#((do not ask either of these two questions they have no idea about simple answers))

[hyperionshipping]

Couple ask game: 2 and 9 for you and Kayne?

What are your pet names for each other?

Tricks: Pet names for...? For HIM? I don't- I don't call anyone a pet name. I don't have time.

Kayne: Avoiding the question? Oh, how typical! Well, I'll answer then. "Demon. That thing. Love." [He winks]

Tricks: You've called me none of those.

Kayne: That you've heard!

---

What was your first impressions of each other?

Tricks: Th--

Kayne: Oh! Oh, oh, oh! It was a sneaky little thing. I almost didn't notice it. You blend right in don't you? It was blocking MY view. Aren't we just made for each other?

Tricks: [It glares at Kayne] My first impressions of him were... They- I thought that- [It pauses, thinking of what words to say.]

Kayne: I knew Tricks liked me from the start. I mean, why spend so often thinking about me if you DON'T, hmm? [He laughs]

Tricks: You're like a schoolboy! Tease, tease, tease. You know, Arthur and John are in a tight situation. Don't you have to pay attention to them? I think something's wrong with dear old John, Kayne. Didn't you do something?

Kayne: Oh! I was only helping. I mean, he needed it! Another stomach wound. It was real nasty. [Kayne shivers. From the look on Tricks' face, its disgusted. As though it knows Kayne is enjoying the memory far too much.] Poor John, without his light. Why, it's a story for the ages darling! You know this!

Tricks: ....Right. I'm done here. I have to go.

[starmocha]

fly to you like birds do Sylus/Reader | 2642 words | AO3 Sylus can't sleep A/N: I have no idea what happened. It was supposed to be just smut, but I guess we’re sandwiching the smut between some fluff instead. ¯_(ツ)_/¯ MDNI

It was well past two in the morning when Sylus stepped out of the shower, water droplets still clinging to his hair. He dried himself and slipped on just a pair of simple burgundy pajamas bottom. There was a heat wave outside, and though the air conditioner was running inside his home, Sylus still felt restless. He returned to his room, still tensed, knowing sleep was not going to be in his favor tonight.

He stopped in his track when he heard his phone ringing. How peculiar, he thought, considering the time. Stepping closer to his bed, he saw your picture and name flashed up on the screen. Smiling, he answered, turning on the speaker:

“Is this my pretty little hunter calling me?”

There was a brief moment of awkward silence before he heard your voice: “I dialed by mistake.”

“I’m sure you did,” he responded cordially, humoring you in spite of seeing through the thinly-veiled fib. He placed the phone on the nightstand and climbed into bed under satin cover. The sound of your voice instantly calmed him, and he continued, “It’s two in the morning. Why are you still up?”

Silence followed his question again. Sylus frowned. “Hello?”

“I’m hanging up,” you declared, tone a pitch higher than intended, clearly embarrassed by this whole situation.

“Wait,” Sylus interrupted before you could end the call. He continued, “Don’t. Chat with me.”

“It’s two in the morning,” you echoed his earlier words back to him, “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“I can’t sleep,” he admitted, and then with a sly grin, he continued, “Maybe you could help me.”

There were slight shuffling noises on your end before you answered, confused, “How?”

“We can chat until we’re tired,” he said, turning to his side to face the phone. “We can start with why you called me in the first place, and don’t bother trying to lie to me again.”

You sighed, knowing you were never good at hiding things, especially from him. You admitted softly, “I can’t sleep either.”

“And your first thought was to call me? I’m touched.” He laughed when he heard your flustered voice on the other end. “Alright, alright, calm down, I was only teasing.”

“I don’t appreciate it,” you grumbled.

“My apologies then. Won’t you forgive me, Miss Hunter?”

“I think not.”

He hummed softly in amusement at your defiance. “Perhaps you would feel better if you punish me then.”

“Eh?”

“I have clearly wronged you,” he said, voice tinged with humor, “it is only right that I should be punished for my misdeed.”

Sylus could hear you talking quietly to yourself, clearly contemplating his words. He laughed softly to himself as he stared at his phone, picturing you in your apartment flabbergasted by the direction of this phone call. “Alright, time’s up,” he spoke up to your shocked gasp, “I gave you plenty of time to think, so unless…”

“Meow for me.”

“Pardon?”

“Meow for me and I’ll forgive you.”

Sylus chuckled, confused. “Are you serious?” he shook his head and questioned you again, “You are asking the leader of Onychinus to…meow?”

“Uh huh,” you answered, this time pleased with yourself for reducing this powerful man to a state of utter bewilderment. “Please?”

He sighed. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he paused, and then he cleared his throat, “Meow.”

There was a pause. Sylus couldn’t hear anything other than the air conditioner running in his home, and just as he was about to check in on you, you spoke up with a squeal:

“You purred.”

“Is that not what cats do?”

“Well, yes. But. You purred.”

“We’ve established that already,” he said evenly, unsure of why this was making you so delighted. “Have I been forgiven?”

He smiled when he heard your giggle on the other end: “Yes, I’ve forgiven you.”

Sylus lay back down in bed, his eyes darting to the clock on his nightstand. He sighed. “It’s 2:35. Are you still restless?”

“Mm, yes,” you responded. “Are you tired? Do you want to go to sleep now?”

“I can’t sleep,” he reminded you again. “Then let’s continue. How was your day?”

Sylus lay there, listening to you describe your day, unbothered when you took too many tangents to get to a very anticlimactic ending of a very mundane story. He occasionally chimed in, but for the most part, he was more interested in just hearing your voice, listening to the subtle changes in tone and picturing your expression as you retold your day. He barely noticed you were done speaking until you called out to him, asking him about his own day.

“My day? Normal,” he answered vaguely.

“That’s cryptic.”

“Indeed,” he agreed, and you knew that was all you were going to get out of him.

“Sylus?”

“What is it?”

“What are you wearing?”

Sylus once again paused, surprised by the question that came out of left field. Once he composed himself, he smirked and answered, “Pajamas bottom. Should I also describe the color and material as well?”

“Please do.”

Sylus laughed and shook his head. “Burgundy and cotton.”

“Ah.”

Sylus raised a brow. “Not that I am complaining about this change in topic, but care to explain yourself, sweetheart?”

“I was curious,” you admitted in half-truth, “If I can picture what you are wearing, it would be like you are next to me right now.”

“How cute,” he cooed, unaware that he was making you blush with his voice, “Then may I ask what you are wearing, my dear?”

“An oversized shirt.”

“How unsexy,” he answered, disappointed.

“It’s yours.”

Oh. Well, that certainly changed everything, Sylus decided, intrigued now.

“My shirt?” The mental image of you in his shirt was definitely having an effect he didn’t realize it could. All wrapped up in his shirt, much too big for you, the sleeves too long, the length going down to your thighs—he was definitely appreciating the picture being painted in his mind. Sylus stifled back a groan, and continued in as even a voice as he could, “And how did you manage to obtain one of my shirts without my knowledge?”

“I took it from your place,” you confessed, “It was the one that I had accidentally spilled wine on, so I felt bad and tried to wash it out for you.”

“I appreciate the gesture, though I do have other shirts and it can easily be replaced.” He sensed your immediate quietness as a sign of embarrassment. He knew you did this as a sign of apology, and he quickly surmised his dismissive tone must have hurt your feelings, so he changed his phrasing: “Why haven’t you returned it to me then?”

“I haven’t had an opportunity,” you answered, tone dropping, a hint of sadness creeping through, “We haven’t seen each other lately.”

Ah. Sylus was catching on to the reason for this sudden late-night call. “And why are you wearing it now?”

Silence again.

“Sweetheart?”

That one word seemed to have broken a dam, and Sylus was surprised by the sudden quiet admission: “It feels like you.”

“You missed me,” he stated, and when he didn’t hear you respond, he wondered if his tone might have hurt you in some way again. He continued with a sigh, “I miss you, too.”

“Sylus…”

“I miss seeing you,” he added, knowing he was sounding a little more vulnerable than normal. “The sound of your voice…your smiles…the way…”

He paused, realizing the reason for his own restlessness. It wasn’t because of the heat wave happening throughout the city. Rather, it was the lack of a different kind of heat that was making him agitated.

“Sylus?”

“The way you feel in my arms,” he finished.

You didn’t respond, and Sylus laughed. “You’re blushing, aren’t you?”

“N-No!”

“Liar.”

He could hear you huffing in annoyance. Just as he was about to continue in his teasing, you hit him with another piece of information about your sleepwear:

“I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

“I-I see…” He paused, contemplating, before he questioned you, “Nothing? No—”

“No shorts. No panties.”

Well, that picture had unquestionably gotten even more interesting for Sylus. He held back another groan, as he pictured now just your bare body, caressed by nothing but just his shirt.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” you teased him, feeling triumphant for finally having the upper-hand in this phone conversation.

“Such arrogance,” he mumbled low, smirking, “Maybe you should take responsibility for making me so hard then.”

There was a surprised squeak.

He laughed low. “Come now, it’s only fair.”

“I-I don’t know…”

“Don’t know?”

“I…I don’t know how…I mean we’re just talking…”

Sylus leaned back against his pillows and laughed. “It’s because we’re talking that I am feeling this way now,” he answered low, his hands already tugging his bottoms down to discard to the side. He groaned softly at the sight of his erect penis. He continued, “Aren’t you feeling something from our conversation?”

“Y-yeah…” you admitted, “I…I think I am…”

He hummed softly, closing his eyes, the image of you in his shirt was once again before him.

“Need my pretty little cock-warmer,” he murmured, his hand wrapped around his hard member, a clear soft hiss escaped his lips. He lazily stroked himself as he continued to speak to you on the phone, his tone carrying shades of sensualness, “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You flustered. “I-I have been…”

“No,” he interrupted you firmly, “Talk to me.”

“I…”

“Touch yourself,” he commanded.

You trembled at the sound of his firm voice, the dominating tone made you hesitantly slipped your hand inside the shirt you were wearing, your hand finding your breast. You toyed with your nipple, whimpering as it became firm.

“Where are you touching yourself?”

“M-my breast…”

Sylus hummed again, eyes still closed, but now he was picturing his large hand on your breast, massaging it gently, pinching your nipple until they were firm as you moan softly underneath him. He wanted to take that nipple in his mouth and sucked on it as he massaged your other breast, wanted to feel you squirm against him, your hands running through his hair as he ravaged you and keep you held down by the heavy weight of his body on yours.

“Sweetheart…”

“Sylus…”

“Take off my shirt.”

You immediately obeyed him. “It’s…it’s off.”

“Good girl,” he purred. “Lay back in bed, picture me with you.”

His voice sounded like it was an octave lower, soft pants escaped his lips as he continued to leisurely stroke himself. “Need you spread out beneath me.”

You felt a heat building up inside you as you listened to him speak, that devilishly deep voice always stirring something sinful within you. With each erotic word spoken by him, you parted your legs slightly and your hand moved lower to touch yourself somewhere much more intimate.

“Want to feel just how wet you can get for me.”

You let out a whimper, picturing his sharp ruby red eyes staring you down, his own fingers touching you. You rubbed your clit, tossing your head to the side with a moan, wishing it was his hand instead touching you, needing his lips on you, the feel of him against you.

“Want to taste you, sweetheart, eat you out until you come.”

You gasped at the picture, your legs trembling as you started to touch yourself more urgently. It wasn’t enough. You needed something more, something bigger…thicker—Sylus.

“Ohh, Sylus…”

“F-fuck…” he groaned at the sound of your moan. “Sweetheart, a man could get intoxicated hearing such sweet moaning…”

“Sylus…”

“Speak to me…what do you want?”

“You…”

Sylus let out a low moan, his pace increasing. “Sweetheart,” he gasped, feeling his arousal getting stronger at the sound of your voice growing needier, “need my cock buried inside you. Need my sweet little cock-warmer in my bed under me.”

He continued to mumble, “You always take me so well, always feel so good having you wrapped around my cock.”

That did something to you. You started to gasp into the phone as you writhed in bed, fingers sliding into your slick entrance as you so badly wished it really was his cock pounding into you. You curled up in bed face buried into your pillow, as you chased after the climax that was starting to build up inside. You couldn’t help the whines that came out of your mouth, knowing he was hearing every single incoherent word and noise you were making alone in your room through the phone. “Sy-Sylus…more…tell me more…please…”

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he was panting, sounding like, he, too, was losing himself in the image he was painting, “Want to hear more of your sweet moans, ah, want to see your face all flushed, all teary-eyed, as I fuck you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Want to feel my cock inside you?”

“Oh, god, yes!” Your hips buck against your hand. You were close, the way he described everything with that deep, rich, and sultry voice was having you clench around your own fingers. You rubbed your sensitive clit, but the mental image that it was him touching you instead had you crying out louder than expected.

“Need you now, sweetheart,” he gasped, “Need you so fucking bad, need you to cum on my cock, need to fill you up with my seed—such a good girl, such a pretty girl you are all flushed up as you take all of me—cum, cum for me, sweetheart—”

Sylus let out a groan at the same time he heard you screamed through the phone, the sound of your climax had him spilling into his hand. He lay panting hard in bed, his eyes shut, reliving the moment he heard you scream. The knowledge that he was able to bring you to orgasm through a mere phone call was a source of pride, especially when the two of you were so far away.

Still, he ached, wanting to feel your skin against his. He wanted to pull you into his embrace and let you relax in his arms as you both bask in the afterglow together. He wanted to feel your head resting on his chest, your soft hair brushing against his cheek, his lips on yours.

He sighed.

Several minutes passed as the two of you tried to even your breathing again. Sylus was the first to speak up, his voice soft and gentler than normal, “It’s late. You should get some rest.”

“No,” you protested this time in spite of your exhaustion.

“No?” There was amusement in his voice upon hearing your objection. “Why not?”

You were grateful he couldn’t see your blush. At his gentle coaxing, you admitted softly, “I don’t want to hang up.”

“It’s late,” he reminded you again.

Hearing silence, Sylus could sense your disappointment and he softened. “Alright,” he conceded, “Do you want to keep talking? Normally this time.”

He heard an indignant yelp for the latter comment before it was followed by weak mumbling: “I don’t know what to talk about…”

“What do you want then? Tell me.”

After a few beats, you confessed softly, “I just want to hear your voice.”

Sylus was both surprised and pleased. “My voice?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, then,” he started, a hint of mischievousness laced his voice, “If that is what my dear little hunter wants, then who am I to deny her this sweet request? Shall I lull you to sleep with my voice then?”

Your felt butterflies fluttering in your belly as he spoke. You knew he was relishing in this moment, but as embarrassing as it was for you, you were happy that he was so compliant.

“Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he said warmly, and you obediently followed his command, setting your phone close to you as you relaxed in bed. “And just listen to the sound of my voice…”

[anadiasmount]

one dare, one kiss - jude bellingham blurb.

quick sum: when a game of truth or dare goes to plan, you’re faced with mixed feelings and your best friend questioning if there was more than what you two had…

wc: 2.2k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: this was small and simple, so i finished it!! hope everyone is okay after all this jude content because i sure am not going to stop talking about it ☺️ hope you enjoy! 🤍

it felt silly. the whole concept of the game. the spinning bottle. drinks laid everywhere. people laughing or messing around. at this age you shouldn’t be playing this but after they begged you, here you were sitting as you distracted yourself from everyone.

it started as a game of truth or dare, the dares consisting of calling an ex, posting on social media, eating or take a shot of something, having to read your messages or search history, all that. or also let the curiosity win the best of people and having people to answer truthfully when they saw the dares would be extreme. such a kid but also adult game once you grew up.

what started as a game of an innocent truth or dare, gradually turned into now a mix of that and spin the bottle. everyone was up for the thrill, knowing this was for pure fun and no feelings involved. while you were up for the idea, the hesitation always held you back, forcing yourself to just go along instead of leaving.

you chatted quietly with your friends, teasing one of them since they had a crush on a boy in the group. although at the start you found the game silly, now you cheered and felt your veins anticipating with nerves, not wanting the bottle to land on you. you knew you weren’t as experienced, and the last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself, especially if you picked dare.

jude couldn’t stop glancing at you, his eyes never leaving you as you enjoyed the party. was he only one who felt it? the tension? the feeling of desire to take things to the next level? to prove to you, that you didn’t need anyone else besides him? how he agreed this game was silly or couldn’t come to terms with his jealousy if he were to see you kiss someone else who wasn’t him…

jude wasn’t tipsy or drunk, but he felt like it anytime you looked or walked into a room. the ability of you to take his breath away in the smallest way possible, when you smiled, laughed, frowned, spoke, he was madly in love with you as a whole. longing to feel you next to him at all times.

jude bit the inside of his cheek, also feeling his heart race when he saw the empty casa blanco bottle slowly start to slow down. as soon as you saw it was jude’s turn, you felt your stomach turn in a displeased manner, hating the idea if you were to see him kiss any of your friends or a stranger.

you refused to look up, looking down at your nails and biting the inside of your lip as you waiting for the bottle to land on whoever it would. you felt it go slower than usually, testing your limits and patience because it was taking forever.

small gasps and yelps of cheers made you look up, jude staring at you with his lips slight agape. you looked around before looking down at the bottle facing directly at you. the game was childish, but you couldn’t deny the small young school girl in you getting excited over a silly game and getting picked.

“truth or dare jude?” your friend who you’d been teasing the whole night asked him knowing you wouldn’t be able to speak. you watched as he clenched his jaw before answering. “dare,” he spoke lowly but voice full of confidence, you bit your tongue, knowing he would either do the dare or face the consequences.

“for our sakes and yours, we’re daring you to kiss our lovely y/n right here,” she gently shook your shoulders, you send daggers to her, eyes wide as you wanted to shut the idea letting the nerves take over your system. “oh cmon, it’s that or telling everyone what you were saying last night when you were drunk,” she had a playful look on her face, jude shaking his head immediately at the thought.

jude tended to yap a lot when the was alcohol in his system, and last night wasn’t any different except he wouldn’t stop talking about you. how much he loved you, how pretty and kind you were, how you were the only one for him and never judged him, how much he loved your baking or when you wore his hoodies. you and no idea about this, so it raised a question in your head at what they were referring to.

“what are y’all talking about?”

