#upper young adult
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heathercauthor · 2 years ago
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Book called Earth Sucks! Add it to your Goodreads shelf!
Get it on amazon or B&N or Kobo!
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jazmine-here · 6 months ago
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All forty chapters of this are up now. I can't believe I wrote that much back then.
My Dearest Cousin (2016)
This 2016 AU storyboard of mine for the YA *category is back up on FanFiction.net, where it will live for the rest of its days. How it mirrored the Covid epoch so closely is still beyond me.
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Art by jazmine-here*
Queen Elsa writes a collection of letters to Eugene after a tragedy in the Kingdom of Corona, as well as what to expect from the union their kingdoms have railroaded them into. "He realized ― with a renewed inkling of the worst ― that it didn't take long for her condolences to transition into negotiations."
@butterflydreaming-writes-fic @miranova23 @aninkwellofnectar @big4girl @outindaylight My gratitude goes out to @miranova23 and the famous @betagyre-writes for preserving its life.
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moonstandardtime · 7 months ago
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do u think that if siffrin spoke to someone else who knows the Language he would sound. a lot younger than he is. bc of his phrasing and such
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lostandbackagain · 1 year ago
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please remind me to write something on inkworld citizens of any nationality marrying and having kids wickedly young vs the strolling players being normal about it
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libartz · 2 years ago
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The lack of concrete elf aging rules in elder scrolls is wild because people’s characters can have totally different ages while being in the same ‘life stage’
Like there’ll be an 80-year-old ‘teenager’, 100-year-old ‘middle aged dad’, a 200-year-old who’s also a ‘middle-aged dad’, and 500-year-old ‘young adult’
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fellator · 6 days ago
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saw a post saying teenage boys are meaner nowadays and just thinking. all the kids I know are really nice kids. my young cousin is a delight. half my little sister's friend group is boys and they have a great time together last time I heard of them they were marrying murder drones plushies. last year I was in a mixed age theater group that had some middle schoolers in it and there were all really fun to be around and very respectful. idk maybe it might be true that kids are getting meaner but I'm just so glad all of my kids are doing alright
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accordionlover · 4 months ago
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saying goodbye to my diary from the last 3 years... notgoingtocryiamnotcrying
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bookish-wanderer · 5 months ago
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Book Review: The Expiration Date by Leslie McElroy (*swoon-worthy summer read*)
Haley Swann, aspiring screenwriter and personal assistant, needs a date, any date, to go with her to her best friend’s wedding where her ex-fiancé is the best man. There is just one problem–there is no man in sight. The only man that has consistently been in her life for the past three years is her boss. And he is not an option. Aidan Stone, who is basically Hollywood royalty, needs to clean up…
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thepenmuse · 5 months ago
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COVER REVEAL: ONCE UPON A REALM
    Title: Once Upon a Realm (Once Upon a Legend Book 3) Author: Mary Ting Genre: Upper YA Fantasy Cover Designer: Covers by Christian Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR Blurb:  New allies and unexpected heroes will rise.The cost of Idrisa from saving her world from dark magic is high. She must return to Dumonia, the very empire she vowed never to go back, and destroy The Tree of Life and Death. But…
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helgatisha · 10 months ago
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MOLES N2
Download: boosty | patreon | simfileshare
base game
all genders
elder, adult, young adult, teen
maxis match
info face:
only face
category: mole face, face left cheek
25 variants
info body:
only body
category: mole upper back, mole upper chest
10 variants
please read and respect my tou
Linktree
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ybklix · 13 days ago
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𝑨𝒓𝒕 𝑫𝒆𝒄𝒐
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♱‧₊˚. pairing: dom!hwanghyunjin x sub!femreader 𓈒 ୨९⟡₊⋆∘ synopsis: An eccentric and peculiar artist, whose art is well known for its captivating and erotic method, is fascinated by you, who naively thought you just accepted a small job for him. ೨౿ ⋆ ˚。 genre — warnings: MDNI, smut, shibari ropeplay, dubcon, bdsm, sex toys, impact play, spanking, edging, overstimulation, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names. ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ word count: 9.3k
♬⋆.˚ art deco by lana del rey ♥︎ closer by nine inch nails ♥︎ tear you apart by she wants revange ♥︎ red lights by stray kids
(𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 '𝟮𝟰) ₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚. 04: artist
wen’s note: bitch christian grey who, also red lights is a rope bunny slut wbk
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The distant scent of cigarette smoke hit your face along with the cold night breeze. You shrank into your jacket, feeling your whole body shiver with cold as you waited for the driver you paid for in an app, to wait outside the large chateau property in the middle of nowhere.
It was cold and you felt the anxiety that there was no one left but you.
You heard footsteps behind you and with a shiver you turned, seeing how from the darkness and dim light emerged the bearing of a tall man in a suit.
You would be lying if you said you didn’t recognize him, someone like him would stand out anywhere. Hwang Hyunjin. A handsome adult with long black hair as shiny as night and slitted, villainous eyes in contrast to the rest of his smooth, harmonious face with beautiful bushy eyebrows, a straight nose, and full lips. He was so beautiful and handsome that he also became the model sometimes.
Hyunjin came out for fresh air and he noticed you, he had noticed you from the gallery, the young girl making little notes. Hyunjin had counted the journalists in his exhibition and knew their names and faces but you… he had never seen you, you were too young to work in journalism or as a critic, and yet you still took your notes.
Hyunjin approached you, playfully puffing on his cigarette.
“What did you think of today’s exhibition?”
You looked at him, surprised, you had never been that close to him or talked to him directly but you certainly knew his voice from the one or another interview you saw on the internet. Ah, the great exhibition today by Hwang Hyunjin, you were grateful and amazed that you had gotten a spot to be able to attend. His latest art exhibit, a compilation of sculptures, paintings, and photography inspired by 1920s nightlife, Art Deco, The Great Gatsby, Fitzgerald and Zelda, Hemmingway, Lempicka and Picasso, in a place perfectly with an interior design exactly referring to that era. Hyunjin never did small exhibitions or hung around in small galleries, if he exhibited his art he did it big, in the famous Hwang chateau with a very strict list of upper-class guests, it was not only an exhibition, but a fashion show and almost a carpet event as his dress code was strict and even the most important fashion magazines and designers attended.
You were surprised that he suddenly walked up and spoke to you. You had been lucky enough that the university had gotten you a very coveted spot at the event. You had enjoyed his art… you just couldn’t lie about feeling a little uncomfortable seeing it for the first time in person with your own eyes. His classic and characteristic section of somewhat erotic photographs of women being tightly bound. The photos showed naked and semi-naked women with their red, slightly purple limbs, signs of how truly tight the ropes must have been. But Hwang Hyunjin was praised for his play with eroticism and a popular fetish practice.
In fact, there were so many unsolved rumors and mysteries regarding the uproar of those photographs, of which you were very curious about.
You had to be honest, you were in front of the artist himself, which is very busy and coveted in the art world, you didn’t have that opportunity every day; plus it was what you did, you wrote your most honest thoughts.
“I thought it was beautiful, wicked, perverse and devious.”
You added a bit of mischief and sarcasm in your tone, throwing in a few popular adjectives of which they catalogued his art over the years, an amusing reference that Hyunjin understood perfectly and you were relieved that he did, as if you had instantly connected. He laughed playfully, forming a smile that showed his teeth and narrowed his eyes.
“Wicked and devious, who are you, The New Yorker?” he took another puff of his cigarette, “They called me wicked and compared me to a politician, how dare they, fucking bastards. I prefer the version of The New York Times.”
Erotic and provocative. An artist born to succeed. Art whose photography arouses more than one feeling. Once in their lifetimes, unique art that happens once in many years. The one Hwang Hyunjin. Young and ambitious.
You smiled, as he was clearly just playing along and feigning an angry tone.
“By the way, I’m Hwang Hyunjin” he added more softly staring at you, stepping on the butt of his cigarette.
“I know, nice to meet you, Mr. Hwang.”
He raised his dark eyebrows as he licked his lips, waiting for an answer.
“And… you are…”
“Y/n” you replied, repeating it with your last name.
Hyunjin looked you up and down for a few seconds and your compliance vanished from you in seconds, now you were nervous, feeling penetrated by his gaze in that cold, dark night. You couldn’t lie, Hyunjin was fucking hot and handsome, his scent exquisite and his presence out of this world, he was worthy of a work of art on his own.
“Mmm… I see” he met your eyes again, “Did you come as an enjoyer or a critic?”
“A little of both” you said proudly with a smile.
“Mmm, you can never be both” cold weather steam now coming out of his mouth every time he spoke, “You work for some magazine… are you waiting for someone? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a face like yours before…”
You almost fell at his feet at his soft rambling tone of voice, you almost believed him and fell for his charms that you were sure was just another one of his moves as an artist. So you just let out a soft chuckle, but his face reflected subtle genuine confusion.
“No… I’m here for college, I also study art, I got on the list… I have a little blog of my exhibition reviews.”
Hyunjin listened to you carefully, “Ah… I had no idea a college girl would come…” he whispered almost to himself, “And a blog? Like… written? People still use that?” he added amused
You smiled, “Well so far it’s going well.”
“I’m glad. You’re going to write about this? What’s it called?”
You knew exactly what to write about, a charming, playful artist with a mysterious haze about him, you were not to be fooled by his charms…. Hwang Hyunjin was still hiding things.
“Sure, it’s called Red Lights.”
“Ah, of course I’ve seen it, you do those reviews?” your eyes reflected mild surprise, “I liked that write-up about Lee Felix’s fashion collection… but I don’t remember seeing you there on your blog.”
You lightly bit your lower lip feeling a little flattered that someone like him would read something like that, maybe it came to him because of the last review you did of his exhibition months ago that you saw online.
You called his art and method erotic, like many other major media, but it wasn’t just because it was nude… it was because there really was something erotic about it. First, the bondage of the woman was shown, and in another photograph the genuine and true face of pleasure itself, a twisted pleasure, a wicked smile, and shiny tears. That left as much to the viewer’s imagination as the popular belief that it was evident that Hyunjin was pleasuring or performing sexual acts on his models. In your writing, you revealed that Hyunjin himself had exposed liking that sort of thing, such as discipline and light physical abuse. You did not call him a sadist as such since it was just a pair of nudes and ropes tightly bound a woman’s body and upper limbs and their faces with tears of joy. You mentioned the mystery that the photograph captured and left a faithful follower of Hyunjin wondering how it was always a different woman. He had no fixed muse, despite also expressing how romantic he was.
You suddenly felt insecure remembering your review of him, you left more questions than answers but you couldn’t help it. No one really knew Hyunjin outside of the public eye. He could be whatever, his attitude now could just be part of his technique, he was a spontaneous artist, many times compared to Helmut Newton, but you weren’t sure about that, Hyunjin’s art was more haunting and in color.
“You haven’t seen me because I never show my face. I only write. But my instagram is there.”
Hyunjin let out a giggle and you blushed instantly, your body heated in embarrassment, why would you say something like that to an artist much older than you that you had a certain social media. A notification on your cell phone interrupted you, the driver texted that he was close to arriving.
Hyunjin thought it was cute that a beauty like you wasn’t a bit snooty and showing your face, making short art information videos, as it was obvious you had little influence, attending fancy events, dressing well, but still kept to the old method of simple writing. Maybe you were the one looking for a real position in one of those magazines. Maybe you were a beautiful girl stuck in the present day with an old soul.
He couldn’t deny that you had absolutely captured his attention. He was smitten. You were young and smart, but care and rough sex could make you dumb, which was what his deepest, most perverse thoughts hid.
“Sure, a face like yours is unique…” you smiled shyly, ”I��d remember and recognize it everywhere.”
The driver was getting closer and closer to his destination. Hyunjin licked his lips softly and a silence formed in the cold night. He questioned… whether to do it… when every girl he chooses, he studies and gets to know her first, but you arrived so spontaneously, dressed in a Maison Margiela by Galliano that gave those touches of a classic 2000’s Dior.
He acted impulsively.
“What are you doing this Monday afternoon?”
Your heart raced. If he said so, you’d cancel anything.
“Nothing in particular, I’m going to college early.”
“Are you interested in modeling for me?”
Monday, but what a strange and rushed day. Hyunjin didn’t even have plans to start his work at once, but he didn’t want to let you go. He wanted you in his art, somehow something about you connected so much with Art Deco.
The car stopped in front of you right with the descriptions that came in the app. Hyunjin didn’t think you would leave so suddenly, he didn’t even contemplate it.
You thought about it… modeling for him… it meant posing nude? And if the rumors were true… you would be subjected to sexual activity. It was the perfect opportunity to see with your own eyes and fully experience the true process and method of Hyunjin’s art.
“Can I ask you something?”
