you can't chase- er, wrangle tornadoes. I'm just saying you don't have to keep trying to outdo yourself. There has to be a limit, otherwise you'll get killed."
He's silent after your speech, perhaps mulling it over, perhaps drafting his counterargument. In the end, he tips his head from the wall to your shoulder, and murmurs close to your ear.
"Yeah. You're right. I think... I think I just don't know when to stop sometimes."
"I agree with that," You try to keep too much accusation from seeping into your tone, "But that's why I said something. I don't want you to stop, I just don't want it to stop you."
"Yeah. Alright. I understand." And he sounds like he does. He laces his fingers with yours like he does, and he cranes his neck to peck his lips against your cheek like he does.
"You're not holding me back," He promises, "What I said earlier... that was dumb. This is a partnership, not some sort of prison sentence. I love you, darlin'."
"I love you too," You sigh, leaning sideways into his embrace, "You promise no more hanging out of windows?"
"I promise I won't anymore. Can't promise nothin' for Boone."
"Boone's crazy," You laugh, "You're all crazy. I just want you alive and crazy."
"Deal." Tyler grins, holding out a pinky and letting you lock it with yours, "Alive and crazy, darlin'."
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crazychaoticizzy · 3 months ago
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Just the Tip
CONTENT: 18+, MDNI, smut, unprotected sex, morning sex, dom/sub/switch reader and character depending on which one you’re reading, my knowledge on some of these characters is limited since i’m new to the fandom so they may be mischaracterized, the most basic concept but it’s something ✨
WORD COUNT: 573
MASTERLIST
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“C’mon, baby… Just the tip, I swear.”
You both knew he was lying. He didn’t do just the tip. You knew that, and yet you still obliged him in the early morning.
“Just for a bit. I have a meeting today,” you mumble. You bury your face further into your pillow as he climbs on top of you. Now that you’d said it, you realized how much you didn’t want to go to that business meeting.
“I know, baby. I swear this time it’ll really be just the tip.”
You hum as he pushes your panties aside. His fingers briefly glide against your folds before he replaces them with his cock.
For a moment, he abides by his promise and only puts in the tip. He ruts into you and moans in your ear before pushing more of himself in. You’re too tired to notice entirely, although you can feel it. You don’t comment on it, though, even knowing that you should. You excuse it by convincing yourself just a little bit of indulgence wouldn’t hurt anyone.
It isn’t long until his hips meet yours. Your mouth falls open in a surprises moan when he pulls out almost completely and shoved himself back inside. Your eyes shoot open, and you look up at him with a questioning gaze.
“Oops.” The stupid smirk on his face tells you this is definitely not and oops situation, but you can’t find it in yourself to argue. Especially not after he begins a fast pace.
It looks like that meeting will have to wait. What a shame…
Jean Kirstein, Eren Yeager, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro, Ryoumen Sukuna, Roy Mustang, Portgas D. Ace
There was no sound prettier than the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, still groggy with sleep as he holds onto your hips for dear life.
Just the tip. That’s what he’d promised you. But Jesus Christ, the way your walls stretched and squeezed around just the tip made him delirious. You’d barely given him anything and his eyes were already rolled to the back of his head.
He whines and whimpers in your ear, pleading, begging for you to let him put more of himself inside.
“Baby… Baby, please… I know you’re busy today but I need-”
With the way he moans in your ear, his hands twisted in the sheets and leaving bruises on your hips, it would just be cruel to say no, wouldn’t it?
Armin Arlert, Reiner Braun, Choso Kamo, Sanji Vinsmoke
Sometimes you find yourself hating how coy he can be. How fucking clever he is infuriates you, especially when it’s early in the morning and the only thing you want is for him to not follow what you said.
You moaned his name, long and drawn out, as you tried moving your hips back to push more of him inside you.
But he keeps his hands on your hips, preventing you from moving any further. He tuts and shakes his head, barely moving the tip in and out.
“We can’t get too carried away. We both have things to do today,” he whispered, his voice still raspy and thick with sleep.
You groan, attempting to move your hips again. When he resists, you give up. “Please,” you beg.
He chuckles. You think for a moment that he’ll give in to your pleas and screw you until you’re a mess beneath him, but he only kisses your cheek and pulls away.
It leaves you feeling empty and upset, even with the promise of a proper fucking when the two of you return to work.
Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman, Kento Nanami
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this has been in the drafts since at least February sorry about that guys hope y’all enjoyed 💜
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zriasstuff · 8 months ago
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Slytherin boys x reader (kinky shit vol.2)
Warnings: 18+ sexual content, orgasm denial kink (?), not proof read, long lost trashy & horny draft from my wattpad era (a moment of silence for that), cringe, enjoy ?
(not that anyone rlly cares, but i thought I’d at least pull this out since i haven’t posted actual writing in 1,5 weeks, vol.1 in case you’re curious)
Mattheo Riddle:
Mattheo was incredibly skilled with his mouth, knowing just where to flick his tongue and how hard to suck on your clit to make you melt. Shaking and squirming, you’d grab onto his curly hair, and he would hold your thighs over his shoulders and bury his face deep within your sweet cunt. Always licking up every drip coming from your precious cunt and sucking his fingers clean after stretching you out.
Eventually he figured that he could make you even needier by removing himself for a few seconds. In response you would desperately pull his head closer to your cunt and whine him “don’t you dare fucking stop now”, but he’d just tease your entrance by slowly licking stripes, so you wouldn’t be able to reach your climax.
It was torture, yet you have to admit he made it worth it. “Please Matty keep going”, you’d plea, “plea- please just pleasee”, you’d just repeat that as often as you could, but he enjoyed seeing you on edge.
Tom Riddle:
It’s his favorite form of punishing you for when you act bratty towards him, or when he’s in an angry mood in general, which is quite frequently. His practice of orgasm denial involves painstakingly long teasing until your cunt is all worn out and until you basically can’t think properly anymore. All your thoughts just revolve around one thing, riding out your orgasm completely without feeling as if something was being ripped away from you instead. Tom always fucks you first, pulling out just when you’re about to cum. Instead he releases himself all over your thighs, and leaves you to your own devices. The more needy you become, the longer he’ll torture you to see your breaking point. He has a dildo his size, which he’ll fuck you with, always pulling out just when you’re about to cum. It was an endless circle, even bringing out tears in you because it’s too unbearable and you just desperately want to experience that intensive orgasm. Usually he doesn’t let you have it though. Because of that you become unbelievably horny during the next few days, wanting Tom to use you and fuck you in any sort of way, but of course he’d rather watch you squirm and whine under him. “Should’ve thought twice before being a brat”/“Only good girls derserve to cum”/“You look so pathetic, begging for my cock”
Theodore Nott:
Instead of the popular silent treatment you gave to Theo sometimes when you were mad, you also enjoyed seeing him all fidgety and out of control. “Please don’t do this”, he’d beg, but it would all be in vain. Once you decided to bounce up and down on his swollen cock, he couldn’t keep it together anymore. You didn’t allow him to grab your tits, nor to cum. Once you rode his cock long enough to get you close, you got off of him and fingered yourself in front of him until you made a mess of the sheets. His cock would just leak precum from watching you get off, but he was gonna try to not disobey you. He wasn’t allowed to cum until you gave him explicit permission. After you rode him, he was most likely a swearing mess, desperate to touch his own cock and replicate what you do to him. “That’s what you get for making me mad”, you’d tell him and he’d apologize about a thousand times. Sometimes, out of pity, you then satisfy him by allowing him to touch himself, but other times he wouldn’t be so lucky and had to wait until the next day possibly. “I swear I’ll never do it again”, he whines or “Please I’ll do anything”
Blaise Zabini:
He knows that you enjoy your orgasms way more when they’ve been delayed because then they’re just so much more intensive that way. So, when you do it, he obviously wants to make you feel good, even if that means making you feel incredibly bad, even if it’s in a good way, for a moment. His cock was big by all means, it stretched you out perfectly and fit you just right. So after he comes inside you, he makes you cockwarm him instead of pulling out completely. This way he’ll watch you struggle to not roll your hips because if you did you’d try to get him to hit your g-spot. Then, all of a sudden, he’d grab your waist, make you straddle him, and control your body movements with his hands on your waist. Blaise will pull down, and thrust into you from under you. You can’t help but let out a series of cries because Blaise pounded so deep into you that you were sure you’re insides would never recover. Although he’s lying down, he’s still the one in control, so any pleasure you get is decided by him. “Not yet babe”/“Hold on a little longer ok” As you finally get to have your orgasm, it’s the most intense yet satisfying feeling in the world.
Enzo Berkshire:
Broken was the only word to describe Enzo when he was suffering from not being able to cum due to having a cock ring on. You used it for punishing him sometimes, for unintentionally flirting with other girls, but also just for fun and to spice up your bedroom activities. It vibrated his inflated cock, but also restricted it from shooting out his sweet release. The entire room would be filled with Enzo’s variations of noises, begging and whines. “How much longer”, he keeps asking while making filthy sounds and “I can’t keep it in anymore please” he’d always plea. Enzo would also always come close to tears, though he definitely enjoyed the sinful mix of pleasure and pain too. There were also several intensity settings on the useful cock ring and any time he’d swear, you put it higher. He was entirely under your control, and anything he did would result in his cock just suffering longer from the prolonged torture. You watched him squirm in his bed, completely naked, and even humping the bed at times to get some sort of friction, but that never ended well as you would set the vibrations even higher. His cock was so close to coming, yet only measly drops of precum came out. It was truly a sight.
Draco Malfoy:
Combined with public factors, orgasm denial is your favorite way of watching your boyfriend struggle to keep it together. Otherwise everyone would find out what an obedient boy he was for you, totally unlike the usual bad boy persona he puts on. When all your friends hang out around the common room couch, near the fireplace, a blanket always covers you two. It’s normal, since everyone shares a blanket with either a friend or partner. The twist comes when you slyly slide your hands all the way down to his crotch and rub him through his pyjama pants first. Draco always inhales sharply, knowing he’ll have to be on his best behavior. He shifts all the time, trying to secretly hump himself on the palm of your hand, acting like a stupid fuck toy. So, to tell him to cut it out, you lightly squeeze his length, sending him a warning sign. He should remember that you were the one in control. When you decide he deserves it, you start massaging his cock, pumping it ever so slowly and circling your thumb over his crown. As soon as you hear the grunts, signaling that he can’t keep it in any longer, you slide your hands out of his pants again and act as you were. Draco’s own pleasure had to wait until you were in private, until then he’d quietly whine “Please let me cum, pleasee”/“I swear I’ll do anything you want”
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mrsriddlenott · 22 days ago
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okay I just need pussydrunk mattheo 🥵
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It is honestly embarrassing how long this has been in my drafts unfinished(literally a few days over a year🤦‍♀️) I have been awol for so long but I have been GOIN through it y’all. I think I can finally at least try and actually come back to this blog. I love writing so much and I hate when it just isn’t fun anymore. And when I saw this I actually got excited to finish it so let’s see how it goes. Please correct mistakes and give feedback
Warnings: suggestive content but not actually full smut, public oral(f!receiving), heavy petting, play argument/kinda roleplay, some teasing.
{masterlist}
~Needy~
To plenty of people having a needy boyfriend would be the end of the world. But when that boyfriend is Mattheo Riddle, who seems to have an unnaturally high labido and stamina, it’s more of a pro rather than a con.
But what comes with needy is clingy. Mattheo just needs his hands on you whenever he can. You weren’t complaining but he certainly was. There was just too much time out of the day that he couldn’t touch you. So me made sure to cut thay time down as much as he could.
“Come oooon Baby” Mattheo groaned as he tugged you towards an empty, shadow filled corridor, “Just think about it, how many days a week do we have Potions, and how many weeks are in a term, how many terms in a school year….we can miss one hour of Potions Baby it’ll be fine. Plus you’re the smartest, prettiest, hottest person at this school you’ve got options for you future.”
“Um first of all,” You start, crossing your arms across your chest, poking your hip out to make Mattheo groan out loud as he restrains himself from touching you, “This will be the fourth time we missed Potions so far this term, and second of all who said I was worried for my future, nuh uh Baby I’m worried about yours.”
“Merlin you’re sexy when you’re being all bossy”Mattheo sighs, stepping closer to you and fanning your face with his breath, “I don’t care about my future as long as you’re in it, I need to keep you excited don’t I Princess?” He laughs out as he watches your resolve melt away, moving his hand up to grip your waste.
“That’s no fair.” You pout, desperately trying to hold a straight face as you continue, “You know you’re not allowed to call me Princess in an argument, you always win with that.” Mattheo sighs dramatically and steps even closer to you, breathing your air as he holds your hip tightly, tugging you into him aggressively.
“I’m so sorry baby, please forgive me,” He begs dramatically, smiling before dipping his head into the crook beside your shoulder to trace small pecks across your collarbone, forcing a moan to slip past your lips despite your pretend protests.
“How could I ever forgive you for such a lapse Mattheo,” you smile at how fast he halts his mouths assault of your collarbone giving you time to slip your fingers into his raven curls, giving them a tug to force his eyes up to yours, “You know, I can think of something you can do to earn my forgiveness.”
“What?” He rasps out, his breath caught in his chest at the feeling of your hand in his hair and the other slowly slipping down his chest at an agonizing pace, “What can I do to make you feel better Baby, I’ll do anything for you, you know that.” His voice his breathy and desperate, sending heat down your abdomen as your thighs squeeze together subconsciously. At the gentle shove to his shoulder, Mattheo knew exactly what you wanted, smirking as you looked down to him where he leant into you with those pretend innocent eyes. Mattheo fell to his knees immediately, his hands tracing their way under your skirt while his eyes stay on yours.
“Is this what you’re asking for…Princess?” Mattheo asks, smirking as he gains dominance from below you, “You want me to make you feel good?….But Baby what about Potions, we-we can’t miss class i-it’s impo-“ You cut off his teasing with a tug to his hair and small sigh at the feeling of his hand ghosting across your underwear. Mattheo groans, his eyes falling into the back of his head as your fingers tighten in his hair.
“Okay okay, I’ve got you Princess.” He laughs breathlessly as his fingers tug your underwear down your legs, allowing you to step out of them before he shoves them in his pocket with a wink. In a flash Mattheo has his lips on you, his head vanishing under your skirt, his hand trailing upward to squeeze at your chest through your button up, the other gripping your thigh to give you support as you begin to wobble.
“Oh fuck Mattheo,” You moan loudly before clamping your hand over your mouth, almost forgetting your very public location at the feeling of Mattheo’s tongue meticulously swirling around your clit. His chuckle from below almost pisses you off enough to fight for dominance but as though to wipe your mind of it, Mattheo flattens his tongue and leaves a strip up your heat, making you whimper into your hand and bite your skin to prevent getting caught.
You shake as Mattheo’s fingernails dig into the skin of your thigh while it wobbles, unsteady as you begin to lose balance at the fast pace of Mattheo’s tongue, “Fuck Baby, can you stand or do I need to hold you?” He chuckles against you at your whine of protest, not wanting him to stop even for a second. Mattheo quickly tugs your thigh over his shoulder, allowing him to gain more access, speeding up his actions, moaning at your taste and the thought of you coming on his face as you depend on him to hold you steady. Your head falls back against the stone wall, your eyes rolling backward as your hand falls to his shoulders for balance not caring anymore about your volume. Your little whimpers and squeaks drive him insane below you, he knows your close, he can feel it.
Without warning Mattheo shifts lower, shoving his tongue into you, lowering his hand from your chest in a flash and using his thumb to stimulate your clit as his tongue moves in and out of you, matching his own pace and groaning as he feels your legs begin to shake for him. Your moans become screams as you release on his tongue, falling into his hold while he rises to look at your post-orgasm face he loves so much.
“Good thing we did this during class, someone might have heard otherwise.” Mattheo says simply with a laugh as you weakly smack at his broad shoulder.
~~~~
Pretty short compared to others I have but I just really wanted to start posting again. I’m probably gonna be cleaning out my drafts and trying to get them out even old ones ppl probably aren’t waiting on anymore to try and get back into a groove on here.
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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 10 months ago
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YOU’RE AN ANGEL, I’M A DOG ; SATORU GOJO
synopsis; an upcoming exam has been stressing you out, and satoru’s pleas for you to take care of yourself fall on deaf ears. he takes matters into his own hands.
word count; 4.3k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, yan!gojo, as far as yanderes go he’s very mild i think (im sensitive u can trust me!!), mentions of blood, implied murder (not depicted!!), he threatens your professor w a knife lol, surprisingly fluffy??, gojo is soooo lovesick & smitten, he just wants his baby to live a happy life :( is that so wrong :((, also your parents love him <33 and he calls you honey <333 ideal man.
a/n; i blacked out & when i woke up this was in my drafts… mysterious. @kissxcore here u go alexis <33 one very smitten morally gray yan!gojo just for u!! i completely lost the plot halfway through but i had a lot of fun writing this!! :33 i don’t dabble in yan content at all so it was a fun lil challenge hehe, i hope it ended up . Somewhat .. decent…
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satoru thinks you deserve everything good.