“nothing!” jude was quick to dismiss his cheeks flushing with shyness and embarrassment. you raised a brow, but shook your head, knowing it was probably something boyish. jude somehow got closer to you, now on his knees as his eyes bore with yours. jude could see your pupils dilated, your lips tainted with a colored coat, your nose piercing blinging in the light as he leaned over you.

you cleared your throat, looking around unsure at every on their feet awaiting your next moves. jude leaned his head down, “it’s okay angel… one kiss and we can move onto the next dare,” he said only to you. part of you asked “what if” one kiss wouldn’t be enough for you, another asking if it was a good idea.

all you could do was nod instead of responding, almost being able to hear the squeal coming from your friend besides you. you let out a small breath as jude made the first move and placed his hand around your waist, your thumbs stroked his cheek almost losing your breath. you felt his warm finger tilt your face up to his, his thumb releasing your bottom lip that was stuck between your lips.

your mind raced with thoughts, he was finally going to kiss you, this was gonna happen and no one wanted to stop it. jude closed the last bit of space, his right hand resting just below your pulse as he captured your lips with his. you fell in love with how soft they felt, wanting to cringe at the aftertaste of beer on his lips but instead you found it sweet and pleasant.

this is what you were afraid of, of jude pulling away when you craved and wanted more of him. having waited and dreaming about the moment since forever, or more specifically after slow dancing at a school dance. jude on the other hand had to hold back the groan that wanted to escape his lips, his hand slightly tightened along your pulse point and throat.

it started off small and bare, now turning into a full makeout. his tongue tracing your lips before fully dominating your mouth, his hand now fully wrapped and secured on your waist, as he felt your tongue also trace his in a heated manner. he swallowed a small whimper from you, feeling your hands come to his face and push him away gently after kissing for a while.

you felt hot, every cell on fire, hair on your arms raised despite it all. with one simple kiss he already tortured your head into wanting more than just one. “we said a kiss jude, not a full makeup session… nice to know how you feel though,” your friend winked at you, watching how you sat slowly. your lips feeling sore, and now tainted with him.

it was all you could think about, how he tasted, how we kissed you like a devotion, how he held you, how you knew he didn’t want to pull away at all. the group decided to get more drinks before starting another round. you had gone into the house, making your drink to calm the pit in your stomach. was it possible for the aftermath to be this strong?

from jude:

where are you??

i thought you were with your friends?

to jude:

i’m in the kitchen! in the main house

from jude:

omw, i need to talk to you about something.

you avoided his eyes as he walked into the dark and empty kitchen, only strays from the moonlight decorating the marble tiles floors. your heart raced faster at his footsteps approaching you. he caged you in, hands on either side of you as he forced you to look up at him. “are you okay darling?” he spoke in a hush tone, making you shiver.

“yeah i-i-am good, just getting a drink, you? are you okay?”

“that was something, wasn’t it?” he asked, wanting to talk about what happened. to him it stopped being a game as soon as they dared him to kiss you. to jude, this was your official first kiss and he wanted to pour his heart right here and then. “the game? yeah, yeah it was? they’re probably regret some of the stuff they did tomorrow…”

jude frowned upon hearing you say regret. we’re you regretting kissing him? the kiss that was forever engraved in his head now? how could you possibly say that when you almost begged for more on the spot? “regret? do you regret what happened? our kiss?” jude was afraid of your answer, especially once you began to move around.

a moment of silence passed, shaking your head no. “no i don’t regret it… not one bit which should seem like an issue,” you laughed scratching your temple. “why would it seem like an issue? hmm?” jude cocked his head to the side, looking at you endearingly. he could see you, but you couldn’t pull back as your eyes traced his veins that roamed his skin.

“well we’re best friends? best friends don’t kiss.”

“are we just that though, y/n?” jude tested the waters, his hand sneaking around your waist once again. the familiar heat arose in your body again, “jude we shouldn’t. they’re waiting for us-”

“answer the question y/n. they haven’t even noticed we’re gone and i don’t think they’ll come looking for anytime soon,” jude reassured you. “i don’t know okay? i don’t know jude! this whole situation it’s making me feel and question things!” you try to escape but he impossibly pulls you closer to him. chest to chest.

“shh baby… it’s okay… just me and you here like i said. you’re scared and that’s okay but i promise you once we’re done, it will be worth it,” jude said, making you weak in the knees resisting the urge to kiss his pretty face. “so tell me. are we just friends?”

“no we’re not. because friends don’t just kiss and feel stuff. they don’t practically live together, moving miles away from their home to be with them. friends don’t sleep and cuddle in the same bed at night. friends don’t hold onto hope and love one day they’re going to see how you feel for them…”

“you’re my every thought, when i wake up, go to bed, when i hear the stupid craig david song, your name. it’s impossible at this point because you’re everywhere. i tried to tell myself maybe because we were attached but jude i cant take it anymore, i feel like im going to explode,” you continued.

“me either y/n… believe me… all i could think about how it felt right. like we are right now. how perfect it feels for you or me to be in each others arms. how when we’re together the only thought and feeling i have is pure happiness and security. i want that with you. i want to prove to you it’s me and you. it’s always been like that. y/n and jude…” you giggled at his last reference, tucking your head into his chest.

“just so you know and we’re on the same page, i want to be more than your best friend, i wanna be your boyfriend and maybe your husband one day… i just love you so much y/n, you have no idea,” jude confessed eyebrows slightly twinging as spoke, leaning down to sit you on the counter, still caging you.

“and i hope you know judey,” you smile as you said his nickname jude shyly looking away, “i’m just as madly in love with you… have been since the first time we met. can you believe it? all these years and it took a simple truth or dare to confess our feelings?” you ask in bewilderment, hand stroking his jaw as you pulled him closer to you.

“i really want to kiss you right now,” jude said along your lips, making your tummy flutter with eagerness to feel him pressed on you. “then do it. we’re not playing anymore-” you were quickly shut up, jude bring you close to his ad his hand rested along the nape of your neck. the room was hot, your legs tightly wrapped along his hips as he continued to devour you as a whole.

the night was just starting for the both of you, your friends long gone. just now the two of you relishing the intimacy together in his room. the pants, groans, moans, all causing you to feel dizzy and incoherent. jude not far behind as he was more in love with you. it wasn’t just sex because you felt the need or have to, his thrusts and rolls of hips proving it was love making and gloat over the closeness of your bodies sunk together.

you wouldn’t have had it another way, feeling thankful for the stupid silly game of truth of dare.

[fatuismooches]

a lesson in napping.

It was a beautiful day in Inazuma. The sun was shining brilliantly, not too hot either, just the perfect temperature, with a slight breeze to keep you cool. Perfect for doing nothing, best for relaxing and enjoying life. It was on days like these when your eyes began to droop much earlier than they should be. There was nothing wrong with that, of course. But Kabukimono was questioning why you were already slipping into the futon when it was so early into the day.

“[Name], what are you doing? Are you sick?” Kabukimono worried over your early retirement to bed.

“No, don’t worry, Kabukimono. I’m just going to sleep for a bit.”

“But… it’s not ‘bedtime’, yet, isn’t it?” You chuckled at his use of the new term you taught him.

“You’re right, it may not be bedtime… but it is naptime,” you replied, having to stifle a yawn, wanting nothing more than to just drag your lover under the sheets and just sleep already. “I’m feeling sleepy, so I’m just going to sleep for a little while. A nap,” you explained.

“Ah, ‘naptime’...” Kabukimono repeated. “So a lot of humans not only sleep during the night but during the day too?” The puppet was still learning about the concept of sleep. He did not need to sleep and found the idea of it fascinating. But before, when you left him to sleep by himself, you would be awoken by quiet sobs, and him curled into a ball. You wondered what he dreamed about that made him cry so much, but you never pushed for answers. But now that he lay on your chest whenever he dozed, it seemed that he was no longer plagued by those frightful dreams, at least not so frequently.

“Of course, Kabukimono,” you giggled. “Though most people here sleep during the night, there’s no set time on when a person should sleep. You can sleep whenever you want.” With that, you held your arms out, inviting him to come join you.

“Come here, my love. Why don’t you try it? Won’t you take a nap with me?” Immediately a smile grew on his face, happy to be invited to the activity. Kabukimono shyly slid under the blankets with you and then looked up at you with puppy eyes, hands close to his chest.

“Can you… can you hold me, please?” His cheeks grew to a faint red as he asked. The puppet loved affection but sometimes was scared to ask for it. He’d even get nervous while asking you to accompany him for simple things, leaning from foot to foot with hands behind his back. As if he thought you did not want to be in his presence.

Perhaps he had been rejected in the past, and that hurt his fragile heart.

But no matter, you were here to relieve all of his worries and make him feel wanted. You smiled in response and watched as Kabukimono’s face lit up. “Of course, dearest. Here, turn around,” the boy eagerly followed your instruction and softly giggled as his back pressed against your chest. He really loved being the little spoon.

You briefly thought back to the time when you first spooned him. It was a lovely experience, and he was a joy to hold. But you had felt playful at the time, and what better way to surprise him by tickling him? Your arms were in the best position for tickles too - snug around his middle.

Unfortunately, Kabukimono was not ticklish. The only thing you got out of it was a hot, embarrassed face while Kabukimono looked at you with a confused expression as to why your fingers were dancing around his tummy. It seemed like the puppet really didn’t have any weaknesses. At least not physical ones.

Quickly snapping out of that little memory, you took pleasure in the way Kabukimono was practically glowing in happiness. You wouldn’t have it any other way. It really felt like only the two of you existed in the world right now. Nothing else mattered.

“Good night, [Name]! Oh, I actually shouldn’t be saying that, right? Since it’s still daytime-” The puppet began to correct himself but you kissed him before he could continue, catching him off guard but he quickly reciprocated.

“How about ‘sweet dreams’?”

“Sweet dreams… I like that. Sweet dreams, [Name].”

“Sweet dreams to you as well, Kabukimono. Maybe we’ll have connected dreams, too.”

“Connected dreams? Is something like that even possible?”

“Sure is! Dreams are very, very powerful, love. Don’t forget that. Now hurry to dreamland, before we lose our sleepiness,” you finished, pecking him on the cheek for good measure. Kabukimono settled into the comfortable position once more at your words, comforted by the calm in and outs of your chest. His eyes fluttered shut, as his body succumbed to the surrounding warmth.

The deeply loved puppet soon drifted off, dreaming of a happy and beautiful future with you. You two even adopted a cat! It was a bit grumpy, but that was okay. It would come true, right? After all, if dreams were so powerful, they should become reality eventually.

Right?

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS: "Watch This!" | Crack

So I dunno about you, but I'm one of those idiots who seldom drink water and sometimes forgets to eat for like two days. So when I stand up too fast it's like a moment of "Oh look the lights went out." So anyway that's the entire idea for this. Everyone experiences this, right? This is a normal human thing to experience when you stand up? Just standing up and almost (or actually) peacing out? Anyway, I never said my writing ideas were good but I they're there.

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Fainting, Crack Fic, Reader can't take care of themselves, Zayne is stressed as your doctor, Rafayel might have a heart attack, Xavier just assumes you died, Rafayel does as well but he's dramatic on a good day

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

"Xavier, I promise you I am totally fine. I just got a little dizzy because of the heat." You tried assuring the blonde man as he looked around his apartment. He had already gotten a cold compress and thrown a glass of water in your hands for you to sip on. This was all because you guys had gone on a small jog together to prepare for the latest event in town and you had gotten a bit woozy. He had insisted on carrying you back to the apartments and here you where.

"Your face went as white as a sheet." He pointed out and you scoffed. Impossible. You don't even think it's possible to turn that color with how hot you had felt. If he said you looked like a cherry tomato or something from how red your face had gotten from the exertion it would've been more believable.

"Xavier, would an unwell person be able to do this?" You asked as you went to stand. As you jolted into a standing position you then remembered a key detail. The water he had given you was the first thing you had to drink today...and you don't think you had breakfast either.

The thought flashed through your mind as you felt the blood pounding in your ears and your vision darkening. Your only thought was 'Oh sugar, we're going down, down.' before you collapsed in on yourself.

Next thing you knew you were lying on the ground, a soft lap underneath you as Xavier fanned you off. You groaned as you came to, staring at Xavier's face. The man looked like he had just witnessed your death as he stared at you with wide eyes.

"Oh good morning." You managed to murmur out. Xavier's eyes narrowed as he glared down at you.

"You said you were fine then immediately fainted. I was about to call an ambulance." He scolded you, his tone harsh as he shifted your head on his lap. You noticed his free hand was holding a cell phone.

"Oh don't do that please. I'm okay."

"That's what you said last time."

"How about this...you get me something yummy to eat and I drink some water and if I'm still fainting after that then we can consider maybe going to see a doctor."

"Do you swear?"

"No..."

"We're going to the hospital." You then felt your world shift again as you were tossed unceremoniously over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You beat his back, begging him to let you down. Alas, once Xavier had his mind made, there was nothing you could do to stop him.

Zayne

"Have you already eaten today?" It was a simple enough question as you sat at the end of your check up with your favorite doctor. Your legs swinging over the edge as you put in some thought to that question. Zayne sat there, waiting patiently as he looked up and quirked an eyebrow in question.

"That is a brilliant question that I don't have an answer to." You might've eaten something today...or perhaps that was yesterday? The days sometimes blurred together in the most confusing ways.

"Have you drank any water?" Oh that was an easy question. No. The answer was no.

"You know the first ingredient in an energy drink is water."

"No..." Zayne said, pinching his eyebrows together in frustration. How you managed to still be alive is a miracle. Not even science could explain how you didn't just kneel over on any given day with how little care you put into your health.

"Zayne, I can promise you, I am totally healthy. Watch this." You stated before jumping up off the examination table. Immediately you felt the world shifting under you like the floor decided to become sentient and move like a damn treadmill.

Next thing you knew, you were waking up in the arms of the best cardiac surgeon at Akso hospital. You grumbled a bit as the light was bright. You looked up to see Zayne's not amused expression, in fact you might even call it a frustrated look.

"How long was I out?"

"30 seconds too long."

"Am I in trouble?"

"You're going to the cafeteria with me right now to get food and water. If you faint again I'm admitting you for the night and hooking you up to an IV."

"So you're saying fainting gets me a dinner date with the Doctor Zayne, and a possible sleepover?"

"Why are you like this?"

Rafayel

You made the realization that you could only entertain yourself by playing on your phone for so long. Rafayel had promised that as soon as he finished some light detail work on his latest painting, you could go out to town and grab some dinner.

That was well over six hours ago as you laid on his couch. You had already finished a book you had downloaded on your phone, scrolled through all your social media, checked out new memes, and caught up on videos of people you followed. As you looked over you saw Rafayel was still sitting on his stool, painting away.

You groaned, rolling yourself off the couch you had been glued to for those entire six hours. You plopped onto the floor, noting that he really did need to clean this studio up a bit. Normally Rafayel would at least be talking to you, but he had been so quiet and boring today.

"Raf...I'm dying of boredom here." You finally called out to him. The man in question looked over at you then looked outside. The sun had set a long time ago and he paused in what he was doing.

"I promise, I'm almost done." He said with a sigh and you groaned again. Then you remembered a little party trick you had up your sleeve. You'd admit you were actually hungry on account of being too busy to eat and then being promised food earlier, you opted not to have snacks. Not to mention water was gross for drinking so it all accumulated into the perfect way to get his attention.

"Rafayel, I'm fading away. I'm starving. I might die. I'm so weak." You called out from the floor and Rafayel finally turned in his stool to eye you up and down.

"I'm sure you are." His tone was sarcastic as he looked at you. He seemed to be entertained by your antics, "I can always order you some food. I also have snacks in the kitchen." He pointed out.

"That won't work, Raf. I'm too far gone. I mean...just watch this." You said, jumping up from your position on the ground. As soon as you were in a standing position, your body fought against you. Your ears were ringing uncomfortably and your vision went in and out. You could barely hear Rafayel calling your name in concern, followed by a him cursing as things clattered.

You collapsed, fainting just like you knew your dumbass would. You knew your body and knew the perfect conditions for going lights out, after all.

When you came to, you saw Rafayel almost in tears as he tried getting you to wake up. You murmured something that not even you could decipher as Rafayel's shoulders sagged in relief.

"I thought you actually died." He looked shaken up as you raised a hand to touch his cheek.

"Can we get food now like you promised?"

Rafayel was silent for a moment as he calmed his heart down and looked at you, "Did you faint just so I'd stop painting and take you to dinner?"

"Well did it work?"

"...Yes, but never do that again."

[itsshawtyfellas]

Breaking in

Pairing: Charlie Walker x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, 18+ (mature content such as dom!charlie, sub!reader, dry humping, clit stimulation, oral, praise kink, degradation kink, mask kink, penetration)

A/N: ngl I'm a sucker for all of those charlie as a sub type of fics (I stand by that) but I believe that behind that mask charlie is a whole different person based on his murders. So I decided to write something about it because why not 😈 sit down and enjoy my little sluts (btw my obsession with this man is over the roof by now help) the gif is just to give you a little idea of how it will go further into the fic😉

You didn't know how to feel.

Were you angry? Upset? Scared? Probably all of them.

You just couldn't believe it at first. You refused to believe your sweet, smart and funny boyfriend Charlie could do something like that.

You simply decided to go to Charlie's house after school to surprise him but when you got to his room you saw him taking off his ghostface costume that had droplets of blood in it. You confronted him about it, asking him if he was the one responsible for all the murders in Woodsboro so far and he didn't even bother to deny. He couldn't lie to you, so he admitted it, explaining the truth and reasoning behind it.

You were quiet the entire way back to your house and also inside it. Your mind went back to all the moments you had spent with him; the sweet ones, the sad ones, the intimate ones. As time went by, your thoughts made you realize how real it all was.

It's been only a couple of days since you walked out of his house and you still couldn't stop thinking about it. The rational side of your body kept telling you that you should inform the authorities; that meant reporting your boyfriend would not only make him stay in prison for a few good decades but it would also make you, as his girlfriend, an accomplice of his crimes since you knew the truth. Meanwhile, the emotional side of your body wanted you to hide the whole truth and run back into the kind arms of the love of your life. Whatever your decision was, you couldn't tell anyone about it.

Right as you mind wandered back to reality, you noticed the movie you had put on to distract yourself had ended, so you started to do some chores around your house, since you didn't want to think about it for a little while.

As you finished cleaning the kitchen, you went out for a few minutes to take out the trash, leaving the front door slightly ajar so you could go back in, but suddenly you felt eyes on you and a presence on your back. Turning around to go back inside, you quickly checked your surroundings to make sure you weren't being watched, scared you would be the next kill despite knowing Charlie would never do something to you.