Anything, Hyunjin thought. He nodded, sensing that the situation was being rushed since you had to get into the car.
“Can I write about it?”
“Deal” Hyunjin didn’t even think twice about it, he would see how he would manage, “I’ll send you the details later. See you soon.”
You got into the car and Hyunjin closed the door for you, bowing with a tender smile that you caught a glimpse of from the window. You wondered if he was staying alone in the huge chateau.
You would finally find out what’s really going on behind the camera.
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Only Hwang Hyunjin could make your Monday so fucking interesting. You were about to spend the afternoon with him and that made you nervous, despite having received all the information in the e-mail where it was specifically worded by Hyunjin’s staff that it would be a simple portrait modeling.
You were slightly disappointed, not because you expected to be tied up and have sex with the most handsome man your eyes have ever seen, but because you wanted answers to all the questions that caused a buzz in the art community, you thought you would be special and be the first to write details about working for Hwang Hyunjin, because every woman he photographs are young and unknown to the public and not much is known about them, not even Hyunjin shows them in his exhibitions so that the public knows that they are real, that they existed and are not just art captured from him… or maybe they were just that. By working for him you became his property and immortalized as such, maybe the beautiful twisted women were others in their daily life.
Still… you hoped you could ask him a few questions and maybe he might reveal something.
Hyunjin was specific with your makeup, natural, with subtle gold with silver glitter eyeshadow and thin-pencil eyeliner. His team showed you in the email the example and sent you exactly the right eyeshadow, foundation, soft blush in a cool pink shade, and the perfect nude shade of silky lipstick. You complemented the makeup hoping it would be what Hyunjin had wanted. He had also been specific with the clothes, nothing that would make marks on your skin, from tight underwear or clothes.
You arrived at the address Hyunjin gave you. A lonely loft building, owned by Hyunjin, where he had his photography equipment and a small studio. Upon entering it was nothing like you expected, everything was perfectly decorated, you should have seen it coming from him.
He greeted you with a smile and you were surprised how he became more handsome in two days… or you were beginning to see him differently after your little paranoia you kept looking for things about him, you couldn’t deny it, he had a unique beauty and charming personality without even trying, something that captivated you and trapped you.
But it was very well known that Hyunjin was a guy who loved to party despite being reserved, he was the perfect combination of a partying artist, lonely, mysterious, and romantic, all his love life was very well hidden, and nothing was known about him romantically other than his art, lifestyle and the way he expresses himself.
Hyunjin saw you with a sparkle in his eyes, knowing you would document everything later. His plan was to go moderately slow, though he couldn’t wait and was itching to tie up your body until you were bruised. But first, he would charm you, with little details and photo shoot appointments, and before you knew it, he would be offering you something much more interesting. He recognized that the process could take days, weeks…
“Welcome. You look beautiful, my godiva. I’ll show you around.”
“Godiva?”
You followed Hyunjin and he turned with a tender smile continuing his walk. Hyunjin looked so good, wearing all-black attire, a thin turtleneck sweater and pants that matched his manly long legs, with his hair slicked back and ring details on his long fingers and a watch on his wrist.
“It is one of my favorite paintings with a story, a pretty and kind woman whose kindness and heart changed her ambitious husband’s mind and helped the village, in exchange for a shameful sacrifice, you know the story?”
“I know it, yes… why did you call me that?”
“Do you want an explanation for everything, don’t you, sweet girl?” he looked at you amused, “Because you are my kind woman. For today. My muse.”
You felt a good shiver. You were happy but at the same time you thought maybe then it’s something he says to every woman who passes through here or works for him. Just another part of his tricks.
You didn’t understand why you were suddenly making such a big deal out of it, it wasn’t like someone like Hyunjin was magically going to fall in love with you.
Hyunjin showed you around, telling you details and stories while you listened to him carefully… but there were times when you got lost in the movement of his lips, you couldn’t help it, so full, so kissable; he noticed it and an occasional mischievous, shy smile escaped from him, normally he felt like he had the highest ego… but with you, it felt like the innocence of a first date.
“Wouldn’t you be taking notes of everything I would tell you?” he paused in his talk to tell you.
You opened your eyes slightly, you knew exactly what to write. Your evening with a real artist, an attractive and charming one, all your college girl classmates would go crazy. Anyone who saw Hyunjin would have a crush on him.
“Oh, I’ll remember everything, don’t worry Mr. Hwang.”
Hyunjin licked his lips, arousing his senses that you spoke to him formally.
“God, I wish I could give you something better to remember tonight” he whispered, his eyes glued on you then averted, you had heard him. “Call me Hyunjin.”
Next was your photoshoot of which you hadn’t felt nervous about until he was attractively setting up his camera, you hadn’t even prepared yourself… the whole damn time you were thinking about his other kind of pictures, the erotic ones, how he tied with his nimble, long fingers and what was really going on for women to have that fucked expression on their face. You only knew that Hyunjin himself talked about that very thing three years ago, that he traveled to Japan to relax, to find inspiration in the little things, and that suddenly one day he discovered the art of shibari, the Japanese rope play and that he learned it from scratch; months after that trip to Japan the world got the first photographs.
It couldn’t be possible… that it was you who was lusting after Hyunjin, and if that was his plan or how he used to do it, it was working, you didn’t care. His clothes were tight on his manly, slender figure… and his thighs thick, but you couldn’t help but notice the large bulge that formed precisely there, the bulge of his notorious cock, which was right there, impossible to miss and without needing to be hard, you cursed mentally, thinking it must be big.
You started to get hot, sweating slightly from your lower back, the dirty thoughts were happening at an incredible speed in your head.
He approached you, ready for the pictures and noticed the faint red color on your cheeks; he smiled smugly, as he had done nothing but exist and you were already all flushed.
You confessed to him that it was weird being the model because you used to be the artist, but he took it upon himself to help you.
You tried on different outfits that suddenly didn’t feel like you. And after a while, you thought you were done when he suddenly ordered you in a harsher tone of voice:
“Wear this Versace, now. I’ll take pictures of you.”
You were surprised because he had all along been polite and didn’t order as such… but you liked how his voice suddenly got thicker as he ordered you something.
The shoot was officially over, and after that and with timid steps, you were ready to get back into your clothes again, Hyunjin was tidying up his photography equipment a bit when he stopped you.
“Where are you going? Stay dressed like that” he ordered you again and then realized his tone, “You can keep the dress… it’s made to fit you. Okay, any questions now that we’re done?”
Too many, but you had no idea how to phrase them.
“It’s night now, would you like to go out to dinner somewhere taking advantage of that pretty dress you have on, sweetie?”
He was driving you crazy, ordering you around but then talking cute to you while looking this handsome and asking you out. You didn’t turn him down.
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On the way to the restaurant in Hyunjin’s car there was a tense atmosphere somehow, but he softened it with small talk, he really liked to talk, he was tender.
You arrived at a fancy place, you weren’t ready for all that but you let yourself go, just walking beside him felt good already.
A delicious dinner, a couple of drinks, and you and Hyunjin were getting to know each other more and more and becoming more comfortable with each other. Even comfortable enough to ask him:
“So… how do you do it?”
“Do what?” he replied with a smile.
You looked at him with your eyes narrowed.
“Your… photographs…”
“Well, with a camera” he joked, “What photographs?” Hyunjin noticed your slight uncertainty to answer in seconds and understood. “Ahh, those photographs. You’re dying to know, aren't you?” he said smugly.
“Of course not…” you jokingly replied.
It was all giggles, until he got serious, took from his glass with champagne and, with the glass near his lips said:
“Do you want to find out for yourself? I bet you want to try.”
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A wicked smile formed on Hyunjin’s face each time you got closer to your destination. He had fantasized about it but he didn’t want to seem like a pervert or rush things with you… but you agreed, you did it and now you couldn’t believe it.
You were more and more surprised because it had been 20 minutes since you had left the city and just driving out of town. Twenty more minutes and Hyunjin finally stopped the car in the middle of nowhere, in front of a traditional Korean house.
A part of you trembled that you felt it in the foreground, that it was you who now let out tears of pleasure as you had fantasized as a handsome, older man like Hyunjin. But another part of you hoped it was only information told.
Hyunjin opened the car door for you and you looked at the place… truly a house in the middle of nowhere among the trees. You felt a chill and the cold of the night on your skin, thinking then that’s where it all happens, where other women have been before you.
“This hanok belonged to my grandfather and he passed it down to me. I’ve kept it ever since. I learned a lot from him, I owe my love of the art to him.”
Hyunjin spoke sincerely. You admired the nice garden.
“It’s nice and peaceful.”
You were trembling with nerves.
Finally, you entered the main room. Everything was still so traditional, with wood everywhere, but you noticed the little modern details Hyunjin added. Every one of his places was just like another art exhibition, decorated with paintings.
“I use it to relax, I get distracted here for a really good time and it's ideal for inviting my friends over… and well, this is where I usually practice bondage.”
You nodded, avoiding looking him in the eye. You wanted to leave. Since you knew the place you could leave; you were biting your lip in constant regret that you were actually going to be tied up. But you wanted to leave because you were embarrassed, not because you didn’t want it—the unique sex experience.
“Come here. You wanted to see it for yourself.”
A couple more rooms with sliding doors. You arrived, but Hyunjin paused with his hand on the door.
“So that you know absolutely everything…” he spoke, looking you in the eyes again.
You nodded, you were anxious and slightly excited but you were beginning to accept your fate —which you weren’t complaining much about—. Hyunjin continued:
“Usually this is where I take the pictures, I like to play with the scenery and re-decorate it, that’s why you see different scenery” he pointed in front of a spot in the room with more photography equipment. “Before entering the model is given a consent form that they decide whether to sign or not, it talks about agreeing to pose nude, to have risqué photos taken even on her genitals, and to abide by my orders as well as choosing a safe word in any case she feels uncomfortable or doesn’t have as much tolerance for pain. I like to play with them, dress them, tie them up, and let the art perform itself.”
Your breath shortened. It was so twisted but coming from his lips, voice, and serious tone… why it was so hot and mesmerizing.
It was a small disappointment that before you there were multiple women and you could almost imagine their naive and excited faces before walking through that door. The contract thing? Slick and dirty.
“Can I see it?” you said suddenly.
He raised an eyebrow in confusion looking so attractive, there was something about his bearing that looked commanding all of a sudden, as if his eyes became sharper and his body more desirable. You were impatient, at least you wanted to kiss him, you didn’t understand why so much desperation.
“The contract” you sentenced.
Hyunjin chuckled and walked over to a desk, pulling out two sheets of paper from some folders and handed them to you.
You bit your lip as you held them… thinking that maybe you were getting excited in vain, that after all, he wasn’t inviting you to be one of his models and that he hadn't even given you the contract nor did he look like he intended to give it to you, just because you asked.
The contract was specific and explicit and talked about you agreeing to be Hyunjin’s submissive for as long as he chooses by being inside that property. In the end, it said something that made too much sense, that after the shoot and when all is concluded, the model should only approach and address him professionally and under no circumstances divulge what she experienced and did. The model has the right to attend the event where her photographs will be exhibited and is obliged to use an artistic name or pseudonym. And it ended with an impressive amount of money with which she would be paid.
You sighed softly as you finished reading. It sounded private and serious from what you said:
“I won’t write about this.”
“Wise decision. But because I like you so much I can give you the exclusive and you decide already whether to write or not, sweetheart.”
You didn’t even have time to think when Hyunjin took the papers from your hand and slid the door open, revealing a long rectangular room decorated in classic wood and well-lit, with a sweet and mesmerizing scent, everything was spotless… but in the room, there was evidently sex practice furniture.
“Obviously everything is clean, it’s rigorously cleaned every time the mess is finished, and you’re lucky that the chairs and stuff are new.”
Lucky. You were at a loss for words. It was real. It was what he liked to do. You didn’t judge him, it was so normal, just another way he lived his sex life. But it was unknown to you, at least living it or actually seeing it and the unknown gives you that certain uneasy feeling.
Hyunjin took a step forward staring at you still holding the papers in his hand.
“Do you want to give it a try? Do you want to sign the contract?” he brought his face close to yours with a smug smile. “It can be for artistic purposes, just so you understand the art you’re so curious about” he crooned, playfully.
You shuddered and maintaining eye contact you nodded shyly. You knew exactly what you were agreeing to, there was no need to play dumb, you wanted it, you wanted it ever since you saw him when you entered his loft.
“You can sign later. I’ll get you dressed” Hyunjin spoke, in a more cheerful and excited tone.
He was just as, if not slightly more impatient than you. He hadn’t felt this aroused in a while, most of the time he did get aroused but it was more like pleasure play, he found satisfaction and didn’t get too involved, he was more dominant and knew how to control it… he was’'t sure if he could pull that off with you just now.