”haah…”
— the sigh spills into the air, like a dot of ink on paper, dripping with exhaustion; a palpable fatigue that has his heart clenching beneath his ribs.
just as he feared, you’re here. again. seated on the couch, in the living room, legs crossed and framed by flimsy strings of moonlight; illuminated only by the dim light of the laptop in front of you. carding through your hair, blinking sluggishly.
another sigh. deep, exasperated, from satoru this time. he keeps a single hand on his hip, brows furrowed in soft disappointment. 
”honey… what do you think you’re doing?”
you jolt, the sudden sound breaking you out of whatever trance you were previously in. when your gaze flits to his, craning your head to see him rest against the wall leading up to your bedroom, he thinks you look a little like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
it makes him smile. despite his disapproval.
”ah — satoru! it’s… um.” a moment passes. he can practically see the gears of your mind turning, searching for a good excuse. ”… not what it looks like?”
he clicks his tongue. ”nice try.”
then he’s walking towards you, in long strides, gliding across the room like a butterfly in search of nectar. from the sweetest flower there ever was.
even when said flower is still awake, past midnight, pulling an all-nighter despite his frequent advice not to. his very frequent, very thoughtful advice not to strain yourself until you just about pass out.
but you just won’t listen.
”’m disappointed in you, baby,” he huffs, just playful enough to ward off any genuine feelings of distress. he could never truly be disappointed in his baby. ”what did we say about studying this late, hm?”
a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips. satoru is standing in front of you, hands on his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow as you squirm. lighthearted, yes, but genuine. it makes you feel a little guilty.
”… sorry,” you breathe, closing the lid of your laptop. knowing he won’t let you stay up any longer. with the loss of light, your face becomes shrouded in darkness. ”just can’t sleep when i’m so stressed.”
at that, satoru makes a tiny noise — something worried, a little sad, from the base of his throat. a soft frown finds its way onto his lips, and he blinks the sleep away from his senses. plopping down beside you.
”i know. i’m not trying to lecture you,” he croons, reaching out to cradle the apple of your cheek. you melt into him like molten honey, easy and sweet. ”just worried. know you’re stressed.”
and he does. he does know — it’s all he’s been able to think about, these past few weeks. to his dismay, he’s even begun to grow used to this sight, used to finding you in the midst of working yourself to exhaustion. fighting the urge to sleep, slumped over your desk, or cooped up on the couch. staring into your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe.
time and time again, he’s told you to take care of yourself. tried to coax you into relaxing, rubbing your sore shoulders and kissing the puffy skin beneath your eyes. but this exam is important — you’ve told him as much, more times than he can count. he doesn’t doubt that you’re right. 
of course you’d be stressed. he gets it.
still, though.
”but you know it’s not good, yeah? that it’ll just burn you out?” his thumb goes to smooth over the dark crescents beneath your eyes, gentle as a feather. ”we don’t want that, do we?”
you bite your lip. trapping it between your teeth. he knows you know. ”… yeah,” you admit, a flimsy little sigh on your tongue. ”it just feels easier to do this at night. don’t know why.”
”my little night owl.”
that makes you smile, a little, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. he curls an arm around your waist, and drags you into his lap; gentle, always gentle, like all that exists under your skin is made of porcelain. like the lines of your face form a string of words, a label of fragile: handle with care. he always does.
with his heartbeat by your ear, his warmth melting into yours, it’s easier to speak. a pressure on your chest that fades away. ”i’ll try not to do it again,” you murmur, biting back a soft yawn. nuzzling into his neck. ”promise. don’t wanna worry you…”
satoru softens. 
(always so good to him.)
”it’s fine, honey. i understand.” he smiles, smoothing down your spine, counting the bumps of vertebra that slide along his palm. ”don’t worry that pretty little head of yours over me, alright?”
in return for his comfort, you wriggle away, lifting your head to give him a smile. one of your many smiles, each one fervently cherished by him; the one you’re wearing now is tired, a soft curl of your lips, the kind that makes him want to lull you to sleep. just the sight alone makes the anxiety in his veins feel like a worthy investment.
he doesn’t tell you anything that could cause that joy to diminish. doesn’t tell you that he can’t sleep without you, that he can barely breathe knowing you’re this stressed all time. doesn’t tell you that he jolted awake with a sinking feeling of dread, a gaping pit in his stomach when he didn’t immediately feel the warmth of your skin against his. doesn’t tell you that he always, always assumes the worst.
satoru doesn’t tell you these things. it’s a safety measure, an act of love. a bundle of unvoiced syllables, woven into white lies, silky and sweet. tailor-made to put your aching mind at ease. 
satoru thinks you deserve everything good.
it’s a theory, of sorts, a train of thought. a hypothesis made manifest. after many years of pondering, he’s arrived at the following conclusion; you are all that’s good. therefore, it only follows that you deserve everything that’s good, all of it and more. satoru believes you deserve every single thing your little heart desires — and he’s determined to give it to you.
so he’s been worried.
it’s not that he doesn’t trust you. he knows you’ll ace the exam, knows you’ll do your very best, knows you’ll make him proud. you always do. you aren’t the problem, no, never.
he just doesn’t trust your professor. 
that unfair, stuck-up, incompetent professor who’d fail his students just for being a couple minutes late, who curates his exams to be as convoluted as humanly possible. you and your friends are starting to suspect he just likes berating people for a living. satoru knows it all, he’s heard it all, of course he has. satoru pays attention to everything, when it comes to you. he knows all about your professor, the man who’s been making your studies pure hell for the past semester.
it makes his blood boil. steady, ruminating, hot and heavy in his veins. a rivulet of lava.
(it was only a matter of time.)
satoru is a teacher too; he knows that type. one that has no business being a teacher, in the first place, one no student deserves to be subjected to. he’s met more of them in his career than he could even begin to count. the thought of one of his own students being at the mercy of someone so incompetent makes his skin itch.
and the thought of you, seated on the couch, crying and sniffling when he comes home because none of the exam questions made enough sense for you to even try —
it makes satoru want to claw his skin off.
it makes that tiny, tiny cavern in his heart extend, widen, like a maw, swallowing up his liver and lungs and sense of morality. an emptiness begging to be filled. 
there’s only one way to satiate it.
so he plants a wet kiss on your forehead, ruffles your hair, tucks you into bed and waits until you fall asleep. deep and heavy, a slumber you won’t wake up from anytime soon. he presses his lips to your forehead one more time — for good measure.
then he grabs his coat and slips outside.
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the moon is visible through the window.
a thin crescent, nailed next to the dim stars, leaking a dream-like fluorescent shine; illuminating the office, so quiet he can hear those erratic breaths spill out, one by one. a heavy, heavy silence, thick enough to spread like butter over toast. 
(ah, that’s right — he forgot to buy the butter you asked for this morning. no wonder he feels so out of sorts. he’ll have to grab it on his way back.)
”who… w — what are — ?”
satoru stays silent. lips pursed, eyes keen, burning into the back of the man in front of him. close, almost chest to back, enough to have him scowling in displeasure. 
just being in his presence makes satoru feel a little sick. 
he keeps the blade pressed right beneath his adam’s apple, a silver glimmer in an office painted blue and gray. not enough to sink into his skin, but enough to have his heartbeat hammering, enough that satoru can practically feel those rapid flutters of life. brushing against his gloved hand.
he gets straight to the point. voice muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, low enough that it’s barely even audible. he’s careful, about this kind of thing. there’s a delicacy to the ill intent, something he’d be a little enamored with if it weren’t for the compass stuffed into his ribs — the compass that tells him this is wrong.
he just can’t bring himself to care.
”the upcoming exam.” his voice sends a shiver down the man’s spine. satoru can feel it. ”don’t fail a single student.”
silence. pure silence, suffocating them, tangling itself into the air. satoru can practically taste it — fear, familiar, that pang of panic. a ticking time-bomb. the knife stays pressed against warm skin, pushing, sinking, just a little, a drop of red against his pale throat. 
it’s enough to get your professor to make a little noise, one that vaguely resembles a whine. like that of a small animal, rolling over on its belly, eager to play dead. no word is spoken in reply, but he nods, just barely, a nervous tremble of his head.
satoru hums, approving. ”good.” he doesn’t loosen his grip. ”there’s a particular student i’m worried about. marked them down in the catalogue... i’m counting on you.”
another noise. a grunt of affirmation, a silent plea — satoru allows that fear to seep into his own bones, just a little, just to get a taste of it. cold on his tongue. he wonders if this is what helplessness feels like.
then he takes a step back. slow, tentative, dragging the knife with him. not before parting his lips once more. ”don’t turn around,” he warns. ”i’ll be back if there are any complications. this’ll be our little secret, hm?”
the man in front of him doesn’t say a thing. frozen in fear, paralyzed, not moving an inch. a fly trapped in his web. it’s a relief.
before he exits the room, satoru puts the final nail in the coffin. just in case. ”i happen to know what school your daughter goes to.” he waits for a flinch, and it comes almost instantly. like clockwork. “remember that.”
it’s an empty threat. your professor doesn’t know that, though. he doesn’t know that satoru knows his daughter, that he walks past her preschool almost every morning on his way to work. that she waves to him whenever he passes by, and that he makes it a point to always wave back. a little troublemaker; the rowdiest of utahime’s preschoolers. she has a bubbly laugh, and just lost one of her milk teeth. she was giddy when she showed him, a bout of giggles spilling from her lips as he cooed and ruffled her hair. 
he wouldn’t lay a finger on her. 
but your professor doesn’t know that, hasn’t got a single clue, and satoru delights in the fear that must be running through his veins. down his spine, crawling into every narrow of his skeleton, making a home for itself that he’ll never quite be able to root out.
a gulp. satoru hears it, in the quiet of nightfall, just before he shuts the door behind him. good.
the rest of the evening is a blur. satoru gets home, relieved to find you still asleep, and tucks you into his chest. makes a mental reminder to order your favorite take out tomorrow; a little reward for your hard work.
finally, he can sleep easy. knowing you’ll get what you deserve. 
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three weeks later, satoru places his hand on the familiar doorknob in front of him, dragging his weight behind him. blinking sluggishly. 
there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, weighing him down — like an anchor tied to his liver. a compass, tucked between his fourth and fifth rib, one that’ll always stay lodged right there. he’s learned to grow used to it, a natural consequence, a sign that his humanity is still intact. 
that doesn’t make it any less bothersome, though.
(ridding the world of a pest shouldn’t make him feel dirty. especially when he felt nothing but contempt for the pest in question, for the way he whistled as you walked by, the words he spewed before satoru met his eye. vile. putrid. why should he feel guilty for wiping a stain off the pavement?
it does make him feel dirty, though. a sinking feeling in his chest.)
there’s nothing to be done about it. satoru swallows the unpleasant taste on his tongue, and drags the door open, closing it behind him with a softness he reserves for you alone.
and there you are.
on the couch, farther away, already looking his way — lips instantly curling up into what he knows will be a smile. this time, it’s laced with excitement. one of his personal favorites. his gaze devours the joy in your features, the glimpse he gets of your teeth, that familiar crinkle of your eyes. 
you’re smiling. at him. you smile and his world wakes up, it’s dyed in different shades of blue, it’s brimming with life and love and something too good not to kill for. you smile and everything is right, good, worth it. you smile and it's as if the blood has been washed off his hands.
suddenly, all is well again. satoru exhales a blissful little breath.
“‘m home, honey,” he grins, a light pink dusting his cheeks, hanging his coat up before turning to face you. arms wide open. “did you miss me?”
his heartbeat stutters when you practically engulf him, all giddy giggles and that perfect smile, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “mhm,” is what you chirp, pressing kisses down his collarbone, and he has to bite down on his lip to stop the shivers trailing down his spine. he tastes iron, but laps it up with a coo. sickly-sweet.
“missed you too, precious,” he purrs. “sorry i was gone for so long — had to take care of something.” 
he cups the back of your skull with his palm, large and crafted just to hold you, and marvels at how much you trust him. how you’re melting into his chest, fitting into every crevice of his heart. he wants to keep you there forever. forever and ever, always within reach, always close enough to touch. 
but he also wants you to be happy. he wants to see you run away, wherever the wind takes you, if only so he’ll get to feel you jump into his arms again, when you’ve had your fill of the world. when you come home to him, where you both belong.
satoru would never cage you. never, never, never. he wants you to enjoy your life — confining you wouldn’t do any good, would only stifle that pretty smile he loves so dearly. he wants your world to be large, brimming with life, blooming with fervor, wants the air to be clear enough for your beautiful lungs. he couldn’t build a world for you, here, in this apartment. no matter how big or luxurious. 
so his only option is to bend the world into a kinder shape — twist and mold until it forms a path good enough for you to follow.
(it’s worth it, he knows, he’ll always know. it’s worth it to see that smile.)
“is that a new coat?” you ask, naive and innocent, and it breaks him out of his thoughts, attention wired to the lilt of your voice.
“yeah.” it’s stylish, expensive, a nice shade of black. he had to throw the last one away. “looks nice, right? i’ll get you the same one, pretty.”
“you don’t have to, toru!” you hurriedly exclaim, knowing he’ll jump at the opportunity to spoil you. “i like the one i have now!”
satoru pouts. a soft huff, right by your ear. “you don’t wanna wear matching coats?” he feigns sadness, scratching softly at your scalp, drinking up the little purrs that bubble up in your throat. 
and you giggle. you giggle and all he can think is worth it, worth it, worth it. a stained coat or two means nothing. the blood on his hands is just insurance. 
“well, when you put it like that…” you shift a little, curling your arms around his neck, breathing him in. he wonders if you can smell the cleaning detergent. “i guess i wouldn’t mind a new coat.”
and he grins. “right? want me to buy you new shoes while i’m at it? some jewelry?” he peppers kisses down your neck, amusement laced in his voice. “the whole store?”
again, those giggles. again and again. he laps them up like fine wine. “okay, that’s too much.”
“but you deserve it!” he whines, sickeningly sweet. sick to his stomach with love. “been working so hard, my angel.”
and, suddenly — you light up. his little firefly. brightening, inhaling a giddy breath. pulling away, a little, and he does his best to bite back the frown on his face. you’re practically beaming, sunshine personified, eyes glittering with giddy joy.
“right! i almost forgot!” 
then you’re skipping away, happily, to retrieve your phone. and he knows what you’re going to show him, but still feigns surprise when he sees the score on your exam, that perfect 100 on the screen. still makes an expression of shock that he knows will get you to laugh, still picks you up and spins you around and tells you how proud he is.
he almost, almost feels bad, seeing you smile so wide; at what you assume to be the fruits of your own labour. almost feels ashamed, knowing that perfect 100 wouldn’t exist without the knife at your professor’s throat.
but, then again, this is how it should be. those numbers are the fruits of your own labour, because satoru is a part of you. and you deserve it, deserve it more than anyone — he knows you would have gotten it, even without his help, if your professor was competent enough to see your brilliance. 
satoru smiles. he is proud of you. and this is exactly how it should be. he’s just bending the world into its rightful shape, cutting strings from a wrongly woven web, righting the wrongs of the people around you.
you, you, you. the only thing that exists.
all of him is for you.
”i knew you could do it. never doubted you for a second, baby,” he smiles, so wide his cheeks hurt, and you return it with a kiss to his jaw. 
”thank you. i’m just so relieved,” you exhale a breath, heavy, and it’s like he can practically see the stress melting from your shoulders and eyes. worth it, worth it, worth it. ”gosh. i’m gonna sleep like the dead tonight.”
”as you should,” satoru chirps, pinching your side. softly, brimming with fondness. ”but before that, we’re gonna celebrate. all day. and tomorrow too!”
another smile coaxed from your lips; this time, it’s a little bit shy. bashful, at the praise, his endless excitement. so precious he wants to kiss you breathless. give you all the air in his lungs.
so precious that he forgets about everything else. 
this is what you always do to him; wrap him up in a blanket of your love, cloud his veins with a nectar so sweet he takes the leap into your arms without a second thought. a foolish, lovesick butterfly, sticking to a single rose; dripping with honey, overflowing. the butterfly is too drunk on love to care. 
you’re his flower, his joy, the most useful form of anesthesia. with you in his veins, on his mind, your lips on his jaw — satoru can pretend that his hands are clean. that they always have been.
it all slips from his mind. your professor, the creep who catcalled you yesterday, that one classmate you’ve been complaining about recently. he forgets that they even exists, and satoru thinks that must be what love is: something that narrows your world down until you can make a home out of it. 
(something worth holding onto, no matter the cost.)
as always, it’s your voice that snaps him out of the trance he’s in. turning around at the sound of your call, the orpheus to your eurydice, too in love to save you from himself. you’re both getting ready to head out, dressing up for a well-deserved date. 
satoru feels himself smile. he does the dirty work, and you get to reap the rewards. heaven on earth.
“oh, by the way! would you want to have dinner with my parents tomorrow?” you meet his absent gaze with a tilt of your head. “they’ve been asking about you again. it’s such a headache, seriously.”
satoru giggles, barely containing how delighted he is. raising a playful brow. “oh? grumpy that you aren’t the favorite child anymore, hm?”