The moment you turned around after closing your door, you came face to face with your boyfriend Charlie; except that he was wearing the ghostface costume and you gussed that he was either coming back from a kill or going for one. For brief seconds, the two of you just stood there in front of each other without saying a word. Every emotion and every thought that you were having and thinking earlier came back rushing to your heart and mind. Your own body was battling against your own, not knowing whether you should run away from him, to him or fight him; so you opted by asking him a simple but stupid question.

"Are you going to hurt me?" He didn't answer, only shaking his head.

"Then why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you." Those were his only words before going quiet again. He could tell you were feeling conflicted but he wasn't going to blame you.

"You could've called me." He took a step closer to you.

"I didn't know if you wanted to talk to me, much less see me."

He took another step towards you but you didn't back away. He kept coming closer and closer until he was right in front of you. Charlie lifted a hand to your face, caressing your cheek, feeling your skin heat up under his touch.

Not only was your skin hot, but your heart was almost popping out of your chest from how gently he was touching you. The way he was touching your face along with the way he was looking at you behind that mask was arousing you, even though you wanted to ignore it.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for putting you through this." His voice, soothing and calm as always, comforted you as he looked at your trembling form.

You had no words. Even after finding out he was the killer – ghostface– he still made you feel warm and fuzzy inside; you shouldn't but you couldn't help yourself, you still loved him and he was still your boyfriend.

"I didn't want you to find out this way, I swear I never meant to put you involved in this." Even though you couldn't see his face, you could still hear the plead in his voice.

"I was involved in all of this ever since you started murdering people knowing you and I were together and I could find out about it at any moment." You said, while stepping away from him, the anger and frustration showing through your voice. Charlie turned his head slightly away from the direction of your eyes knowing how upset you were. "At least show me your face and look at me if you're so sorry."

He was aware of how angry you were, so, like a soldier listening to his commander's orders, he turned his head back to you and brought his hand to his chin to take off his mask, his hair tied into a bun, all while looking into your eyes.

You stared at him; your eyes running all over his face, mostly remaining on his baby blue eyes, as if to remember every single detail of his angelic like features to assure yourself that he was still the same –which he was. If someone told you a few days ago that your boyfriend was the one who committed the murders, you wouldn't believe them and would've laughed in their face, telling them he would never do something like that, for he was far too sweet to kill people in such a brutal way, but right now, as you looked at him, you could only wish it wasn't true.

It didn't stop you though. It didn't stop your mind from reliving all those moments spent with him; it didn't stop your feelings from erupting into the surface everytime you thought of him; it didn't stop your heart from racing whenever you saw him; and it definitely didn't stop you from loving him.

You and Charlie kept eye contact with each other once no other words were exchanged. The silence surrounding your bodies in the living room was loud; you could even hear your light breaths and maybe even your heart ramming against your ribcage.

However, Charlie tried to make another move for the second time that day by walking slowly towards you. The stare in his eyes was so intense the arousal you felt before came back to your body, the tingling sensation lowering to your core. Without thinking, you took a step back as he kept walking towards you until you collided with the wall.

Your breathing got heavier as the air around you felt hot, the arousal only increasing more and more with the way Charlie was staring at you; what you didn't know was that he was doing it on purpose to rile you up. He loved to watch the way your chest rose up and down when he did something like this. It turned him on when he had some kind of control over you since it was unusual for him and when that happened he liked to enjoy it as much as he could.

"Do you still love me?" He asked with uncertainty.

"I don't know if I should." You answered out of spite despite wanting to say yes.

"Do you trust me?"

"I don't know if I should either."

No words were said after that. It wasn't that you didn't trust him or love him –you did, with your soul and life– but you wanted to see how the moment would go and how it would end. Would you lie to him and say you didn't want him anymore? Would you guys break up and never see each other again? Or would you confess your love and trust for him and keep it all a secret? Whatever way that conversation would go, your mind was set on not sending him to the authorities.

You were so distracted thinking about how it would all end, preparing yourself mentally and emotionally, that you didn't even notice Charlie's hand locking itself on your neck, right beneath your jawline, and leaning in to kiss you. Despite getting caught off guard, your body accepted the kiss with an eagerness never felt before.

As the kiss evolved, eventually turning into makeout session, all the doubts you were having before left your mind, the only thing remaining being the love and trust you had for him. A wave of emotions flooded your heart, making its palpitations increase, causing you to pull him closer to your body with your arms encircling around his neck.

To say he was surprised by your reaction was an understatement. Even though the love you had for one another was unconditional, he almost expected you to turn around and go straight to the police, but he was mostly relieved that you didn't. With that, he started to slowly and reluctantly slide his hands down your back, afraid you would stop him but decided to keep going when he felt you holding him even closer. Now feeling more secure and confident, he ran his hands over your waist and to your hips, pulling your pelvis against his when arousal started to rush into his body, going straight to his core.

"Do you want me?" He asked, pausing his actions.

"Yes." You didn't even hesitate to answer his question, the passion you were feeling mixing up with the physical contact only added more fervor into your veins. Right when you were about to carry on with the now heavy makeout session, Charlie stopped you by grabbing your wrist. Looking at him with a confused look in your face, you were about to ask him what was he doing when he suddenly took a step back. When he did this, your mind began to cloud itself with insecurities and second thoughts, in fear that he had regretted his decision; it almost made you prepare yourself for a heartbreak until you saw him kneeling down to grab his mask that he dropped earlier on the floor to put it back on.

"Charlie?" Without answer, he started to walk back to you, your body still pressed against the wall. Even when you couldn't see his face due to the mask, you could feel his eyes on you, watching you like a hawk. It made you feel nervous and a little scared but you kept telling yourself he wouldn't hurt you –after all you trusted him and you wanted him to know that.

Now standing in front of you again, Charlie tilted his head lightly, noticing the way your chest rose up and down due to your heavy breathing, your lips slightly parted and your eyes locked on his –or his mask.

At first, he thought about taking off the costume and let things flow between the two of you like they usually would, but now, as he stands in front you, watching the way your body reacted to him and his actions, he couldn't help but feel a sudden urge to take control, soon overtaken by a feeling of power, something he would mostly feel whenever he wore the ghostface costume for his kills. All of it only turned him on more.

You weren't far behind. If someone walked in on that moment and saw ghostface –or Charlie– in your living room cornering you against the wall, they would immediately think you were being attacked and would call the police –but that wasn't the case as the energy around the room shifted once again as your body heat increased and your heartbeat sped up as Charlie kept staring at you under that mask, causing you to feel just as aroused as he was.

Coming even closer until your bodies were touching, he grabbed your hips and pulled you close to him all over again, his hands then sliding down to your buttcheeks to bring your pelvis towards his to create some sort of friction. Noticing this, you circled your arms around his torso and buried your face in his neck, moving your hips against his clothed erection, while his hands held your ass helping your movements.

Not a single word other than each other's heavy breathing was exchanged as the two of you were humping your hips towards one another, at least not until one of his hands left your butt and you felt his fingertips going over the seam of your pajama pants, teasing you at first to arouse you even more and then going under your panties and to your pussy, using his middle and ring fingers to give you slow and light circles to your stimulated clit.

"C-Charlie..." You panted against his neck. The hand that was still holding your cheek, was brought to your chin, lifting your face from his neck in order to make you look at him, his head slightly tilted in a provoking way.

"What is it? Hmm? Does it feel good?" He asked, amusement oozing out of his voice as he kept touching your pussy.

"Y-Yes, yes, it feels s-so good." You stuttered, as you let your head fall on his shoulder.

"Yes, it does and you wanna know why? Because you're taking it like a good little slut, aren't you?" As he spoke, the words only got stuck in your throat as you felt your orgasm approaching, the only possible answers being the nods of your head and the shifting of your hips as he changed the speed of his fingers, going even faster to help you reach your peak.

"Shhh, I know, I know, there you go." He praised, his voice soft in your ear as the most earth shattering orgasm hit you, making your body tremble in his arms, the sounds of your erratic breathing only getting louder with each after shock, causing your shaking form to look like it just got a short circuit.

Charlie then removed his fingers from your underwear, wiping them on his costume without care and took a step back, giving you a minute to cool off before trying anything else. He was about to ask if you were okay but refrained himself from saying it when you suddenly brought your hands to his ankles, in an attempt to remove his costume, lifting it up and taking it off his body along with his shirt, leaving him with only his mask and jeans. As you were about to unbuckle his belt, Charlie suddenly held your hands, stopping your actions. You glanced up at him perplexed, questioning why would he stop you and wondering if he didn't want you to return the favor when all of a sudden you felt the weight of his palms on your shoulders, gently but firmly pressing on them to push you down on your knees.

"What? Isn't this what you want, hmm?" You could tell he asked it in a rhetoric way, using a taunting and condescending tone and smirking under his mask, whilst stroking your cheek and looking down at you, almost as if telling you you knew what to do. So, with little hesitation and excitement filling your body, you brought your hands to his belt loops, unbuckling them and then unbuttoning his pants, giving little kisses and licks on his firm abs and down his v-line, his hips going forward, towards your mouth as you tugged down his jeans along with his boxer briefs.

"Look at you, pretty little thing getting excited over my cock. You're such a fucking whore, aren't you, baby?" Charlie's words did nothing but arouse you even more, making you feel even more turned on to the point your own wetness was seeping through your panties.

Bringing his pants and boxers down to the middle of his thighs, you took a few seconds to admire him in all his glory, starting with his face –covered by the mask– and going down his naked torso, ending with his fully erected dick, standing long, hard and with a certain girth before grabbing his cock in your hand, kissing his underside and then wrapping your lips around his reddish tip, lightly sucking and swirling your tongue around it while using your hand to stroke him slowly and teasingly to excite him even more. You kept doing this for a while before Charlie got tired of your teasing and put a hand on the back of your upper neck and brought your head forward, taking off your hand so you could bob your head easily.

"Fuck, you're doing so good, it's like you were made to suck dick, weren't you? Maybe that's why you always look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, right? What would everyone say if they saw you right now on your knees in front of the so known ghostface, sucking him off like the dirty fucking slut you are, hmm? You'd love that, wouldn't you, baby?"

Your boyfriend's choice of words only made you move your head even faster, trying to make him reach his orgasm with his hand still at the back of your neck controlling your movements. All you could hear were his groans along with his irregular breathing as he rutted his hips against your mouth, feeling you squeeze your lips around him and running your tongue on the underside as he came and let the milky white substance fill the inside of your cheeks, watching you swallow it all.

As soon as he finished, Charlie grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet, your knees sore from being on the floor for too long, and, without saying a single word, bended your over the arm of your couch and pulled your pajama pants down, looking at the wetness of your pussy.

"God, you're so fucking wet, is this from sucking me off? Yeah? Do you want me to fuck you? Will you be a good girl and let me fuck you? Answer me or I'll make you fuck my shoe instead of me." He said, running his middle finger up and down your pussy, circling your clit every once in a while.

"Yes, y-yes, please fuck me, please..." You panted.

He didn't answer, simply pushing your head down and lifted your hips a little, making you arch your back, and started to rub the tip of his dick on your clitoris and then at your entrance, sliding in slowly to let you adjust to him before starting to move in a slow pace, soon speeding up the rhythm of his thrusts while paying attention to your light moans.

"Fucking hell, you're such a fucking whore, fucking a murderer in your living room when no one knows who and where he is, but you love it, don't you, darling?" The way Charlie was talking only added more fire to your veins and skin, making you try and push your hips back a little to meet his thrusts, when you felt his hands gripping your thighs and sliding up and around your hips, adding more force into his thrusts, only to bring a hand to the front of your body, towards your pussy, stroking your clit to bring you to the edge.

The house was so quiet that the sounds of skin slapping, erratic breathing, grunts and moans seemed loud on your ears but it only made the two of you more excited.

"Are you gonna cum? You want me to fill you up and stuff your pretty little pussy with my cum? Is that what you want? Cum for me then, c'mon, love, you can do it, cum." Charlie panted, his voice slightly baffled by the mask that he was still wearing.

"C-Cumming, cumming –fuck– I'm cumming..." You stuttered as you felt your legs starting to shake, feeling an orgasm coming to hit you body as you shivered, it being as strong and intense as an earthquake, feeling the spurts of cum painting the walls of your pussy, as Charlie came inside you.

After taking a few minutes to gather your breaths, Charlie pulled out of you and used his shirt to clean you up and pull up your pants after taking off his mask and buttoning his jeans. The two of you were staring at each other's eyes in silence before he decided to speak.

"I'm sorry. I really am." Those were his only words before looking at the floor, not being able to look you in the eye.

"It's okay, I love you and I still trust you with my life, and even when I shouldn't I won't report you."

"Thank you, I love you so much." Nothing else was said afterwards as you locked yourselves in a passionate kiss.

-----------------------

A/N: Jesus fucking christ this took me DAYS but tbh I'm just happy that it's already done😁 well I just hope that you guys enjoy the reading🤭

[heavenlyhischier]

𝐀𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 | 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 2.5k

summary: it’s your turn to choose, and you just hope that you made the right choice.

warnings: angst, reader is kinda ‘pick me choose me’ but it’s okay, kissing, unedited as usual

part one

Luke broke up with his girlfriend the day after you left. Gave her some half-assed excuse of his life being too busy with hockey, but she knew the truth, and she didn’t fault him for it. He wanted to reach out to you, to call you, to text you, but he was smart enough to know it wasn’t a good idea. After the things he said to you and the way he undoubtedly made you feel, he knew you needed space away from him. How much space was the question that he didn’t know the answer to.

The first text you’d gotten from Luke was a simple ‘I’m sorry’ a week after you’d left that day. You were in class when it came through, and all you could do was stare at the message. You didn’t know what to do, and you couldn’t focus on the rest of the lecture, so you retreated to your apartment for the day and left the text unanswered. You opted to not tell Sage about the text, especially because she thought you had blocked him already.

The next text you got from him was the following day, and it was significantly longer than his previous one. He explained how sorry he was, how he had broken up with his girlfriend, how he wishes he could take it all back and have you in his life again, how he missed you. You didn’t respond to that one either, though you really wanted to, but he had hurt you. Luke had caused you the most heart stopping pain you’d ever felt in your life, and you needed to get rid of those feelings before you accepted him back as a part of your life.

Luke texted you every day now, telling you how sorry he was and he wasn’t going to give up on you so easily this time unless you explicitly told him not to. You never texted him and told him no, so he took that as an open invitation. The more time went on, the more descriptive his texts got and they started to chip away at the wall you had built between the two of you. There was one text you’d gotten from him that said he loved you, and if you didn’t know better, based on the context of the rest of the message, you would’ve thought he meant he was in love with you.

The one time you had texted Luke back, it was for selfish reasons and with the hope that it would make him a teeny bit mad. It was childish and immature, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. It was the first time he’d worked up the courage to ask to see you, and you had texted him back saying that you couldn’t. Because you had a date that night. Luke’s heart fell to his stomach as he read the message over and over again.

“Jack,” Luke called out as he barged into his brother's room, “She’s going on a date. I told her that I love her, and she’s going on a date. What the fuck do I do?”

Jack sat on his bed, phone in hand as he glared at his brother. Ever since he got home that day and asked what had happened, Jack’s been pissed at his brother. He was an idiot who ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him, and Jack had no sympathy for that.

“Nothing,” He shrugged, gaze darting back to his phone as he scrolled through social media, “You do nothing, Luke. You fucked up. Bad. Now you have to deal with the consequences.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Luke scoffed, “I was hoping for some advice.”

“What do you want me to say, dude,” Jack angrily spoke, throwing his phone next to him, “That it’ll be okay? That you’ll get her back? Well, honestly I don’t think you should get her back. You don’t deserve her, Luke. She did everything for you. She was there for you anytime you needed her. She fucking chose you no matter what and you went and fucked that up for some girl you don’t even really know! I love you and I always will, but you don’t fucking deserve her forgiveness after the shit you did.”

While Luke was kicked out his brothers room, you were busy getting ready for your date that Sage was forcing you to go on. She claimed that he was a nice guy, a breath of fresh air after everything that had happened with Luke. You agreed to go, but told her that you would be driving yourself in case you weren’t feeling it and wanted to leave early. She, reluctantly, agreed to the terms and sent you on your way once you were ready.

About halfway through your drive to the restaurant, you realized that you were going the complete wrong direction. You were driving towards Luke’s apartment without even meaning to, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to turn around. The twisted part of your brain was telling you this was a sign, that you should give him a chance and talk to him, that maybe the two of you could give what had been broken between you. The logical part of your brain was telling you to turn around, go to the restaurant and forget that Luke Hughes ever existed. You weren’t sure what to do, but then you found yourself standing outside of his apartment door.

You stared at the door, your heart and mind waging the ultimate war within you. The urge to turn around and walk away dwindled by the second. You wanted to see him so you could yell at him, to tell him how badly he hurt you. You wanted to see if he missed you as much as you missed him, so you knocked on the door. If Jack was the one who answered, you were going to take that as a sign that Luke was gone for good, but it seemed as if fate was on your side.

Luke swung the door open, the greeting he had dying in his tongue when he saw you standing in front of him. You glared at him as you racked your brain for the angry speech you had planned out, but you were coming up empty now. Only one phrase on your mind as you were harshly brought back to the memories of that day in Luke’s room. The day he chose someone else over you.

“I hate you,” You tried to keep your voice steady, but it wavered as your bottom lip wobbled.

Luke didn’t know what to say as you stood in front of him in the outfit he assumed was for your date. Your eyes were lined with uncried tears, glassy and broken as they bore into his own. He felt his heart shatter inside of his chest when he noticed that the necklace he had gotten you for your sixteenth birthday and had worn ever since, was missing from your neck.

“I know,” Luke finally breathed out as he took every inch of you in like it was going to be the last time he was going to see you. To him, he thought it was going to be.

“I hate you,” You repeated, voice barely above a whisper as tears spilled over onto your cheeks. You felt pathetic for breaking so easily, but the plan you had to scream and yell at him went out the window the second you saw him in front of you.

“I know,” He swallowed thickly, hand twitching towards you, aching to pull you close, “I’m so sorry.”

“Why am I not worth choosing,” You sobbed as your gaze fell to the ground and you hugged your arms to your body.

In an instant, Luke was pulling you into his apartment, and into his arms. He held you as you cried into his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt, but he didn’t care. He rubbed circles in your back, not sure what the fuck he was supposed to say to you right now. He’d thought about this moment ever since you left two months ago, but now that you were right in front of him, he was clueless.