You went back to giving a visual tour of the place as Hyunjin walked to another door that appeared to be a closet. You sighed as soon as you saw that it was a closet, with lingerie, sex toys and his ropes.
Hyunjin approached you, holding a silky white babydoll and thigh high sheer stockings also white. He held your face for the first time, making your heart almost stop as you saw him so close and felt his warm hands and cold rings on your cheeks.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m going to dress you in white because…. you have that energy in you so pure and wise, you’re as beautiful as a woman waiting dressed in white at the altar, anyone who marries you will be a lucky fucking son of a bitch. So just for tonight be everything to me, my object of pleasure, my lover, my wife.”
Hyunjin caressed your cheek and you felt your knees go weak at hearing him and seeing the gleam in his dark eyes, you didn’t even have that silly thought that he might have told someone else, you didn’t care, at least you were the one hearing it and living it right at this moment, with him.
“Undress, love, now” he ordered you softly, sliding the zipper of your dress and he took two steps back and moved a little away from you.
His piercing gaze watched you standing there and a subtle wicked smile twitched the corners of his lips. You did as he ordered and as soon as your dress fell to the floor the sensitive spot on your pussy throbbed in excitement, there was something in the atmosphere and in the room beyond your arousal and his incredible sexual energy, something about the place made you feel haunted, as if the silence of the night had a supernatural erotic power on you, you were as uneasy as you had ever been.
Hyunjin licked his lips, watching you take off your last little garments, your underwear. You were so wet, that you felt your wetness slide into your folds as you took off your panties. This time, his cock was unbelievably hard at the sight of your naked body. Hyunjin’s world stopped for a second as his cock throbbed in complete pleasure, and he paused to watch you carefully without missing any detail about you, from your shy and slightly nervous expression to the shape of your neck and how it connected to the delicacy of your shoulders and collarbones, showing your chest and breasts… the shape of them, your nipples, your delicate limbs, your abdomen and the sweet juicy skin of your pubis… every detail, down to the moles on your body. He was satisfied.
“You are beautiful,” he told you, moving closer to you.
Up close he became more absorbed and managed to perceive the scent of your perfume, delighting himself in it. He bit his lower lip and couldn’t resist how soft your exposed breasts looked, so he brought both his hands to your tits, making you shudder slightly, massaging them gently, with the babydoll on his broad shoulder. You too bit your lip in pleasure to stop a sigh. You saw his big hands grab your breasts, move them and play with your nipple and in the process you noticed the huge erection in his pants and then you saw his face, thinking he was even bigger with a hard cock, you wanted Hyunjin now, you needed him, you needed to feel him inside you, in your hands, in your mouth… He was so close to you… you could appreciate his so manly features perfectly marked, like his nose and sharp jaw and his lips, you wanted to kiss him and have him take you at once, you felt he could fuck you right there, you were already so ready for his cock to slide into you without even truly touching him.
He repeated your act, he saw your breasts and enjoyed the feel of your tits adjusting to his hands and then he watched your sweet face holding back and he smiled.
“You like that, bunny, huh? Answer everything I tell you.”
“Yes” you sighed.
His giggle again appeared and what started out sweet became more and more intense, squeezing your breasts with intensity and treating them rougher, ending with a rough play towards your nipples that made you sigh.
“Arms up, my baby doll, I’m going to dress you.”
He took his hands off your breasts leaving you with a void as it felt too good, he was stimulating you and turning you on more. Hyunjin put the silky robe on you and took the opportunity to caress and squeeze your ass, taking you to heaven. He got down on his knees and put on your stockings, caressing and squeezing your thighs, until he couldn’t resist, he lifted the robe covering your pussy and his face was in front of your mons pubis, Hyunjin finely ran his fingers on your slick once, and then did it deeply again, earning an unexpected shudder and soft moan from you.
“Shit, you’re so fucking wet, baby.”
He smirked and went to the closet again, finally pulling out the ropes. You didn’t move an inch.
Hyunjin began untying and preparing them, standing in front of you at a distance and looking so fucking sexy as his hands and arms wrapped around the rope.
“Do you know why I chose this place? A house in the middle of nowhere?” he commented, a flirtatious tone in his voice preparing the long rope.
He looked at you and you shook your head, he smiled running his tongue along his cavity, satisfying him as you were suddenly at a loss for words as you had gone from being bubbly and chatty with him to showing yourself just the way he liked it: submissive. A submissive with the big eyes of a frightened bunny, of a prey about to be devoured, of a helpless woman about to be fucked hard.
“Because I took so much admiration for this practice in Japan and my first bondage I did when I was young in a traditional Japanese house, the place inspired me too much and I remembered I had this house a bit abandoned… but the best part of it all is that you are free to make all the noise. You can cry all you want, no soul but me is going to hear you scream.”
Your skin stood on end, the last sentence had been dangerous in every way, hot, commanding and when you least knew it, he was already close to you rolling up his sleeves and ready to start the real attraction.
“Turn around and put your arms behind your back.” he ordered, in a rougher way and intimidating you with his gaze.
You obeyed him and stood staring up at the traditional walls of the room and felt the sensation of the soft rope passing through your arms and Hyunjin placing it in front of your body, encircling your breasts and abdomen, and going up your shoulders. You were so excited that if you opened your mouth you feared a moan would come out of it.
“So… what’s going to be your safe word?” he questioned in a rough, seductive voice and you felt your first squeeze in your arms through the ropes. “Or will you make a bad girl and not need it? That never happens…”
You hadn’t thought about it… was it so painful as to require a word? You thought you were holding on. You will.
“There will be no safe word” you mentioned in a shaky voice.
The next squeeze and the first strong tie in your arms.
“You are a little sick. I adore it. You want to be all spunky girl” he kept on tying, each time squeezing tighter and drawing your arms tighter together, “Let’s see how that works out for you, honey.”
And suddenly, it wasn’t the intensity of the bondage that surprised you, but the way he began to tease you, feeling his warm breath behind you, his heavy breathing, and his erection rubbing against your body.
“Tell me, my dear, have you tried submission and bondage before…?”
“No.”
He tied hard. Squeezing around your breasts, marking them on the babydoll.
“It will be an honor to be the first. But I won’t be gentle, I never am. Do you like rough sex?”
“I-I don’t know.”
You weren’t even beginning to think straight, your pussy was throbbing painfully down there, you were afraid you were going to start dripping from how turned on you were and he was just tying you up and rubbing his erection against you. All you could think about was how good his long fingers must look holding the rope and skillfully tying you up, you wished you had eyes on your back right about now.
“You don’t know?” he tied tight close to your hands, finishing. “You’ve never been fucked hard? Or don’t tell me you’re a virgin?”
You swallowed nervously, gulping saliva that burned in your throat from how enormously aroused you were, your heartbeat thundering in your ears.
“I’m not…”
“Oh yeah? Who was the lucky guy who entered paradise between your legs for the first time?”
Hyunjin stepped back, appreciating the beauty of the bonds in your arms, leaving you immobilized and staggering. He walked to the front of you with a predatory gaze, admiring his creation now on the front of your body, your breasts well marked on the fabric and your abdomen bound in a figure.
“Remember to answer everything, I thought you would be a good girl.”
You looked into his eyes, your big, merciful eyes, full of pure sexual ecstasy.
“My first boyfriend, when I was 19.”
“How is he now?” Hunjin ran his hands through your hair, pushing it a little away from your face, “Knowing he won something wonderful in life, your purity.”
You felt slightly humiliated, you were facing him, in a slightly curved position because of the tight bonds that bothered your arms, which bothered your circulation a little.
“He’s fine, I think. He studied law.”
“Too bad for him, he lost you, but now you’re mine.”
Hyunjin walked out of the room to return with his camera in hands.
“There go the first pictures, hun..”
Flash behind your back, this time Hyunjin didn’t bother to change the setting of the place, he had never shown the place as such, he always decorated it in a way that suited the concept of his exhibition, but you had been so spontaneous, you weren’t even planned for weeks like all his models, the concept was the simple nature of desire, erotic and experimentation.
Then he took pictures of your body in front.
“Fuck they look so good, so homely and domestic. I love it” he mentioned looking at the pictures.
He put the camera away leaving it on the floor carpet and moved your body from your shoulders forcing you to take a few steps, all the way to the center under a bar with chuncky metal hooks hanging from its ceiling.
“You seemed to get so excited at the idea of being tied up. But let’s steady your position, sweetheart.”
Hyunjin hooked you from the rope that ran behind your shoulders and left you hanging, just touching your toes to the floor. You felt strange and excited, unable to move and hanging there like nothing.
He smiled again, satisfied and wicked and his erection throbbed in pleasure at the sight of your state, helpless and bound.
“You still want to know how I take my pictures” he whispered hotly in your ear.
He gently pulled away until you felt his hair brush against your cheek, being in that position and tied up was making you uncomfortable but there was something so hot about it.
“Yes, Hyunjin.”
At this point you couldn’t say no to him and you weren’t thinking clearly, other than the feeling of your limbs and body tied, dangling and your throbbing cunt.
“I know absolutely everything they say about me, but although it may surprise you I never fuck my models, I don’t even kiss them, but I do like to play with them, with their pleasure and temperament, I enjoy taking them to the extreme and having them explore the very capabilities of their body…”
Hyunjin spoke close to your face, like a villain telling his plan to the poor helpless and immobile victim.
“Oh, honey, but I asked you if you like rough sex because I plan to fuck you” he caressed your cheek with his thumb.
He turned away to go back to his kinky closet.
“Wooden paddle or leather?” he hummed for himself, “What will I beat your cute ass with?”
You began to move your hands in desperation looking for a release. It was starting to bother you but you didn’t want to complain, you wanted to truly feel that rare and erotic experience.
Hyunjin approached you, with a vibrator and his leather spanking paddle.
“You’re a good sweet girl, let me get you ready.”
He ran his hand in your folds and you moaned instantly, shuddering, he played with your clit and he bit his lip, getting lost in the soft, sticky, warm feeling of your pussy lips wrapping his fingers. It was feeling so good, you were so needy. Your nipples hardened and your body sought to move in pleasure.
“Go on, sweetheart, make all the noise you want, don’t be afraid to enjoy absolutely everything.”
You let out a choked moan, you pressed your hands against each other unable to move your limbs, it was feeling like heaven itself to be touched by him as you looked into his eyes, his sultry gaze and wicked smile.
“God, you are so wet, are you liking this, my bunny?”
You nodded, desperate.
“Yes!” you moaned in pleasure and surprise as you spoke just as he thrust two fingers into you.
His fingers were perfect in you, so long reaching a soft spot inside you as he stirred them deep in you, almost as if exploring then slowly penetrating you. Hyunjin felt his erection to the fullest, if it wasn’t for his very good control and management of his body, he would be whimpering with excitement, everything about you made him so fucking horny.
But then he left you an emptiness, as he removed his fingers from you. You opened your mouth, breathing was becoming a difficult task, Hyunjin took advantage of your expression and stuck his fingers that were in your pussy to mouth.
“Taste yourself. I bet you taste so good my little doll” he removed his hand from your mouth to hold the sex toy, “Alright, this goes inside you.”
You whimpered in pleasure moving your legs in desperation as you felt the vibrator slide deep inside you, you watched as Hyunjin pushed it into you settling it into a delicious and strategic spot. You again noticed his huge erection and had a great need to touch it… but you were right in that painful situation with your limbs without proper circulation. He placed the single sofa of the room right in front of you and sat comfortably as if having a girl tied up and hanging was the most normal thing on a Monday night for him. Hyunjin placed his calf on top of his thigh, watching you. He stirred in place as sitting made the fabric of his pants squeeze his erection tighter and he grunted softly.
In his right hand he held the small vibrator control and didn’t hesitate to use it, with a single click and a wicked grin on his part, the toy began to do its thing inside you making you moan breathlessly.
You bit your lip hard and swirled your pelvis in pleasure, cursing softly as your walls vibrated, you felt it tingle in you, your labia majora were already a mess. Hyunjin pressed his lips together, examining how you writhed in pleasure with the limited body parts you could move, your head, your neck and your lower limbs.
“Now… tell me that story you didn’t finish, how your love of art was born.”
“What?” you whimpered.
You didn’t think he was serious, he was overstimulating you.
“Do it. Now. I want to know,” he ordered roughly. “Tell me, now.”
You whimpered feeling every great change of vibration and movement in you. You didn’t think he meant it and could hold a conversation having you as a rag doll dangling in front of him.
“I tol-d you that my fa-father had a replica of a painting… by Norman Rockwell in his room… and…” it was hard to speak, between whines and sighs, combined with the guilty pleasure of the pain of not being able to move. “It was fun to look at it… I liked it.”