“okay, first of all —“ you stifle a giggle, pulling a drawer open, rummaging through it. freshly washed clothes. he washes most of your things. “you aren’t their child. and second of all —“
“— yet.”
a pause. 
satoru watches your gaze flick over to him, then back to the drawer, collecting yourself. a cute flush to your cheeks. “… whatever.” you clear your throat. “second of all — i don’t like how much they like you. what kinda spell did you put them under? it’s always satoru this, satoru that!”
a huff fills the air, and you mutter something that sounds a little like mocking, an obnoxiously imitated where’s satoru? that makes him chuckle into his fist. 
he shrugs. “i’m just a natural charmer, y’know? and, for the record; i would love to have dinner with them.” he sends you a wink, playful, and you roll your eyes. “are you joining us?”
a bout of laughter pushes past your lips, and satoru thinks he could die happy — just soaking up the joy that spills from out your throat. he wishes he could live in it, paint your house in it, wear it. he wants your joy to be all he ever feels. he feels sick at the idea of ever being out of earshot for it.
“yes, i’m joining you.” your scoff is dripping with humour. ”i’d hate to be the fourth wheel, but it is what it is.”
satoru stifles a grin. ”lucky me. three beauties all to myself,” he drawls, a seductive lilt to his voice, just to hear that little noise you always make with the back of your throat. vaguely disgusted.
”you’re so gross.”
a coo. like the buzzing of a bee. ”don’t be jealous, honey. know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” satoru smiles — more sincere than you’ll ever know. ”could never love anyone else.”
”so my parents are in second place?” you quirk a brow, amusement lacing your words, and he clicks his tongue. 
”well, they made you. i’d have to be a fool not to worship artists of such caliber.” 
”charmer.”
”yours.” the word is a knife at his throat, a stain on his coat, a love so heavy it’ll burn him alive. ”only yours.”
and again, you smile. all he can think is that you deserve everything, everything he could ever give you. it’s all he can think as you go about your day, as he leads you outside, as he watches that flicker of joy dance inside your iris. as he watches you walk wherever your heart takes you.
the thought remains when you return home, when you wrap yourselves up in blankets and he throws a leg over your waist and you curl an arm around his ribcage. it’s all he can think. 
satoru was born to be of service — to someone, to the world, to something or another. he was born to carry a weight on his back, so why not bear the weight of your burdens?
all he wants is to protect you. all he’ll ever need is that smile on your face. he was always bound to be just this: a dog at your heels, a halo around your head, the watchful eye keeping you safe from everything rotten in this world. he’s the butterfly, the spider, the web itself. and he’ll never let you be tangled up in it.
he was born to be of service to you. so service you he will, until it all comes back to bite him.
“satoruuu — stop stealing the blanket!”
he prays it never will.
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ivyyisbored22 · 4 months ago
Text
𝐑𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐧—𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
A Stray Kids one shot
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Synopsis: Chan came back to Australia for his vacation and he's spending all his time with you. After a cute date he planned at the lake, the two of you went to his place.
Warning: Smut🔞 Explicit content. Oral (both f & m receiving), doggy, fingering [Chan makes the reader touch herself],unprotected sex, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, size kink(?), name calling (slut) and pet names (baby, sweetheart).
Minors do not interact!!!
Note: This my second Chan smut draft I wrote and published on Wattpad 2 months ago. (It didn't do well xD), so I rewrote it and added a few more things.
(I require a tank of holy water after this LMFAO)
If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.
ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.
Word count: 4.7k
𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!
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Chan was back home to Australia for his vacation and ever since he returned, he has been spending a lot of time with you, his long distant girlfriend.
The two of you always caught up over Facetimes and calls, but having him back home feels so good for both you and him. Chan missed you so much that he wanted to make up for all the lost time.
From early morning walks along the beach to late-night drives under the starry sky, every moment felt like a dream come true. You both explored your favourite spots, revisiting old memories and creating new ones. There was something magical about being physically together, holding hands, and sharing laughter without a screen in between.
After the best date ever, watching the sunset while he played the guitar for you alongside the lake, the spot where the two of you had your first date, Chan took you back to his place to spend the night with him.
Which of course you agreed.
The two of you binged horror K-Dramas the whole time but mostly just Chan stealing moments when a zombie was chasing a group of students or when it jumped on the screen. You missed half of the best parts because Chan wouldn't stop kissing you or putting his hand up your T-shirt, cupping your boobs.
You were more than thankful that his parents were out of town for 2 days. If they catch the two of you in their living room, seeing their son putting his hand up his girlfriend's shirt without a worry in the world, you'd bury yourself alive 6 feet below the ground.
And it's not like you haven't met Chan's parents before. Back when you started first dating and Chan introduced you to his mom and dad, they were thrilled. They loved you so much and treated you like their own daughter. Daughter in law soon according to Chan's dad. He never fails to keep saying that, it makes your cheeks flush everytime.
The two of you were in Chan's living room, the latest horror K-Drama playing on the TV. Your eyes were fully paying attention on the screen, but Chan wasn't interested at all. What was going on in his head was to kiss and make out with you. If possible to just fuck you right here on the couch while the K-Drama played.
But that will be a bad idea since his sister or brother could walk through the front door at any moment.
"Why do you like to horror stuff if the tiniest thing scares the hell out of you?" Chan asked with his brows furrowed as you flinched hard when monster came out of no where.
"It's not for the enjoyment, it's for the adrenaline rush" You cupped his cheeks with both your hands making him pout causing a burst of laughter to escape from your lips.
You should do that more often.
"I don't get what goes in your mind love. But as long as you are happy" He scooped his hand around your waist, his hand inside your shirt, pulling you closer, burying his face in your neck and shoulder.
You have to admit, you loved the way he's clingy with you more than the K-Drama playing on the TV or any damn thing in the world.
I mean how could you not?
"What do you want Channie?" You cooed. Of course you know what he wants but seeing him beg for your attention made you feel so satisfied.
"Baby..." Chan hummed in your neck that caused you giggle, it was one of your tickles spots.
Chan kissed and sucked on your neck in response, it caused you to inhale a long breath. Your fingers ran through his hair as he continued kissing your neck, his grip slowly tightening on your waist, stroking his thumb on your skin.
You finally gave in for what he's been trying since the time I came to his place, switching off the TV and turning your head towards him. Chan grinned mischievously, planting his lips on yours with a soft, sweet kiss, tilting your head demanding more access, swiping his tongue over the seam of your lips.
You slowly got up and sat on his lap as you kissed, straddling him, you could feel a buldge beneath you.
"FYI, you're straddling me. Of course I'm hard" Chan taunted, but his voice remained soft. You chuckled as you palmed his cock through his shorts. He hummed in approval.
"You naughty boy," You said pulling away, Chan was hard already and it send rush of pride through you seeing how much he desires you.
You continued palming him and softly pressing, going closer to his face and planting a series of pecks on his lips.
"Can we go to your bedroom pretty please?" You asked cutely and Chan couldn't help but grin mischievously.
He wrapped your legs around his waist and rose from the couch, carrying you upstairs to his bedroom. His mouth was on yours as he climbed up the stairs, not breaking it till he reached the door to his room. He put you down, the two of you walked inside and he flicked on the light switch.
Just like how it always looked, a full sized bed stood in the middle of the room, with its grey sheets neatly tucked in. A lone nightstand with clean lines sat beside it, holding only a minimalist lamp. His sliding door wardrobe stood at the corner of the room, with another closed door leading to an attached bathroom, the desk occupied nothing but his familiar grey laptop and a pair of high quality headphones.
Chan dimmed the lights of his room with a remote controller, the already dark room thanks to his grey bed and furniture became more darker, as shadows danced across the walls like silent phantoms. With the heavily dim lights and the moonlight shining through his windows, the ambience felt more even more intimate.
Not that you didn't like it when he fills you up.
Fluffy moments with Chan like little dates and sharing selfies through texting were polar opposite compared to when Chan was in the bedroom. To his friends and his parents you're his loving girlfriend but when you were alone, you were his fuck doll.
Locking the door, he stepped towards you slowly and gracefully like a majestic wolf, pulling his black T-shirt over his head with one hand and throwing it at his chair, revealing his defined body.
Broad shoulders, muscled chest, powerful biceps and chiseled abs any man could envy. The faint sheen of sweat glistened, accentuating the contours.
You stood where you were without making a move, moisture flooding between your legs, staining you underwear as he got closer. How could his bare chest make you so wet already?
Chan was standing just an inch or two in front of you, your chest rose and fell, when you looked at him, his eyes were already on you, a lethal smirk played across his face with his head tilting to the side. Without a warning he traced his hand over you breasts, goosebumps spread across your body in a frantic rush as you shivered against his touch.
You were crazily turned on now.
He closed his hand over your neck, not tight enough to choke but enough to turn you on even more. His eyes were burning, a wild beast was lying within them, he did the triangle look before crushing his mouth onto yours. Your teeth crashed with your tongues devouring, desiring each other.
He squeezed your ass making a moan escaped from your mouth to his, you held onto his biceps pulling him closer, needing him. Wanting him.
Chan pulled apart, his hand letting go of your neck and taking one step back,
"Off," He comanded gesturing at your shirt and pants. Without protesting, you removed your clothes.
You wearing nothing but your lace bra and panties, Chan was in his black shorts, you glanced at his cock huge and hard underneath the fabric, your face flushed in heat.
Chan was a huggable teddy bear when he wore his usual black hoodie and shorts, but underneath those said hoodie and shorts was a buff, muscular body, sculpted by the Gods themselves. You could taste the heat of his skin radiating off his bare torso as he stood towering you.
Chan pinched your nipple through your lace bra, with his other hand he unclasped it, revealing your chest to his lustful eyes. He cupped a breast, rolling the hardening nipple between his thumb and forefinger, your head fell back, teeth digging your lower lip and your whimpers already started filling the air.
You hated yet loved it when he teased before you both started.
Twisting the lace band of the panties with one finger and sliding it down, Chan circled his thumb over your clit and thrusted his middle finger through your drenched folds, you jerked and hissed as your core clenched.
"You are so wet for me sweetheart"
"Please" You begged shamelessly.
This wasn't enough. You wanted more.
"You are so needy my love" Chan chuckled as he inserted another finger inside you.
"Chan, I swear" Your nails scarred his biceps.
"Don't worry baby, I'll make you feel really good. But since you kept rejecting me back in the living room, you'll get my cock later"
Was the last thing he said before he yanked out his fingers and licked away your juices moaning at the pleasure of tasting it.
"On your knees." He commanded and you sank on the floor before you could respond.
"Touch yourself" Chan ordered. Your eyes widened at him almost popping out of your sockets, but he knows what he said.
"What?" You whispered, your voice was barely audible. All the nights when you fingered yourself and used toys thinking of Chan while you stayed in Australia and he was in South Korea crashed in your head.
"You heard me. Touch yourself. I want to see what you've been doing when I was away" Chan's voice was coated with dominance, thick and rough as a cocky smirk spread across his face.
A deep blush bloomed on your cheeks, but you knew better than to decline him. You were too turned on and needed his cock so badly, if this is what's going to make you get it, then you'd oblige him.
Without another word coming out of you, you caressed your breasts, pinching and squeezing your nipples before one hand went down you stomach and slid between your legs.
Soon, you were whimpering with pleasure, circling your clit and fingered yourself as Chan watched you with his tongue poking against the inside of his cheek.
He was controlling himself, as much as he wanted to rub his rock hard cock at the sight in front of him. It was one second away from making a hole and breaking free from his shorts.
Chan got reminded on how he stoked and rubbed himself when he missed you, he couldn't wait to feel your needy pussy and mouth around his cock.
"This is what you've been doing hmm?" He asked silkily. "You dirty slut. Thinking of me while you finger fucked yourself?"
You whimpered as your fingers worked faster at his filthy words, kneeling on the floor and your thighs trembled. "Y-yes" You said. Your mouth hung open and breaths turning slow.
Chan stepped towards you kneeling at him, grasping your chin and making you meet his gaze. You looked up at him who was looking at you as if he wanted to eat and fuck the braincells out of you.
"My girl has missed me so much hasn't she?" Your chin was still under his grip, Chan pulled his shorts and boxers down, freeing himself from the walls of the fabric, his huge, long hard cock sprung out, hitting your cheek.
You moaned, needing him. He was right here, there was no need for you to use your fingers, but Chan was too much of a tease, he will drag this night out as long as wants.
He grazed the tip on your lips, you looked up at him with a wide smirk playing across you face as you immediately stacked your other hand on his impressive shaft and swirled your tongue around the pre cum leaking head. You lapped them away as you began stoking his cock slowly at the same time pumping in and out of your cunt.
It felt like a literal scene out of a porn video.
Now Chan was the one who groaned, his head fell back biting the bottom lip when you hadn't even taken him in yet and you liked it when you took control at least for a few seconds.
One more languid swirl around the tip, a few strokes on his shaft and your thumb on the tip, you took him in slowly. You started bobbing your head up and down, licking and sucking, pressing your tongue on the underside of his cock and adjusting to his length.
Chan's hand fisted your hair as his cock went much deeper down hitting the back of your throat causing you to choke. Your eyes watered as your gags kicked in, drool leaking from the corners of your mouth but you didn't stop. Your core was aching, taking Chan down your throat while you whimpered and worked on yourself.
"Fuck yes baby. Keep sucking my cock like a good girl" He growled, his voice was thick and heavy like the rumble of distant thunder.
Chan's hand fisted around your hair, guiding you up and down, flesh against flesh, he thrusted his veiny cock in and you sucked him out more in a sensual rhythm, the wet sloppy sounds of your blowjob filling the air of his room.
It was almost like Chan could sense you were about to come, but tonight he wanted all your orgasms to belong to him. He yanked his cock out of your mouth causing you to fall back on your butt, your hand still remained in your dripping cunt.
"You won't come until I say so," He said roughly and made you yank your hand out of you.
You groaned at the ruined orgasm but no matter how much your hands and toys have tried, they could never make you come the way Chan does.
You stood up on your knees again and took his cock back in, before he could respond, Chan's his head fell back, fingers snaking your hair. You stroked the skin above his dick, feeling the regrowing hair and sucked him out till you couldn't breath or see as tears gushed up your eyes.
Your hot mouth was wrapped around his velvet length, your jaw began aching but you were determined to feel every last inch of him.
"Oh yeah...Oh yeah baby"
With Chan's harsh breaths and your gurgles, Chan shooted his load down your throat, coming down in a loud groan, you swallowed every drop, your mouth was still wrapped around his cock.
Slick ropes of his cum painted your face down your chin and a few strings of saliva attaching from your lip on the tip as he pulled out, it was a mess. Oxygen frantically rushed into your lungs.
You wiped your chin and placed a sweet kiss on his mushroom tip. Chan looked down at you, his eyes hardening and smirking biting his bottom lip, GOD his dimple made your heart race and core ache insanely.
"You take in my cock so gorgeously my love. Now be a good little slut and get on the bed. Let me see how wet your little pussy is"
Every ounce of sanity and self respect leaves your body when he commands and orders your around in the bedroom, when he takes full control over your mind, body and soul.
You got on the bed like he said, in a position where you were bare to him, the mattress sank as he got on, holding you between his knees and pinning your wrists above your head.
He bit your bottom lip in a hard kiss and smirking against it, Chan pulled out a silk pink ribbon from God knows where and tied your wrists together in a very tight knot, making it impossible for you to move.
"Chan," You whimpered. You didn't care where the hell he got that ribbon from.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm going to take my sweetest time with you baby"
The sound of his husky voice sent waves of arousal rush through your body as he lifted your leg, starting his way kissing from your thigh till he reached your hot dripping core. The gorgeously wet sight infront of him made Chan feel like he took a shot of heroin.
He layed a kitten kiss on your swollen nub as the scent of your arousal washed over him, Chan slowly flattened his tongue against your clit, drawing it in and sucked like a possessed man.
You frantically writhed and bucked your hips with your wrists tied above your head but Chan held you with his fingers pressed on your thighs. Your moans and whimpers were uncontrollable as he ate you out, making the phrase 'eating me alive' come to life.
"Fuck baby. You taste so good. I missed it tons"
"Cha- Chan-" You were panting out of breath. He removed his tongue from your heat after minutes of sucking, feasting and lapping away your juices. He slid his tongue again against your slit and pushed two fingers, knuckles deep in, stretching you out.
You moaned so loudly, desperately arching your back as the cold metal of his silver bracelet on his wrist touched your bare skin sending electric shivers and blood rush like a tsunami through your body.
Chan pumped his fingers in and out, sucking on your clit again and then made his way up your stomach trailing kisses and more upwards towards your breasts.
He clenched an erected tip—that were hard enough to slice crystals—between his teeth and sucked on your nipples, one after another, releasing it with an audible pop and coolly blew on the nub glistening in his saliva.
Chan met your eyes before crushing his mouth on yours hungrily with his stiff arm next to your head holding him up while the other one's fingers were diving inside you. Veins mapped his arm like lightning bolts frozen in mid-strike.
"Do you like this baby hmm? Do you feel good?" Your lungs couldn't get enough air for you to respond other than a noisy moan of his name.
"That's right. Keep moaning my name sweetheart. It's my favourite sound"
"Fuck—Chan wait, Chan—" He slid his fingers from your wet folds and before you knew, the building orgasm gushed out as you came all over his fingers with your back arching.