While Luke’s arms were holding you close, yours remained wrapped around yourself as sobs tore through your body. You wanted to reach out and never let him go, but you were scared and hurt. After what he’d done, you were afraid to let any part of him back in. You couldn’t go through that pain all over again; you’re not sure you would make it out this time.

Luke was glad that Jack was gone for the afternoon, off doing who knows what with who knows who. He knows that if he saw you crying in Luke’s arms, Jack would give him another earful of words he’s heard for the last two months. He didn’t want to hear how he didn’t deserve you or your forgiveness because he knew that he didn’t, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been clinging onto hope. Hope was the only thing getting him through the day.

“I hate you so much,” You whispered, voice thick with emotion as you finally wound your arms around his waist.

Luke pulls you closer into his chest, tears of his own falling down on his cheeks as he listens to how broken you sound. He wants to say that he hates himself too, that he hates what he did to you, but he doesn’t want to make it about himself. At the end of the day, the way he felt was his own doing. He ruined your friendship and shut you out. He hurt himself.

“I’m so sorry,” Luke mumbled your name as if it was the most delicate thing in the entire world, “I’m sorry I hurt you. If I could— If I could take it all back I would. I would change everything if I could. But, I just— I don’t know what to do.”

“Tell me I’m worth choosing,” You begged, grasping at his shirt, “Or at least tell me why I'm not.”

Luke pulls away from you, but keeps his hands on your biceps as he looks at you. His cheeks are red and eyes heavy, but his face is serious. He’s sporting the same look he had when he forced you to listen to him tell you how much your ex boyfriend didn’t deserve you and how amazing you are.

“Listen to me, okay,” He started, his voice shaky and hesitant, “You are worth choosing, Y/N. In fact, you were always my only choice. You always have been, but that’s why I did what I did. I’m so fucking sorry I let you walk away that day. It was the worst mistake of my life, but I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“I don’t understand,” You shook your head, “Why would cutting me off be the right thing? Do you not want me in your life anymore?”

Panic bubbled in your chest as you let your mind run rampant with anxious thoughts. Regret in the form of bile rose in your throat, the desire to turn around and run away creeping back up. Your hands began to shake, an action Luke was quick to pick up on as he let go of your arms to capture them in his own.

“That’s not what I’m saying, I promise,” He softly reassured as he rubbed circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, “I thought it was the right thing because I thought it would help me move on. I’ve loved you since we were fifteen and I knew you didn’t feel the same way, so I thought choosing someone else would help me do that. Obviously, I was wrong.”

Your jaw went slack and your glassy eyes widened, your heart beating against your chest as you listened to him. It felt too good to be true; Luke admitting that he loved you the same way you loved him. It almost felt like you were dreaming, like you’d finally clawed your way out of the nightmarish reality that has been your life.

Luke felt like he was about to pass out the longer he sat with your silence surrounding him. He knew that confessing his feelings was a risky move given everything that had happened, but he needed you to know. He was hoping and praying that you felt the same, or that you’d at least welcome him back into your life as your friend again.

“You were wrong,” You swallowed the lump in your throat, “I did feel the same way about you.” Luke felt his heart fall to his feet. “I do still, but, Luke, you hurt me. I can’t just look past that. I’m not saying I can’t ever get over it, but it’ll take time.”

Without a second thought, Luke’s pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as you bury your face into his chest, taking in the way he felt against you. While you were still upset with him, there was no better feeling than in his embrace. It was always where you felt safest, and you hoped that that feeling would come back with time. Though, a small part of you was telling you it never left.

“I will do whatever it takes to earn your trust back,” Luke mumbled into the crook of your neck, “I love you, and I will spend my life proving that to you.”

“Luke,” You pulled away, eyes wide and pleading, “I don’t care if this is too soon, but can you please kiss m—”

He didn’t let you finish your sentence before crashing his lips onto your own. He pulled you into him by your waist as your hands moved up to tangle in his hair. Luke moved his mouth against yours, tasting the salt from both of your tears as he slipped his tongue into yours. It was a tangled mess of emotions as the two of you pushed against each other, but it was perfect.

After five years of what the two of you thought was unrequited love, you expected nothing short of desperation and yearning. You poured your entire being into the kiss, and by the way Luke was holding you like you would disappear, you knew he was too. The last time you were in the Hughes’ apartment, you felt like your entire world was collapsing below your feet. Now, you felt the world around you rise again and it was even more beautiful than before.

[kaisers-house-of-desires]

I just wanna say I have notifications on for this blog, AND DID NOT GET THEM. Ahem, anyway, may I ask for a part two of the Muzan x reader fluff where he turns the reader into a demon? 👀 — H

Of course~ Some fluff coming right up~

Title: Meant to Be (Continuation of In Sickness and in Health)

Characters: Muzan x m!Reader

Contains: fluff, pet names (love, dear), blood, death (Demons are...well, demons. While there is fluff, there will be blood and death of extrememly minor characters. Be warned when reading.)

Fandom: Demon Slayer

Full request below the cut

All characters are 18+

MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI (This may not be smut, but I still want the above to be followed)

Reblogs > likes

A nearby village was no match for your carnivorous rage.

Homes were destroyed, and bodies were scattered about the roads. Faint words rang in your mind as your carnage continued.

Eat to your heart's content.

And eat you did, leaving the village with nearly nothing left. It was a small village, one with not too many people. Anyone who ran by you or attempted to kill you would be your primary target, costing them their lives. Though the ones in hiding wouldn't be spared either, as you would hunt them down like prey, blood dripping from your mouth as you would scout out your next meal.

Within the hour, the village was no more. Families were wiped and structures demolished. You stood at the center of the land, panting heavily as your claws and mouth were soaked with the blood of various villagers. You couldn't tell if you were satisfied, but the nagging feeling in your gut tempted you to hunt for more.

The presence behind you felt appetizing.

Though upon turning around you were met with a tall man with dark wavy hair, his white hat surprisingly clean despite being in a land of viscera and death. You immediately changed your tune, your predatory nature giving way to something softer.

"Muzan, darling!"

He was the only thing you could remember when you woke up. Your memories were nearly erased with the transformation, only leaving the relationship you two shared.

Upon seeing his beloved, Muzan gave you a smile. You didn't realize it before, but now that you had a moment to process, you notice he held a terrified villager in one arm. She was held firmly, Muzan's hand pressing against it so she wouldn't scream. She was afraid, eyes wide as they darted between the two of you.

"I caught this one attempting to run from the village," Muzan explained, gazing down at the woman. "What do you think we should do with her?"

Hunger shot to your mind again, and you stepped toward the trembling woman. Her still wide eyes were now fixated on you rather than flicking back and forth. Her life was quite literally in someone else's hands.

You thought about her fate for a moment, a teasing response following. "Love, have I ever told you I wanted a pet~?"

That answer didn't sit well with the woman, and she began to squirm. Her screams were muffled by Muzan's hand with no way of calling out. Her feet futilely kicked in the air, as if she was already trying to run.

Muzan wasn't happy about her response, and with this position, he forced her head back, exposing her neck. "Are you sure about this one? She's quite loud."

You were so glad he played along.

"Hmm...you're right. I have another idea instead." Staring at the woman, who was frozen in fear from her new position, you simply uttered, "Let her go."

Without question, Muzan dropped the woman to the ground. She was unable to meet either of your gazes.

"Well?" You knelt down to her, your voice teasing. "Run~"

As if thinking she was blessed by the gods, she took you at your order, bolting the moment she heard the word. She screamed into the air, calling for anyone to help her, to help her village.

"Are you really about to let her get away?" Muzan asked, a brow quirked.

Your answer was a simple one.

With your newfound speed, the woman would never reach the end of the village. Your teeth would sink deep into her neck, silencing her for good as you indulged in your final meal of the night.

---

Having returned home, you were covered in the dry blood of your feast. Muzan offered to help clean you, to which you didn't refuse. He simply asked you to wait in the bathroom as he set everything up, from gathering your lounging clothes to setting up the tub with heated water. Once the tub was set and you were free of your dirtied clothes, you settled yourself in the tub, some of the water splashing out in the process.

Undeterred by this, Muzan went to work. Despite his title of King of Demons, he treated you as if you were the very thing he was, along with extra care. The way he'd hold your arm was that of a porcelain doll. The sponge carefully swiped along your skin, soap suds cleansing away the dirt and blood that speckled it. As you soaked, and as Muzan carried his actions, the water would tinge color, becoming a translucent red.

As Muzan finished his self assigned duties, he would take note of this sight, and a rush of admiration would wash over him. Thoughts of you bathing in the blood of your adversaries set his body a flame.

For once in his millennia of life, he was the one that did not feel worthy to be in someone's presence.

This feeling would remain as he would assist you out of the tub, a spot with a towel all prepared for you to sit upon as he dried off your freshly cleaned skin. You were the only creature that would ever see him like this, kneeling before a lesser demon, assiting them in such a menial task.

You'd tease him, but in reality you adored how gentle he was with you, and why would you tease that? Sure he was a king, but even a king can be gentle.

With your body dry, he clothed you with a luxurious silk robe that complimented your new reddened eye color. You weren't sure when he had gotten this, but you weren't complaining. It felt lovely on your skin, and you were grateful for his assitance.

Muzan would stand, carefully taking your hand to urge you to stand as well. In doing so, he would carefully kiss the ridge of your knuckles, gazing at you with such soft eyes. You wanted to return the gesture, so you then in turn pulled his hand holding yours close, turning your hand to expose his and return the kiss.

You would never remember who you were, but one thing was for certain: this is where you were meant to be and who you were meant to be with.

[yuusishi]

Hi how’s it going? I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if I could request a headcannon of how Kaeya, Diluc, and Dainsleif react to reader saying “I can get it, just don’t ask how”? Can be either platonic or romantic, whichever you prefer. Thanks in advanced!

. . . SWEET SECRETS

pairings : Kaeya Alberich , Diluc Ragnvindr , Dainsleif x gn!reader

genre : fluff

cws/tws : implied violence but it’s rlly short

a/n : warning this is lowkey ass cuz I didn’t really know how to go about the whole plot so sorry if it’s messy 😭. I’ll be putting the headers later cuz I’m not on my pc rn and that’s where I make them !!

KAEYA ALBERICH !!

He thought you were just trying to lighten up the mood seeing his stressed expression upon walking in his office, but seeing your dead serious face he couldn't help but get curious about what your "way of finding the missing artifact" could be.

You weren't part of the knights, just a simple adventurer from the guild, and definitely not on par with the Traveler.

He mentally weighed his options until giving up and leaving it in your hands.

He really wasn't expecting much, possibly a lead or two, but the entire missing artifact that the knights were searching for for weeks showing up at his office definitely woke him up without any need for caffeine that morning. It was safely tucked in a basket too...

Letting out an amused chuckle, he walked towards the basket. The fragile artifact was encased in a bundle of blankets to prevent any breakage, as well as a note tucked in the corner.

“I spent all night getting this so you owe me! The map to the thieves’ den is on the back of this note” signed with your name, even then he could probably recognize your handwriting at a glance without the need for your signature.

Sure enough a shockingly detailed map was drawn at the back of the small note. That was the day Kaeya considered recommending you to Jean as the Knights’ private investigator.

DILUC RAGNVINDR !!

You need to have one hell of a way with words if you were to ask Diluc to even remotely involve you in his investigations. He’s well aware the dangers his nighttime escapades pose if he were to bring others with him, that’s the whole reason he works alone in the first place.

He had mentioned in passing that his messenger owl had gone missing for the past few days, no longer answering his calls or bringing back any letters, that’s when you had an amazing conversation with Dawn Winery’s owner.

“I can give you the lead but…” “But…?” “I want to go instead” “Not a chance” “Please!” “Then tell me how you’ll be doing it” “I can’t tell you” “Then it’s still a no” “I promise I can do it myself! The only thing you have to do is swear not to ask questions tomorrow morning”

A heavy sigh left Diluc’s lips as you wait expectantly for his answer, “Should you harm yourself in any way while you’re out, you’re getting banned from the tavern, alright?”

If he had to be honest, he stayed up later than usual that night (at least when he doesn’t need to be the darknight hero). He wished you would stroll up to Dawn Winery in the middle of the night and said that you gave up on the investigation, but you didn’t.

He had work the next morning, he went to sleep and hoped to the archons that putting faith in your abilities was a good idea. Sure enough, that very morning he found his owl on a bench outside Dawn Winery with a note attached to its foot.

“No questions, alright? Just get me something from Good Hunter as a thanks!” Usually he’d find your letters amusing, but he couldn’t help but let his heart drop ever so slightly upon seeing the speck of blood on the corner of the page.

DAINSLEIF !!

You had met Dainsleif enough times to be considered more than an acquaintance to him. As he travels across Teyvat, he still manages to frequent the tavern you work in. Every couple months you’d see the familiar tuft of blonde hair accompanying his eccentric appearance.

You were just an ordinary bartender, so Dainsleif wouldn’t dare try to involve you in his plans against the Abyss even if you held a vision. All of his plans managed to endanger even the Traveler after all.

He mentioned something about a precious item related to Khaenri’ah that he needed, and just his luck you knew a couple visitors to the tavern that could aid him. But they weren’t the most approachable people.

“I can get you a couple leads, only catch is that no questions will be asked, ‘kay?” A bad feeling buried itself in your stomach every time he mentioned something about the fallen kingdom, yet you still offered.

After giving the offer a moment’s thought, he agreed, warning you to be careful.

The next week he came back, but you weren’t there, instead Dainsleif was greeted by another bartender covering your shift. Curious, he asked what happened with you, the only answer he received was that you managed to overwork yourself and got sick. The bartender swiftly handed him a paper filled with leads for the item.

He swore to come back to properly repay you after he completes his investigation.

[sensitivehandsomeactionman]

350 fans attended. 10 fans per table. Buffet style. It took a long time for us to all get our food, pick a seat and sit down. 10 minutes later, Jensen and Steve walked in and greeted all of us from the stage.

Jensen started by explaining how they got this panel idea: because he often gets band related questions in panels and he feels bad about it sometimes, because not everyone with him is involved and they couldn't weigh in. (He jokingly lowered his voice)"Jared", and he doesn't want anyone to feel left out. And also, the only person(s) who could answer Radio Company related questions are either him or Steve. So they got the idea of doing a panel specifically for music related questions together and since we are in Texas, BBQ!

How do they collaborate with each other? Jensen said Steve is the more musically talented of the two, he is the one who could read music and communicate with professionals and explain what they need. Jensen just, he considers himself as having sharp ears. He might not know what exactly something was called but he knows when something just sounds right (or wrong), just by listening to it. And Steve is the one who enriches and develops from his hunch, and communicates with other professional musicians to work on them. Because, Jensen admits, he does not have the vocab of all those technical terms.

They did a little demonstration with guitar, Jensen strung a simple tune and gestured to Steve, and Steve was like, "You want me to do it here, now?" but he picked it up and made it into a much more complex melody and Jensen laughed, "now you are just showing off!" Steve mentioned it's like Jensen's "acting stuff" and Jensen fake astonished like, "Acting STUFF?" And Steve was like, How would I know what you do? All I know is you were always off busy doing your...stuff!

City Grown Willow. It's a song Steve wrote as a gift to a couple of his friends 10 years ago. The husband was from Colorado (cowboy) and wife from LA. They had split up now but they were a great couple. And the song was just kind of put on the shelf after it was written. One day Jensen and Steve were trying some music together, and Jensen asked Steve if he has anything that's already baked. Steve said you know most of my stuff already! You were there when I wrote them! Then he suddenly remembered, oh there is this one...and afterwards Jensen was like, can I have it? And that's how it came to be.

How did they first start? They were both from Texas and became friends in the good old days. Early 2000s they were roommates in Vancouver and Steve sometimes recorded at home. When he was recording his first album, Jensen walked in and was like, what is that? I love the song. He casually sang the harmony and Steve was like, I didn't know you could sing? Jensen was humble about it and said something like, Yeah I could carry a tune now and then. But Steve was so impressed he insisted for Jensen to record it properly right there. Well they were at home anyway so, no biggy? And Steve ended up using Jensen's harmony for that song in his first album. And it went from there. They've collaborated together and developed more than 50 songs now.

Austin summer! Hhh Steve is an Austin local. He said every year he gave a birthday concert. It's a small gathering, just for friends. And this year is the 10th anniversary and everyone was like, Steve, could we do it anywhere but Austin for this year? August, too hot! And he was like, well, yeah, all right. And then Jensen called, and his 10th anniversary concert was still held in Austin! Last week. Jensen said, Well, it was meant to be! Also Jensen: I used to live here! Austin is great! But not in June, July, August, and sometimes throw in September too. Never liked Austin summer, and why did creation choose August I have asked this question for a year now.

Fans asked him what he misses most about Texas and he said, I don't? I am still here all the time. I am here now, I was here a few weeks ago and then a few weeks before that. My whole family's still here my mom and dad are in Dallas I often visit them. So I kind of... I didn't catch what he said after that but I got the idea that he thinks of himself more like commuting, instead of permanently moved out.

They mentioned an Easter egg they put in one of their songs, they used the exact same letters for 2 sentences and they were really proud of it and high fives each other all excited afterwards. I think it might be All Our Own but I'm not sure. Maybe someone else remembers?

The new song Home on the Road Jensen was shooting Rust in New Mexico and rented a small house next to the Rio Grande river. It's quiet and out of the way and he walks on riverbank trail on his day off and loved it. When Steve visited and they tried to hum a tune out and once they got it, the first words came out of Jensen for that tune was "home on the road". Just like that little house, his home on the road. Both him and Steve travel so much for work, it resonated. And they wrote the song. They said it's not polished yet but they sang it for us anyway. The tune reminded me of City Grown Willow. I think it'll become my new favorite.

If they were invited to perform in ACL festival will they go? Jensen: No!! Steve: Ugh definitely? Jensen: So here is your answer. Steve will drag me kicking and screaming to there. They laughed so hard and then Jensen said, no any time you have a chance to perform in that capacity, of course you go.

Talked about Kaleo and JJ. J2 and JJ are friends and they get together whenever JJ visits and they'd love to collaborate together if ever get the chance. This is all I could recall!

[junosmindpalace]

Hello! I absolutely love all your Dr Stone works!! Especially about Senku, so now I want to make a request. Can you do Senku fluff alphabet? Senku and reader are in relationship. I am not fluent in English, I hope you understood everything, thank you!!

hi there! thank you for your request! i’ve never done a fluff alphabet omg this was so fun. these are pretty much the same everywhere i looked but i specifically took questions from @ arlertdarling !

synopsis: your relationship with senku from a-z.