“Just that? I want more details. I feel you know everything about me; but what do I know about y/n?”
Hyunjin switched the stimulation mode to simulated thrusting motions. Your poor body writhed and contracted, you felt excitedly trapped with nothing you could do about it. You were agitated, excited, with your slightly watery eyes and your pussy getting wetter and wetter.
“Fuck” you whimpered and he smiled, “The painting was done by a friend of his…”
“What was his name?” Hyunjin loved playing with you, for an incredibly smart woman, the sexual pleasure was making you silly and he was barely into foreplay.
“Jack… Bahng… and my father noticed the admiration I suddenly had for paintings and took me to my first gallery when I was twelve in New York…”
Hyunjin thought the last name sounded familiar, but he played with you, interrupting you and increasing the intensity of the thrusts that tickled your cervix almost bringing you to orgasm. You squeezed your legs together, it was painful and pleasurable, you felt you couldn’t cum because the position was uncomfortable so you were building the intensity of your climax.
“Whose gallery was it?”
“John Currin, November 2015… mmm, fuck, Hyun-”
“Focus, honey, you’re telling me something? John Currin, doesn’t he also do nudes? I think you like a certain kind of art, you little slut.”
“Mmm…” you didn’t even know what you were talking about, you started to stammer breathlessly, “But… they’re exaggerated or funny paintings sometimes. I attended with my father, his friend and his son, his son is also an artist and he taught me how to paint and from there, from there it was…”
“Aw, you’re daddy’s little girl? Who is your daddy’s friend’s son? Was he the one you said between drinks was your first crush?”
So many questions that were suddenly so hard to answer; this time you didn’t, you were about to burst into your first orgasm, you could feel it, you bit your lip and rolled your eyes softly.
“Don’t you dare cum, I haven’t authorized you yet. Hold it” he spoke annoyed, “You have to answer what I ask you, don’t make me beat you and punish you with the fucking wooden paddle.”
“What?” you stammered, desperate, watching his expression, his smooth thick black eyebrows furrowed in anger.
“Who was the guy who taught you to paint?”
Shit. You wanted to cum already, you were at your peak that you accidentally cum whimpering his name, which Hyunjin disliked completely.
“Chris-Christopher Bahng, ahh.”
This time he was genuinely pissed off.
He turned off the vibrator while you thought you fell into a small release but you were still trapped with pain in your body.
Hyunjin walked towards you and grabbed you roughly by the face.
“I ordered you not to cum.”
That wasn’t what he was truly angry about, it was that you whimpered another man’s name while cumming and it was someone he knew well.
“Christopher Bahng?” he claimed to you in annoyance, releasing you from the hooks and holding you up to lay you down moderately roughly on the floor. “Isn’t he a professor at your university?”
You nodded, exhausted. Christopher had been your first innocent love but it was obvious he was someone older and you were a child, after fifteen you never saw him again and came back reconnecting with him as you remember him, looking the same and teaching art. In fact, he was one of the most important reasons why you attended those important art events, he would get you places, but you used to say it was college support, because in part, it was true. He was just so good to you.
“Use your words.”
You had fallen sideways, turning your back to him and you were giving up feeling your arms, you wanted to be untied already.
“Yes, he is, he’s my teacher now.”
“Unbelievable, you go from Rockwell to Nabokov. You like older men, don’t you?” he spat, taking his camera to photograph you from that angle, with your bare ass, your wet thighs, your numb white arms. “That’s why you’re here, seducing me. Do you know how old I am?”
His choice of words, his tone, he was playing with you. Hyunjin photographed you on the floor, one last time before inflicting physical pain, before leaving your ass red-purple and sore. It was so dirty and hot that you thought for a second that they could be interpreted as the pictures of a helpless victim.
“Yes, I know.”
“I’m older than you, I should have known better bringing in someone so young, sleeping with her seniors for fun. And how old is Chris now?”
“I don’t know… 33, 34.”
“And did you enjoy fucking your teacher, you fucking slut?” he whispered, putting his body over yours without crushing you, to then roughly pull the toy out of you causing you to moan, “Did he enjoy being reunited with his little girl?”
You turned your neck to look at Hyunjin, he was getting the wrong idea, he was breathing heavily against your skin.
“It’s not like that, nothing happened.”
“You know how much it infuriates me that you whimpered his name while you were cumming like a fucking whore, writhing for him, huh? You were thinking about him? When you’re supposed to be mine tonight.”
You were about to answer, but Hyunjin turned your body leaving you face down and began to spank your ass violently with his strong, heavy hand, making you scream and whimper.
“I’ll show you that you’re mine, fuck, I don’t just want you to be mine tonight, I want you to be mine forever” he babbled, giving you spank after spank.
Your body contracted at each stroke, your arms sought to move and you moved your legs but Hyujin held them tightly to stop you from resisting. Your cry and his hand hitting your skin were present in the room, you could even feel the firmness of his rings digging into your skin.
“Hy-Hyunjin!” you couldn’t with the pain that was uncontrollably arousing you, you felt sick, your buttocks were burning but your clit was throbbing again.
“You fucking like this, don’t you, little slut? You like being treated like what you are, huh?”
He stopped spanking you to play roughly with your pussy, penetrating your entrance and stroking your labia hard. You whined in pleasure, the pleasure seemed painfully eternal with Hyunjin. And minutes later, you cum on his fingers unable to resist. He couldn’t resist how swollen and juicy your cunt looked either, so in one swift movement, he settled his body to lick and revel in your juices. You were desperate, you wanted to move, you wanted to touch him, you wanted to see his handsome face as he ate your pussy but you were limited from so many things; still Hyunjin continued, running his hot thick tongue in your cunt.
“Mmmm, fuck baby, you’re—so fucking delicious, I can’t” he moaned, sucking on your labia and cumming slowly and painfully in his pants, unable to hold it in any longer.
He continued to make a series of movements in a rhythm that blurred your vision and brought you to orgasm after orgasm. You were exhausted, sore and hoarse. You had been used.
Hyunjin was hard again, ready to do one last thing before he untied you completely. You felt his mouth pull away from you and heard the sound of a belt buckle and zipper being pulled down. You knew it, you were just slightly recovering when you felt his hot wet tip rub against your puffy pussy lips. He settled your body so that you were supported on your knees; he kept teasing you with his hard member in you, which made him moan until he finally pushed his entire length into you.
New tears began to flow from you. Hyunjin was huge. He was tearing you apart, but his warm cock inside you filling absolutely everything made you feel so whole.
He held on to the ropes, as if he was riding, he began to fuck you and ram you hard, bumping skin against skin.
“Hyunji-n, Hyunjin” you whined his name.
The gasps from both of you filled the room; his cock pounded every part of your insides. His movements were fast, beastly and violent but they left you so satisfied that you came twice in the process and he still continued in you until in sensual moans, he finally filled you with his cum.
Hyunjin pulled out of you to appreciate your used entrance and, out of breath, began to quickly untie you. It was unbelievable, you had not used any safety words or begged for him to stop.
He knew he was rough and that had to untie you soon, otherwise, the ropes would leave more serious marks, of which serious marks, only your ass suffered, red and swollen with signs of bruising. And you had resisted every damn spanking of which he lost count and only hit you for his slight sadistic pleasure of feeling your soft skin being abused.
Finally, your arms could breathe, but you felt a tingling in them. You were just adjusting again when Hyunjin turned your body to see your flushed face covered in tears and light sweat on your forehead.
You groaned in pain as your bottom brushed the carpet. Hyunjin unfastened your rope and robe, leaving you naked and wearing only your stockings.
He began gently caressing your breasts and waist.
“A photograph is not enough to capture you, my dear. I need to immortalize you with my oil painting. I need to paint you. I think I’m in love.”
You watched his face, with your breathing and heartbeat agitated and altered and you also noticed his visible cock, veiny, wet, shiny, erect and big.
You blinked, feeling your eyelashes still wet. Wanting to believe he was serious. Wishing it. That he could be in love with you.
He leaned toward you, brushing his nose against yours and for the thousandth time in the night, he broke every one of his rules with a model:
“Kiss me.”
You joined your lips, his kiss soothed every physical ache in you and the sensation was just as you imagined, dreamy, velvet lips deft in their movement.
The kisses escalated to be more and more sizzling, his hands kept massaging your breasts and his lips started to slide down your neck, you were obsessed with Hyunjin’s lips, your weak arms found a way to caress his hair.
He slowly separated from you. Looking at you with his typical mischievous and tenderly wicked smile.
It was a night to remember, a night you body will remember, but you got the feeling that is was just the beginning.
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in-class-daydreams · 2 months ago
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Imagine ex-husband Gojo doing things for his new love interests that you begged him for while you were married.
After a joint meeting between the sister schools, you overheard Suguru asking him who he was texting during the meeting.
Satoru replied, "Just letting my date know I'll be a bit late tonight since we ran long here. Todo can yap, huh?"
"Seriously!" Their voices faded as they walked down the hall.
You stood just outside the meeting room watching the corner the disappeared around. If you had to pinpoint the number one reason your marriage failed - more than clan pressure, more than the strain of being young parents, more than back to back to back missions - it would be the fact that Satoru can't communicate for shit.
Part of it wasn't his fault. His brain just didn't work like that. An inconvenient side effect of limitless is that everything makes sense in your head, but it's hard for a person with the gift to explain their thoughts to others.
So the no-call, no-shows to dinners was technically a side effect of limitless, as was his inability to articulate his feelings like an adult or the fact that he would just do things without even telling you there was a problem in the first place.
"Quit doing that with your face, brat." Sukuna emerges from the meeting room. He's out of his Ryomen form at the moment, as he usually is during meetings so that he can actually fit in his chair. "How long are you gonna let what he does affect you?"
"It doesn't!" you insist.
Sukuna rolls his eyes. "If that helps you sleep at night."
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Imagine reminding yourself that you can't be mad at him.
You're seeing other people now, too. Hell, you've been divorced for over a decade, it's insanity that you care at all.
It's just. You never doubted his love for you. Not for a second, not even now that your marriage failed and you largely raised your son on your own.
"Mom?"
Maybe your divorce was his motivation to be better. You're not sure. But if he's capable of change, capable of being attentive and communicative, why couldn't he change for you all those years ago?
"Mom."
Could it be that you were his childhood companion and he loved you, but he was never in love with you? Was his love for you less than your love for him?
You hardly notice your son calling out to you until he springs into action. "Mom!" Sen nudges you away from the stove to turn of the burner. When did smoke fill the kitchen? The roux you were trying to make was burnt to a crisp, stuck to the pan and emanating an unpleasant smell.
Sen gently pries your hands off the handle and drops the ruined pan in the sink to soak. Then he makes sure the burner's off before turning to you with a conflicted expression.
He may have inherited a hybrid of both your and Satoru's personal brands of emotional stuntedness, but he could put two and two together between how distracted you've been and the rumors of Satoru dating again - What with it being huge news among jujutsu society (aka power hungry clans with eligible daughters.) Your son had his own complicated feelings regarding his father and as much as he'd prefer Satoru stay away from you, it hurt him to see you like this.
Though, watching you try to keep a stiff upper lip for his sake during the divorce is the reason he doesn't want his father anywhere near you.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart." You wipe your hands on a dish towel. "I wasn't paying attention. Hang tight while I make you something else."
He could kill Satoru right now. But you wouldn't like that, so he won't.
"Mama, I--" He shuts his mouth. You've been protecting him from the details of the divorce his whole life. What did he know about comforting you? But while he may not have been able to protect you then, he can sure as hell try now.
"Mama, why don't I take you out to dinner? My treat."
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Imagine that Sen decides he needs to stop having ideas.
He brought you to a local okonomiyaki that you've been going to since he was little to the point where the owners knew you well and liked to give you little extras from the kitchen. Today's treat was a side of pickled radish.
It was your happy little hideaway. Away from jujutsu and clans and curses and your broken home.
Sen insisted on cooking the okonomiyaki for you, saying that, "My treats means I'll take care of everything!" The weak smile you gave him made his heart soar.
You giggle while he jokes around and tells you about school like how Hikari fell asleep for 45 minutes out of an hour long test and still got a better score than him. Hearing about your son and his happy school days always made you feel better.
Sen was ready to give himself a pat on the back for cheering you up when he hears the front bell jungle and a woman's laughter carries over.
"Fancy places are like that, though!" the woman laughs. "They give a bite of food per plate."
Then a familiar voice replies, "Yeah, but it was good, wasn't it? And now we get to fill up at a cute place like this."
Even though he's the one facing the door and not you, the look on your face tells Sen all he needs to know. What breaks his heart is that you've sunk lower into your seat to make yourself smaller.