You squealed and moaned heavily as Chan hissed since you came before he said you could, his hand roughly smacked against your splurting cunt.
Pain was mixed with pleasure at the impact of Chan's hand on your swollen pussy, it was impossible to register on what comes first.
"I should punish you for that now shouldn't I?" He cooed but his voice was thick like gravel, another smack on your cunt.
"No please I— I'm sorry" You whimpered, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you tried to untangle your wrists but the knot didn't budge.
A third smack and your eyes flew open as Chan laughed sadistically at your whimpers. He chuckled and then reached to his night stand, opening his drawer and grabbing a box of condoms that were waiting for him.
He held the golden foil between his teeth before you shook your head and pulled the condom out of his teeth with your mouth since your hands were still tied above you.
"No," You said breathlessly moaning. "You can go raw,"
You wanted to feel his veiny thick cock twich and thrust inside you without feeling some rubber barrier block it.
"Are you sure you want that baby?" Chan asked arching an eyebrow, letting out a deep chuckle and brushing away the hair that was stuck onto you sweat slicked forehead. You nodded without a second thought.
"Yes, yes Chan" You said spreading you legs further, bucking your hip upwards as you began growing impatient. "I need you"
He chuckled again and didn't question your request, he'd love to fill his load in you, if possible to knock you up. But right now, he has enough kids.
Chan positioned himself between your legs and began teasing your entrance with his tip. He grazed it making you feel like he was going to enter but he didn't, your patience was getting lower and lower.
"Fuck me already Chan" You almost screamed, unable hold in your desire and needed to feel him fill you.
"So impatient. You want my cock to wreck this tight pussy that badly huh? Did you miss it that much baby?"
"Yes Chan, I missed you. I missed you fucking me"
Your dirty words drove Chan out of his mind. He leaned above your head and untied the ribbon, stroking the faint red marks that appeared as the ribbon had dug into your skin.
Chan swiftly spun you around and his erection dug onto your lower back. He firmly held your hips and slowly, inch by inch he began filling you with his huge length, a long moan escaping your throat.
At his moment you realized how much you had missed him. You were so tight and clenched his cock, Chan never felt this happy to return home. He hadn't fucked you in a year and yet your pussy knew as if it had a brain of its own to whom it belonged.
To Chan.
You were so wet that he entered without much resistance, but your body had to regrow to getting used to his size, so Chan moved slow until the initial discomfort was replaced with intense pleasure.
Chan's hand palmed your breast, pinching and playing with your nipple as he began thrusting, slowly first, then faster and harder, the intensity of his pace made your knees buckle.
"Ah Chan, oh God" You eyes rolled to the back of your head, mind clouding with lust and pleasure, mouth falling half open, as he fucked you ruthlessly.
It was Intense. Mind-blowing. Obsessed.
"You like that? Do you like that baby? Hmm? Tell me"
"Yes— yes, ah" The slick sounds along with your moans and whimpers poured out like a erotic symphony, Chan felt like it was the best melody his ears ever heard.
He loved the sound of your moans more than the thousand comeback tracks he has prepared on his laptop. He could listen to you like this all day, every day.
Your mind was too fogged with an extreme intensity of lust and pleasure, all you wanted was for Chan to keep pushing further and harder, until you felt like you were crashing off a cliff.
Your walls throbbed as he continued, Chan growled fisting your hair. A tingling pressure began threatening to break free again and if you didn't let go, you felt like you'd explode.
"Chan I'm— I'm going to come"
"Not so fast baby girl" He squeezed your breast causing you to arch your back. Your hands fisted the sheets till your knuckles turned white and your inner walls pulsated at the rhythm of your heartbeat.
"Pleaseplease let me come, please" You cried and begged Chan, tears gushing out of your eyes, you were very close to breaking.
Chan loved ruining you, turning you into a pathetic moaning mess. You were the love of his life after all. But he loved it more when you reached your limit and begged him to have mercy on you.
After a few hard thrusts he hit your G-spot and before he or you could say a word, your orgasm ripped through you like category 5 hurricane followed by Chan who came right after you in a harsh groan and slowly pulled out.
A sharp cry escaped your throat as you plunged forward coming down shuddering, Chan witnessed a sticky mess of his cum seeping out of your fluttering hole mixing with your squirt, the sight sent him to the depths of insanity. Had Chan not held you, you would have collapsed on the floor.
It took you a full five minutes for your brain to process the aftermath of your comedown. You fell on the bed on your back, meeting Chan's eyes, who was watching you, holding an intensity that ignited a spark within you, radiating an intimacy that seemed to bridge the gap between your souls.
The two of you were in a complete mess. Sweat slicked and glistened on Chan's chiseled body, hair wet and tousled, catching for breaths while he looked at you with nothing but love filled in his eyes. The intoxicating scent of sweat and sex fogged the air.
Chan smiled at you, a smile that would make the brightest things in the world seem dull. Your eyes locked, leaving only the electric tension crackling between your intertwining fingers and the whispered promises hung in the air as he leaned down and took your lips in his.
Chan slowly fell next to you, his fingers rubbing your hair, the two of you settling into a comfortable silence. You pulled him closer and draping an arm and a leg over him, you'd just snuggle into his chest and listen to his heartbeat for the rest of your life if you could.
He pulled apart and brushed away a strand of hair behind your ear and placed a kiss on your forehead. No matter how much how much ecstatic sex you've had with Chan, you were a real sucker for his forehead kisses.
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up sweetheart" He said as he scooped you off the bed and carried to the bathroom, where he again fingered you into another amazing orgasm and then finally ending the night.
After the shower, Chan quickly changed his sheets and gave you one of his oversized t-shirts and he changed into a comfortable pair of shorts.
His tee draped nicely over your body, it was slightly bigger than your usual baggy tees, falling up to your mid thigh. Chan's shirt felt so soft and warm, his strong cologne lingered from the fabric.
Turning off the lights, Chan and you settled in under the soft comforts, embracing each other in your arms, exhaustion and satisfaction lined on his face.
"Any plans for the coming weeks?" You asked while sliding your fingers through his hair.
"Felix will be joining us for dinner next week. My mom invited him" Chan replied smiling.
"That's nice, I hope you guys will have a good time" You smiled against the soft pillows and traced a finger across his jawline, leaning in and pressing your lips on his lips, melting into his taste.
Your chest was pressed against Chan's, the two of you cuddled and made out in silence for a while before a distant honk of a car cut it. You glanced at the window then back at him, his eyes were tired and sleepy, he was looking at you and blinking it away.
"Shh," You gently stroked your hand through his hair, slowly helping Chan drift into a good night's rest. His eyes shut as his breathing steadied and his muscles relaxed.
You smiled softly, knowing that tonight, at least, he would find some respite from his sleepless nights.
You knew how Chan struggled to sleep and you would do anything to help him find the most needed rest he deserves.
Chan's arms were wrapped around your waist, as he fell into a sound sleep, you didn't move not wanting to wake him up.
Resting your head onto his chest with your arm over him, palm pressed on his back, you closed your eyes with the tranquil sound of the quiet wind outside providing a soothing lullaby.
Underneath the soft embrace of the covers, you and Chan drifted into a peaceful slumber, cocooned in the serenade of the night with the moonlight shining through the window.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)
Thank you for reading!
xx,Ivyy
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luludeluluramblings · 3 months ago
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Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Six
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: Sorry it took so long. I just haven’t been satisfied with this, but I think I just need to bite the bullet and let it go. I’ve had this in the drafts for a while and have edited it three times.
A/N: I think I might focus on some blurbs. Or, if y’all want, y’all can submit ideas for what Smalltown is gonna be like. I gotta write down a general background for Reader’s childhood there. I have a plan, but wouldn’t mind y’all toss some ideas on to the pile.
A/N: Thank you 🐑 Anon for the happy birthday wishes!
Warning: Kidnapping, Hostage Situation for Reader, Guns, Violence, Death, Yandere Behavior and themes
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
After the initially panic and dread of being kidnapped settles into Reader’s bones, they’re quickly brought to the Iceberg Lounge. Where a Penguin waits to discuss the details of their ransom with them. He’s kidnapped a Wayne or two over the years, but with how well hidden the family has kept their newest member he might as well scope them out and see if he can make a pretty penny from ransoming them. Give them a proper Gotham introduction.
When Penguin finally has Reader he wrongly expects typical Gotham high society behavior. Threats, insult, bargaining, begging, bribing, hell, even crying. But, Reader, even while terrified, keeps being polite. Referring to him as Mr. Penguin, Sir, and saying please and thank you, while doing exactly what they’re told. Honestly, Reader’s more polite and respectful than half his goons and his own goddamn children. Such a damn shame they couldn’t have been his brat.
So he chats with them. Just for a bit.
How does Reader like Gotham? Who’s their favorite bat brat? What’s their favorite food? How much money did your Momma and Daddy leave you? Just friendly get-to-know you questions to help with the nerves. No need to worry. Everyone’s a bit scared during their first kidnapping. But, do they usually live past the first one, sir? Oh, you’re a smart one, aren’t ya? You’ll have to be careful with that.
It’s all quite tense for Reader, just sitting in an empty club with a dangerous man. That is, until word comes in that Bruce Wayne is paying the ransom in full. Apparently, it made Gotham headlines. The newest Wayne kidnapped. It’s all over the News, nearly every channel. Yet, Reader notices something. Why don’t they show my face, sir? It’s because this isn’t going to be your last time getting kidnapped. You’re in Gotham, baby bird. We’re all hostages in this city. How sweet of them to try to protect you from it.
It isn’t long after that, when the lounge gets visitor before the ransom money could even be dropped off.
Red Hood.
One of the Bat Brats, as Penguin calls him. His arrival raising Cain. Rubber bullets and real ones flying everywhere. Penguin gets a hold of Reader, rest his umbrella gun to their temple. Come now, Red. Don’t make me blow their pretty little head off. I’m actually fond of this one. Best of the Wayne bunch, in my not-so-humble opinion.
And, in one of the few times since becoming Red Hood, Jason hesitates. Because if he fails, if Reader gets hurt like he did, he’ll probably burn Gotham to the ground. It’s not an option. He can’t, he won’t, and he will not allow it. And, that thought, is at the forefront of his mind as he looks at Reader’s terrified face with a gun pointed at their head.
The pause, however, is noticeable. Not just to Reader, but to Penguin as well. A sign of weakness or a sign of something more foreboding. It last for a brief moment. Then Red Hood is back in action. Only, in that single moment, a decision was made. A dark decision. Something that had been healed and supposedly buried.
Batman had always fostered the importance of preparedness in them. So, of course, Jason had a magazine of live bullets ready to go for an emergency. And, this was a fucking emergency. Who cares about a few goons? And Penguin fucking deserves it.
Bruce will understand this time. How sad is it that he does?
Penguin barely escapes, with only a handful of his men still breathing and a few bullets in his shoulder, but he lives. Along with the information that the newest Wayne brat is precious enough to a Bat Brat to break the no-kill code again. Though, that might in itself become a problem for Gotham. Once again, Gotham will baptized in blood. Only, the sins are still growing under the red water. Perhaps, this time Gotham will drown in it instead.
Jason grabs a shaking and terrified Reader while leaving the lounge filled with bodies. He’ll take care of it later. Right now he needs to get Reader back to the manor, or somewhere anywhere safe. Away from Gotham, away from its criminals, and, most of all, away from him.
For a moment he had been… enraptured when he saw how scared his precious Reader looked with a gun to their head. How they looked at him with such a pitiful pleading expression. The way the shook and quaked. How fucking big their eyes got in fear.
Reader kept looking at him with those same watery fearful eyes. Those shaking fingers. A tremble that they must be all the way down to their bones. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute.
He didn’t make it for before he snapped, grabbing Reader’s face to ask what they talked with Penguin about. What did he want from you? Why did you look so friendly with him? Don’t you know he’s a criminal. He’s dangerous. He just wants to see them cower like that again. Just once more.
It takes a long moment for him to calm down and pull himself away from terrifying Reader. Eventually, noticing an oncoming storm and realizing he had better get Reader somewhere safe and back to Bruce so he can go back and clean up the trash.
Jason leaves a throughly shaken and distraught Reader on the GCPD roof. Right next to a lit Bat Signal for a tired Jim Gordan to find.
Jim finds Reader in the storm, mildly despondent from the entire ordeal. After ushering them inside and trying to lightly question them, he makes a call to Bruce that Red Hood had rescued Reader and they the GCPD had them safe. Bruce, naturally , breaks all sorts of traffic laws to get to them when he hears the concerned tone in Jim’s voice.
Reader, exhausted from the days events and shock, falls asleep in one of the spare chairs in the GCPD building. Bruce practically melts in relief when he finds them, picking them up and gently loading them in his car. NOT A DAMN TRUCK. To take them back home. Most of the GCPD find the gesture touching. What a sweet father he is. How lucky Reader is to have such a loving father.
Arriving home, Bruce puts Reader to bed, and makes sure Alfred is on stand by to comfort them and see to their every need. Watch them. Let me know if there’s even the slightest sign of a nightmare.
After taking a moment to let his eyes linger on a sleeping Reader, he heads down into the Batcave. Calling the family together for a meeting.
Stephanie is distraught. It’s her fault Reader got taken, all her fault. She shouldn’t have left them alone. She should have been right there be their side the entire time. At every moment and got every second.
And, Bruce, with deceptively calm yet devastating words, confirms just as much.
Surprisingly, there’s no shouting. No disagreements. Not from Stephanie, and certainly not from any one else. Just the cold realization that it was her fault Reader was nearly hurt and the solemn acceptance of it. They were supposed to have a chance to get close. Stephane won’t ever let it happen again. She’ll always be close from now on. In every way she can. Even if she’s not worthy.
Jason having gone back to clean up his mess before reporting back to Bruce and the others had more startling news. No one mentions a thing when they see the blood on him. Nor the empty magazines. Nor that familiar look in his eyes that reminds them of when he first came back. Someone had torched the Iceberg Lounge before he got back. Penguin is still running free, but the lounge is up in fire and smoke.
He did manage to see a figure leaving when he finally saw past the flames.
A Talon.
The Court of the Owls was active once more.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
With the whole Kidnapping thing and the Court being active again despite its previous destruction, Reader’s life went on completely lockdown. They aren’t allowed to go into Gotham at all. Not that they wanted to. The only reason Bruce didn’t just unenrolled them from Gotham Academy is because Damian, Cassandra, and Duke vow to watch them closely and report everything back to him.
Alfred, from then on, drives them all to and from school. Leading to quiet, bordering awkward, mornings and afternoons.
After the whole ordeal with Penguin and Red Hood, Reader is ninety percent certain the family is Gotham’s Bat vigilantes. Mainly due to the fact that Red Hood reminded Reader eerily of how Jason acted to be around them. Luckily, he barely managed to hold himself back. But, it was clear, enjoyed their fear and wanted to scare them. The whole situation resulted in Reader’s momentarily loss of control.
It also didn’t help that everyone seemed to disappear now.
Sure, Reader rides to school with Cassandra and Duke everyday. Damian is also there, but he just silently watches them with those poisonous green eyes of his. The three of them now hovering in the distance down the back of Reader’s neck. Nevertheless, as soon as they were all back in the Manor, the place becomes like a ghosttown. Even Alfred disappears for hours on end now.
Reader rightful assumes it’s more Bat work. But, there’s no one there to talk about how the incident made them feel. To help them verbally process the ordeal. It hurts.
What hurt the most, however, was Stephanie avoiding them.
Now, if Stephanie had just given them even an empty excuse and left the room it probably wouldn’t have hurt so much. But, to watch the blood drain from Stephanie’s face at the sight of Reader and then physically run away from them was offensive and down right painful.
Then there’s the additional fact that, coincidentally, Jason starts showing back up at the manor. Undoubtedly, helping the others with whatever they’re doing in the library. But, Reader sees him as more often as they pace the empty halls of the manor. And, that hysterical gleam in his eyes reminds them of that night they were rescued.
Tim has been like a ghost since the beginning of Reader’s stay. Every time Reader seems to make progress befriending him, he disappears. Only to reappear and act like nothing happened. Unnaturally, he acts like they’re somehow even closer than before. Each and every time. Like he’s never let Reader alone. Ever. Like he’s always been there watching. And, then he disappears, again and again. Only staying for brief moments.
Barbara is just a thought in Reader’s mind. Reader has seen more of Jim Gordon, her father, than Barbara in the recent weeks.
Mr. Gordon had been wanting to check in on them after the incident and ask them a few questions on what happened that night at the Iceberg Lounge. He was quite gentle in his interrogation, if you could call it that. Barbara had told him Reader wasn’t used to Gotham’s madness and must be treated gently.
Not to say Barbara isn’t checking on Reader. Tim’s not the only on constantly checking the manor cameras as Reader paces.
Dick was like a stray wind. Blowing through the manor, knocking Reader over with the shower of affection then disappearing again. To the library. To Buldhaven. To the ends of the world and back for all they knew. Unfortunately, Reader was growing desperate for any sense of comfort and would cling to him when he came. You have no idea how happy that made him. It was so cute how sad Reader was when he left now. How nice it felt to be needed.