( A ) AFFECTION — how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?

senku’s biggest and most prominent love language is very obviously acts of service, and even then they can be seemingly indirect or misleading. he typically frames the things he does as doing them for his own benefit, but they obviously benefit you as well. he’s a little more open with doing you favors or kind acts for no particular reason other than to help you or make you smile just because you two are so close and know each other so well.

perhaps if you’ve been together for a while, he’ll allow some physical affection from you, but typically never initiates it himself outside of gently tugging your hand to lead you somewhere or grabbing your shoulder(s), placing a hand on your lower back or what not to guide you elsewhere. he also tends to get more physical if you are/were in danger for obvious reasons. it's more so reassurance for him that you’re alright and being right there to help immediately in case something is wrong.

words of affirmation is a close second in terms of love languages. he can be really encouraging with his words when you need a pick me up, and really moving when you just need some reassurance when things feel too hectic.

( B ) BEST FRIEND — what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?

your friendship developed from your occasional bump ins when he’d be in the middle of an experiment. you’d always look on at him in awe, and eventually invited yourself to sit and watch and ask him questions, which he had no qualms at all with answering. from there you would watch and help out with his experiments more regularly.

he’s not a friend that's too high maintenance. whether you come to visit him in the science club room every day or once every couple of weeks, senku doesn’t treat you any less like a friend, or at the very least a well acquainted schoolmate. he’s fun to be around, however. someone you can go to if you’re bored and will always encourage you in your own hobbies. it’s your mutual dedication and passion for the things you love that make you two so close.

( C ) CUDDLES — do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?

not a big cuddler, but he can get a little clingy when he’s sleeping. he tends to curl in on himself, but if you happen to be in the vicinity, he might subconsciously reach for you. at best, he feels comfortable enough to lay his head on your thighs or stomach with an arm wrapped loosely around your waist or on top of your stomach. you make sure to avert any sort of conversation related to this when he wakes up, subtly maneuvering him off your lap as he sits up with a drowsy look on his face as to avoid embarrassing him or making him uncomfortable. you can tell he sometimes realizes what happened, but never outwardly says so--and never tells you to push him away, either.

( D ) DOMESTIC — do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?

not an incredibly prevalent thought. at best its fleeting if hes thinking about it at all. he’s probably very indifferent to the idea of marriage and having children, and even simply living a simple existence just isn’t his style.

in terms of chores, he probably does them fairly well, except it would probably take him a couple of reminders and has a bad habit of leaving messes from all the time he spent alone preoccupied with his experiments. however the fact that he managed his home by himself a lot probably means he’s good at doing them, but like any person, it’s probably a pain for him.

( E ) ENDING — if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

probably finds a suitable time to talk to you somewhere private and flat out tells you he wants to end things. it seems harsh, but there’s no reason to beat around the bush. his tone of voice and expression are far from emotionless, however. he keeps himself composed and steady for the most part, but you can see that it also pains him from the slight waver and strain in his voice, and from the creases in between his brows and lines on his forehead. he makes sure to do his best to let you down as gently as he thinks he can and doesn’t judge you for any sort of emotions you feel or express toward him.

( F ) FIANCÉ — how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?

again, marriage is probably a very fleeting thought for senku and something he’s for the most part indifferent toward. he doesn’t feel commitment needs to be cemented through a ceremony or new marriages titles or a piece of paper; he cares about you and loves you, and doesn’t need a ring on his finger to remind him to be unwaveringly loyal. maybe would make fun of some wedding and marriage traditions, but even though he himself would probably never suggest marriage, if it means something to you, he doesn’t see the big deal in going through with it--though he probably wouldn’t be all for a ceremony or anything too grand.

( G ) GENTLE — how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

it really depends on the circumstances. sometimes senku can come off somewhat harsh to a person who isn’t all that familiar with him, but it typically isnt his intention, especially not with you. for the most part your relationship is mostly comprised of teasing and playful banter, but when you tend to get more personal and sensitive, the gruffness in his voice quiets down and becomes a lot gentler.

this also goes with physical touch. he sometimes tends to just randomly pull at you to follow him certain places, and of course if you’re in any potential danger, but his touch can also be super soft and reassuring, typically when you’re expressing insecurity or hard feelings of some kind.

( H ) HUGS — do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?

like said with cuddling, not a big hugger. grand pda is just not his thing, but he won’t always refuse it. if its you, he’s probably a little more willing to be touchy, but it doesn’t happen all too often. most of the time its you initiating the hug, whether its draping over him mid experiment or hugging him from behind as he takes note of something, and usually he doesnt comment on it or move away, simply letting himself exist in your arms as he does whatever he’s doing and continuing your conversation normally. he might sometimes rub his hand over yours or place his arm under your elbow when he turns around to face you with a fond gaze even despite his smirk and teasing tone.

( I ) I LOVE YOU — how fast do they say the L-word?

he has yet to say it outright as a single phrase, but its obvious that he says it in more indirect ways. in the kind things he does for you, in the concern he expresses when you feel low about something or might be in danger, in the ways he motivates you when you feel hopeless and insecure. and when you teasingly call him out for all of these kind things, he scoffs and rolls his eyes and will occasionally say things along the lines of “i love when you ____”. still, it’s rare even if he says this, and he’s usually very nonchalant when he does, but you can take notice of the slight shyness in his voice from the way it quiets just a slight bit and his eyes hold a softer expression.

still, it takes him a bit to get to this point. a lot of familiarizing yourselves with one another, getting more personal and proving yourself over and over as someone reliable and admirable makes it easier and easier for senku to express these feelings for you. and though he doesn’t say the L word out loud, he definitely thinks it with every impressive feat you manage to accomplish or witty remark you make that only solidify his reasoning as to why he’s with you in the first place.

( J ) JEALOUSY — how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?

not incredibly often, but it’s not unheard of. it’s mostly when hes already overwhelmed with a lot on his plate, and seeing someone chatting you up, even if there wasn’t any flirty intention behind their words or actions, just irritates senku, and he’ll usually break it up by yelling at them to focus up on their work or guiding you away to help him with something else, calling over his shoulder “shouldn’t you be doing ____? how about getting on that instead of distracting our crew?”

it can be subtle, but it can also be very obvious, which leads to people making some teasing remarks toward him for it, but he mostly ignores them. same with classmates, he’ll just redirect their attentions away from you and swoop in to show you something of his own.

( K ) KISSES — what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?

like hugs, he’s not the biggest kisser, and he’s not the one initiating them. he’s sort of (very) awkward when it comes to kissing in the early stages of your relationship, and it takes a good amount of time before he eventually stops stiffening as much over a kiss on the cheek.

of course you don’t force him into anything he’s uncomfortable with, and have no problem not kissing him, but you can tell from the way he’s more relaxed when you lean over to give him a quick peck when he has a smirk or a pout on the lips that he’s grown to like them just a slight bit on occasion.

if he had to decide on a favorite spot to receive kisses, he’d maybe say his temple. if he were to ever initiate a kiss for you, it would be somewhere less noticeable and in private, such as on your inner wrist or knuckles.

( L ) LITTLE ONES — how are they around children?

so good. he’s stupidly good with them. he doesn’t even do anything consciously to try to appeal to them for the most part; they’re just drawn to his experiments and funny words, and of course senku for the most part indulges them, so he becomes popular pretty quickly.

it’s incredibly endearing to see him interact and form a relationship with the children of ishigami village, watching their curious heads peek from behind his shoulder or back at his experiments and petting their hair when they crowd around him, eagerly asking to play or show them more cool modern inventions.

sometimes he might whisper in their ears to go over to you to watch you do whatever it is you’re most skilled at, and you know immediately whose responsible for the sudden eager crowd of little people around you when your gaze meets senku’s and he shoots you a smirk, with you rolling your eyes in retaliation.

( M ) MORNING — how are mornings spent with them?

maaaaybe slightly controversial take but i think it takes him a bit to properly wake himself up. he’s pretty groggy in the mornings and isn’t fully ready to start the day until an hour or two after he wakes up. however, i can see the sleepiness fading from his system a lot quicker than it does for most people, so if you were to see him at school in the mornings or in a classroom, he’s annoyedly outgoing and cheerful for your taste. still, if you were to spend your mornings together even before all that, you’re usually spending them in silence or having quiet and short conversation.

( N ) NIGHT — how are nights spent with them?

arguably worse than mornings, but this time he’s keeping you awake. he doesn’t go to bed till probably around midnight, and most of his studying time is probably spent in the evenings. if either of you are sleeping over, usually senku has his nose in a book till his eyes get too heavy and he puts it down to rest. he either joins you already curled into bed passed out, or you sit beside him doing whatever you do in the evenings as he sleeps. nights are not all that eventful for you personally, it’s mostly just being in each others’ presence while doing your own things, with occasional conversation here and there.

( O ) OPEN — when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly.

the more personal details about himself probably come later. definitely not an all at once person, and most of the time you just have to let him come to revealing stuff on his own terms. when he does, it’s during a time you’re being very sensitive and personal with each other, and it sort of slips out. either then or at another random time where he reveals something new about himself or his background very nonchalantly. you don’t usually call it out, but you’ll try to ask some questions to get him to expand and tuck the knowledge away.

again, he’s not the emotional type, so when it comes to himself and his more personal aspects, it can take a little longer to get information out of him compared to other stuff, such as his passion for and knowledge of science.

( P ) PATIENCE — how easily angered are they?

senku himself has said (if i remember correctly), that he gets irritated and is just good at disguising it. for him to be genuinely angry, however, i think would take quite a bit. he can be over the top in how he reacts when he’s annoyed, but it doesn’t come from a place of genuine rage.

i think in order to anger him, you’d have to insult something he deeply cares about repeatedly, or threaten it. and even then he’s usually good at not letting himself go crazy over it.

he’s rarely ever angry with you, if not at all. you’re both familiar with your banter and teasing, and you know what lines not to cross or not to take certain comments too personally.

( Q ) QUIZZES — how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?

generally very good at remembering things about you. you don’t expect him to remember every slight off hand comment you make, but he often manages to surprise you when he brings up details that even you forgot you ever shared with him.

he cares about you a lot, and though he’s already pretty attentive, it only enhances when it comes to you discussing aspects about yourself. he’s interested in learning about you, from your hobbies to your fondest memory. whatever it may be, he usually is able to recall it.

( R ) REMEMBER — what is their favourite moment in your relationship?

he likes any sort of moment where he’s spending time with you working on an experiment or discussing something science related. working on the thing he’s most passionate about with the person he loves and cares for the most? those are his favorite times, especially since you’re always so enthusiastic about them, asking him question after question and helping him complete the experiment.

he also likes being able to indulge, and you encouraging him and taking an interest yourself is something he really appreciates. he also thinks it’s incredibly endearing to see you so passionate and curious, and very attractive when you explain your own research and demonstrate your own knowledge and skill. he never forgets how much you contribute to his own growth because of this.

( S ) SECURITY — how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?

not overly protective unless you were in some sort of danger. even if there was potential for you to get hurt, he still isn’t the most overbearing in his concern. of course, he still likes to do whatever he can to prevent any danger (though he knows you’re capable of handling yourself, it’s more so for his own peace of mind and he just can’t admit to it), and so he does insist you wear protective gear and gives you tools to help you do your job more efficiently in the stone world.

he wouldn’t want you to step in and prevent him from doing anything, but the best way you could protect him is in the same way he protects you—by having his back. being there to provide him with the resources and support he needs in any given situation, especially dangerous ones or endeavors he very passionate about.

( T ) TRY — how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

unless you’re a person who doesn’t really like to celebrate relationship milestone or events, senku will make at least some sort of effort to commemorate the moments somehow. again, it’s through more subtle and indirect means, but eventually you’re able to piece together why he seems to be a little nicer and more sentimental on those kinds of days.

gifts are also not always the most straightforward and are usually practical and science related, hand crafted by senku himself, which makes you appreciate them all the more. sometimes they can be too straightforward and basic, however. but if he knows there’s something specific you’ve been indecisive about getting, or a certain place you’ve been meaning to visit, he might surprise you with a trip or take that push to make that purchase for you.

he goes about his everyday tasks outside of science like any other person—or any other teen. he does well in school and helps out around the household with chores.

( U ) UGLY — what would be some bad habits of theirs?

can maybe get a little too distanced from his emotions. he has a bad habit of breaking intimate moments in favour of teasing, but it mostly stems from his own discomfort toward that sort of stuff. he gets better at handling it further into your relationship, but it’s a habit he still has trouble completely breaking down.

he also has a habit of getting too caught up in his experiments. there are certain days where all he wants to do is work, and sometimes that means making the people around him join in and help him. once he’s got his mind on something he’s determined to see it through, and this typically happened often where he wouldn’t pull away from the experiment or project until he gave himself a designated break or was forced to stop due to external factors.

( V ) VANITY — how concerned are they with their looks?

next to not at all. senku can understand wanting to look presentable, but the last thing on his mind is whether or not he should cut his hair a certain way or wear his shirt in a certain style (he’s never expressed a problem with his cowlicks).

he’s probably never stressed out that much about the way he’s perceived in terms of personality either. perhaps only when it came to testing his physical limits or dressing up in clothes that aren’t his own personal style (as seen in the wardrobe montage). but overall he’s not hyperfiaxfing on it, not even to try to impress you (he naturally cleans up well).

his close friends might tell you that he tends to subconsciously adjust his clothes or straighten his back when you walk into a room, however.

( W ) WHOLE — would they feel incomplete without you?

i don’t think so. senku has his own passions and goals and many other people who share them and that he’s close with. he definitely doesn’t need one specific person to make him feel like himself, and that’s one thing you greatly admired about him.

still, just because he thinks he can get by without you doesn’t mean he wants to. he’s always trying to include you in aspects of his life, and you’ve become such a big part of it that it would take him a long time to actually heal from not having you around.

he can’t deny that though it doesn’t feel soul crushing to be apart from you for so long, he can feel a more comfortable and reassuring feeling when he’s by your side.

( X ) XTRA — a random headcanon for them!

he’s really good at impressions thanks to his dad. it’s one of those habits that he really didn’t like but ended up rubbing off on him from how often byakuya did them, and every time he catches himself doing an impression or talking to himself in another voice, he physically stops whatever he’s doing and groans about how he “sounds just like my old man” or “is turning into my old man”.

it makes you laugh though, so he doesn’t feel as embarrassed doing them when he’s voicing a hypothetical situation of some sorts when he’s explaining something to do. if anything, your laughter only encourages him.

( Y ) YUCK — what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

a person who lacks ambition and curiosity. he doesn’t get how he could relate to a person like that at all, let alone spend the rest of his life with them. his partner doesn’t need to be as fiercely passionate about science as he is, but he wouldn’t want a partner that has absolutely no big interests hobbies or skills. those kinds of people seem like the ones he’d be least compatible with.

( Z ) ZZZ — what are their sleep habits?

most of the time tries to get at least 8 hours of sleep, but sometimes tends to get a little less. it’s important for him to have a healthy sleeping cycle/schedule so his brain and body can work to their full capacity. he can still function without a lot of it, but it’s harder on his mental and physical strength, so it’s even more important that he gets enough to keep him going throughout the day.

very rarely pulls an all nighter. has definitely pulled a couple, but it’s not often enough to have his body adjust to simply two hours of sleep without any side effects.

like i said before, he tends to cuddle in on himself, wrapping the blanket over his shoulders so he’s completely covered. cannot sleep well in the heat, so he’d rather be freezing at night. adjusts himself maybe a couple of times throughout the night, from curling against your leg to turning his back toward you.

[guiltyasdave]

only bought this dress so you could take it off

series masterlist • this is part I

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

a/n: I was on my summer vacation last week, and I’m suffering from severe Dave York brainrot lately, which inspired a vivid daydream of Dave taking me on a little trip and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I was planning to keep it a oneshot, but there are so many more ideas for this floating around in my head, so a part 2 miiight be happening. Please read the warnings, this one’s nasty! (it’s the murder daddy energy)

word count: ~10.4k (this was supposed to be a nice little pwp, idk what happened) (Dave was holding me at gun-point)

summary: You have been sleeping with Dave York for a few months, keeping things casual, when he suggests to go on vacation together. You’re not sure what to expect, but you agree, and Dave takes very good care of you.

warnings: bits of angst, dubious morality (Dave is cheating on his wife), kinda unhealthy relationship dynamics, age-gap implied, alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, Dave pulls her hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, rough sex, semi-public touching, sir kink, degradation kink, rough oral sex (m receiving), unprotected piv (reader is on bc in my head, but it’s not mentioned in the fic), dirty talk, Dave is a menace, spanking, choking, edging, spit kink, restraints, idiots in love, let me know if I missed any!

this is explicit 18+ content, minors do not interact pleaseeeee

Your phone starts buzzing on your work desk around 8 AM. You just got into the office and are starring at your monitor blankly, nursing a to-go cup of too expensive coffee and questioning your life choices. A regular Tuesday really.

You groan and flick your eyes down to your phone, your mind way too exhausted to deal with whoever is trying to contact you right now. You read the name on the screen and do a double take, your tiredness immediately forgotten. You hastily grab the device and press the green button to accept the call.

“Hey,” you say, trying your best not to sound just as eager as you suddenly feel. He doesn’t need to know the effect a simple call from him has on you.

“Good morning, sweetheart. What took you so long to answer, huh?” his voice sounds in your ear, calm and composed as always, but with a hint of teasing. You bite your lip, thankful that he can’t see how just hearing him speak has a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“S-sorry, just work and everything, you know?”

You can’t help the little sigh that you let out -work really has been a nightmare lately- and he chuckles sympathetically.

“You poor thing. Speaking of work, I actually have a favor to ask you.”

He knows fully well that he doesn’t need to ask you favors - you’d give him everything he wants, without question. His usual demanding tone is lacing his words and you involuntary clench your thighs together. God, you’re down so bad for this man.

This, as you need to keep reminding yourself, married man, who lives the perfect suburban life with his wife and their two kids. He’s not in love with you, you’re well aware of that, and you’re trying your hardest not to fall in love with him either.

You don’t know what exactly is going on between him and his wife and you don’t pry. He’s told you that things between them aren’t working out anymore and that they’ve agreed to stay together and play happy family until their girls are older. You’re not dumb, you know that this is the kind of story that every cheating man tells the other woman. And you’d probably call him out on his bullshit, if he were any other man. Hell, you wouldn’t have gotten involved with any other married man in the first place.