Sen could kill his father right now.
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Hooray, angst!
Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]
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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months ago
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DCxDP fanfic Idea: Lights and Camera
"There he is," Tim whispered, looking out from behind the library bookshelves. Besides him, Bart, Kon, and Cassie lean over him, stacking each head on top of each other so they can adequately see who Tim is pointing out.
Across the libary, Babs shales her head with a sigh but doesn't call them out. For one, it would be unnecessary loud and another....well, she enjoys having blackmail on her vigilante coworkers and the Young Jutice team climbing on top of each other to stare at a random civilian was the good kind. She turns back to her list of books to stamp and scan back into the system.
Tim had mentioned seeing someone he wanted to recruit for his and his teammates' fake online clothes store. It was the cover the teens had come up with, for an explanation on how they all had such different backgrounds but had still become friends.
The other bats thought it was a mere cover, but Babs knew how seriously Tim took his fake store. It was mostly due to Tim's team making very realistic cosplay outfits that are commissioned to their site. Since they catered to such a nitch community Tim wanted each job to be perfect. (Also he's a nerd like that)
Or maybe it had everything to do with Tim's not-so-secret adoration of photography.
Bart made the clothes, Cassie and Conner modeled and Tim took all the photos. It helped that the speedster was used to making clothes in the post-apocalyptic future, but no one could deny his master of the needle. Cassie and Conner were both rather good looking, and they seemed perfectly fine with showing off this fact.
The thing is, their store is starting to gain traction. If it weren't for the fact, Bart could move as fast as he could, Just Us fashion would be behind orders for months.
Tim was worried someone would catch on and figured they should attempt to hire a co-tailor. They attempted to reach out to fellow heros but no one their age was interested and they seemed rather put off by the idea of asking a adult.
Everyone was still tense from the last time Young Justice asked the Justice League for help.
Tim then decided to attempt to find a civilian who would help them with smaller pieces. Or maybe someone he could throw in front of a camera and pretend Conner or Cassie had taken a step back from modeling to help out with the orders.
His team allowed him to search for someone since they had no idea where to start. Tim scouted through all of Gotham, and ended up landing on Danny Fenton.
Babs had looked into Fenton's background as a favor to Tim and to satisfy her own curiosity. There wasn't much to the boy. Born and raised in a small town in Illinois, Fenton dropped out of high school to get his GED around his junior year. The notes on his file by his English teacher, principal, and school counselor indicated he was bullied out of school.
He passed the exam on the first try and, within a year, moved four states away to join Gotham School of Arts with a major in fashion. His parents were certified geniuses with a family company working in security and "ecto-entities." His sister was going to Gotham University for a physiology major.
The Fentons are a comfortable upper middle class family with no criminal history; the only blemish on their record is Jack Fenton's speeding tickets.
Fenton lived in the better parts of the city, paying his way through college and his own expenses by working as a remote tech support for various companies. It seemed he had inherited a knack for computers from his parents.
Barbara wasn't sure what about Fenton stuck out to Tim. The boy barely participated in public events when it came to his fashion. He only turned in assignments, and unless Tim made a habit of walking through the school of arts, he would have never seen his work.
"Wait, is he wearing-?" Conner whispered, squinting at Fenton, who was tapping away on his laptop. "He is! That's Flame-Flame battle pants!"
"No way." Bart gasps, standing on his toes to lean closer. "They look so good! Where did he get them?"
"He made them," Tim says with a certain lift to his voice that Babs recognizes easily. Aw, her little computer partner has a crush. "He makes all kind of fandom merch that can be worn out in public."
"Tim, we got get him on the team. Look at that Flame-Flames sweatshirt! I need it" Cassie hisses, rocking in place. She nearly causes Conner- who was leaning on her- to tumble over. "Go talk to him."
"I can't"
At that, Babs glances up. She's never heard Tim be nervous to speak to anyone before. Yet that's what she finds as the Young Justice team disappear aroudn the coner surrounding a red face Tim.
"What do you mean you can't? Why not?" Conner asks
"Look, I already tried to recruit him but messed up my pitch." As he admits, Tim kicks his feet, not bothering to look anyone in the eye. When he locked eyes with me, I choked on my spit midsentence."
Cassie slaps a hand over her mouth, but she is not fast enough to hide the snicker that slips through. The glare she gets from the only regular human could have sent her to her uncle Hades. "I'm sorry, you choked on your spit? Mr. CEO of WE? Mr. Suave? Mr. New Lover, every other Tuesday?"
"Shut up you don't get it! He was dressed in a really cool outfit of the Ninjas of Konoha, okay!? I wasn't prepared."
Barbara glances at Fenton as the team attempts to tease Tim. Rather loudly. It's like they forget they are in a really old building, so the acoustics pick up their voices really easily.
Based on his blushing face and hunched-over form, Fenton can obviously hear them. He keeps sending short glances to the shelf the other teens hide in. Fenton glances at his computer screen before rapidly fixing up his hair and straightening his clothes.
He fixes his scattered papers just as Tim rounds the corner of the bookshelves, looking rather nervous as he scoots to Fenton's desk. Babs watches the remaining young juice team whisper and shout encouragement as Tim stands next to Fenton.
Fenton's face, if possible, go even redder, and much to Babs' shock, he even starts to twirl the end of his ponytail around his figure as Tim starts talking.
This is cute. She thinks, aiming her camera phone at the pair. Taking three different shots, each displaying Tim's fumbling mess and Fenton's obvious interest, she quickly sends it to the bats with an evil smirk. And sort of pathetic.
She gets answers instantly, almost everyone teasing Tim or making "They grow up so fast" comments. The messages make a warm feeling of the family burn in her chest, reminding her of all that they argue about; the Bats truly care for one another.
It's Bruce's thoughts that shatters the chat with a simple text.
Why is Tim flirting with the Ghost King?
Babrbara stares at the words for a long moment before she types
Babs: What do you mean? Who's the Ghost King?
Bruce: That's the Ghost King or his human form. He rules the ghosts and our flip dimension. The Justice League Dark has him marked as a level 15 threat.
Damian: I beg your finest pardon? There are only five other beings on that threat level.
Bruce: Exactly. Tim knows not to speak to him.
Steph: Ugh Bruce none of ous knew that.
Bruce: He was in the yearly safety warning PowerPoint. You all said you reviewed it.
Jason: That thing is nine hours long! Of course, not all of us would actually look through it.
Bruce: I worked very hard on it. :'(
Duke: Guys? Shouldn't we worry about Tim? I mean is the Ghost King going to hurt him
Bruce: No, he's known to be very benevolent. Just as long as you don't accidently insult him.
"I'm not a whore!" The voice cuts through the air like a bullet. Barbara glances up just in time to see Tim backing up with a panicked expression as Fenton sneers.
He quickly gathers his things with a flick of his wrist, having all left in a bright green glow, and pushes by the shuttering vigilante. He stomps his way out of the library with an inhuman growl.
Tim throws his face into his hands with a wail of dispair. "I should have never listen to Dick's flirting advice!"
Barbara slaps a head over her forehead before texting the rest. So Tim may have called the King a whore.
Bruce: This is why I ask you to read my safety PowerPoint.
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your-highnessmarvel · 4 months ago
Text
Insatiable
AN: No one asked for this but the Butcher brain rot is crazy and i can't stop myself. Alas, I couldn't resist so welcome to the madness. Anyway, I went insane and absolutely wrote a devoted piece to this man. Jesus help me.
Warnings: dub-con (use of sex pollen-ish mind control), smut, fingering, language, and Butcher is a warning in and of itself.
MINORS DNI Below the cut
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"I'm not wearing any underwear."
The admonition echoed in the habitat of Butcher's Cadillac like a bird's call. Even the sound of leather on leather, as the man sitting beside you slowly turned to examine you, wasn't loud enough to get the stupid ringing out of your head.
This had all started off like a bad scab you thought was healed but wasn't, and now it was bleeding all over your favorite pink pull.
Hughie and MM had uncovered a rightful piece of Temp V hideout; a Supe's mansion on the Upper East Side who, just happened, to be throwing one of his renowned "XXXchange" parties for Supes and their pets (this was how it was described on the e-vite MM hacked).
This Supe, still unknown to everyone because he kept the mansion under a random woman's name, was supposedly a Seven-in-the-making, as Hughie put it. If he could prove himself, he was next in line for a comfy beige seat in the Tower. So hence, him keeping and distributing Temp V to teens and young adults who didn't know any better.
So what had been Hughie's grand ol' plan? Bring you in. As the newest Supe member of The Boys, no one had yet seen your face. No one even knew of you. You were a low-level "barely considerable" Supe...as Butcher had put it the first time he blew the hinges off your front door.
Your power wasn't really a - well, a power at all. It was mostly an advancement, an intellectual add-on, or a sixth sense. You could read lies. More coherently, because someone with a beard and a giant stick up his ass didn't understand correctly--you could tell when someone was lying.
You weren't really an attribute to the team when it came to brute force. You left that up to Annie and Kimiko. But you had your perks, and since you were still under Vought's radar, you could slip through the cracks and get intel for the Boys.
Now why was Butcher with you, the most notorious Boys' member? Well, one might say he was eager to see your 2-hour fight training in practice, but really, it was because he "didn't trust a dumb twat with highly sensitive information and tech". His words.
So he'd garnished a Tommy Bahama blouse with pink flamingoes and palm trees and a matching set of swim shorts, sunglasses, and a stupid bright pink bucket hat that was way too small for his big ass head.
And now here both of y'all were, headed to the Upper East Side, dressed like a hooker and a pimp. Annie had insisted on this get up, a tiny, tiny pink skirt, a white bikini top, and a pink cover up with flip flops to finish off this fucking look. Because apparently, no one would let you in if you weren't A) a Supe and B) not dressed like a House Bunny.
"So you're tellin' me," Butcher drawled as the New York skyline darkened, "that your bare pussy is suction-cupping my leather seats?"
You crossed your arms. "I'm sitting at an angle."
Butcher slapped the wheel. "You should've told me earlier!" he laughed. You frowned in return when he swivelled that giant head of his towards you. "Come now, if you're not wearing panties, why should I, eh?"
"You wear panties?"
He hummed, regaining control of the road as the car slipped passed the last townhouse to enter Mansion Ville.
"I like you, little Truthteller," he mumbled to himself. "Thought you were a bit worthless at first, but you might just prove yourself tonight!"
You didn't dare answer the last bit, instead focusing on the details Annie and Hughie gave you before you flip-flopped your way into Butcher's passenger seat (and did absolutely not suction-cup his leather seats).
The idea was to go in and place a few bugs in and around the mansion in key locations. You could try to figure out who the Supe was or even find out where he stashed his V, but it didn't matter. The Boys would find out over the bugs.
The mansion Butcher parked the Caddie in front of was like a cookie-cutter version of the 90s PlayBoy mansion.
"Alright, love," Butcher sighed, killing the engine and stepping out, rounding the nose of the car to open the door for you. "Give 'em a nice peek of that minge, eh?"
You blushed from head to toe, a torment of fire assaulting your skin until Butcher caught on and chuckled low in his chest, helping you step out the car with his hand.
You still hadn't gotten used to the crass words that could tumble out of his mouth like vomit.
He guided you to the entrance, where a man dressed in black boxers and a black neck tie asked for your invite number, which you recited from the one Hughie gave you.
Then he asked, "And which is Supe and which is pet?"
You blushed even hotter. "Um." Your throat got sticky and dry all at once. "I'm the Supe and he's my... um, he's my-"
"Her pet," Butcher interrupted with a wide smile, the sunglasses hiding the glint in his eye that was surely showing. That ridiculous bucket hat made him look almost two heads taller than you as he bent down to whisper in your ear, "bark, bark."
You groaned inwardly as you lead him into the foyer, where a sprawling staircase lead to a mezzanine and a mahogany banister and a wide archway gave way to a mess of bodies in the living room.
"Oh my God," you mumbled, turning away from the onslaught of legs and arms and slithering bodies like a pile of snakes.
"Oh, nuh-uh," Butcher chuckled, grabbing you by the shoulders, steering you right into the mass of party-goers, moaning and groaning and thrusting into one another or bouncing on top of each other like mad dogs. "If you want to play the part, you have to look the part." His mouth was right next to your ear, and for some reason, the breath caressing your skin sent a slowly gliding shiver down your spine.
Why was this happening?
You felt the flesh melt where his fingers lay, clutching at your shoulders, pulling your coverup off of you.
"Butcher," you said, stopping his hand.
He shook his head. "Show them what you got, mama," he whispered again, the rough of his beard tracing against your cheek. He scooped the coverup off your shoulders and threw it across the room, leaving you in your bikini top.