Bruce was different, though. After the incident, he somehow managed to find a way to suffocate Reader with his presence without even being in it for long. Appearing at random to just watch them before disappearing again. Nothing was ever said. He just watched them then vanished.
Reader dreads having to bring up the whole incident with Penguin and Red Hood to Nana. They don’t want to cause anyone back home to worry. Besides, it’ll just remind everyone about that incident a few years back. The one that Reader does everything to forget about. The incident that would probably change a few things for better or for worse. For the family and for Gotham.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: Yeah, Penguin lives. But, for a reason. Don’t get mad, please. (I did research and found out he was basically Yandere for his mother and killed his father and brothers to have all her attention for himself. And, he has children. 👀)
A/N: Also, reader’s getting some mild tragic backstory. It’s the DC universe. Everything’s gotta have a bit of bitterness. It’s all for the plot.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Taglist:
@starsdotalk @sleepyghoster @maicenitas @box-of-kinderjoy @yandereheros @skwunkler @cl0esblogg @delias-stuff @rosecentury
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mountsmase · 3 months ago
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I’m Yours
a/n : hi!! I can’t believe I’m finally posting this fic! I’ve had this concept sat in my drafts since March and I went through a bit of a hard time with writing but I’ve now turned this idea into something that I’m really proud of 🥹 this is the first time I’ve attempted to write something where the reader and Mase aren’t already in an established relationship, so I really hope that I did it justice and that you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it!! These two are my babies 🥺 I really hope you enjoy ❤️ feedback is appreciated as always 🫶🏻 (also it’s my first time trying an actual header so please let me know what you think)
word count: 14k +
genre: fluff and smut
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“There you are”
The deep rumble of your best friends voice startles you, his suit clad body brushing against the bare skin of your arm as he appears next to you.
Mason pulls out the chair beside your own, sitting down with you in the secluded corner of the crowded room.
The Together for Short Lives gala is well and truly underway, the large ballroom decorated in elegant black and gold furnishings as people talk amongst themselves around the room. It’s packed, an amazing turn out for such a meaningful event.
The evening so far has been nothing short of special, with a dinner followed by an auction, all of the money going to an amazing cause. Your heart filled with pride watching Mason up on the stage and you’re so grateful that he chose to share this night with you.
“You disappeared on me” Mason pouts, glancing down at the cocktail you’re holding in your hands before taking it from you and lifting it to his lips.
He takes a sip and you giggle at the face he pulls as he clearly didn’t enjoying the sweet tasting drink as much as he thought he would.
“Sorry, I just went to get another drink and then I couldn’t find you” You tell him, taking your glass back when he offers it to you.
“You should’ve called me, I’d of come to find you” He replies, and you try to ignore the way your tummy flutters at his words.
“I know you would’ve, but I can handle being alone for a bit, I’m a big girl”
There’s a playful glint in his eyes when you look up at him.
“But what if I wanted to come and find you?”
“Well you’re here now, so it couldn’t of been that difficult” You grin, watching as he rolls his eyes good-naturedly, and you’re briefly distracted when he reaches up to adjust his tie.
You and Mason have been friends for as long as you can remember.
Your dads used to work together when they were younger and they always had a close relationship both in and out of work, which led to your families becoming close as well. Your mums became inseparable when they were introduced, and a few years later, when you and Mason were born only a few months apart, you naturally became inseparable too.
You grew up together, your parents keeping you close despite the fact that you attended two different schools, and as you got older, your bond only grew stronger.
Some of your best memories are with Mason, you’d stay the weekend at each others houses, spend long afternoons doing homework together before playing in the garden, and there were even a few summers where your families had joint holidays.
It was the two of you against the world, and it had always been that way.
That is until his football career started to take off. You were so proud of him. Your friend was playing for one of the best clubs in the England and you were over the moon to see him doing so well.
But, it unfortunately meant that he became busier and was spending more and more time in London and away from Portsmouth. You tried your best to stay in touch, messaging all the time and video calling when you eventually got phones, but you can’t deny that it was hard not having him around anymore.
Things only started to get difficult when he went on loan to Vitesse when you were 18. It was harder to keep contact with him being away and being so focussed on football, but you’d never blame him for the fact you drifted apart.
You were in college at the time, spending any available minuet that you had on your classes, making sure you could pass your exams and get into the uni you’d always dreamed of attending.
It was difficult, you couldn’t be there for each other as much as you’d of liked to be, and as much as you’d both tried your hardest to stop it, it started becoming harder and harder as time went on.
You’d only see each other at family events like birthdays and weddings and it got to the point where you’d only talk once every few months or so. Even when he came back to the UK and was living in Cobham, you’d video call to catch up and then not speak to each other again for weeks unless you had something specific to talk about.
It was all part of growing up though. He was still one of your best friends, someone you knew you could trust and could call if you ever needed anything, and you were the same to him.
You both became increasingly busy, especially when he began playing for the first team and you were going through university, so it made sense that it became harder to make time for each other.
But, last year, it all changed.
After graduating from university and receiving your degree three years ago, you were presented with an amazing job opportunity in Manchester, which you just couldn’t say no to. It was a big change for you, moving somewhere so far away from home and having to start a new life in a new city, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.
You’re doing amazing at work, having received a promotion not even two years after joining your company, and you’ve got a cute little apartment that you’ve well and truly made your own.
You really didn’t think it could get much better, but you were proved wrong when Mason transferred to Man United last summer.
After a lot of uncertainty surrounding his career, Mason was relived to finally know who he would be playing for next season and was excited to start his new life up in Manchester.
You were one of the only people he knew in the city, and when he reached out, you offered for him to stay in your spare bedroom whilst he settled in and found a place to call his own.
He obviously took you up on your offer, loving the extra time he got to spend with you and the familiarity that came with being in your presence.
You had the best month living together. It was like you’d never been apart, all of those years of having distance between you forgotten. You’d cook dinner together, have movie nights, talk to each other after you’d had a bad day at training or work and even after he moved out and into his new home, you still spent as much time together as possible.
You had your best friend back, and you had truly never felt happier.
Now, fast forward 8 months, and you’re questioning if that’s really all you are anymore.
You’ve always known that Mason is an attractive guy. I mean, how could you not? He’s gorgeous.
But recently that attraction has grown deeper. And not only in a physical way.
The last couple of months have been filled with lingering touches and longing gazes, the line between friendship and something more slowly becoming blurred.
He’s no longer just Mason, your best friend, but he’s Mason, the guy you think, sorry, know that you’re in love with.
Mason is one of the few people who treats you like you’re somebody. He makes you feel like the most special girl in the world without even trying and you’ve had to remind yourself one too many times recently that there’s nothing more going on between you.
You haven’t mentioned your feelings to him because you’re scared. Scared of loosing him and ruining what is such an important friendship to you. Scared that you aren’t enough for him.
You didn’t have the best experience in your last relationship, and you know deep down that Mason would never treat you the way he did and that there’s nothing ‘wrong’ with you. You’re a pretty girl who has good morals and a good head on your shoulders.
But, the fear that you’re not good enough - that you wouldn’t be able to give him what he wants and needs - still clouds your mind, and it’s one of the reasons why you won’t admit anything to him.
And what if he doesn’t feel the same way? After the last couple of months you know deep down that he could, but the last thing you want is to throw away your friendship over it.
You just can’t ignore the growing tension between the two of you.
But…neither can he.
Mason has felt for a long time that there’s no one else for him but you, and his feelings for you just grew stronger after moving to Manchester.
You took him in and made him feel at home in a city where mostly everything was new to him, supported him through a tough transition period, and after moving out of your spare bedroom he found himself craving your company more than anyone else’s.
You feel like home to him.
Tough day at training? He wants to see you. He saw something funny on TikTok? It’s you he wants to send it to you. He burnt his toast that morning? He wants to tell you. You’re at the forefront of his mind all the time.
You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever set his eyes on, both inside and out. You’ve got a heart of gold and he would do anything in his power to protect you from the harsh reality’s of the world. You’re the most important person to him, he just wants to make you happy and see you smiling all the time.
This tension that’s been building between you recently has been killing him, and as much as he worries that you won’t feel the same way, he doesn’t think he can hold in his feelings much longer.
There’s been too many moments where he’s had to stop himself from leaning in and claiming your lips with his own, and it’s been becoming harder and harder to restrain himself.
Especially tonight.
He’d invited you to join him and Lewis as a plus one to the black tie gala, wanting to experience the evening with you and share something that’s always been so special to him.
When you stepped out of the lift earlier in the evening, his heart soared at the sight of you in your floor length gown. You left him speechless, and he’s not been able to take his eyes off of you ever since.
The black material hugs your body in all of the right places, perfectly contrasting against your tanned skin. You’ve matched it with a pair of strappy heals and silver jewellery, going for a simple yet elegant look.
There’s a slit down the left side, starting at your upper thigh, and the sight of your leg poking out from underneath the satin fabric has Mason’s mind wandering to places that he knows it shouldn’t.
You look absolutely stunning, and he’s been struggling to hold himself back all evening.
He’s found his attention drifting to you through out the night, more often than not becoming distracted from whatever conversation he’s having to admire you, and he’d quickly become captivated by your presence.
Sitting next to you now is no different, he can’t help but let his eyes drift down your body and your cheeks heat when you notice his wandering gaze.
There’s a look of longing in his eyes, one you’ve become familiar with, but until tonight you’ve always thought that you’ve been imagining it.
“You need to stop looking at me like that, Mase”
The sound of your soft voice has his attention snapping away from your body, and your heart skips a beat when his warm brown eyes find yours.
His cheeks flush from being caught, but his confidence doesn’t falter.
“Yeah? And what are you going to do if I don’t?” He whispers, loud enough for only you to hear and the teasing smirk that finds his lips has your heart racing in your chest.
You’re overcome by a wave of shyness, any response that you may have had dying in your throat as he shuffles closer to you, his knee nudging into yours under the table.
He’s not sure what’s gotten into him, but the urge to touch you suddenly becomes too much to ignore. He finds himself reaching out, his warm palm landing against your exposed thigh as his other arm snakes behind you, resting against the back of your chair. Your skin burns under his touch, breath hitching in your throat when his thumb rubs in tender circles over the inside of your thigh.
Mason has always been a touchy person, you’ve seen and experienced it over your years of friendship, but there’s something about the way he’s touching you now that has your head spinning.
His hand ventures a little higher and you fumble to open your purse, pulling out your lipgloss and phone in a desperate attempt to distract yourself and he doesn’t fail to notice the way you’ve avoided his question when you open the camera app, using it as a makeshift mirror to reapply the gloss.
He watches as you swipe the applicator over your pink, plump lips, the action captivating him and it takes all of his self restraint to not lean in and kiss you right there and then.
“You look gorgeous tonight, Bambi”
You pop the lid back onto the tube and place it back into your purse - your distraction techniques having been unsuccessful - and look up and into his eyes.
The whispered compliment has butterflies erupting in your tummy, your lips tugging up into a smile upon hearing the nickname he’s always used for you.
It started when you were 10, you always loved the movie and had invited him over to watch it with you after school one day. About half way through you stood up to go and find more popcorn but being your clumsy self you’d ended up tripping over your own feet.
Mase took the opportunity to compare your clumsiness to that of the deer, and at first he used the nickname as a joke, but then it stuck, and now, even in your twenties he still liked to use it. And you love to hear it.
“You don’t look too bad yourself, Masey” you tell him, letting your gaze drop briefly and you take allow yourself a moment to admire him.
Mason is handsome even on his worst days - you’re convinced that he could wear the ugliest outfit ever and somehow still pull it off - but there something about the way he looks tonight that has you breathless.
The suit he’s wearing is simple - perfect for a black tie event. A white shirt with a black jacket and trousers, a matching tie and some dress shoes to complete the look. The chest strap that he wore earlier in the evening has been abandoned, the jacket now undone allowing for more of a relaxed look as the evening goes on.
His hair is freshly trimmed, styled into a short quiff and his facial hair is neat, more of a long stubble than a full beard. The lighting in the room is dim, but you can still make out all of his features, the freckles that are dotted over his cheeks, his long lashes and the dimple that appears whenever he smiles. He’s utterly breathtaking.
“Remind me to thank whoever tailored this suit for you” You smile, gaze locking onto his again as you reach up, smoothing your hands over the lapels of his jacket.
“You like it?”
“I love it, you look so handsome” you let your hands drop back into your lap and he misses your touch immediately.
“Yeah?” His voice is barely above a whisper and you tug your bottom lip between your teeth when you nod gently.
You feel his arm move from behind you as he reaches up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for a moment before brushing down your jaw and you become hyper-aware of how close you are when you feel his breath fanning over your cheek.
It feels as though the air around you has suddenly shifted, his gaze swimming with an emotion that you can’t quite place. The intense eye contact becomes too much for you, your eyes momentarily dropping to his chest but he brings them back to his with a hand cupping your jaw, tilting your head up so that you have no choice but to look at him.
His gaze drops to your lips, once, twice, and a third time, until the desire to feel them against his own becomes too overwhelming. He’s leaning in before he has a chance to stop himself, the lack of hesitation in your eyes only urging him on until someone clears their throat behind you.
“Hey guys” Lewis’ voice snaps you and Mason back to reality, the room around you coming back into focus.
His presence causes Mason to jump away from you, an unwelcome chill touching your skin where his hand no longer rests against your thigh. He groans in annoyance and turns towards his brother.
You release the breath you never realised you were holding, clearing your throat and fiddling nervously with the hem of your dress as Mason looks up at Lewis expectantly.
If he saw anything, he doesn’t let it show.
“Sorry Mase, there’s a few people asking for you”
Mason nods politely, standing up before turning to hold a hand out for you.
“You coming?” He asks, acting as though nothing happened - that he hasn’t just nearly kissed you.
It takes you a few more seconds to regain your composure, blinking up at him a few times before eventually nodding and taking his outstretched hand.
He helps you up, waiting until Lewis has turned away to lift your joint hands to his lips. He places a quick kiss to your knuckles, sending you a soft smile before letting them drop between you again and he doesn’t let go as you follow him through the crowd, fingers still intertwined as Lewis introduces you to an older man who you recognise as one of the event organisers.
You try your best to focus on the conversations that are happening in front of you. You really do.
But it’s hard to concentrate with Mason’s fingers still tangled with yours and the thought of what could’ve happened had Lewis not interrupted you a few moments ago.
That’s the second time you’ve almost kissed him. The first being a few weeks ago when he’d invited you and a few of your other friends over for a games night.
You’d gotten to Mason’s a little earlier than everyone else, wanting to spend a bit of extra time with him before the others arrived and you were in the kitchen, helping him find some snacks and drinks when your favourite song had come on shuffle through the speakers.
One thing led to another and you were dancing around the kitchen, singing your little heart out as Mason stood back and watched you, giggling at your terrible dance moves.
As the song went on you got a little more into it, accidentally crashing into him after tripping over your own feet and he’d reached out to steady you, the two of you laughing together as you found your footing and rested against his chest.
Your laughter had slowly died down, the air around you thickening as you looked up to find him already gazing down at you. The warm look in his eyes could only be described as endearment and what happened next was a bit of blur.
He was leaning in when the door bell went off, the others arriving at the worst time and ruining the moment without even realising.
You’ve thought about it every day since, wondering what could’ve been, and now here you are weeks later, still asking yourself the same questions.
You’re brought back to the present moment when Mason squeezes your hand, dragging your attention back to the conversation happening in front of you.
“You okay?” He mumbles close to your ear, hand letting go of yours to instead wrap around your waist and you melt into his warmth as he tugs you closer.
You nod, sending him a smile that says you’re cool, calm and collected, but it’s as much of a facade as it can be when inside you’re feeling the complete opposite.
“How about one more drink and then we head back to the hotel?” Mason suggests a few hours later, glancing down to his watch and noticing that it’s nearing 11pm.
“You guys go ahead, I’m going to go and talk to a few more people and then I’ll come and find you guys” Lewis tells you before heading to the other side of the room and you follow Mason over to the bar.
“Water?” Mason asks, voice low as you approach counter.
He knows you’re not the biggest drinker, only ever choosing to have one or two drinks when you go out, and you’ve already had a cocktail and a glass of wine with your dinner.
“Please” You smile, glancing over to him as he orders and pays for your drinks.
“Sorry mate, any chance we can grab a straw please?” Mason asks the bar tender when he places your water down in front of you, and you feel your cheeks warm at the simple gesture. You’ve always preferred drinking with straws, some people may think it’s weird, but to Mason it’s just one of the many things he loves about you.
You thank him as he slides the glass towards you, watching as he takes the paper wrapped straw from the bartender with a cheeky grin. He tears off the end of the wrapper, bringing the exposed end of the straw to his lips and you could predict what he was about to do from a mile off, but it still makes you jump when he blows on the straw, sending the paper flying and he laughs as it hits your cheek before landing on the counter next to you.
“Mason” You groan playfully, shaking your head at his childish behaviour. Still, you can’t help but laugh with him, and his heart soars at the sound.
It’s not long later that you’re leaving the venue after finishing your drinks and saying your goodbyes, stepping out into the chilly evening air as Lewis steps aside to call a taxi.
“Did you have a good night?” Mason asks, coming to stand beside you.