But Dave isn’t just any man and he’s got you wrapped around his finger ever since you met in a hotel bar a few months ago. You had just been stood up at said bar and Dave had been on a business trip, spending the night there. He came up to you, looking more handsome than any man should have the right to, bought you a drink and had you following him up to his room in the blink of an eye, which led to sex that was easily the best you had ever had.

Now, Dave calls you regularly, mostly when he’s close enough to meet up, but also some nights when he whispers filthy things into your ear until you come on your own fingers because he is too far away to put his hands on you.

You like to think that he cares about you, that you’re not just the willing means to an end and that you can actually give him something that he can’t get anywhere else. Something soft, a person that cares for him and gives him the chance to be soft as well. Because they exist, those moments of softness, in between tangled sheets and laughs shared in the darkness of your room, his fingers mindlessly dancing over your body when he thinks you’re already asleep and his lips pressed against yours a little too urgently when he’s saying goodbye to you.

But most of the time, Dave doesn’t like to care. He also doesn’t like to be soft. He’s ruthless, his edges sharp like a knife and he likes coming at you hard. He doesn’t tell you exactly what he does for a living, but you suspect that it’s dangerous and violent. He needs an outlet, somewhere he can let his aggressions run free, someone he can control.

This, you can definitely give him. You let him take it out on you when things get too much, you give up all control to him, and you love it. And he knows that you do. Sometimes you wonder if that’s the only reason he’s keeping you around, but you can’t bring yourself to believe it.

So, when your phone lights up with his name, you answer, trying to conceal your desperation to hear his voice, the hold he has on you, even if you’re fighting a losing battle. And when he’s asking for a favor, you hum questioningly, even though you already know that your answer will be “yes”.

“Take the next week off, and pack a bag. I’m having a few free days, so we’re going away for a bit, I’m picking you up on Saturday.”

He’s basically giving you an order, not stopping to ask if you’ve already got plans, if this might be a bad time, anything. Do this, be there, stat. Because he knows that you will do as he says and you know it, too.

Excitement bubbles up in you, the prospect of spending a whole week with Dave, something of a vacation, from what it sounds like, is more than you had ever allowed yourself to even daydream about. This is not what your relationship is about, it’s not what you do. Except that… apparently it is?

“I- okay, yes. That- that sounds great, Dave.” Your delight at his proposal is clear in your voice. “Where are we going? What do I need to pack? Do I need to prepare anything?”

He chuckles again and you can picture him shaking his head.

“No doll, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Just bring your passport and pack for warm weather. And, sweetheart?” His voice drops an octave and he’s basically purring in your ear. “The sluttier, the better.”

He hangs up without waiting for your answer. You’re left to spend the rest of your workday in a daze, your panties soaked and your head busy with already cataloguing your entire closet and which things you’ll pack.

The days pass you by in weird chunks of time. On one hand, you can’t wait for Saturday, while on the other hand, you feel terribly unprepared, causing anxiety to creep up on you several times throughout the week. Every vacation you’ve ever been on has been meticulously organized and planned out by yourself and the lack of knowledge that you’re dealing with right now is entirely foreign to you.

What if you need a certain vaccine for wherever you’re going and you don’t have it? What if the flight has an early check-in that you need to take care of? Has Dave booked a hotel? How are the reviews? What do you need to prepare for?

The nervous urge to be ready for every kind of situation that you can’t satisfy right now is threatening to drive you crazy and you need to remind yourself more than once that this is Dave that you’re dealing with. Not one of your ex-boyfriends that would’ve come up with some half-assed plan that lacked in several vital points and required you to take care of things yourself eventually.

Dave is even more thorough than you, he doesn’t leave anything up to chance and he doesn’t forget things. You’re still reeling from the mere fact that he’s planning to take you away for a whole week. You’ve never spent that much uninterrupted time together and you honestly hadn’t thought that he would want to. This is couple stuff. And you’re not a couple. You’re just someone he sleeps with occasionally. You need to remember at least that.

You have texted him a few times, trying to get more information about the trip, but he hasn’t budged. You only manage to find out that he’ll come pick you up Saturday morning and that you’ll be gone for a whole week. And that you should pack a lot of bikinis.

“You make sure you’ll look good for me, and I’ll take care of the rest,” his text read. Followed up by a stern, “Stop worrying.”

You try taking his words to heart and get prepared in the one way you can: Buying lots of skimpy dresses and bikinis. You vividly picture him taking them off of you and it works. You do stop worrying.

Saturday finally rolls around and you’re ready, suitcase fully packed and dressed in a skirt so short that it will probably have you freezing your ass off on the airplane, but you can hardly bring yourself to care.

His taxi finally pulls up to your apartment building and he jumps out to meet you while the driver loads in your suitcase. You can’t help the giddy smile that’s on your face when Dave’s arms envelop you and your lips are on his before he even gets a greeting out. He chuckles as he kisses you softly, one of his hands cupping the back of your head, before he pulls away slightly to look at you. You’re breathless; the sight of him in his crisp shirt, the top two buttons undone to show off a sliver of his broad chest, his sharp jawline and those brown eyes trained firmly on you already enough to drive you a little crazy with need for him.

“Miss me that much, huh?” he murmurs against your lips, one hand still in your hair while the other one trails down to the hem of your skirt and skims the backside of your thighs before he gives your ass a rough squeeze. You nod quickly as a breath leaves you, not quite a moan but enough to clearly show him the effect his touch immediately has on you.

“Desperate little thing,” he grins and adds a playful slap to your backside before pecking your lips again and leading you towards the waiting car.

He slips in beside you, his hand immediately finding your thigh again and gently rubbing against the bare skin, creeping below your skirt’s hem again and again as you take off in the direction of the airport.

You’re falling into your familiar routine with him, the first effects of seeing him and the flare of your chemistry with each other calming down a little and allowing you to actually talk with him like a normal person, not a lovesick teenager. You’re filling each other in on the few weeks since you last saw each other, the little occurrences that you wanted to tell him about but didn’t have the opportunity to at the time. He’s not much of a texter and you understand that; he’s busy with his job and his family whose existence you still need to keep reminding yourself of.

His large hand doesn’t leave your thigh once throughout the drive, keeping a hold on you that feels especially possessive whenever his grip tightens. At the airport he grabs both of your suitcases and purposefully strides off, leaving you to walk beside him with nothing but your little purse. It’s not a grand gesture by any means, but still, no one has ever taken care of things for you like this and your want for him is bubbling inside of you.

He drops your baggage off at check-in and hands you your boarding pass. You can’t help the squeal that you let out when your eyes find the destination and you excitedly throw your arms around him.

“Are you serious? How did you know that I always wanted- But Dave, that’s SO much, I can’t have you pay for all this, I-“

He shushes you gently, though you can tell that he’s clearly pleased with how happy you are about where you’re going. He presses a kiss to the crown of your hand and rubs his hands over your shoulders.

“Of course you can. I wanted to do something nice for you, sweetheart, you’ve been so stressed out lately. And I-,” he trails off, looking almost a little bashful, “I wanted to spend my time off with you, without interruptions, you know.”

You think that he wants to add more, but he doesn’t, his expression slightly regretful like he accidentally said too much already. He barely verbalizes his feelings and you don’t push it.

“Thank you Dave, it’s- thank you. I really appreciate it.”

You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss him softly, trying to convey what you feel but can’t put into words. How you’re not even there yet and it’s already more than anyone has ever done for you. How ‘I wanted to spend my time off with you’ has butterflies erupting in your stomach, no matter how hard you try to suppress them. How it has you wondering if maybe, just maybe, you might be more for him than just the girl that he’s fucking on the side because his marriage is shitty. How much you wish that you were.

But you don’t have time to ponder all this because he possessively wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you off towards security control, then to the gate where he gets you your favorite Starbucks without even asking for your order, and onto the plane, where he lets you have the window seat and his hand finds its way back onto your thigh.

You brought a book to read on the flight but you can’t make it through one page without losing your focus. Dave’s hand keeps climbing higher and higher, alternating between gripping your inner thigh tightly and drawing featherlight circles on the soft skin, and the heat that had been smoldering within you since you first laid eyes on him today is slowly but steadily becoming too much to bear.

Dave seems annoyingly unaffected, his face as composed as ever as he asks questions about your book, and you know that he notices the way you’re squirming in your seat, and how much he’s enjoying the fact that he’s the one to make you act like this.

You’re in the middle of a sentence when his fingers suddenly move all the way up your thigh and brush lightly against the fabric of your underwear. It’s a barely-there touch, but you’re so wound up that it’s enough to cause you to interrupt yourself with a loud gasp. He retracts his hand the tiniest bit, still hovering between your thighs, and tuts at you.

There’s a dark glint in his eyes that hasn’t been there moments before. You know this look and it takes everything in you to not clench your thighs together in anticipation of what’s to come. He raises an eyebrow, the condescension written clear on his face and his voice a low rumble, quiet enough for only you to hear.

“Shhh, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want everyone on here to know how much of a slut you are for me, now would we? Huh?”

He pinches the soft flesh on your inner thigh roughly when you don’t answer fast enough and you bite your lip, suppressing the whine that is threatening to come out of you.

“N-no…” you whisper and Dave arches his eyebrow even higher, looking at you expectantly. You gulp.

“No, sir.”

A small smile plays around his lips and he places a kiss on your cheek. “Good girl,” he mutters and his hand creeps up again until he’s rubbing against your panties, which you know are absolutely soaked by now. Your hips chase his touch and he chuckles darkly as he withdraws his fingers, completely this time, until he’s holding them up to your face. You can tell that the fingertips are shiny with the arousal that leaked through the fabric and you feel yourself blushing.

“Lick it off,” he demands, and your eyes widen.

“H-here?” you dare to ask. His gaze hardens.

“You wanna talk back to me?” His voice is calm, but you can sense the tension that’s rolling off of him. You should be disgusted, both by his request and the way that he’s talking to you, but you’re not. This is how you want him, how you crave him.

You shake your head hastily, acutely aware that questioning him was probably enough to get you into serious trouble later on. The thought sends another wave of desperate arousal through you.

“Then lick. It. Off. I’m not gonna tell you again.”

His tone is clipped, his face a hard mask, but your eyes flick down momentarily and the growing bulge in his pants tells you that he’s not as unaffected by the situation as he wants you to believe. You train your eyes back to his face and hold his gaze as you lean forward and obediently clean his fingers with tiny kitten licks. His jaw tenses as he finally draws his fingers back from your tongue and runs them across your cheek, smearing the traces of your spit there.

A small whine slips out of your throat as you feel fresh wetness flooding your panties and he grins before he kisses you again, murmuring a “Good girl” against your lips. He leans back into his seat, his hand finding an almost innocent position close to your knee.

“Why don’t you read a little more, sweetheart? We’ll be there soon.”

He flashes you a smile that could pass as genuine but you catch the glint in his eyes as he clocks your dazed expression and your slightly parted lips. You nod dumbly and pick the book back up, but not a single word that you read actively registers in your mind.

You try catching glances at Dave, until by the fourth time, he pinches your chin between his fingers and turns your head back forward. “I said, read,” he murmurs into your ear. You know he gets off on this stuff, giving you stupid little orders. And on the fact that you let him. That you get off on it, too.

Your arrival happens in a blur. Dave leads you off the plane and through the smallest airport you’ve ever been to. Your brain is still a bit muddled from the unsatisfied arousal he’s ignited in you and now you’re excitedly turning your head left and right, trying to get in as many impressions as you possibly can. You’re not paying close attention to what’s happening and you’re thankful for the way Dave is taking charge without question. You’re happy to link you fingers through his and let him lead you wherever you need to go.

He retrieves your luggage, walks you out of the airport and to a waiting car. You spend the drive staring out of the window, your eyes wide, taking in all the beauty around you. It’s like you’ve arrived in literal paradise. You tell Dave as much and he chuckles, lifting your hand up to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss against your knuckles. The unexpectedly sweet gesture has you blushing and a soft smile plays around his lips.

The hotel is, quite frankly, insane. If you had been worried about the amount of money that he’s spent on this trip before, it pales in comparison to how you’re feeling now. The building is nestled against the foot of a mountain, lush green trees surrounding the front and the road leading up to the entrance, while it opens up to a small, private bay where turquoise waves calmly roll up against the whitest sand you’ve ever seen.

There’s glass walls everywhere, giving you an almost 360° view as you step into the lobby. You know that you’re gaping and Dave actually laughs at your expression as he walks you up to the reception desk to check in. You’re not listening closely, too busy taking in your surroundings and convincing yourself that this is your real life and not some extremely realistic daydream that you’re having while sitting at your work desk.

Dave finishes up and wraps an arm around your shoulders to lead you to the elevators, stepping inside and pressing the top button. The doors slide closed and you can barely think about the fact that you’re apparently staying on the top floor before you’re being whirled around and end up with your front pressed against the elevator wall with Dave’s hands roughly shoving up your skirt until your ass is exposed to him.

Your surprised giggle morphs into a moan as his hand comes down hard to slap it, before gripping the flesh so roughly that it borders on painful. He presses his body up against yours and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss as his other hand slides up to cup your breasts over your tank top.

“Dave- we can’t-,” you gasp just as the elevator comes to a halt and dings. He growls and flicks your skirt back down, but keeps you pressed against his side as the doors slide open again. Thankfully there’s no other people around on this floor to witness your surely utterly disheveled state.

The dark glint is back in his eyes as he drags you along to your room number. He stops in front of the door and turns you towards him, his eyes trained on your face as he stares you down. His voice is low, his tone calm and controlled, but somehow it’s more threatening than if he shouted at you.

“You think you get to tell me what we can and can’t do? You think that’s for you to decide?” His hand grabs your face, his fingers digging into your cheeks, and you whimper.

“N-no sir, I’m sorry, I just thought-“ He slaps your cheek, not hard enough for it to hurt, but enough to shut you up. Enough to remind you of your place in this dynamic. Your eyes flicker around hastily, your mind acutely aware of the fact that you’re in a public setting and that someone could walk in on this at any time. His hold returns your face, forcing you to look at him again.

“You don’t think, sweetheart. I decide and you listen, isn’t that right? If I want you to show off that slutty little ass of yours for everyone to see, then that’s what you’ll do.”

You nod to your best ability with his hand still grasping your face, mumbling another, “I’m sorry, sir.” You can barely think, the heat between your thighs almost making your legs buckle at this point. His thumb moves to play with your bottom lip and a cruel smirk grows on his face.

“You will be, doll. This is the third time you’ve disrespected me today. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, huh?”

“Yes, sir.” You can’t help the way you subconsciously bite your lip and you know that your desire is written all over your face, your pupils probably blown wide and your cheeks hot.

“Christ,” he chuckles and seals your lips with another kiss, “you’re a fucked up little thing.” You can only nod, prompting another laugh from him.

He steps up beside you and digs a keycard out of his pocket, holding it up against the door that responds with an affirmative beeping sound and a lock clicking. He pushes the handle down and swings the door open, holding it for you, a hand on the small of your back as you tentatively take a few steps inside.

The gasp you let out now isn’t fueled by your arousal, which is momentarily forgotten, but by your utter inability to believe what you’re seeing. You’re standing in a small hallway which opens up into a gigantic living room that’s probably bigger than your entire apartment and completely lined with glass walls, revealing a balcony and the shimmering sea several floors below you. You slowly walk to the adjoining bedroom that houses the easily biggest bed you’ve ever seen and a continuation of the glass walls. From what you can see, the en-suite bathroom features a lot of white marble.

You turn back to Dave, who has followed you silently and seems to expectantly take in your every reaction. “You’re crazy,” you tell him and he grins as you struggle for words. “This is- it’s so expensive, it’s- it’s too much, really. You’re crazy,” you repeat and he walks up to you to take your hands. His thumbs rub little circles over the skin and he smiles softly.

“As I said, I wanted to do something nice for you. You deserve it, sweetheart, you do.”

“But- but it’s-,” you trail off, mortified to realize that your bottom lip is trembling and your eyes are getting wet. You’re not going to cry in front of Dave, not because of a stupid hotel room. More like a fucking suite, your brain unhelpfully provides and your lip trembles harder. Dave quickly wraps his arms around your shoulders, his eyes searching your face.

“But it’s what?” he implores, his features displaying a look of such genuine concern that you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen on him before. “Sweetheart, do you not like it?”

You shake your head, trying to think of some way to explain that doesn’t make you seem totally pathetic. “It’s-,” you draw a deep breath, “it’s just- this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Like, ever. I just can’t believe you would- for me…” You trail off, not sure how to explain that you can’t grasp why he would be willing to spend this amount of money on you. “What I mean to say is, it’s beautiful. Just- thank you. Really, thank you.”

You smile at him and the relief is incredibly evident on his face before he pulls you into a hug, his arms engulfing you, one hand stroking you head softly. For once, his hands don’t wander down your body, he just holds you tight and you allow yourself to think that you could get used to this.

You feel awkward after your little breakdown, but Dave doesn’t mention it again. He lets you traipse around the suite to explore and unpack and follows you when you step out onto the balcony where you inhale deeply, enjoying the salty air and the view down to the bay. You think that it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life and you flash a beaming smile at him.

“You like it?” he checks again and you nod eagerly. “Good,” he mumbles and steps up behind where you’re leaning against the railing, one of his arms finding its way around your middle and his head resting on your shoulder. “That’s good.”

You stay like that a little while, taking in the scenery in front of you in peaceful silence, listening to the sound of the waves that roll against the shore and watching as the sun is sinking lower, a soft golden light spreading out across the sky and reflecting in the water.

Eventually, one of his hands slowly starts gliding up your torso. He cups your breast and his fingers graze your quickly pebbling nipple. You moan quietly and instinctually push your hips back against his crotch and the growing hardness there, which causes him to chuckle as he bends down to run his lips over your neck, leaving small kisses and bites on the sensitive flesh.

You’ve been riled up and let back down so many times today that you feel a bit crazed at this point, the need for him between your legs downright painful as you grind your hips against him and another desperate moan escapes you. “Dave, please… I need you.” Your head falls back against his chest and his other arm loops around your middle, pressing you against him as he tuts softly.

“So needy that you’re forgetting all your manners, huh?”

He pinches your nipple, hard, before his hand sneaks higher and loosely wraps around your throat. The anticipation of what is -hopefully- finally about to happen has you feeling lightheaded. You don’t care that you’re outside, that anyone could look up and easily spot you on the balcony, you would let him fuck you right there, as long as he just finally fucks you at all. You haven’t given him an answer and the hold around you throat tightens. Not enough for any real pressure, but enough to remind you of the power he holds over you.