Butcher had never seen you so exposed before. You'd always worn pants and t-shirts around the safe house, so watching all that bare skin available to his hungry eyes flipped a switch in his head.
A woman, tall and elegant, cream skin and sultry black eyes, approached you before Butcher could do something stupid. He straightened up, lifting the sunglasses from his nose.
"Miss, look at you," he cooed.
Miss was naked. Someone had left a bite mark on her right breast, just above her peaked nipple. She was so long-limbed and beautiful, and the sight of her naked body made you turn away instinctively.
"I like you," she said, voice low and husky, like a purr.
"I like you too, sweetheart," Butcher answered, the heat of his body completely leaving you as he zeroed in all his attention on the naked, wanting lady before you.
She huffed. "You're great too," she answered, and when you turned, her lascivious brown eyes were settled on you. "But it's her that I want."
Butcher gasped and then erupted in laughter, taking the bucket hat off his head and putting it to his heart. "Woah, I never imagined I'd see this in my lifetime."
The other woman smiled slowly and you gulped. She was pretty, but she was also not part of the mission.
So you back-peddled.
You put a delicate hand to Butcher's arm, digging your nails into his skin, and put on a lovely, sweet smile for the offering girl. "That's nice of you," you said, voice sultry like a wet candy cane. "But we're more interested in watching." As you said this, you dropped into your act as best you could, mustering up the strength not to blush but to play the part of the sex-obsessed Supe.
She brightened up at this, gesturing to Butcher. "Well I could fuck him while you watch," she suggested.
Butcher's body tensed up against you and he turned to you. "Please say yes," he mumbled.
You smiled, throwing him a glance. "Both of us are watchers," you corrected, watching as she bowed her head, a lustrous gleam in her eye.
"It would've been a pleasure," she said before walking away.
When she was climbing onto another woman's lap, Butcher grabbed your bicep and brought you into a corner, sheltered in the dim lighting of the room, smothered under the moans and groans and the sloppy sounds of...intercourse.
"You were this close to fulfilling a fantasy of mine," he groaned, and when you looked up, he looked more angry than turned on.
"We're not here so I can watch you have sex with a woman, asshole!" you gritted between your teeth. ''We're here to plant bugs and find some V."
He huffed, rearranging his Tommy Bahama. "I'm obeying just because you're wearing this outfit," he grumbled, following you as you led them into the next room.
A kitchen, stock full with boxes of canned beverages and food platters.
"Okay, here." You pointed to the dinner table in the adjacent room, a teakwood marvel that surely housed a few meetings or two.
Butcher expertly placed a bug under the table.
You meandered safely through the house, planting bugs in various living rooms, meeting rooms, and spare bedrooms. Whenever some couple or lone masturbator dedicated their attention to you both, you pretended to watch, Butcher enlacing you in his arms.
It's only then you noticed how tall, how big this man was. He was easily dwarfing you by just standing there, your head against his chest, his fingers drawing lazy circles against your exposed spine.
When the onlookers would pass, he'd chuckle as you pushed him away like he was a booger wall.
But the more you traveled in the house, the more people seemed to stare, wanting, questioning. So you ended up holding Butcher's hand, at his command: "Wouldn't want the lovely ladies stealing you away, eh?"
And hand holding turned into his arm around your shoulders, the tip of his very long fingers ghosting your breast.
"Let's go upstairs," he whispered in your ear once he'd bugged up the toilet.
"Ew, no."
He sucked his teeth. "I mean," he gritted, pushing you up against a wall when a man with a considerably large strap on made his way towards you. Butcher bent down, squeezing the breath from your lungs as he grazed his mouth on your bare shoulder. He pressed a featherlight kiss, all while observing the passing man, dragging his lips up to your ear. "We should go bug up the rooms, eh? Maybe see if we can find this cunt's V supply?"
You nodded, a wicked shiver pebbling your flesh.
Butcher blew cold breath onto the thin line of saliva he'd left on your skin. "Cold?"
You swallowed hard. "Let's just go."
He chuckled as you grabebd his hand and led him back to the stairs, galloping up to the second floor.
Truth is, you'd never imagined Butcher like this. He was so arrogant and he loved to make people jump out of their skins by how uncomfortable they were with him, but you'd chopped it up to the old chip on the block; Butcher pushing people away to keep himself safe.
So when the Boys had initiated you, you'd figured it'd be best to steer clear from this tyrant of a man. He was way older than you anyway, and he was always calling you every name in the book except your government given one. And he was always dismissing your ideas, so you'd always assumed he had an image of an immature little girl in his head.
But he'd dreamed of you more times than he cared to count. The messed up parts of his brain, where most of it was left behind in his old life, conjured up hauntings of you every night. Of those soft, plump lips whenever you'd eat cherries. Of your legs in your pajama shorts and your giggle when Kimiko signed something stupid. Of that perfect little body of yours.
"Okay, in here." You interrupted his chain of thought, the one that was going to crash into a puddle brains that would eventually leak out of his ear.
You lead him into a room, which turned out to be some kind of antechamber with a hearth and a giant portrait of a small, bald man.
"He looks like a mouse," you muttered.
But Butcher froze, tearing his hand away from yours. "Oh, fuck me," he groaned, putting his sunglasses and hat onto the low table. "That's the fucking Seducer."
Your skin crawled. You turned, examined Butcher's expression as he leaned against the far wall. "This cum guzzler is the one trafficking V?" he thought to himself, just as you asked, "who's the Seducer?"
Butcher turned to examine you across the room, lit by a few lights in the sconces. "He's the world's number 1 date raper," he answered, frowning. "This guy can intoxicate the female species into a mad heat, like dogs."
"What?" You frowned.
Butcher walked a bit closer, turning his head to watch you out of one eye, like a bird. "Yeah, he secrets this hormone on a whim and boom, bitches go mad for his dick."
"Oh." You swallowed, turned to push the handle of another door, leading to a darkened room fit for a king. "I think this is his room."
Butcher muttered behind you, "Lucky guy if you ask me."
"Trouble getting women, Butcher?" you asked absentmindedly as you entered the dark room, lights from the lawn outside filtering milky-white through the windows, illuminating your path like a trail of snow.
Butcher followed, closing the door behind you. "Not really," he answered, immediately pulling cubbards and drawers open. "The ladies love me."
"Oh, yeah I bet," you muttered, pulling open the wardrobe. A loose floorboard creaked loudly and you froze, turning to meet Butcher's eye.
He scrambled to where you stood, pressing on the floor and repeating the awful creaking sound.
"Pants jizzer must be keeping the V under his floor," he mumbled, pressing until at least 6 floorboards rose from the ground on one end, a whole door to the underside of the Seducer's floor.
"Bingo," you giggled, helping Butcher pull the damn thing open. But there was nothing there, only an empty black space that could've fit maybe two people, gaping at you like a dark maw. "He must have transfered them," you whispered.
"Or he's trafficking other things," Butcher replied darkly.
Just as you were about to close the floorboards, a loud thud rang out in the antechamber. You froze, listening, until a feminine giggle made you and Butcher lock eyes.
"Get in," he whispered, motioning to the black pit under your knees.
"In here!?" you whispered tightly.
Whoever was on the other side was making their way towards the room, painstakingly, and this was not the place you and Butcher needed to be found.
"Yes, fuck, get in," he insisted, and your heart thudded so loudly, so harshly against your throat you thought it would burst right out through your chest.
Shaking, you got into the little space, falling onto your back because you couldn't see where this thing ended. As soon as you got your hair out of your eyes, Butcher was tumbling onto you, closing the floorboards a millisecond before the bedroom door burst open.
Sound was immediately muffled, like being underwater, and the only thing you could hear was your breathing. Butcher's breathing over you. Your heart in your throat, nauseating you, the adrenaline rushing like a flood in your veins.
Butcher's chest heaving against yours, the entire length of him pressed up on you like a heavy blanket.
"Get off," you whispered, feeling the heat of his forearm next to your head.
"There's no space," he grumbled, his voice catching on your cheek, your neck, as he tried to maneuver himself every which way that meant he wasn't pressed up on you, but he was just so damn big, like hiding with a grizzly bear, that whenever he tried to move, he just ended up being half on and half off you.
"Fuck it," he grumbled, pressing one hand under your thigh, wrenching a gasp from your throat as he placed himself comfortably between your legs.
The pressure of him on your bare bottom half made you freeze, heart hammering like an angry drum against your ribcage. The way you were positioned, thighs wide open, knees bent each side of his waist, made the skimpy little skirt bundle up onto your tummy, leaving you completely bare.
"Hush up, little thing," Butcher whispered in your ear, holding himself up on his forearms as not to crush the breath out of you. But his voice was wretched, pulled and tight, no doubt reacting to the heat he could feel through the thin fabric of his swim shorts.
The noise overhead intensified; a moan, a few garbled words, thudding.
"They're going to do it while he lie here," you whispered, hands balled up by your sides.
Butcher chuckled silently, breath fanning your neck. "So we really are voyeurs."
You smiled, holding back a giggle until a heavy thud caught your attention and the voices suddenly got a bit clearer. They were right over you.
A woman's voice floated through. "How ever I can serve you, Seducer."
The last word made your insides coil in fear. It looked like this woman was answering a command from the Seducer himself, the man who owned this house, who trafficked all the V and worked with Vought.
"Fuck," Butcher muttered. "This is worse than I thought."
"Why?" you asked silently, your fingers trembling against your thighs.
You felt him bend forward, his body tight like a rod. "This is going to hurt, love."
And just as you were about to ask what he was about to do, a soft pang echoed in your lower belly, like someone had tied a rope to your bellybutton and pulled. You squirmed, the thudding overhead leading back to the bed.
The pulling again, making you heave in a breath, squeeze your eyes shut. "No, no, no," you muttered, feeling an ache build between your legs, a force pull through your veins like molten honey.
The Seducer was using his power. And it wasn't just affecting the woman he was with... it was starting to affect you.
You felt yourself clench on nothing but air when the ache throbbed against your clit, like an invisible vacuum seal had closed over it, and you lifted your hips off the floor slightly.
Butcher immediately grabbed your hip, bringing you back down forcibly, sending a new wave of heat, of ache, of hurt through your body just at the touch of his bare fingers on your bare hip.
"Don't," he breathed, his word clipped. "Don't do that."
He could feel the heat of you through his shorts, just how impossibly hot you were, probably dripping from the Seducer's power, and the little control he exhibited around you was pulling quite taut.
"It hurts, Butcher," you gritted through your teeth, hands settling on his shoulders for support as another wave of need, of painful, painful need, throbbed through your body like a pulsing nuclear explosion. Your legs tightened around his waist, nails digging into the fabric of his Tommy Bahama. "Make it stop," you pleaded, heaving, throwing your head back, bucking your hips to get the pain to stop. Just stop.
Butcher huffed, cradling your face, his insides in turmoil with his brain. God had given him such a gift right now, a chance to take you, mark you as his, finally fuck that perfect little body--and he didn't know if he was man enough to stop himself.
You groaned in pain, subconsciously grinding your bare pussy against his thigh, searching for any kind of friction, of relief. Your skin was so hot, sweat beading your forehead as you braced through another wave of this unknown ache, throbbing relentlessly against your clit, deep inside you, just grazing your g-spot.
Your fingers balled into fists against his shirt, your face finding his chest, and you sobbed, "Make it stop, Butcher, please, it hurts."
You weren't aware that your hips had started grinding against his thigh, the knee he'd placed between your legs for leverage. And just the fact that he could feel his shorts getting soaked had him straining against the stitches of his sanity.
"There's only one way," he breathed against your ear. You sobbed, heaving, breathing raggedly, grinding so hard on his knee it was almost pathetic. "Are you sure you want to try?" he asked, voice trembling.
You sniffed, hung onto his neck for dear life. "Please, anything, this is--ah--this is unbearable."
He bent his head, mumbled for God to forgive him, and then pressed a deep, hard kiss on your lips, pressing you back into the floor completely. Somewhere above him, he heard a woman moan loudly, but the only thing that registered to him was the way you clung to him like a pawing animal.
A strangled moan, quiet and restrained, left your throat, caught behind your teeth as he ravaged your mouth.
"N-no," you mumbled. "No."
He pulled away, kissing your jaw, your neck until your were humping his thigh like a woman gone mad.
"This the only way, little Truthteller," he murmured in your ear, dragging his knee away and feeling your entire body go stiff against him.
A whine, like delicious music, lifted to his ear and he groaned inwardly. He had to convince himself he was doing it for you, but half of him was delighted at the idea of finally having you. Like a meal he'd been mouth-watering over for some time, and now it was fresh and warm right in front of him.
"I need," you muttered, groaning through another wave of the Seducer's power, your hips bucking into nothing. "I need..."