A gust of wind ruffles his hair, a couple of strands falling onto his forehead and you have to fight the urge to reach up and brush them away for him.
“Yeah I did, thank you for inviting me, it was special” you smile up at him, rubbing your palms against your bare arms in an attempt to keep warm when the wind picks up. The temperature has dropped significantly since earlier in the evening, and you’re now regretting your choice to not bring a second layer with you.
Mason doesn’t hesitate to slip off his suit jacket when he notices you shivering, slipping it over your shoulders before you can protest. You snuggle into it’s warmth, breathing in the scent of his cologne that still lingers on the fabric.
“Better?” He murmurs, making sure its wrapped around you enough before draping an arm around your shoulders.
“Thank you” You nod, melting into his side when he gently tugs you towards him.
The wait for the taxi isn’t too long, and you stay snuggled up to Mason’s side as he chats away to Lewis about your plans for getting back to Manchester tomorrow. You don’t pay any attention to their conversation though, too busy focussing on his little touches to listen to what they’re saying.
He holds you close, absentmindedly tracing patterns into your shoulder through the material of his jacket. You’re resting against his chest, and it rumbles underneath your cheek whenever he speaks, his soft voice soothing you.
You could stay wrapped up in him forever, but your bubble is popped when the taxi pulls up to the curb in front of you.
Lewis takes the front seat, letting you and Mason sit in the back together and you slide in when he holds the door open for you. He climbs in behind you, pouting as you settle into the far seat rather than the one next to his.
It’s only a short drive back to the hotel, and you spend it in a comfortable silence, stealing glances at Mason every now and then, unable to take your eyes away from him as the street lights shine through the windows, casting a golden glow over his features.
He turns his head suddenly, feeling the heat of your gaze, but you're quick to look away, cheeks blazing when you realise he’s caught you staring.
You start fiddling with your rings, one of the telltale signs that you’re nervous, but a warm hand intertwines with yours, stopping your fidgeting. Mason is already looking at you when you glance up at him, and your heart soars at the gentle look in his eyes. There’s a certain warmth behind them that tells you everything is okay, and you settle back into the seat, sliding your fingers between his and not letting go for the rest of the journey.
Mason is the first out of the car when you pull up in front of your hotel, quickly making his way around to your door before opening it for you and you accept the hand he holds out, letting him help you climb out. He quickly tips and thanks the driver before leading you into the hotel, through the lobby and towards the lifts.
You bid your good nights to Lewis when he steps out on his level, leaving you and Mason alone as the doors close behind him. You settle into another comfortable silence as you continue up to your floor.
The doors slide open and Mason moves aside, letting you step out in front of him before following you down the hall towards your room, wanting to make sure you get back safely.
You stop in front of your door, reaching into your purse to retrieve your room key before turning to thank him for walking you back, but the words get stuck on your tongue, not quite feeling ready to say goodnight to him yet.
“Stay with me tonight?” You whisper, not wanting to ruin the peaceful atmosphere that has somehow been set in the hallway, “we can order room service and watch something, just like we do at home”
He doesn’t respond straight away, and for a very brief moment you worry that you’ve crossed some sort of line, but you watch as his gaze softens, and he keeps his voice low as he says “Let me just go and grab a few things from my room and then I’ll be back, yeah?”
“Okay” you nod, watching as he heads back down the hallway before letting yourself into your room.
You feel giddy, buzzing with nervous excitement as you slip Mason’s jacket off and lay it over the back of the chair before busying yourself with tidying a few things away, making the room look a bit more presentable as you’d left it a mess in your rush to leave earlier.
You’re not sure where the sudden jitters have come from, it’s Mason. You’ve always spent nights at each others houses, snuggled on the sofa, talking until late before falling asleep in each others company. But something about tonight feels different.
You don’t have long to dwell on it though, hearing two taps on the door as you put the last few bits back into your suitcase.
His smile is bright as you swing the door open, stepping aside for him to come in and your eyes drop to his chest as he brushes past you. He didn’t bother changing, but his tie is nowhere to be seen, the top few buttons of his shirt now undone and his silver chain - the one that you brought him for his birthday last year - peaks out from underneath the fabric.
You click the door closed behind him, following him into the room and watching as he puts a few things down on the table beside the bed - his charger and what you think is his toothbrush, along with his wallet and a spare change of clothes for the morning.
“So, room service?” He asks, flopping down onto the bed and settling against the headboard.
He makes himself comfortable, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to just below his elbows as you grab the food menu from the desk in front of the TV. Your breath catches in your throat when you turn to face him, your mouth going dry as the dark ink on his forearm steals your attention.
A smirk ghosts his lips upon noticing your brief loss of composure, but he chooses not to bring it up, instead patting the spot next him.
You slip off your heels, putting them to the side before climbing onto the mattress to sit beside him. “How about pizza? I’m not too hungry so maybe we could share?”
“Sounds good, chips as well?” He suggests and you agree, trying to pass him the menu but he doesn’t take it from you, “You choose, I’m not fussed”
You decide on a classic margherita, letting Mason call downstairs to place the order whilst you reach over him and grab the remote from the table next to his side of the bed. He sucks in a sharp breath when your hand falls on his upper thigh, not so innocently steadying yourself as you lean over him. You can’t say that you’d meant to touch him like that, but you won’t pretend that you didn’t love his reaction.
“Sorry” you mumble, cheeks flaming as you sit back and busy yourself with turning on the TV, logging into your Netflix account whilst he takes a deep breath next to you and finishes ordering the food.
You put on an episode of a series that you’ve been watching together, catching each other up on some plans that you have for the next couple of weeks whilst you wait for your food to arrive and you eat in a comfortable silence when it does, Mason letting you have the last slice of pizza like always.
After clearing away the tray and placing it in the hallway, you lock the door behind you and settle back onto the bed, tucking yourself into his side when he lifts his arm for you.
“Thank you for coming with us tonight. I know it’s a long way from home but it means a lot to have you at these things with me” He tells you, a warm feeling spreading through you as he pulls you closer and rests his cheek against the top of your head.
His arm settles around you, holding you at the waist as you rest your head against his shoulder. You sling your arm over his torso, goosebumps erupting over your skin when his free hand comes to rest on your forearm, fingertips tracing over your skin.
“Thank you again for inviting me, and you know I don’t mind” You tell him, tightening your arms around him slightly, “I’d fly to the other side of the world with you if you asked me to”
He chuckles into your hair, his smile widening. “Yeah? Looks like I should ask them to have the next gala in Australia then”
“Yes! You know I’ve always wanted to go and meet Kangaroos”
“It’s a long flight though, you’d have to let me sleep on your shoulder the whole way there”
“Oh,” you pout at him jokingly, “you wouldn’t buy me a business class ticket?”
His fingertips creep up your waist and you giggle, thrashing against him when they tickle over your skin through the material of your dress.
“I’ll take that as a no then” You sigh dramatically, slumping back into his arms when his fingers relent.
“I’d buy you as many business class tickets as you want, Bambi”
Here we go again with the butterflies.
You settle back into a comfortable silence, Mason keeping his arms locked around you as he tries to switch his focus back to the TV, but it’s impossible when you’re cuddled up to him so closely.
There’s something about being in your presence that makes him feel so calm. There’s no need for him to fake anything, no need for him to worry. He can just be ‘Mase’ without any added expectations or anyone analysing his every move. You accept him for him, and he thanks his lucky stars everyday that your parents met all of those years ago because he’s really not sure what he’d do without you.
But tonight he’s nervous. He’s not sure what it is because these feelings for you are by no means new, but after he nearly slipped up and kissed you once earlier, he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop himself if it happens again.
He wants you. Physically, emotionally, whatever you’re willing to give him, he’d take it, and tonight might just be the night that he does.
He doesn’t realise that he’s been staring at you until you tilt your head to look up at him, having felt the heat of his gaze.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” He whispers, a soft smile sitting on his lips.
There’s a twinkle in his eyes as they drop down to your lips, only for a millisecond before returning to your own and your heart rate quickens, a giddy feeling spreading through you.
“Maybe a few times” you tease, lips curling into a smile, “but you can tell me again”
He lets out a breathy chuckle, “You look gorgeous, always the prettiest girl in the room” He tells you, heart thudding in his chest as a shaky hand comes up to cup your jaw.
His nose bumps against yours as he leans closer. His lips are mere inches away, your heart beating so fast in your chest that you’re sure he can probably hear it.
When you show no signs of hesitation he closes the distance, touching his lips to yours in a tender kiss that you feel all the way from your head down to the tips of your toes.
You feel yourself melting into him as he works his lips over yours with ease, one of his hands cupping your cheek as the other gently pushes against your hip, encouraging you to roll onto your back and your arms wind around his shoulders as he moves to hover over you.
It’s easy to get lost in the feeling of his lips against yours after what feels like an eternity of waiting for this exact moment, your hand weaving into the short strands of hair on the back of his head to hold him to you.
He keeps it soft, your whole body tingling from how gentle he’s being with you as his lips move over yours with a certain tenderness that has you craving more.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that” He breathes, forehead resting against yours when you separate to catch your breaths.
His heart flip-flops in his chest at the smile that paints your lips, unable to prevent his own as you gaze up at him with twinkling eyes.
“Then who am I to stop you from doing it again?”
You’re holding your breath, waiting for him to close the distance again, but when he leans forward he brushes a kiss over your cheek instead, a whine leaving you as you try and chase his lips but he only pulls back further.
“I need to know that you definitely want this Y/N” he whispers, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes as he looks at you, “I know I do, but I’ll never forgive myself if later on you realise that you don’t”
His voice sounds small, the confidence that he exuded earlier slowly fading away, and your heart aches as rest your head back into the pillows to look at him properly.
You slide your hand up from his shoulder, cradling his face in your palm and your heart soars when he leans into your touch.
“Mason, my whole life I’ve known it’s been you” You tell him, gently brushing your thumb over the apple of his cheek and a soft smile finds his lips at your words. “I want this, I want you”
“You’re sure?”
“I’ve never been so sure about anything” You whisper, watching as his features relax.
“I might have to change my mind if you don’t kiss me again though”
He lets out a breathy chuckle, not waiting another second before leaning back in.
It’s like someone has flipped a switch, all form of restraint gone as he claims your lips with a searing kiss that has your spine tingling. He coaxes your lips apart, easily slipping his tongue between them and he takes his time to explore your mouth, brushing his tongue over yours with slow, deliberate strokes.
His hand roams down your dress clad body, kneading into your skin through the satin like fabric and you arch your back into his touch, hands gripping onto his shoulders in a desperate attempt to feel him closer. His warm palm slides over your hip, finding the bare skin of your thigh, exposed through the slit of your dress, and he hooks your leg over his waist.
You moan into his mouth as he presses his hips into yours, the sound going straight to his centre and his length twitches in the confines of his boxers.
“You definitely want to do this?” He asks between kisses, his lips leaving yours to move over your cheek and down to your jaw.
You nod, tilting your head back to allow him better access as he trails his kisses down your throat.
“I need your words, Y/N” he urges, pulling back to look at you.
“Yes Mason, please” You plead, just wanting to feel his lips on your skin again.
He doesn’t waste anymore time, dropping his head back into the crook of your neck and you shiver when his beard scratches over your delicate skin, his lips peppering kisses wherever he can reach and you whimper when finds your sweet spot, your sounds only encouraging him.
He sucks on the sensitive spot below your ear, teeth grazing over your skin before soothing the sting with his tongue and then he’s continuing his kisses down your body.
“As much as I love this dress on, I’d much rather it be off right now” he speaks when his kisses meet the neckline of your dress, the material obstructing his path and stopping him from going any further.
You attempt to reach behind you to undo the buttons that hold it together, but you can’t quite reach them, your position on the bed just leading to an awkward tangle of limbs. You huff out a breath, slumping back into the duvet as he watches you, clearly trying to hold himself back from laughing.
You send him an unimpressed glare, trying once more to reach behind but you only end up finding yourself in the same predicament as before.
“Help me” you pout, and he leans down to kiss it away, loosening his hold on your waist before getting off the bed.
“C’mon, jump up” He holds his hands out for you and you take them, letting him pull you up until you’re standing in front of him.
He moves you so that you’re stood with your back to his chest, his hands lightly brushing down your arms and you shiver under his touch, instinctively leaning back into his warmth.
“May I?” He asks softly, his breath tickling over your shoulder as he speaks.
“Y-yeah” you stutter, trying to steady your beating heart as he brushes your hair to one side.
He must notice the way you tense up as he reaches for the buttons, his lips pressing to your shoulder in an attempt to calm you.
“Relax sweetheart, it’s just me” he whispers, and you force yourself to take a deep breath.
But what if that’s the issue? It’s just him, just Mason. The man you’ve loved for years. You’re comfortable in your body, but what if he doesn’t like what he sees? What if he changes his mind? What if -
Your thoughts are cut off when he gently takes a hold of your waist, turning you around to face him and you’re met with his soft expression, a hint of concern in his eyes.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” He whispers, trying to meet your gaze but you look down, eyes focussing on his chest as a wave of shyness washes over you.
“Hey, look at me” He says, keeping his voice gentle as he brings two fingers to lightly nudge your chin so that you look at him again.
“Sorry, I just…” you begin, and he’s patient with you when you stop to take a few deep breaths, “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m so nervous, it’s just- the last guy I was with like this wasn’t the nicest and he had a fair amount of things to say about my body and - god I’m so sorry” You quickly cut yourself off when you notice you’re rambling, cheeks flaming when you release what you’ve just admitted to him.
Mason feels his heart breaking more and more with every word that leaves your lips. He could never understand how anybody could be so cruel. He feels himself growing angry at the thought of anyone treating you that way and frustrated with himself for not being able to protect you from someone like that.
He knows deep down that there’s nothing he could’ve done to stop it, but you should’ve never had to go through that, and it pains him to know that someone hurt you so deeply.
He doesn’t let his feelings show though, instead making a promise to himself to never, ever, make you feel anything less than beautiful. You deserve so much more and he’s ready to show you just how perfect you are and treat you the way you deserve.
“Listen to me angel, you have nothing to apologise for okay?” his voice is firm, making sure you’re looking right at him before continuing.
“I’m so sorry that you had to go through that. No one should’ve treated you that way. You deserve so much more baby. You are the most beautiful person I have ever set my eyes on Y/N, and I need you to know that I’d never treat you like that.” He tells you, cradling your cheeks in his palms as he rests his forehead against yours.
You nod as best as you can, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth to fight your smile as his words sink in.
“We don’t have to do anything tonight Y/N, if you don’t want to we can just watch another movie or something, I won’t be upset. All I want is for you to feel comfortable.”
Your nodding quickly turns into you shaking your head instead.
“No Mase, I want to do this. I want you.” You reassure him and he leans back slightly, leaving a lingering kiss to your forehead before lowering his hands to your waist again.
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course” you tell him, gulping down the nervous lump in your throat and willing your heart rate to slow down.
“Okay, you still want me to take this off?”
His fingers fiddle with the thin straps of your dress as you nod, trying not to seem to eager. “Please”
“Turn around for me then angel”
You do just that, turning around so that your back is facing him again and his touch is gentle, barely there as he reaches up to brush your hair to the side once more. His lips find the nape of your neck, scattering kisses over your skin, and this time you don’t tense up as he reaches for the fabric.
He’s slow in releasing the buttons, his fingers skimming over your now exposed skin as he takes his time, undoing them one by one before finally reaching the last after what feels like a life time. His lips never leave your skin as his hands lift to brush the straps off of your shoulders, guiding the material down your body before dropping it to pool around your ankles.
Left in nothing but a pair of black, lacy panties, it takes all of your strength to turn and face him. He takes you in, allowing his gaze to drift down your body and he feels himself twitch in the confines of his boxers. The sight of you bare in front of him makes his head spin, feeling overwhelmed by the need to reach out and touch you.
“So fucking pretty” he murmurs, his words setting your body alight as his hand slays out on your waist.
There’s a bright look in his eyes as he draws you closer, guiding you to step out of your dress, and you forget why you were ever worried.
“Thank you for trusting me” he whispers against your temple, scattering featherlight kisses there as you lean further into his body.
Wrapping his arms around your waist he trails his kisses down your face, over your cheeks before landing on your lips.
You melt into him, his grip keeping you upright as you kiss him back with everything you have. Your hands creep up his back, one finding its way into his hair as the other clutches onto his shoulder. Nails dig into his skin through the material of his shirt but he doesn’t care, losing himself in the feeling of your lips on his.
Your fingers rake through his hair, tilting his head to get a better angle and his lips part on a gasp when your nails scratch over his scalp. You take the opportunity to slip your tongue between his lips, clashing with his own as you fight to take control.
It’s a little messy, but neither of you care, years of pent up feelings and frustrations being poured into the kiss until the burning desire to please him becomes too strong to ignore.
“You’ve still got way too many clothes on” you complain between kisses and he chuckles against your lips, reaching to unbutton his shirt.
“No, sit” you say, and he falls back onto the edge of the mattress with a gentle push of your hands against his shoulders.
He leans back, gazing up at you through his lashes, watching with dark eyes as you settle into his lap with a new found confidence.