“Please, sir,” you whine and he chuckles again.

“Not yet, doll,” he whispers into your ear and his hand leaves your throat, then he turns you around until you’re face to face. You can see that he wants you too, it’s written on his features clear as day, and you can barely fathom his level of self-restraint right now. You open your mouth, ready to beg again, ready to beg for anything to relieve the throbbing pain between your thighs, but he shakes his head curtly and even in your lust-filled haze, you know better than to keep going and shut your mouth again.

He grins at your obedience and gives your lips a quick kiss. “Good girl. You’ll get everything you want soon enough, don’t worry. Just gotta be patient a little more, okay?” You nod, and dazedly let him take your hand and lead you back into the bedroom. “But first, we’re gonna have a nice dinner. Think you’re gonna need the energy, doll.” His grin turns downright feral and a small shudder runs through you. “Show me what pretty things you packed, yeah?”

You hum your agreement and turn to rummage through the closet, pick out a dress and fresh underwear and wander off into the bathroom. You half-expect him to stop you and make you change in front of him, but he doesn’t say a word. Maybe seeing you naked would be even too much for his restraint right now.

You change into the dress; it’s one of the new ones that you bought only last week while daydreaming about how Dave would take it off of you. It’s a short silk dress, dark red and with an open back that basically only consists of a several straps that form a loose pattern over your skin, which is why you forego a bra and only pull on a black thong, a lacy, barely there scrap of fabric. You also redo your makeup, adding a lipstick in a shade that matches the dress and freshen up your hair, then step out into the bedroom again.

Dave is still wearing the black slacks that he wore all day, but seems to have changed into a new, creamy white dress shirt, while you were busy in the bathroom. The top three buttons are open, which is one more than usual, exposing more of his broad chest than you’re used to and you know that you’re wearing an expression of awe on your face. He’s so beautiful. He always is, he’s stupidly attractive, really, but it’s hitting you especially hard right now, in these new surroundings and with the prospect of having him all to yourself for one whole week.

He’s eyeing you as well, his gaze roaming hungrily over your body. You become acutely aware of just how short the dress is, how much of your naked skin is on display. You like your body, and you’re not ashamed of showing it off, but this place is fancy. You know you look good, but suddenly, you feel a bit awkward. “Is- is this okay? Because, I-,” you stammer a little, “I didn’t expect this kind of hotel and you said- you said you wanted slutty, so…” You trail off, biting you lip nervously.

Dave’s gaze softens. It’s giving you whiplash, how quickly he switches between the domineering, controlled, sexually charged persona that he’s displaying around you most of the time, and this sweeter, caring side. The side that wants to do something nice for you. He takes a step towards you.

“Turn around for me, sweetheart.”

You do, giving him a little twirl before turning back around and meeting his gaze. He looks… you don’t know how to describe it. The hunger for you that you’re familiar with is there, but it’s also something else, something… more. “You look perfect,” he assures you and you can’t help but believe him. Then he continues, “take off your underwear.” You blink at him and he cocks an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t want any panty lines when you’re looking so gorgeous with that pretty dress.”

You know fully well that the tiny thong that you’re wearing isn’t leaving any panty lines, but you also know better than to argue. The thought of having nothing to protect your modesty under the very short hem of your dress makes you feel exposed, a little uneasy, which is probably exactly what he wants. Always testing your limits, always looking to see how far he can push you, how far you’d go to please him.

You slide your thong off and make to toss it in the direction of your suitcase, but he clicks his tongue and holds his hand out towards you. You put it into his waiting hand and he stuffs it into the pocket of his pants. You suppose that he’s planning something and that you’ll get to know about it when he wants you to, which isn’t now, so you keep your mouth shut and step closer to him. “Dinner?” you ask softly and lean on your tiptoes to kiss him. He returns the kiss, his tongue entering your mouth swiftly, giving you a taste of how much he wants you, before he pulls back and grabs your hand instead, leading you out of the suite and back to the elevator.

It’s just the two of you when you get on, but two floors down, you’re being joined by an elderly couple who you greet politely. As soon as their backs are turned to you, Dave’s hand is under your dress, running a finger through your slick folds. You manage to swallow your surprised gasp, but flinch slightly, and you see him smirk out of the corner of your eye. He slides his finger up and down your slit, brushing your already oversensitive clit a few times, and you bite down hard on your lip to keep the sounds inside that threaten to spill out of you.

When the elevator finally stops, he withdraws his hand and waits until the couple is a few steps away from you, until he leans down to whisper in your ear, “Good girl, learned your lesson I see. Now, what do you say?”

“Thank you, sir,” you breathe, your legs a bit wobbly and your arousal already leaking out of you.

“That’s right.” He pats your ass in a sort of condescending appreciation and you follow him into the dining area.

The hotel’s restaurant is located on the first floor, a beautiful, light-filled space that opens onto a big terrace which seems to float over the ocean and gives you a gorgeous view of the sunset’s colors that have become even more intense since you left your room. You’re being led to a small table for two and you gape at the view, causing Dave to laugh at you again, but it’s a warm laugh, that feels like he’s genuinely happy about how much you’re enjoying yourself.

You try reading through the menu, but you know maybe half of the things that are on there, much less how anything tastes or what you would prefer. You shoot Dave a sort of helpless look and he grins. “Want me to order for you?” he asks and you nod gratefully, trying not to feel embarrassed about how out of your depth you are. He orders something, along with a bottle of red wine, which you very much appreciate. You don’t know much about wine, but this one tastes really good. It turns out that he ordered some kind of fish for you, that you still have no idea how to pronounce right, but now you know that it’s freaking delicious. You tell Dave as much and he gives you another smile that seems much too soft and overwhelmingly right at the same time.

Dinner with him is much easier than you had anticipated. Apart from your excitement about the whole trip, you had been a little nervous about spending an entire week with him, having to make much more conversation than you usually do. It’s not that you never talk, but sooner or later, you end up naked with him whispering filth into your ear. You don’t go out on hour long dates, maybe a drink at a bar, but no big dinners and extensive talks. Until now.

Now you know that he’s a great listener, making you feel heard and understood, never once giving you the impression that you’re boring him. You also learn more about him, about his past, though he stays vague about his current job and the situation with his family. But it’s nice, being with him like this. Another thing that you could get used to, but that’s also another thought to shove into some far away corner of your mind. Be thankful for what it is, don’t become greedy for more, you tell yourself.

After two glasses of wine and a dessert that you could have died for, watching the sun set over the ocean until the night sky took over, you’re buzzing with happiness, but also excitement for the next part of the evening. The whole dinner was better than you could have imagined, but you have also been turned on for hours, with the man that you want right in front of you. When Dave finally stands up and pulls your chair out for you, you all but jump up and flit to his side. He chuckles and looks at your eager face. “Don’t get too excited, sweetheart. Tonight isn’t gonna be all that fun for you.”

The dark glint in his eyes is back and you’re subconsciously clenching your thighs together. The simple thought of what he might do to you is enough to push the arousal that has been simmering inside of you to the forefront of your mind again. You’re amazed how quickly he can sink back into that domineering character that could make you do almost anything with a simple snap of his fingers. He wasn’t like that at dinner, he didn’t once give you the impression that you’re below him or that he doesn’t respect you, separating this sexual dynamic that you’ve established from other parts of your interactions with clean precision.

He leads you out of the restaurant, his fingers grazing the bare skin on your back and you’re once again reminded that you’re completely bare beneath the skimpy dress that you’re wearing. His hand dips lower, playing with the hem that feels like it’s barely covering your ass. Goosebumps are forming on you lower back and your thighs and he chuckles darkly.

He keeps playing with your dress during the elevator ride, his fingers sliding underneath and grazing your ass repeatedly, until you’re fully riled up again. You’re a little nervous now. He promised to be rough several times today and you don’t doubt that he will. You’re excited as well, you want him rough, crave his control over you, but still…

He takes out the key card and opens the door as you follow him quietly, waiting for instructions. You can feel the tension rolling off of him. As soon as the door clicks shut, he’s on you, crowding you back against it, his hands grabbing your wrists and pulling them up above your head while he leans down to capture your waiting lips.

The kiss is messy, all teeth and tongues as he devours your mouth, towering over you and keeping your wrists fixed to the door while his whole body is pressing into yours. You arch into him, helplessly trying to get him closer as you moan into his mouth when he bites at your lower lip, keeping it in between his teeth as he pulls back a little before letting it go. You whine, the quick stab of pain transforming into pleasure and traveling straight to your pussy, which causes you to spread your legs wider and grind your hips against him.

He gathers both your wrists in his large hand, still pressing them against the wall above your head, and lets his other hand roam over your body, grabbing at your waist, bunching up the dress there. “Looked so good tonight, all dolled up in your pretty dress…” he murmurs with his lips now dragging against the soft skin of your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking at the skin, “and all this just for me, sweetheart?” He bites down right below your ear and your hips buck against him.

“Yes, yes sir, fuck…”

Your breath catches in your throat when he abruptly pulls the neckline down to expose your breasts and scratches his fingernails over your nipples. He pinches one hardened bud between his nails and pulls slightly before he lets go and watches how the flesh bounces back, then he repeats the motion on the other side. You’re gasping, tears are welling up in your eyes, it hurts, but it hurts so good, your pussy is completely soaked and you just want him to finally, finally fill you up.

Then he steps back, his jaw flickers as he watches you, still pressed against the door, panting softly and with a dazed expression on your face.

“Get on your knees.”

You get down immediately, hoping against hope that maybe he’ll let you come sooner when you’re being good now. He allows himself a cold smile at your eagerness and steps closer until you have to crane your neck to look up at him. He opens his belt and slacks in sure, controlled movements, the only evidence of his own need for you being the massive bulge that’s right in front of your face. He doesn’t waste time, shoving his pants and underwear down in one move and letting his cock spring free.

You gasp quietly, your mouth opening on its own accord at the sight of his massive length and you look up at him hungrily. “Open wide,” he tells you softly, almost gently and you obey, sticking your tongue out and watching mesmerized as he lets his tip rest on your tongue for a few moments. He pulls back slightly, smearing a mix of your saliva and his pre-cum across your cheeks, then slapping you with his cock, which causes you to moan. “Filthy little thing,” he murmurs and sinks into your wet mouth in one hard thrust.

You gag almost immediately, your throat contracting around him and he groans as he grabs your head and holds you still. Tears well up in your eyes and you already feel lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. He finally lets go and you desperately suck in a lungful of air before he starts thrusting into your mouth again, hitting the back of your throat every time and causing you to choke around him. The way he pushes you around, uses you for his own pleasure has a new rush of wetness flooding your pussy and you’re itching to touch your clit, just a little bit.

He notices how you’re squirming beneath him, how one of your hands is inching closer between your legs and he stops his thrusts, his cock still taking up most of your mouth, and looks down at your face.

“You wanna touch yourself? You like having your face fucked like a whore?”

You nod as best as you can and hum desperately, gazing up at him through your tear-soaked lashes. He furrows his brow, looking down at you with that wicked glint in his eye. “You know how to ask properly, I didn’t hear you sweetheart,” he tells you, sinking even deeper into your throat and you fight to suppress another gag. You hum again and look at him pleadingly; he’s well aware that you can’t ask him anything with his cock filling your throat like this. “Guess you don’t want to, then,” he shrugs, “hands behind your back. You’re not touching that pussy without my permission.” You whine, your clit throbbing painfully for attention, but you obediently cross your wrists at the small of your back.

“Poor thing,” he coos and pats your head in mock-sympathy, then moves his hand back to hold you in place as he pounds into your throat with renewed force. You gag around him, tears flowing all over your face and drool streaming down your chin and onto your tits. He sinks into you again and again, holding you up by your head and making you sputter around him, desperate to somehow draw air into your lungs. “Take it,” he growls, “take it like the little slut you are, down on the floor for me. That’s how you like it, don’t you?” He finally pulls out of you and slaps your cheek when you don’t respond immediately. “Don’t you?!”

“Y-yes sir,” you rasp, gasping for breath, tears and spit still all over your face.

He crouches down cups the cheek that he just slapped, his thumb rubbing at the tear-stained skin under your eye. You’re positive that you look a mess, mascara running down your cheeks and your dark lipstick smeared all around your mouth, mixing with your spit. Your hands are still behind your back, the arch in your body making you push your chest out and putting your tits on full display for him. He starts toying with your nipples again and you want to cry. An orgasm feels so close, yet so far away. You feel like you could come with just a few strokes on your clit, but you have no idea how much longer he will string you along until he finally deems it enough.

“You’ve been such a good girl, sweetheart. So patient all day, I bet you’re dripping all down those pretty legs right now, aren’t you? So desperate and ready for me, yeah?” His voice is a low growl in front of you and you whine your agreement. It’s not enough for him. “Say it. Tell me how desperate my little slut is to finally get fucked.”

You hesitate, your eyes dropping to the ground in front of you. “I-,” you gasp as he roughly grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, waiting for you to do as he said. “I need you to fuck me, so badly. I’ll be so good, I promise, just p-please, sir,” you whine, feeling pathetic, your voice trembling and your face burning. No matter how many depraved things he gets you to do with him, for him, talking like this still gets you embarrassed. Which is precisely why he makes you do it.

“And what are you?”

You feel your face heating up. “Your s-slut, sir.”

He grins as he adds another slap against your cheek. “Damn right you are.”

He straightens back up, tugs himself back into his pants and looks down at you. “Bedroom.” You scramble to get up, but he shakes his head and lands a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down again. “No, no. You’re gonna crawl.” You sink back on your hands and knees, the amount of embarrassment and arousal that you’re feeling making you dizzy, and you look up at him shyly.

He nods approvingly and bends down to tug your dress up higher until your bare ass and pussy are on full display. “Good girl, right where you belong. Off you go, come on.” You bite your lip and start crawling towards the bedroom, his footsteps right behind you and you can feel his eyes drinking you in as another groan grumbles in his chest.

You stop in front of the bed and give him a questioning look. He gestures for you to stand up and you get back to your feet with trembling knees. He steps closer, his hands ghosting over your shoulders and toying with the straps of your dress.

“Such a pretty dress,” he murmurs as he slides them off your shoulders, the garment slipping down your body, leaving you bare except for the heels that you’ve been wearing all evening. You’re painfully aware of the power dynamic between you, how you’re completely naked and at his mercy while he’s still fully dressed. His hands roam over you, leaving goosebumps in their wake and come to rest at your hips. He squeezes the flesh there, then turns you around until you’re facing the bed.

One hand reaches up to your neck and he bends you over until your upper body is resting on the mattress, your back arching and your ass up in the air for him. He takes a step back and lands a slap on your backside without warning. You yelp, your body instinctively lurching forward and your legs shaking with the strain of keeping your balance in your heels. He notices, of course, and says, “You better keep those pretty legs steady, doll,” before reaching forward and massaging your stinging flesh. You hum, trying to get your muscles to cooperate, but your legs won’t stop trembling.

Dave’s touch leaves your body and he sits down on the bed beside your head, his eyes searching your face. “What’s your color, sweetheart?” he inquires, softly stroking your cheek.

“Green,” you answer without hesitation. It has already been a lot and you’re sure that he’s nowhere near finished with you, but you like it like this. You crave it. He nods, his touch still gentle on your face.

“And what do you say when you need me to stop?”

“Red,” you whisper, leaning into his touch.

“Good girl,” he murmurs and leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek, before he stands up again and disappears from your field of view.

“So,” his voice drawls from behind you, “I think I’ll give you twenty-five tonight, how’s that sound, sweetheart?” You gulp, but know that there’s only one acceptable answer.

“S-sounds good, sir. Thank you,” you breathe, the apprehension clear in your voice, and he laughs quietly.

“And what did you do to deserve this?”

You bite your lip again, struggling to think through the fog of arousal clearly enough to give him an answer that he’ll be satisfied with. “I d-didn’t listen and talked- talked back at you, and…” you trail off when his hand dips between your legs, swirling through the wetness there before retreating again. You inhale sharply and continue, “…and that was disrespectful. I’m sorry, sir, it won’t- it won’t happen again.”

“We’ll see about that,” Dave mumbles and his fingertips ghost over your lower back. “But that was a nice little speech, sweetheart. Starting now, you’re gonna count them out for me, yeah? Lose count and we’ll start over.” You nod and your hands grip the sheets as you try bracing yourself.

The first slap meets your flesh, not as hard as you know he can go, but hard enough to get a small scream out of you. “One,” you force yourself to say and he hums appreciatively, before landing the second slap exactly on the same spot as the first one. “T-two,” you whine, his handprint searing on your skin.

You make it until eleven before your legs give out, your trembling muscles collapsing under the task of keeping you upright in your heels while your body is scrambling to get away from the oncoming assault on your ass cheeks. You fall forward, your knees hitting the mattress right after Dave’s hand connected with your backside again. “Twelve, I’m sorry, sir,” you choke out.

“It’s okay,” he assures you, stepping closer and running his hands soothingly over your back as he searches your face, a look of soft concern on his face. “What’s your color, doll?”

“Green. Still- still green, sir,” you breathe out and you mean it. You feel like you’re on fire, but in the best way.

“Yeah?” he questions, “want me to continue?” and you nod your head eagerly. The concern washes away from his face, his jaw tensing and his eyes growing cold again. “Fucking masochistic little slut,” he growls and you moan, your walls desperately clenching around nothing.

He lets you stay with your knees on the bed, your ass still up high for him, until you’ve finally reached “twenty-five, t-thank you, sir.” You’re sobbing at this point, your skin feels raw where he hit you, but you’re also damn near delirious with want for him.

Dave strokes your skin gently, telling you what a good girl you’ve been and how proud he is of you, and you bask in his praise. Then his hand travels lower, slipping between your thighs until his fingers are running through your folds, feeling how soaked exactly his rough treatment has left you. “Fuck doll, you’re dripping. You really liked that, huh?” he murmurs as he pushes two of his thick fingers into you, sliding in easily and making you moan loudly.

He thrusts into your tight heat roughly, causing you to arch your back and spread your legs wider, your release so close that you can almost taste it. He keeps going until he feels you growing tighter, starting to clench around his fingers, and slides them out of you abruptly. You sob, feeling your orgasm subside again.

“I think you were about to come without permission, sweetheart. You just promised me you’d be good, didn’t you? Guess your greedy little cunt just can’t help herself, huh?”