"You need to cum, little dove," Butcher whispered, caressing the side of your face and you shook your head.
"No."
"Yes, love," he muttered, tracing the line of your neck, down your chest until he softly cupped your breast.
A quiet moan rippled along your throat like a symphony to his ears. He played with your hard nipple through the fabric until he pushed it aside and replaced his thumb with the warmth of his mouth.
"Fuck," you whispered, pushing against his shoulders. "This is wrong." Your voice was so thin.
Butcher lapped at your nipple like an ice cream cone. "Want me to do this to your pretty little pussy?" he mumbled, and the crass words sent a hot wave of need pulsing painfully between your legs.
His other hand skimmed down your side, over the swell of your hip, and down to where you needed him most.
When he swiped a slow finger across your soaked folds, the grunt that left him was purely predatory. "You're so fucking wet," he whispered, to the accompanying sound of your panting. He brushed his thumb across your clit, holding you down as you jolted, flicking his tongue against your nipple.
"Butcher, please," you begged.
"Billy, love," he whispered, raising his head to kiss the corner of your mouth, brushing his thumb against your clit once more to capture your gasp in his kiss. "Call me Billy."
You gripped onto his shoulders, feeling the wide, powerful muscle of his right hand playing with you.
He pressed three fingers flat against you and you bucked, searching for more, as he circled slowly, starting you off.
"Say it," he commanded quietly, circling your clit faster.
"Billy," it came out as a whine and he groaned lowly, capturing your lips and kissing down your throat. The way his fingers played you like a harp wrenched a pornographic moan from your throat and immediately, Billy put a hand over your mouth, the skin between his thumb and forefinger snug under your nose.
"Quiet for me, little Truthteller," he whispered.
He moved his fingers to your entrance and slipped one in so easily it was almost embarrassing. He cooed at you, gliding his finger in and out so slowly it was almost arrogant. "So fucking wet, this perfect little hole."
You keened, squeezing your eyes shut at his crude words, searching for more friction until the heel of his hand pressed snuggly against your clit.
Your hips moved on their own, bucking against his hand as he pumped his finger, faster and faster until your pants turned into hyperventilating and your legs started to close around his hips.
"Got my whole hand drenched, pretty love," he whispered. "That perfect little cunt can handle another finger?"
You preened against his hand, your sounds muffled against his large, meaty palm and he chuckled at you.
The second finger was a tighter fit, his thick digits spreading you and squelching into you slowly.
"Ah, there's my girl," he moaned in your ear. "Fucking my fingers like a good girl."
You wanted to tell him to quit teasing, to bring you to orgasm as quickly as possible because the heat stirring under your skin was insatiable, but you didn't understand how much Billy was enjoying himself. He didn't know when he'd get a chance to have you so willingly spread open for him again, or if he'd ever get the chance again. So he savored this moment like a dying man's last meal.
He let you adjust to his fingers, fucking them into you, palming your clit before he thrust in another finger, opening you wide to him. You gurgled against his hand, muffled moans and pleas stuck behind his palm.
He didn't miss just how tight you were around his fingers, how snug and warm. "So tight, my little love," he cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out slowly, enjoying the way your hips bucked.
The sloppy sounds of your cunt sucking on his fingers drove you mad and a hot, painful knot formed in your belly, pulling and tugging at your insides.
He felt you trembling, your orgasm on the horizon, and he lifted his hand off your mouth, capturing your lips in a warm, sloppy kiss.
"Want you to cum with my name in your mouth," he mumbled, almost incoherent in his chase for your climax. He pressed his thumb to your mouth, opening it, listening to your panting, your quiet moans as he fucked his fingers into your cunt, pressing down on your clit, rubbing it with his palm.
"Billy," you breathed. "Billy. Billy." Like a mantra, a prayer.
"That's it, my pretty girl," he whispered, thumb on your tongue, fingers fucking your pussy until that knot in your bely tightened impossibly and your legs went numb. "Cum my pretty dove, gush all over my hand, come on now."
He grunted against you, and somehow, that guttural, manly sound made stars explode in your belly and you came, shuddering his name quietly, over and over and over until the pleasure had seeped out of your veins and you crumbled back to the floor. You felt his fingers slip out of you, his wet hand pull your knee apart, press against the meat of your thigh, spreading you wide, wide open.
He slithered down your body like a snake, pushing you up against the confines of this box until you felt the warm breath of him against your clit. When he lapped at you, humming around your hole like a satiated man, you mumbled his name, searching with your hands until you grabbed onto the thick strands of his hair. Panting, you mumbled his name again.
"Just having a taste, love," he mumbled, sucking on your over-sensitive clit until the heat came blasting through you again, all over, like you were under the Seducer's spell again.
"Fuck," you gritted, biting your lip, caging in the awfully loud, guttural moan that wanted to spring free.
Billy grabbed onto your hips, holding them down, his forearm over your belly like an anchor.
"One more, little Truthteller," he mumbled, flicking your clit with his tongue, his beard scraping on the inside of your sensitive thighs.
"Billy, please," you whined softly.
"Always wanted a taste," he said. Not a lie. "Always wanted to tongue-fuck this perfect hole." Not a lie.
He pressed his tongue flat to your clit, sucked and nibbled on it until he pressed his tongue right into your cunt, fucking you with his tongue like he'd promised. The mix of his hot breath, his tongue inside your walls, his thumb working on your clit made all your senses flush full of adrenaline. Bucking against his face, you rode his mouth until another flash burst through you and you came all over his face, grinding down on his nose until the last waves of your orgasm had left you.
When he climbed back over, kissing your belly, your nipple, covering you with his warmth, you were just a numb shell of the girl you were when you walked in here.
Billy kissed your jaw, your neck, stroking your hair as you regained your senses.
Whoever had been overhead had gone. It was completely silent. And it left you wondering if that last wave of need had been the Seducer's spell or Billy's.
"We should go, love," he whispered. "Before I stuff you full of my cock and have you cumming on it for the third time."
His filthy mouth brought you back to your body, cold and sweaty and oh so comfortable with two orgasm singing in your veins.
"Yeah," you whispered as Billy pushed the trap door open, peaking out to make sure the coast was clear, and then hopping out. He helped you out with his hand, gentle and calm, smoothing down your hair, covering your nipple, patting down your two-inch skirt.
"I've made a real good mess of you, love, eh?" he chuckled, standing and taking your hand. "Was I a good pet?"
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pretty-circa006 · 6 months ago
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Sex Ed
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Coach! Negan x Student! F! Reader summary You have some follow up questions after Coach Negan's sex ed class tags student teacher relationship, age gap (reader is 18 negan is like pushing 40?), blowjob, pet names
wc: 1.9k
note i tried a little something new when writing this, can you tell what it is?
*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *
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Negan glowers at the students of his gym class sitting in the bleachers before him. They're all laughing like fools and making crude jokes that only displayed their immaturity. Seniors, they were supposed to be, but a majority of them acted like foolish middle schoolers.
"Listen up you dumb little sacks of shit!" he shouts. The students all quiet down, some getting startled by the loudness of his voice before doing so.
"I know a majority of you kids, well, technically young adults, are too immature to handle this shit, but the displeasure of teaching it to you has unfortunately been bestowed upon me." He slams his large hand on the whiteboard on wheels, bringing his students' focus to the topic of today's lesson; sex ed. His hazel-green eyes scan his audience with distain, daring them to say anything stupid- nobody did, which is a relief. But that relief instantaneously turned into dread when his eyes landed on her. From her seat in the center of the bleachers, she stares at Negan while seductively biting her finger and giving him sultry bedroom eyes.
He sighs to himself, quickly averting his gaze. She was always, always looking at him like that. Like she's an apex predator and he's the prey she'd been stalking, waiting to pounce and feast on his flesh. At first, it freaked him out, constantly feeling her eyes boring into his skin. But it quickly became flattering to know he had a little admirer. She's always the first to his class, the first to pay attention to him, the last to leave, and the only student to frequent his office. If that's all she did, she would have been just been a girl with an innocent little crush. But her crush was anything but little or innocent. He should have been able to realize that when she'd show up to every gym class in the world's tiniest shorts. If not then, he should at least have noticed when she'd spend excessive amounts of time in his office. He brushed all that off, though, assuming the shorts weren't for him and that she just liked his office for the air conditioning and bowl of candy on his desk.
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The lesson went by fairly smooth. Not many stupid joked were cracked, which was a win for Negan.
"Grab a complementary condom on your way out," he says as students get up from the bleachers, "and if you have any extra questions, you can come see me." He internally cringes at that last part. The internet was a thing and if students wanted to know something, they should look it up themselves instead of prolonging this awkward moment for him. But he had to do at least the bare minimum of what his job required him to do.
Thankfully, the students were just filing past him, some stopping to grab handfuls of condoms, and none of them stop to talk to him. The gymnasium is finally empty without a student in sight. Negan's honestly surprised she didn't stick around after class like she usually did, but he couldn't complain. He pushes his whiteboard back into his office and shuts the door behind him, ready to wind down and catch up on some work.
"Hey Coach."
"Jesus H. fuckin' Christ, kid!" A startled Negan shouts, hand clutching his heart. He finally notices the girl sitting at his desk in his chair with her feet propped up comfortably on the desk. He can't keep his eyes from scanning her legs, the smooth skin fully exposed from upper thigh to ankle.
She lets out a little giggle before her face returns to that usual seductive look.
"I had a question 'bout today's lesson," she tells him. Negan sighs and rubs a hand down his face, anticipating something wildly inappropriate to come from her mouth.
"Goddammit, kid, what is it?" he asks hesitantly.
"First off, stop calling me kid. I am eighteen," she explains, holding up a finger. "Second," she puts up another finger, "I want you to teach me something."
"That's not a question." She rolls her eyes at him and takes her feet off the desk.
"Will you teach me to give a blowjob?" Negan's eyebrows shoot up at the same time his eyes widen. She's dead serious too, looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. Those same eyes drift from his down to the growing bulge in his gym shorts. She squeezes her thighs together and bites her lip.
"Darlin', you do know that what you're askin of me is wildly fuckin' inappropriate, right?" He's supposed to be serious, but the dimpled smirk on his face sends another message.
"You're supposed to be teaching sex ed, ain't ya?" she argues. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, only riling up the oversexed girl even more.
"Inappropriateness aside, you couldn't handle all this," he says, motioning to his growing boner.
A smug smile makes its way across her face. She gets out of his chair, kneels in front of it, and pats the cushion, silently demanding him to take a seat. He takes a peak at her cute little ass that her tiny gym shorts were barely doing anything to cover. He figures that if he gives in to her demands, she'll realize that she, in fact, cannot handle what he's packing and will back off. He didn't particularly want her to shy away from him, but her forward behavior would pose a threat to his job sooner or later and he's not eager to get fired.
Fuck it. He locks the door to his office and sits in his chair. She's looking up at him through her long lashes, excitement radiating off of her.
"Well, ya can't suck my fuckin' dick through my fuckin' shorts."
"Oh. Right!" Her shaky hands reach toward the waistband of his gym shorts and he lifts his hips so she can pull them down just enough to free his cock. She lets out a little gasp when the large member springs up and slaps his abdomen. For the first time, her seductive, siren-like facade starts to slip, revealing a nervous, inexperienced girl. With a smug smirk on his face, he looks down at her. She talked so much game, but when it came time to play, she didn't even know how.
"I...I asked you to teach me, didn't I?!" she squeaks. She's embarrassed at how dumb she's sure she looks and even more so at the fact Negan's getting a kick out of this.
"Spit in your hand, doll. Then stroke it a few times," he instructs. She apprehensively spits a glob of saliva into her palm before gently wrapping her hand around him. She's mesmerized by his size, so thick her fingers couldn't touch. As she shyly moves her hand up and down his shaft, she occasionally glances up at him in search for his approval. There is none. He's unamused as he watches her. His wraps his larger hand around her smaller one and squeezes it tighter around his dick.
"Gotta put more presser than that, sweetheart, 'cause I can't feel a damn thing."
She nods her head and he removes his hand, letting her try again on her own. With her hand wrapped more tightly around his cock, she can feel every ridge of his veins rubbing against her fingers. Negan lets out a seemingly satisfied sigh which encouraged her to go faster. Her mouth makes an 'o' shape when she sees precum leaking from his reddening tip. She impulsively brings her head down to him and experimentally kitten licks the precum, before taking the entire tip into her mouth. She looks up at him again, but he's already looking down at her with lust darkened eyes.
"Go on, baby, you can fit more of me in that sweet little mouth of yours," he taunts. She lowers her head until his tip makes contact with the back of her throat, but even then he's not all the way in. His thick, throbbing member fills her mouth, resting heavily on her tongue. With more confidence, she begins bobbing her head up and down. Negan's hand grips a handful of her hair and stops her.