You leave enough space between you to reach up and fiddle with his buttons, undoing them one by one as your lips scatter kisses over his jaw. His pulls you forwards by your hips, fingers digging into your skin as you continue to undress him.
You struggle a little due to how close you are, but you manage to get the last few buttons undone, working the shirt off his shoulders. It gets discarded behind you, joining your dress on the growing pile of clothes on the floor.
His shoulders flex as he leans back on his hands and you take him in, eyes dragging down his chest from the chain that dangles around his neck to the small tattoo that sits high on his ribs, there’s a light dusting of hair on his chest, his muscles softly toned.
You’ve seen him shirtless plenty of times, but sitting under you now he has you unable to think straight. You have never been so turned on just by looking at someone.
Your need to please him becomes stronger by the second, your mouth having a mind of its own as you trail your kisses down his neck, lighting sucking on his skin until you find his sweet spot. A breathy whine falls from his lips, his fingers digging into your hips a little tighter and that’s when you know you’ve found it, your lips closing over the most sensitive patch of skin.
Your lips graze over the area, licking and nipping as you make your way down to his collarbones, careful not to leave any marks where they may be visible.
He shivers, trembling under your touch as your hands slide down from his shoulders and over his chest, your lips following their path. He sucks in a sharp breath as you tease at the skin right next to his nipple, sucking hard enough to leave a sneaky mark before continuing down to his tummy, making sure to pay special attention to any moles or freckles that you find on your way.
Your legs feel like jelly as you climb off his lap and lower to your knees in front of him, hands pushing his thighs apart to allow you enough space to settle between them. The carpet is rough against your skin, but you can’t bring your self to care as you shuffle around to get more comfortable.
He isn’t without your touch long, his muscles fluttering under your fingers as you graze your lips over the soft ridges of his abs, placing open mouthed kisses along the waist band of his trousers until he grows impatient, his hands aimlessly reaching for his belt.
“Let me” you murmur, moving his hands back to rest by his sides before finding the buckle.
You’re slow in pulling it from the loops, taking your time as you drop it behind you and move to undo the button and zipper, dragging it down at an agonisingly slow pace before sitting back and allowing him to lift his hips. You drag the fabric down his legs along with his boxers, mouth watering as his already hard length springs free from the confines of the fabric.
“Much better,” you drawl, and he lets out a whimper as your lips kiss a path along the inside of his thigh, ignoring the area he needs you the most before moving to the other.
“Y/N, please do something” he pleads, but you don’t need to be told twice, his thighs jumping when a dainty hand wraps around the base of his cock.
He feels thick and heavy in your palm when you give him an experimental tug, glancing up through your lashes to see his eyes fluttering closed, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth.
“Feel good, Mase?” You coo, and his eyes pop open again, the sight of you on your knees between his legs making him feel light headed.
“S-so good” he stutters, hips raising to meet your hand as you twist it over him again before releasing him all together.
You run your fingertips over the underside of his length and he lets out a breathy moan of your name, the sound going straight to your core as you swirl your fingers over his tip and smear the drop of pre cum that’s collected there.
“Fuck, Y/N” he curses, struggling to keep his eyes open as you move your hand back to his base, holding him steady as you lower your head, lips wrapping around his tip.
You flick your tongue over his slit, humming as the salty taste of his pre cum coats your tastebuds and he drops back, resting on his elbows and watching as you take more of him.
You relax your jaw, moving further down his length and taking as much of him as you can whilst your hand works what you can’t fit in your mouth. The sinful sounds that leave his lips only spur you on, continuing to bob your head as you gaze up at him through your lashes.
“Oh my-, fucking hell” he pants, his hand reaching for the back of your head to gather your loose hair into a makeshift ponytail. “You’re so good at that”
His eyes squeeze closed when you take him even further and you gag, eyes watering as his tip hits the back of your throat before pulling back to catch your breath.
Your hands keep up their movements, twisting and tugging until you take him into your mouth again and you let him guide you this time, hollowing your cheeks as he lowers your mouth down his length.
You brace your free hand against his thigh, letting him pick up the pace slightly as you work him towards his release.
“Gonna make me come, Y/N” he sighs, the feeling of your warm mouth around him sending him hurtling towards his orgasm.
“I’ve got you, Mase, come for me” you coo, and he fights to keep his hips still as you pay attention to his head again, tongue swirling over his tip.
One final flick of your tongue over his slit and he’s cuming into your mouth with a grunt, hand tightening in your hair as you work him through his high, swallowing every last drop. You only move away when his hips start bucking from the sensitivity, leaving one final kiss to his tip before sitting back on your feet, taking a moment to catch your breath.
After a few moments of comfortable silence he smiles down at you softly, reaching out for you and you take his hands, standing on shaky legs before lowering yourself back into his lap.
“You okay?” he asks and you nod, leaning into his touch when he cups his hand over your jaw.
His lips meet yours in a soft kiss, his tongue moving over yours and he hums when he tastes himself on your mouth.
His hands trail up your thighs until he finds your panties, hooking his fingers under the fabric, pulling them back before releasing them to snap against your skin.
“Lets get these off” He mumbles, helping you climb off his lap and you move to stand in front of him, shimmying the scrap of lace down your legs as he watches you with crazed eyes until you’re completely bare in front of him.
“Lay down for me” he requests and you do as he asks, sinking back into the duvet as you rest your head against the pillows.
You watch as he stands, walking around the bed to pick his wallet up from the pile of stuff he brought with him earlier and he pulls out a shiny foil packet before climbing back onto the bed.
“Not so fast, baby girl” he tuts as you reach for it, trying to take it from between his fingers, but he places it to the side instead.
“Lay back and let me love on you a little bit”
He moves to hover over you and his lips are on yours in an instant, staying there for just a moment before trailing his kisses over your jaw and neck, sucking lightly and nibbling on your delicate skin as he makes his way down your throat.
“Mase” The moan tumbles from your lips, nails scratching the skin on the back of his neck as you bring your hand up in a desperate attempt to move him lower.
“What do you want, Angel?” He coos, voice vibrating against your skin as he kisses over your collar bones.
“Y-you, please”
“Patience, baby. Let me take my time with you”
And take his time with you he does, his lips dragging over every inch of skin that he can reach as he learns and memorises all of your favourite spots, the ones that have you making those sweet little noises he’s loving so much.
He mouths over your chest, kissing from one side to the other before closing his lips over your nipple and your back arches to meet his mouth as he licks over the sensitive nub, his hand sliding up your body to pay attention to the other. He gropes at your skin, pinching and tugging at your nipple before switching sides to pay them equal attention.
His other hand stays steady on your waist as his lips continue south, keeping you pressed into the mattress when his beard scratches over your delicate skin, causing you to squirm against him.
“Gonna let me make you feel good, baby?” He asks, and you glance down at him, mind reeling as he gazes back at you through his lashes.
You nod vigorously, unable to form a coherent sentence as he slides his hands up the insides of your thighs, separating them enough to settle between them and his breath fans over your core as he inches closer.
“Fuck, look at you” he coos, teasing two fingers through your folds to collect your wetness and your brain short circuits when he takes them between his lips, humming as you coat his tastebuds.
“Taste incredible”
He uses the same two fingers to circle over your clit, waves of pleasure shooting up your spine, and you can’t help the pathetic moan that falls from your lips, head dropping back against the pillows as he shuffles closer.
“Feel good, Angel?” He hums, his lips ghosting over the inside of your thigh.
“Yes Mase, fuck. More” you plead, and his mouth finally meets your centre, a barely there kiss being pressed to your clit before he licks a long stripe up your entrance.
His hands move to hold your hips down as he eats you out like you’re his last meal, no longer wanting to hold back and your moans only encourage him. He alternates between licking and sucking, sealing his lips around your little bundle of nerves before dropping to dip his tongue inside of you, his nose nudging against your clit which has you moaning uncontrollably, back arching to meet his mouth.
Your hands fly to the back of his head, needing something to hold onto, and he hums against you when you tug on his hair, the vibrations only adding to the pleasure that you’re feeling.
You’re unable to think straight, the feeling of his mouth against your core making you forget about everything other then him and how good he’s making you feel, and it’s not long until you feel your orgasm creeping up.
“Mase, oh fuck” you sigh, and when he brings a hand between you to slip a finger through your folds, you’re done for.
His other arm hooks under your thigh, holding you open for him as he slips his finger inside of you, pumping it a few times to stretch you out before adding another.
“I’m gonna cum, Mase, oh my god” you whine, and he doesn’t relent, pulsing his fingers inside of you, his tongue working in tandem with them as he swirls it around your bundle of nerves.
“Let go for me, baby” he encourages, and you cum on his tongue as he suctions his lips around your clit, seeing stars as your orgasm hits you like a wave.
He works you through it, licking you clean until you’re tugging at his hair and he moves away, crawling back up your body.
You lay limp underneath him, eyes closed and lips parted as you catch your breath, feeling well and truly spent from the orgasm he just gave you. Your cheeks are flushed, hair sticking out in every direction, and your make up is slightly smudged, but he still swears that he’s never seen anyone more beautiful, his heart fluttering at the sight of you underneath him.
“So pretty” he murmurs, peppering kisses over your cheeks and the butterflies - the ones that have made a permanent home in your stomach - come back out in full force.
You flutter your eyes open and the twinkle that you find in his own has your insides turning to warm, bubbly liquid, his expression swimming with fondness.
“How are you feeling, baby?” He asks, shuffling slightly so that he can rest his weight against one elbow before trailing his free hand up your thigh, massaging your hips where he was gripping before.
“Good” you smile up at him, fingers toying with the chain that still sits around his neck, “More than good, actually. But there is one thing that would make me feel even better”
He raises an eye brow, “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
You gather as much strength as you can in your post orgasm daze, hooking your legs over his waist to pull his hips down into yours and his eyes widen, realising what you mean.
“Needy girl” he tuts, hissing when you grind your hips and his hard length grazes over your core, “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”
“Please Masey. Need to feel you”
“I know baby girl, I’ve got you. Just relax for me”
He gives you a quick yet tender kiss before reaching over to pick up the foil packet from earlier and you shiver as he tears it open, squirming in anticipation as he sits back on his feet and pulls out the condom to roll it down his length.
“You still want to do this?” He asks you for what seems like the tenth time that evening, looking at you with soft eyes.
“Mase, what kind of question is that?” You chuckle, hand coming to cup his cheek and he leans into your touch when you brush your thumb over his skin gently, “Of course I do”
“Just double checking, Angel” he rests his forehead against yours, nose nudging your cheek and your heart soars at the softness of the moment.
“You ready?”
“Yeah, Mase. Need you”
You wrap your arms around his shoulder as he settles on top of you, spreading your legs for him to rest between as he finds a position that’s comfortable.
He runs a gentle, comforting hand over the outside of your thigh, using the other to guide himself towards your entrance and you suck in a breath as he lines himself up, his tip nudging against your slit.
Your quick intake of breath has his eyes snapping up to yours, concern etched onto his features. “What wrong, baby?”
“Nothings wrong” you reassure him, one of your hands finding its rightful place tangled in his hair, “It’s just been a while, just go slowly please?”
“We’ll go at your pace, baby. Just tell me if you need me to stop or slow down, okay?”
“Okay”
You reach down, encouraging him to move with a slow twist of your hand over his length and his lips are back on yours when he lines himself up with your entrance, swallowing your moans as he pushes in until only his tip is buried inside of you.
He gives you a few moments to adjust, not liking how you wince from the slight stretch, but you only nod up at him, encouraging him to keep going and you moan in unison when he buries himself to the hilt inside of you.
“Fucking hell, Y/N. So tight baby” he moans, his raspy voice right next to your ear.
“Let me know when I can move” his thumb brushes in tender circles over your hip, his other hand pressing into the mattress next to your head and you reach for it, unwinding one of your arms from around his shoulders to side your fingers through his.
Your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him in a way that has pleasure shooting up his spine and he drops his head into the crook of his neck when you give him the go ahead to start moving.
He keeps his pace slow at first, gauging what you enjoy and what’s comfortable. A slow push and pull of his hips as you learn each others bodies.
“You feel incredible, Angel” he grunts, head dipping into the crook of your neck as his hips press into you with every thrust.
“Mason, fuck” You scratch your nails over his skin, back arching as he gives one particularly hard thrust that has his tip brushing over your sweet spot, “right there”
“There?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits it again, a desperate moan leaving your lips as he keeps pushing deeper.
“Y-yeah, faster Mase, p-please”
Your stuttered request is barely audible over the sound of your moans but he hears you just fine, picking up his pace as you wrap your legs around his waist and the new angle allows him to hit deeper, finding that sweet spot with every roll of his hips.
Every single thrust feels incredible, his fingers now digging into your waist to hold you steady. The sounds of your moans and skin slapping against skin is all that can be heard as he works you both towards your highs.
“Fuck, Mase, I’m nearly there” you pant, the sensitivity from your previous orgasm and the feeling of him everywhere sending you hurtling towards your realise sooner than you’d expected.
“I’m right behind you, baby” he groans, pulling his head out of your neck when you tug on his hair, wanting to see him when you cum.
He looks ethereal on top of you, the bridge of his nose flushed as well as his cheeks, his hair a mess and falling over his forehead as that chain dangles between you. You reach for it, using it to tug him down and his lips collide with yours in a heated kiss.
“Mason…” you sob, unable to take your eyes off of his when he rests his forehead against yours.
“I know baby, I’ve got you. Let go for me” he encourages, his thumb finding your clit and that’s all you need to go falling over the edge, walls contracting around him as your orgasm hits you.
A wave of white hot pleasure rolls through you, your entire body trembling against him as he works you through it.
He isn’t far behind, pressing his hips to yours as the feeling of your walls fluttering around his length sends him toppling over the edge with a moan of your name.
His thrusts grow sloppy, hips faltering as he thrusts through it, thumb continuing to brush over your clit until you’re pushing his hand away when you get too sensitive.
With one final thrust he goes limp on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, spent from his orgasm. Your hand finds the back of his head, lightly scratching over his scalp as you both take a moment to catch your breaths. Neither of you make any effort to move for a while, Mason staying buried inside of you whilst your heart beats return to a steady pace.
You wince from the sensitivity when he eventually moves to pull out of you slowly, the kisses that he litters over your forehead soothing you before he discards the condom and collapses onto the mattress beside you.
He reaches towards the end of the bed, pulling up the blanket and you don’t hesitate to shuffle into his arms when he opens them for you, settling against his side with your head resting against his chest as he holds you close.
He knows that he should get you cleaned up, but he can’t bring himself to move as you snuggle into him, one arm draped over his waist and a leg hooked over his thighs, so he lets you get comfortable against him, enjoying the warmth of your body pressed into his.
A couple of minuets pass and you stay in a comfortable silence, fiddling with his chain as you rest on his chest, growing more tired by the second as his fingers sooth over your skin. He wishes you could stay like that for the rest of the night, not wanting to disturb you, but when you start to grow heavy against him he knows he needs to get you up before you fall asleep completely.
“Come on” he hums, lightly tapping your shoulder to encourage you to move. “Got to get you cleaned up, bubba”
You don’t make any effort to move, quite content with staying in his arms and not leaving for the foreseeable future.
“I’m tired” You groan as he resorts to gently pushing you off of him, rolling off the bed completely before holding his hands out for you to take, but you bury your face into the pillows and pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders, missing his warmth immediately.
The bed dips under his weight as he kneels back onto the mattress, hands massaging into your shoulders before rolling you over to face him.
You pout up at him, shaking your head in protest. You know you’ll regret it in the morning if you go straight to sleep without properly getting ready for bed, but nothing sounds better than climbing back under the sheets with him and falling asleep.
“I know, but the quicker we get in that shower the quicker we can get back into bed” he tells you softly, fingers brushing your hair out of your face as you gaze up at him sleepily. “Let me take care of you, bubs”
His gentle smile and sweet words are enough to have you crumbling, holding your arms out for him and he doesn’t need to ask to understand what you want.
He effortlessly scoops you up, a kiss being pressed to your temple as he cradles you in his arms and carries you through to the en-suite bathroom, careful to avoid the clothes that are still scattered around the floor.
He switches the bathroom lights on, keeping them on the dim setting when he notices you squinting from the brightness and moves to set you down on the counter.
Reaching to the side, he picks up your make up bag, looking through it to find some of your makeup wipes before taking one out of the packet. You try and take it from him but he swats your hand away, tilting your chin up with his fingers before bringing the wipe to your cheek.
Your heart flutters at how gentle he’s being with you as he takes his time, swiping the wipe over your skin as he makes sure to get every last bit of makeup. His little focused face makes you giggle, his tongue popping out from between his lips as he concentrates, being extra careful when he gets to your eyes.
He presses a tender kiss to your lips once he’s finished, throwing the wipe into the bin before turning around to get the shower started and your mouth dries at the sight of his back when he faces away from you.
Red scratches decorate his skin, some travelling as high as his neck and you watch as his back flexes when he reaches for the taps to set the water temperature. You feel yourself heat from head to toe at the sight, struggling to keep your composure when he turns to face you again, instantly noticing your flushed cheeks.
“What’s up, bubba?” He asks, hands coming to rest on your hips as he moves to stand between your spread legs.