"Don't use your teeth," he corrects her. She chokes a 'sorry,' out from around his cock, the vibration from it feeling good. In her effort to not use any teeth, she hollows her cheeks, the spongy flesh of their insides caressing Negan as she bobs her head. With the hand that's still gripping her hair, Negan forces her to go a little faster, but doesn't push her all the way down on his cock. She picks up the pace on her own, causing Negan's grip to relax.
"That's it, darlin', you're takin' my cock so fuckin' good right now." Her nails dig into his thighs as she continues despite the pain in her tired jaw. His praise sends a wave of heat directly to her core causing her neglected cunt to clench over nothing. But his praise wasn't enough. She wants to hear his pleasure, to hear him moan and come undone in her mouth. She forces the remaining inches of him down her throat, but she immediately regrets it when she gags around him. But she's already in too deep and wouldn't dare dream of quitting now.
"Holy fuckin' shit, doll!" he pleasurably groans, "you are a goddamn dick suckin' natural!" She can feel him twitch inside her mouth, a telltale sign that he's close. Her own cunt throbs, despite receiving no attention. Both of his hands grip her hair as his restraints come undone and begins fucking her face. Exasperated profanities and moans fall from his mouth as she takes him so well.
"Want me to cum inside your throat, doll?" He gets out between pants. She hums an 'mmm hmm' as she tries to move in time with his thrusts. His head falls back against the chair and eyes slightly roll back as his hips rut into her mouth, burying her nose in his dark curls. As he shoots his hot load into her mouth, a guttural moan claws its way out of his throat.
He pulls his softening dick from her mouth and tucks it back into his shorts. He leans down and grabs her jaw so he can admire her pretty, cock drunk face. The trails of dark mascara tears dried on her cheeks and her lips are slightly swollen and her hair is a mess. She looks perfect.
"Open," Negan commands. She opens her mouth, showcasing to Negan his cum resting on her tongue.
"Now swallow." She does and maintains eye contact with him the whole time.
"That's my good fuckin' girl," he praises, causing heat to spread on her cheeks and down to her pussy. She stands up, using the desk behind her as support. Her knees are slightly bruised, a delicious sight to Negan.
"Thanks for teaching me, Coach," she says, her tone slightly teasing.
"Yeah, alright. I gave you want you fuckin' wanted, so get outta my goddamn office." He means what he said, despite how playful he sounded.
"But wait," she says stepping closer to him. He raises an eyebrow in response as she grabs his hand and brings it close. She puts his large hand in between her legs, forcing him to feel how wet he made her. He looks up at her , his face morphing into a dark smirk.
"Don't you wanna return the favor, Coach?"
note and the answer is....present tense! i wrote this in present tense instead of my usual preferred past tense. thoughts?
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slashersidewhore · 1 year ago
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Slashers! First meeting their S/O
Slashers! x gn!reader
Includes Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair
Requested? Yes
Warnings: beefy murder boyfriends, fluffy shit, pre-relationship stuff, love at first sight, mentions of murder/gore/malicious intentions, violence
Michael Myers
It was Halloween night, dark eyes through holes in a white, cast of a mask staring through the second story window of an old, decrepit house
A young boy skipping by as in a blue, capped superhero, an older couple strolling on the opposite street, arm in arm minding their own in the breezy night
Eyes cast downward as the sharp ring of a doorbell shot through the old bones of the house, glint of a butchers knife tight in the grasp of the man know silently making his way through the upper hall
“Are we even supposed to be going in here?”
“Who cares, it’s tradition to check out the Myers mansion, relax”
“I don’t know, this feels wrong..”
Listening to what seemed to be two young adult, the shrill voice of one of them almost instantly striking the silent man with a headache
Michael watched from the shadows as the pair came into view, the louder of the two wearing her hair in tight pigtails, a cheerleader outfit splattered with what was obviously fake blood, a bad attempt at a murder victim
Ready to lumber from the darkness and strike down on the intruders, the man was struck to the spot he stood as you came into view, wearing another poorly, and clearly last minute, thrown on pirate costume
You were what he imagined when the perfect kill was dreamt, your face burned into his as your pictured screams of fear and pain died as did your fighting spirit, the knife once again tightened in his grip, knuckles turning a pale white, veins pulsing beneath taut skin
He wanted, no, needed to kill you
Even the thought alone send a bold chill of excitement through the otherwise lifeless body of his
“You know what would be so funny-“
The girl in pigtails spoke as she flipped around the corner, the voice shrinking in her throat quickly morphing in a scream of terror as she bumped into the large, awaiting body of the infamous Michael Myers
Although her scream was also short lived as a rough hand was immediately around her throat, lifting her from her feet and slamming her back into the adjacent wall breath knocked from her body at the impact
His other hand rose, moonlight catching the long, silver blade as it was plunged deep into her stomach, twisting, turning as her throat gave up on its scream, another shriek caused the killers head to twist like an owl
There you stood, frozen in place with hands partly covering your mouth, eyes wide, not shaking, not running, just watching as the man before you brutalized your friend
But as your eyes caught each others in the dimly lit hallway, Michaels grasp on the now corpse released, body hitting the floor with a dull thud he didnt bother to pull the knife from its placed nestled between dead flesh, not even glancing down at it
Your hands slowly fell from your face, still not shaking, but clearly stressed with sweat as you wiped your hands on the fabric covering your thighs
“I’m, sorry for breaking in”
Your voice was soft, careful but not disingenuous, Michael didn’t know how to react, unable to look away or even move
His head tilted to the left, mask bunching at the bottom, he turned on his heel and made his exit through the rickety wooden door leading to the backyard, leaving the body, knife, and you alone in the corridor
As his walk through the brisk night air flooded under the neck of his mask, the killer could feel his normally emotionless face scrunch with confusion
If hearing you scream in fear wasn’t what he thought he wanted from you, then what did he want from you?
He would have to investigate this sudden curiosity closely
Jason Voorhees
Jason was tirelessly indulging the day by sitting on the end of his cabins patio, watching the slow turn of various wild animals go by
There weren’t any campers to keep him busy, nor screams and boisterous laughter of teens trying to get their rocks off on the property, just the hum of June bugs and trees swaying beneath the gentle breeze of warm weather
That was until a shrill yelp drilled into Jason’s eardrums, bothered by the distraction from his day of calm, the man stood with shoulders squared, grabbing the awaiting machete perched against one of the patios wooden posts
Marching through the dense woods, his boots crushed leaves as he made he way to the noise from minutes earlier, hoping whoever it was was far gone
“Oh my god”
Of course they weren’t though, of course whoever this was decided to stupidly wander onto private property, clearly posted in writing on multiple trees and wire fences
Although Jason hesitated when he heard something he’d never had the pleasure of catching
“You poor thing, here I am breaking the law because of you”
Peeking from behind the thick trunk of a large oak, Jason was surprised to see a stranger kneeling in the dirt, fingers and palms cut up with minor wounds as they attempted to unwind a helpless rabbit that seemed to have gotten itself rolled in loose barbed wire
Not minding to worry about yourself, you winced as another barb caught your finger, slicing the thin flesh there as the rabbit was freed, trotting away without a care in the world
“Okay, now which way did I come in from?”
You wondered aloud, turning on your heel to go back the direction you think you came from, hoping in get back on the hiking trail you’d left behind
Jason merely watched with confusion, no malice or really any thought behind his eyes other than the urge to, protect you, from what he wasn’t sure
But he knew for certain, you weren’t someone he’d be able to forget
Thomas Hewitt
Let’s get one thing straight, Thomas doesn’t enjoy killing, him and his family was forced into it by Hoyt and his insatiable urge to feed and “care” for everyone
Most victims were easy to kill, treating him like a monster, screaming in his face curses and insults as they went out
Others he had a harder time with, the ones that just cry, plead with him for their life, promise they won’t tell the police if he lets them go
That being said, he’s never failed to kill, not once since he’s begun
That is until one summer day, when a knock at the door caught Luda Mae by surprise, wiping her wet hands on a dish towel and headed to the front door
Eyes narrowed, the older woman opened the door to reveal a young adult, you, standing there with a shy smile gracing your features, you held a pair of car keys in one hand, the other free to reach up and rub nervously at the back of your neck
“I’m sorry to bother you and, whoever else is home, but my car broke down a mile out, and I’m unable to reach anyone on my cell”
Luda Maes confusion turned to soft pity, a reserved grin taking over her lips as she moved to the left, a hand beckoning you in
“Well dear, there’s a phone in the kitchen, if you’d like I can call the towns auto shop while you wait in the living room”
Although still shaken from being practically dropped in the middle of nowhere Texas, you made your way graciously inside, thanking the woman with kind praise as you did so
Taking a seat on one of the two sofas available, your ankles crossed as you stared down at one of the keychains dangling from your car keys
You could hear the woman in the kitchen shuffling around, although you weren’t sure if you could hear anyone speaking to anyone on the phone
Curious, you slowly stood, palms sweaty as you now took a few steps from the living room, now able to hear Luda Mae speaking on the low to someone, then the sound of a corded phone clicking into its place on the wall
Heart slowing as you realized you were just being paranoid, you quickly turned on your heel to find your way back to the couch, although your trip was cut short by your feet crossing over one another, about to fall on your face when a two large hands steadied your shoulder
Gazing up, your breath caught in your throat at the absolute behemoth of a man now standing before you, a leather mask covering the bottom half of his face, thick brows furrowing as you simply continued to stare with wonder up at him
“Thank you”
Was all you could manage, voice catching as you realized your body was practically pressed up against his
“There you are dear, oh look I see you’ve met my youngest boy Tommy”
Luda Mae spoke as she entered the room, knowing look on her face as she coyly added fuel to the current fire
Pulling yourself up right and out of Thomas’ grasp, your hot face was focused on the older woman in hopes the man wouldn’t notice your sudden fluster
“Unfortunately our only truck is out with my other son, so I was thinking my boy here could be so kind as to walk you to the auto shop, you’ll be safe with him, promise”
You didn’t notice the way Thomas’ eyes followed you, too focused on thinking about being alone with a man as attractive as the one quietly standing beside you
“You’re not worried are you?”
Luda seemed to test you, but it went right over your head as you shook your head no
“He seems very reliable”
You smiled up at Thomas, unable to catch the skip in his chest as you did so
Luda Mae could only grin at the sight, ready to call up Hoyt and tell him to leave this stranger alone, as she could see a future blooming before her eyes
Vincent Sinclair
Vincent wasn’t one to leave his studio unless absolutely necessary, and even in those cases he didn’t, it wasn’t pleasant for the man
Until Bo brought home a guest, someone shaking and blindfolded as he manhandled the poor soul, although the stranger wasn’t screaming nor fighting, it was as if they’d completely given up, or knew it wouldn’t help
Vincent watched silently as his brother forced you to the ground, your knees surely hurting as they made contact with the hard, concrete floor
“Do you know what happens to people that wander where they don’t belong?”
Bo questioned menacingly, although he had a playful glint in his eye Vincent had never seen before
Silently creeping up behind his twin, the long haired man narrowed his eyes as he scanned what he could see in the dim, candle lit room of your face
The obvious old, dried tears that had found their way down your cheeks were still shining, creating lines over your soft skin
You looked to be carved of marble, painted with delicate strokes and framed with care, you were a work of art, and he hadn’t even seen your eyes yet
Placing a deft hand on Bo’s shoulder, the two exchanged looks, the shorter haired twin groaning in annoyance, although that look from before was still in his eye
Right as he was turning to take his leave, he leaned closer to Vincent, whispering to him as he passed
“I took one glance and knew you’d like them, guess I was right”
Then he was gone, foot steps disappearing as he left up the basement stairway
Vincent cautiously walked closer to you, noticing how you flinched back a bit when he made a move to pull your blindfold up, doing it slowly as to not startle you
Your watery eyes fell on his masked face, brows furrowing slightly as you glanced around the room
Vincent’s mouth soured at the idea that you were looking for Bo, of course you would be, what new comer in town wasn’t, until
“Is that man from before gone?”
You’d whispered, and if your sweet voice didn’t send Vincent into a flutter of strange emotions, your next words at the nod of, “yes”, Vincent gave you did
“Good, he scares me”
He merely nodded, unsure of how to act
“Is he going to come back?”
Vincent shrugged
Your shifted so you were sitting, wincing at the ache in your legs, eyes nervous but no longer afraid, you looked to the silent man before you
“Will you, stay here if he comes back?”
Vincent had never been so quick to nod a, “yes”
Sorry I’ve been gone for so long, but I’m back now! I’m working on what is currently in my requests but feel free to send in more!
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^ me returning after being inactive for 6 months
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