“I don’t think you should let anyone else see you shirtless for a couple of days” You tell him, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth to hold back a giggle.
“Why? What did you do?”
He moves away from you to look at his reflection in the mirror, eye brows furrowing when he doesn’t find any hickeys or marks like he had expected to.
He looks back to you confused, but you wiggle your finger in a circle, telling him to turn around. He does, looking back at his reflection over his shoulder and you can see the moment he realises, his jaw dropping slightly as he takes in the scratches and marks left by your nails.
“You really didn’t hold back did you?”
“Sorry”
“Don’t be. Just means that I made you feel good” he says with confidence, winking at you with a cocky smirk playing on his lips.
You swat at his chest, not needing to admit that he’s right because you both already know the answer.
He holds a hand out for you, helping you off the counter and steadying you when you stand on wobbly legs, your body aching in the best way possible as he guides you towards the shower.
He steps in behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist and your body slumps into his, face finding a home in the crook of his neck as the water cascades over you.
“You okay?” He mumbles right next to your ear and you nod in response, letting out a content sigh as you nuzzle into his skin.
You stay like that for a while, the water soothing your aching bodies before he reaches over and takes your travel sized shampoo from the little shelf behind you. He squeezes a generous amount into his palm, lathering it up before bringing his hands to your hair and you hold onto his waist, needing something to steady yourself as the feeling of his fingers massaging your scalp sends you into a state of complete bliss.
He rinses it out after a couple of minuets - still way too soon for your liking - and repeats the process with your conditioner, letting you do the same thing for him.
As soon as you’re both washed off he gets out of the shower first, wrapping a towel around his waist before taking another and holding it out for you. Getting out behind him, you step into the towel, letting him wrap it around your shoulders.
You both get dried off, changing into the fluffy hotel robes before he moves to leave the bathroom, wanting to give you some privacy to finish up your nighttime routine, but you take a hold of his hand, not wanting him to leave.
“I’m not going anywhere, bubs” he reassures, noticing a faint look of panic on your features. He slides his fingers between yours, giving them a tight squeeze, “I’m just going to tidy the clothes up and grab you something to sleep in okay? I’ll be back in a few minuets”
“Okay, sorry” you mumble, loosening your grip on his hand, feeling silly for getting so paranoid all of a sudden. “I just don’t want you to leave”
His expression softens. “I’m not leaving, Bambi. I promise. Could never leave you”
He presses a series of kisses to your face, one to your forehead, one to your cheek, one of your nose - that one has you giggling - and finally one to your lips, making sure that you’re smiling again when he disappears into the bedroom.
You busy yourself with drying your hair whilst he picks up your abandoned clothes, placing them into a neater pile next to your suitcase so that they can be dealt with in the morning.
He grabs the spare blanket from the wardrobe and puts it on the bed, switching the main lights off so that only the beside lamp is left on before changing into his clean pair of boxers and finding his toothbrush and the t-shirt that he brought with him earlier.
You’re just turning the hair dryer off when he comes back into the bathroom, brushing through your hair as he places his toothbrush next to yours on the counter. The sight of them next to each other has your heart flip-flopping in your chest, the action oddly domestic.
The multiple bottles and pots of skin care products that you have laid out catch his attention when he comes to stand beside you and he picks one up, reading over the bottle curiously.
“What’s all this?”
“You don’t know?” You meet his eyes through the reflection, surprised when he shakes his head in response. But his skin is always so clear?
“Can you show me?” He asks timidly, watching as you nod before jumping up onto the counter again.
You spread your legs, pulling him to step between them and his hands rest against your thighs as you pick up the first bottle, squeezing some of the serum onto your fingers before massaging it into his face. His eyes flutter closed, enjoying the sensation of you working the products into his skin, tracing the contours of his face as you tell him what each product is and explain what it’s used for.
He listens to your every word, loving how passionate you seem about it and making a mental note to ask you what they are again in the morning, so that he can buy some of the products for himself and keep some at his house for when you stay over.
You finish up with one of your favourite moisturisers before running through the same routine on yourself, letting Mason help when he insists and enjoying the feeling of being pampered by him.
“Thank you” you mumble, leaning forward to brush your lips over his in a soft kiss and he reciprocates, stepping back to allow you to jump off the counter when you pull away.
“Here, put this on” he says, handing you the t-shirt that he brought in, and you happily change into it, his scent lingering on the fabric and filling your senses as the material falls to your upper thigh.
The sight of you in his clothes is one he wants to see for the rest of his life.
You stand side by side at the sink and brush your teeth together, pulling faces at each other through the mirror as you do before following him back through to the bedroom.
You climb into bed first, getting comfortable under the duvet as he plugs his phone in to charge, begrudgingly setting an alarm for the morning. You both know it’ll be a struggle to wake up, but your flight back up to Manchester leaves at 10am, and you still need to make it to the airport before then.
But that’s a problem for the morning. All you’re concerned about now is holding him.
He settles under the sheets next to you, cuddling into your open arms and sliding you closer with an arm hooked over your waist. Your legs tangle together, bodies pressed close as he snuggles into you, his head finding it’s home in the crook of your neck.
He sighs contentedly, melting into you as you rest a hand on his arm and trace the outlines of his tattoos with your fingertips, his own sneaking under your (his) t-shirt to draw random patterns onto the soft skin of your tummy.
It’s the most relaxed he’s felt in weeks. The feeling of being in your arms bringing him a sense of comfort that he never thought possible, but he knows you still have something to talk about, and he’s about to bring it up when you beat him to it.
“What does this mean?” You whisper, the question that’s been on your mind for the past half an hour finally slipping through your lips as you raise your free hand and brush your fingers through his hair.
“It means I’m yours Y/N” he mumbles into your skin before pulling his head from your neck. He shuffles up your body slightly, moving so that he’s hovering above you. “If you’ll have me”
Your hand moves from his hair to instead cup his jaw, your fingertips lightly scratching through his beard as you gently pull him down to press your lips to his in a soft kiss.
“I like you, like a lot” you tell him when you separate, but you keep him close, your arms wrapping around his shoulders
“I’m way beyond like, baby” He admits, a soft smile tugging at his lips and he knows it’s soon, but his heart feels like it’s bursting, and he can’t hold it in any longer.
“I’m in love with you Y/N, I have been for a long time”
He watches you carefully, waiting for any kind of reaction, and he’s a little worried when you don’t have one, your face staying neutral as his words sink in.
But then comes the smile, your lips tilting up as a look of complete and utter joy paints your features.
You’re overwhelmed by different emotions, cheeks hurting from how wide you’re smiling and you can’t help but lean up and press your lips to his again, stealing his breath away with a searing kiss.
The taste of your minty toothpaste still lingers on his tongue when he pushes it through the seem of your lips, working it against yours in slow, languid strokes as he reaches up to cup your jaw. His thumb brushes over the apple of your cheek, his fingers gently tilting your head back and your hand slides around to the back of his head, fingers threading into his hair.
Your chest is heaving when you eventually pull back, looking up up at him through your lashes as you catch your breath. His lips are swollen, cheeks flushed and his damp hair messy from you running your fingers through it.
“You don’t have to say it back, I know you might not feel the same but I-“
“Mason, are you kidding me?” You cut him off, cupping his face in both of your palms. “I’m so in love with you”
A breath of relief leaves his parted lips upon hearing your words, his heart rate settling as you look up at him with twinkling eyes.
“I always have been, Mase. You mean absolutely everything to me”
“Yeah?”
You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding up at him with complete certainty.
“Mason you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I’ve never felt this way before and I know that I won’t feel it for anyone other than you. You’re it for me”
His eyes shine with emotion, his jaw aching from how hard he’s smiling. He feels like he’s floating, your words putting him on cloud nine.
“I love everything about you, Y/N. You’re so fucking beautiful, but it’s not just that. You’re sweet, you’re kind, you’re funny, you make me feel wanted in a way I’ve never experienced before, I’ve waited my whole life for this and now that I have you, I’m never letting you go”
“Good, because I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours Masey”
You lean up, pressing your lips to his in one final kiss and when he rolls off of you, you move with him. He lays back against the mattress, arms opening wide for you to climb into and you settle against his chest as he adjusts the duvet over you.
“When we get home I’m taking you on a date” he tells you, and you tilt your head up to look at him. “I know you’re already mine, but I want to do this properly, and that includes you letting me spoil you”
Mine. You want to hear it over and over.
“Can I choose the restaurant?” You query, already making a mental list of places that you could go.
“Only if you let me choose the movie when we get back to mine after”
“Who said that I’ll be going back to yours?”
“Just because it’s our ‘first’ -” he lifts his hand, making air quotes, “ - date that doesn’t mean I’m going to do the gentlemanly thing and drop you home with a kiss to your cheek after”
“Looks like you’re picking the movie then” You pat his chest, giggling as he mumbles a quiet ‘good’ and you settle back onto his arms with a yawn.
He leans over to turn the lamp off, the room overcome with complete darkness as he pulls the blankets up to your chin.
“Get some sleep, bubba. Early start tomorrow” He whispers with a kiss to your forehead and you groan into his chest.
“Don’t remind me. Can’t we just stay here forever?”
That really does sound like the best idea ever. Here. As in the little bubble that you’ve built together in this hotel room. You’re not ready for it to pop.
“I wish we could Bambi, but I want to get home and take you on that date”
“I wonder what Lewis will say” you murmur.
Your families have been rooting you you both to get together for years, so you know he’ll be happy for you, but telling him as well as the rest of your families somehow seems really scary.
“Well, I was thinking-“
“Oh no” you cut him off, and he chuckles, chest rumbling under your cheek.
“How about we keep this to ourselves for a bit?” He suggests, fingers sliding between yours where they lay against his chest. “No one needs to know just yet, we’ll just take it slow and tell them when we’re ready”
“I like the sound of that. Just me and you for a little while”
“Exactly” he sighs, already looking forward to getting you home and exploring this new dynamic with you.
He feels whole as he glances down at you through the darkness, a wide smile painting his lips and he doesn’t think it’ll be leaving any time soon. He’s spent what feels like a life time waiting for this, waiting for his person, waiting for you. He’s not sure he’s ever been happier than he feels in this moment, all of his worries forgotten about as you lay in his arms.
He can just about manage to make out your features and his heart is bursting at the seams with love for you as he leans down to press another kiss to the top of your head.
“Goodnight, Bambi”
“Night, Mase. Love you”
———————
a/n: If you have made it this far I just want to say a massive THANK YOU! I really do hope you enjoyed 🫶🏻 Feedback is appreciated as always 🤍
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firestorm09890 · 6 months ago
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there's a part of canto vi I've been thinking about since it came out, and it doesn't actually have anything to do with Heathcliff.
this
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She is bitter as fuck and as time goes on she's getting worse at keeping it down. Sinclair's the one who started it, by talking about how sad it is that they'd never get to see color, and Rodya starts to get a little irritated over it (yeah, sure, pity the Backstreets folk and their poor miserable little lives, privileged nest boy), but she's obviously trying not to straight up call Sinclair a privileged nest boy because she doesn't want to. But then Yi Sang and Ishmael join in on talking about how sad this place is with no color and she just can't keep her opinion down.
But that makes the atmosphere tense, and she hates a tense atmosphere, so she changes the subject and her tone, not giving a damn about how obvious it is. also, haha, ice and cold references.
And actually, this doesn't really have much evidence to support it, but I wonder if she holds a higher level of resentment for Sinclair in particular.
Canto II had some discussion about how Rodya wishes she was special (and while I think what Sonya said about her killing the tax collector just to feel special is absolute bullshit, I do also think there is some truth to her wanting to feel special), and introduced us to the concept of The Sign in a way that was vague and more like foreshadowing than actually introducing it. Then Canto III was all about The Sign, and how special Sinclair is, and since then we've had people talking about signs and stars and a new birth of the world and it's all stuff Rodya doesn't get to be part of.
I don't think she wants to hold resentment for Sinclair, and she especially never wants him to know, but going back after all this time and rereading this one interaction with him in Canto II felt pretty jarring.
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the more important part of this is the way it feels like she's making a joke at Heathcliff's expense, for being poor, like even though she's also from the Backstreets she feels she's "above" it.
She absolutely does not feel this way.
On my way to find the first passage, I reread some other interesting stuff:
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Once again, there's the harsh juxtaposition between casual, fun-loving Rodya, and tired, poor man's advocate Rodya. Almost everyone on the team speaks through the lens of a Nest dweller (I have to wonder if learning that Heathcliff was apparently raised in a mansion made her even more bitter), and the way she's so short with her mention of the Sweepers makes me think she's thinking about how painfully obvious it would have been to any other Backstreets dweller. And then, right after, dropping back into her casual voice, and Sinclair revealing that Rodya used the fucked up Backstreets creature to tease him...
Other obvious moments of Rodya being bitter as hell about rich people include this part of S.E.A.
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and this part of her observation logs on Spiral of Contempt (actually, nearly everything in that log that isn't about the physical abnormality has to do with how much she hates how rich people look down upon the poor)
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Hong Lu's canto comes after Don's, and then after his is Ryōshū's, who, based on her source material, probably served one of the most awful, contemptuous rich people the sinners have access to, and I really hope at some point here Rodya gets to snap in a big way
...hey so I wrote this entire post at 1 in the morning and then saved it to drafts because I didn't want to post something at 1 in the morning. the Timekilling Time trailer came out about two hours later, featuring both Rodya... and the long-awaited return of the Yurodiviye. so now it's past 3 in the morning for me but I'm posting it now anyway because ohohoho seeing the Yurodiviye again has given me SO much energy
I have a feeling all this is going to be very relevant extremely soon
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nicoline1998enilocin · 11 months ago
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His innocent assistant
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Pairing | Tony Stark x Lab Assistant!Fem!Reader
Word count | ~ 600 words
Summary | Tony's feeling a little needy, and he can't resist asking his sweet, innocent lab assistant for help. You don't like seeing your boss in any discomfort, so you're more than happy to help out.
Rating | Explicit (E)
Warning(s) | Use of nickname: Sweet Girl, innocent Reader
Smut | Reference to a blowjob, cockwarming, Daddy kink, slight size kink
A/n | I found this deep down in my drafts, and I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for sparking this idea at the time. This is my little present from me to you this Christmas! 🩵
A/n 2.0 | This isn’t proofread, any and all mistakes are my own.
Events Masterlist | Free Space | @marvel-smash-bingo
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Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: @ccbsrmsf1
Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Read on AO3
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"C'mere, Sweet Girl, Daddy's having a problem, and he needs your help to fix it," Tony says in a sweet voice, knowing exactly what to say to get you to listen to him and do exactly as he says.
"Is everything okay, Daddy?" You ask, still a little unsure of calling him Daddy, but he assures you that it's normal for lab assistants to call their bosses Daddy.
"M perfect, Sweet Girl," he tells you as he's eyeing you in your dress that hugs every curve to perfection. It's one of your favorites, and you put it on because Tony told you he liked it the last time you were at one of Tony's parties.
"It's okay; you can get closer. I won't bite." Stretching out his hand, you put yours in his, and he guides you over to him, and that's when you see he's incredibly hard. Seeing you doing as he asks has him hard beyond belief, and he can't believe he has such an obedient, innocent, sweet thing as his lab assistant.
"D-Daddy, are you in pain again? I can help it go away again! Last time, it worked, too!" You tell him excitedly, referring to when you helped "cure" his pain by sucking him off.
"I am Sweet Girl, but I don't think that medicine will work today. I think the one that might help me feel better is in your Princess parts," he says, meaning your - now soaked - pussy.
"But Daddy, it's so big I don't think it will fit!" You tell him with a frown and slight pout, making Tony only hornier. He's never been more glad with someone as innocent as you.
"Don't worry, Sweet Girl; Daddy will make sure it's going to fit, and when it does, you can sit on my lap and keep me warm; how does that sound?"
After thinking about it for a few seconds, you happily nod, wanting to do anything you can to help your boss get rid of his pain. He takes a seat on one of the rolling chairs in his lab before unbuckling his belt and opening his pants, finally able to free his thick, long, veiny cock.
Your eyes are immediately drawn to it, and you start to salivate at the sight, biting your lip while subconsciously squeezing your thighs together for a little relief.
"I'm ready for you, Sweet Girl," he tells you before pulling you closer, and one of his hands glides under your dress to your soaked pussy.
"Did you not wear panties today, Sweet Girl? Hmm, and I can already feel the medicine, but it needs to be in before it can work," Tony says as he guides you to straddle his lap.
You've never been with someone as big as Tony before, and it is quite a stretch since he's long and thick, but your pussy it's tight and small, making it a bit of a stretch. With a deep groan, he slides you onto his cock, and loud moans escape your lips, unable to hold them in. It's not that Tony would want you to do that, anyway.
"Oh, Daddy! Feels so good," you tell him as you experimentally roll your hips a few times, but his large hands quickly stop you on your hips.
"You just need to keep me warm, Sweet Girl; that's the best way for the medicine to work,'' he tells you. Once you're finally comfortable, you lean into Tony and place your head on his shoulder, earning yourself the praise you've been dying to hear from him daily.
"Good fuckin' girl,'' he tells you with a deep groan before getting comfortable and letting you melt into his hold as he returns to what he was doing.
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