You whimper an apology and receive another slap to your abused skin, causing you to jerk forward. “No doll, you stay right here. Give me your hands,” Dave’s stern voice orders from behind you. You let him take hold of your wrists, leaving you completely at his mercy in the position that you’re in, and he digs your panties out of his pants pocket, looping them around your wrists until they’re tightly secured.

When he’s satisfied with his work, you finally hear the rustling of him taking off his clothes. Without warning, you feel him swipe the head of his cock through your drenched folds, teasing you with the tip, grazing your clit and causing you to gasp, then sliding back until he’s prodding at your entrance. You whine loudly and try pushing your hips backwards, but his hold tightens around you, keeping you in position.

“Not so fast. Be a good girl and beg for it,” he requests, in a voice that still sounds so controlled, while you feel like you’re barely able to form words anymore. You’re not embarrassed anymore, the promise of his cock so close to where you want him wiping all inhibitions from your mind.

“Please sir, I need you so badly, please fuck me, I’ll do anything, just please…”

You feel pathetic begging like this, but you couldn’t care less. Dave lets out a strained groan behind you, and then he’s pushing into you in one strong thrust. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve taken him or how wet you are, his size always stings at the first intrusion and you wail, your body being pushed forward by his movement and he grips your bound wrists, holding you steady as he starts pounding into you.

“So fucking tight and wet you little slut, fuck you take me so good, being such a good girl, fuck…” Now his voice sounds wrecked behind you and you moan loudly at his words and at the way he’s splitting you open. This is what you had been craving for hours, the feeling of him thrusting into you again and again, and you push your hips back to meet his thrusts, to get him even deeper.

One of his hands grips your hair and pulls, forcing you to arch your back even more and slightly shifting the angle where he’s pounding into you, hitting something so delicious inside of you that you almost come on the spot, your walls already fluttering around him, but you’re not allowed, your scrambled brain reminds you, you need…

“Please sir, I’m gonna come, can I please…” Your voice breaks off into a sob when his movements slow down and he pulls out of you, pushing you forward until you’re laying flat on the bed, and he starts working on releasing your bound wrists.

“Good girl, asking for permission,” he praises, “but you’re gonna look me in the face when I make you come tonight.”

He frees your wrists and turns you around so that you’re on your back, looking up at him through teary eyes, desperate for your release. “Poor thing,” he coos as he gets between your legs, placing his large hands on your thighs and spreading them wide. His cock nudges at your entrance but he doesn’t sink back into you, his gaze trained on your face and his hand wandering up to play with your bottom lip.

“Open wide,” he tells you and you obey, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out. His breath has turned heavy by now and he hovers over you, hungry eyes roaming over your face, your open mouth and your wet eyes. He draws back the tiniest bit, then he spits into your mouth, his saliva coating your tongue and you whine, the filth of the whole situation making your pussy clench once more.

“Keep it open, show me.”

You hold still, your mouth wide open, feeling his spit mixing with yours as you stare up at him, waiting for his next command. “Now swallow,” he finally says and you do, showing him your empty mouth afterwards and he grins. “Fuck, you’re such an obedient slut, being such a good girl for me. You’d do anything right now, wouldn’t you? Fucked all the thoughts out of that pretty little head, yeah?”

“Yes, anything,” you whimper, and he sinks his cock back into you without preamble. Your eyes widen at the sensation of being full again and the new angle, moans of his name falling from your mouth and you wrap your legs around him, grasping at his wide shoulders to hold onto something as he starts pounding into you again with raw strength.

One of his hands wraps around your throat, squeezing until you feel light-headed, intensifying the feeling of his deep thrusts into you. Pleading whispers leave your lips, but you don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore, if you want more, if you want him to stop.

His movements speed up even more, hitting spots inside of you that have you moaning and squirming underneath him and the hand on your throat travels down to your breasts, toying with your nipples, pinching and pulling and sending delicious waves of pain through you.

You’re so close again, when his hand slides down to rub at your clit, making you scream and throw your head back, your eyes pinched close. He grabs at your face and forces you to look at him.

“Oh no, you’re gonna look me in the eyes when I make you come, are you gonna come sweetheart?”, he growls. You whine and nod desperately, your eyes shining with tears. “Go ahead then, come for me, squeeze my cock like the good little whore you are.”

He swirls his thumb over your neglected clit once more, gives you a particularly hard thrust and your vision swims, your whole body tensing up before you bear down on him and fall apart. You’re clenching rhythmically around his cock as the orgasm tears through your body in pulsing waves and you’re pulling him over the edge with you as he climaxes with a deep moan, spilling his release inside of you.

You’re a trembling mess, your breath stuttering and your mind still caught up in a blissful haze, and you’re only vaguely aware of him collapsing beside you, but you register the tender kiss that he presses to your cheek before he gets up and retreats to the bathroom.

The next thing you feel is the bed dipping as he sits down beside you again and you slowly blink your eyes open. Maybe it’s the post-orgasmic bliss that you’re still lost in, but you think to yourself that he looks especially beautiful right now, his face relaxed with a small smile playing around his mouth, where the stubble of his beard is showing through at the end of the day, and with his brown eyes warm again now as he looks at you.

“May I?” he asks and holds up a damp towel. You nod, returning his smile and watching as he brings the towel down between your legs, cleaning you up and soothing your hot skin. He gently turns you over and spreads some kind of healing balm over your burning cheeks, careful not to touch you too roughly. He also cleans your face, his soft touches almost enough to lull you to sleep.

When he’s finished, he maneuvers you around, causing you to giggle, until you’re in the middle of the bed and he can pull the covers over you, sliding in beside you and wrapping his arm around your middle. You shuffle closer until you’re securely tugged into his side, your breath fanning against his broad chest.

“You good?” he asks, looking down at you and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah,” you smile up at him and stretch to reach his mouth with your lips. He kisses you back, his hand coming up to play with your hair, and you smile even wider. As much as he likes to be rough with you, you think that what he actually needs, is the softness.

series masterlist

if you enjoyed reading this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! <3

[denial-permanente]

I love your page and that the two of you share so much of your lifestyle on here. I’m not sure if this is a statement or a question. I’ve read your answers about realistic feeling of this strap on you have and the technique of warming it up first. I just can’t wrap my head around your preference for it compared to the real thing. There has to be some give and take here like, it doesn’t feel as good but Tom’s technique with it is better than the real thing? Something along those lines. Stamina maybe? Either way thank you both for sharing so freely and so often!

😅 Oh boy, this is a hard one for some people... both women and men... to understand.

A lot of, women say that they don't like the feel of dildos, that they are unnatural, or they feel off, or they're too cold, or they just don't like the idea. I was kind of like that myself, and honestly I never even thought about using them with my husband. He was... very satisfying in bed and I honestly didn't feel the need to bring anything else in.

So, when my husband discovered the Vixskin company, he researched them carefully and bought a model that had a size and shape that was very close to his own. There was something about the feel of it that felt more normal to me. It wasn't quite him, but it felt okay and it was attached to him... so it was him close to me, his smell, his muscles, his arms holding me. I decided that I could live with it.

But here is the important part. After a while his wearing it began to feel totally normal. Just like having him locked all the time felt totally normal. I loved him being horny and affectionate all the time, I loved having all the control over our love life, and I loved how passionate he was making love to me while wearing the Tex.

When I missed feeling him come inside me I would unlock him... but those times became less and less often. We often went for months at a time without me wanting to unlock him... which meant that his wearing the Tex felt more and more natural to me.

Eventually he figured out the trick of warming it up before we made love, and that made things go from feeling natural to feeling... better. Like, I don't know why he didn't think of it sooner, it's so simple. But because I could feel the heat inside me it made our lovemaking more intense.

And now here the part that you men always ask about: unless your wife is a porn star, do not assume that she really wants a foot long monster inside her.

After 4 years of using only the Tex my husband asked if I wanted to try something bigger. While I honestly did not feel the need to I went along out of curiosity. We ended up with the Ranger X for several reasons. One is that it was supposed to have been made with a different process that made it more lifelike. Another is that when looking at the dimensions it was only a little bit bigger... maybe an inch longer and a half inch thicker. But when we first opened the package that little bit bigger on the website looked huge!

I have written before about what it was like getting used to it. But to the point of the question, I found that it made my husband feel the same to me but different... and in a good way.

Remember... when we make love I am feeling my husband holding me close, whispering in my ear, his weight on top of me, his hot cage pressing into my ass. All of those things are him... how he feels and smells and sounds. And because he is totally focused on me, he moves the way I want him to move to give me pleasure depending on my mood.

I guess what you were looking for was for me to say "I love the Ranger, but I miss my husband because..." except that there really isn't anything because I don't think of it that way. I do not think of him as wearing a strapon... I just think of it as doing what was very natural for us... just with something that feels even better than the Tex.

[bunnyreaper]

Demon Gaz, who's looking for a pretty little plaything to corrupt. Maybe a priests daughter, or someone who (somehow) has never sinned before.

<3

hopefully you enjoy this crime against christianity <3 cw dubcon, religion.

looking like such an angel, kyle finds his job incredibly easy. his beautiful brown eyes look like they're incapable of hiding a single sinful thought, never mind an entirely devilish being.

his smile is so bright the local god-fearing women think it could ward off any ill fate that could befall the town--if only they knew the reason for their downfall was their darling local charmer. 

you and kyle had been friends for a while now, he was new in town and took a shine to you immediately when you sat next to him in church one day.

from that moment on, he knew that he would make you his. 

it was easy to get you alone, under the guise of bible study, of reinforcing your father's teachings. the sessions started with quiet, companionable reading. kyle would keep you company, answer simple questions you had, and ask you about your life. 

no boys, no parties, no sin. 

he couldn't ask for a prettier, more innocent little thing to corrupt. 

your descent started slowly, in a way he couldn't have even planned. he didn't have to seek you out, as you followed him around like a lost lamb, unknowingly leading itself to slaughter. you tried to spend as much time with him as possible, obsessed with the way he looked at you like no one had before. 

you could sense his desire, even if you thought it to be something simple and innocent--the kind of love and admiration your parents' marriage was built from, the kind of devotion you had for your god. 

you had no idea of the lust that lay within--the corrupting, all-consuming need. kyle garrick was a selfish man, used to turning girls like you on their heads and feeding off their sins before moving on to the next. 

something about you was different. 

perhaps it was because he'd never met one so pure and untainted, or maybe it was because, unlike the others, you had no sense of self-preservation. it could be that you always had this look in your eyes like you wouldn't really mind if kyle led you astray, you'd follow him anyway. that was something he quickly became addicted to.

the poking and questioning followed soon after, kyle subtly guiding you to question the gospel, your father, and everything you've ever known, all for him. he pretended to struggle with his faith too, though he supposed it wasn't a lie, as once upon a time he had. 

you were quick to follow, enamored by your guardian angel in every way, believing he could never steer you wrong. 

after all, questioning is normal, natural, why we were given free will--that's what kyle always says. and with the sweet way he says it, so earnest and everything... there's no way the two of you are doing anything wrong.

so when he pulls you into his lap one day, bible in hand, you don't question it. when he asks your interpretation on a particular verse, and leads you to a certain conclusion, you don't question it. 

when he takes you on a walk through the churchyard flowers and kisses you under the flower-filled pergola, lips against yours like he's devouring you, you don't question it. 

from there, the rest is easy. coaxing you into sneaking out late at night, straight into his arms, getting you to give up your vow of chastity, your commitments to the church, your devotion to god.

instead, you worship him. his name falling from your lips like a prayer as he drives inside you, taking you for him forever. spoiling you for other men, breaking all your oaths. 

he stretches you out, shapes you to him, claims you with his cock, his cum, his fingers, the way his nails scraping down your body carves his name into your soul.

you cry out for him when your pretty mouth is on the end of his cock, you cry out for him when he's gone--tears beading in your eyes either way. 

and when they try to take you away from kyle, to make you 'see the light', 

all the lessons you've been taught about vengeance and grace fall away, and you search for a new beginning--disavowing your church, your family, your upbringing. 

and with your fall complete, when it's time for kyle to skip town? there's no way in hell he could leave you behind.

[ughscara]

heart rhythm.

: once upon a winter, lost notes are reunited.

— ꒰⁠ kunikuzushi ꒱. bittersweet fluff.

content warning. modern au, both kuni and reader are musicians, established distant relationship. apart from that, there is none.

additional notes. i am nineteen today :) thought it'd be fun to write something more personal to me just as a nice little birthday celebration so as a change of pace just like i did last year, i am treating myself in a nice and simple way 🤍

it was but another ordinary day for you — picking up your violin and rearranging a favorite song of yours, treating yourself to dessert, having the regular two cups of tea, having a good read or two at the local library in town, writing down ideas and lastly ending the day by catching up with your lover who's living abroad.

honestly, your usual day-to-day activities have been stale without his presence, that you admitted to him at one point which he, rather characteristically, found amusement in. but the amusement that laced his tone was only a cover-up for the immense joy he felt.

“just about the usual as always?” kunikuzushi inquired at the other end of the line, watching you tune your guitar with an attentive gaze. “i'd say so, yes.” you hum in agreement, still occupied with tuning your acoustic guitar that you haven't touched in a long while.

a smile tugged at your lips as you finished tuning your guitar. with a small sigh, your gaze met his that's behind the screen and you are greeted with him tuning his own guitar. out of habit, you chuckle quietly at the sight. “you didn't tune your guitar beforehand?” “the blame is on you for suddenly deciding to have another music night.”

fair enough, but it was interesting to see him tune his guitar — it's always tuned, and that prompted you to ask: “say, did ajax mess around with your guitar again?” even on the other end of the line, the familiar playfulness present in your voice never fails to make him smile. he hummed quietly, “i don't believe it should be that surprising anymore.”

you presumed correctly. you set your guitar beside your chair, resting its board on the armrest of said chair as you took your cup of tea, taking a sip from it whilst watching him tune his electric guitar and setting up the amplifier in silence. once done, he leaned his back against his chair whilst stretching his arms out, sighing in relief to himself while you smiled.

this was quite a common activity, especially so since it'll almost be a year since he traveled abroad. and the more you dwelled on the reality of it, the more you felt the need to ask. and so, sitting your cup down on the table and with the best smile you could muster,

“...when will you come back, kuni?”

similar to how late night calls and music nights were a common occurrence, that was a common question. you miss him, you really do, so much to a point it hurts having to wake another day without being able to see him or squeeze him gently in your embrace as you slept. it'll be a year since you haven't been able to bask in his warmth, to spend another mundane day with him by your side, to not have been able to see that face of his whenever you decide to assault his face with soft kisses.

his silence made your smile falter slightly. seems that he doesn't have an answer either.

you internally ponder about whether you should've asked that question or not, this silence you earn as a response has become so familiar that it's not as surprising anymore. to relieve it, you hum quietly in acknowledgement, and just as you were about to murmur a quiet apology...

“sometime next month.”

your expression wasted no time in brightening upon hearing his answer. is he serious? “really?” you inquire, your loose grip on your tea cup's handle tightened slightly.

he couldn't help but chuckle softly at your reaction, it's just about what he expected and truthfully? he was delighted to see it. “really.” he parroted in affirmation, resting the side of his head on his hand, small smile widening at the sight of yours brightening in pure unbridled joy.

“now that i gave you a definitive answer, how about we get the night over with?” he playfully inquired, his unoccupied hand bringing his electric guitar to rest on his lap. you eagerly nodded and took your acoustic guitar, setting yourself up more comfortably as you got ready to sing the night away once more this week.

“ready?”

“whenever you are.”

“...i'll take that as a yes.”

you could've sworn you saw an irk mark appear at the top of his forehead at your reply, in spite of his room's dim lighting. but you digress. with a deep breath and acknowledging that you are going first, he began playing the instrumental of the song you chose to sing. a smile tugged at your lips as at the sight of his reaction, the instrumental of your song was quiet... calm, to say the least. but that didn't come as too much of a surprise, the song you chose was a cheesy love song.

your voice remained clear as day to him as you sang, taking him back to the early stages of your relationship in which he would always hear you sing or hum a tune. or even better in his eyes — the tranquil nights in which he's held close; head resting on your chest as he listened to the soothing melody of your heart. your fingers brushing through his midnight locks adding more to that tranquility.

his gaze would on occasion shift from his guitar to you on his monitor screen, smiling to himself as you, which he's sure as hell you chose this song on purpose, are singing this song for him. how he longs to hear that voice of yours once he returns to inazuma... the mere thought of being able to see you for the first time in a year makes him get a tad bit too antsy.

you on the other hand, while missing him dearly and now are getting antsy for his return, were more focused on a specific time in which he had you comfortable on his lap, your newly bought acoustic guitar held in your hands as he, rather gently, guided you on how to play the instrument. you still remember the time you mastered his signature riff, your heart over the moon as he leaned in to plant a soft kiss to your cheek that playfully trailed down to your shoulder, whispering a quiet and love-filled “well done, doll.” right next to your ear.

as your gaze never left his as you two sang the night away, relishing in the familiarity of the moment that took both your minds back to before his journey commenced.

tonight was another to remember.

———

it's been a month since then. late night calls have unfortunately become less frequent since he's gotten busy as of late, opting to catch up via messages instead.

it's been incredibly endearing receiving updates of his whereabouts, from how the band's commission is coming along to daily mundanities; they never failed to bring a smile to your face. however one day, he stopped messaging you entirely. safe to say it left you worried, and you sent as little messages as you can to ensure that you aren't bothering him too much.

last message on the first of december, a minute before you headed to spend some quality time like usual at the library.

you were walking in town now, waving and smiling softly in greeting to a few familiar faces as you made your way to the library. but the walk doesn't feel tranquil at all, not when your mind is taken over by a storm of worried thoughts. even now, you're still checking your phone constantly for at least one message in response. but much to your dismay, there was none.

you attended your violin class with kokomi, a close friend of yours, and she picked up on your uncharacteristics that lingered throughout your entire hangout with her today. not seeing why you should hide it, you spill.

“it was a little too abrupt,” you mumble while taking a sip of your coffee, “i sent multiple messages but he has yet to reply.” kokomi can pinpoint the worry laced in your words, and she only smiles. it's always been endearing to her seeing more of you shine, and only your lover is the only one able to make your serenity falter.

“you worry too much, (name). we've known him long enough to know that this is a habit of his.” she said in a soft tone with a chuckle, taking a sip of her own coffee. her calm tone managed to reassure you through the remainder of the day, but even then, that tinge of worry was still present.

now, it is but a day before your birthday, and you still haven't received any updates. let alone hear anything from him. you slept worried and antsy that night, your fingers fiddling with your blanket as you constantly checked your phone non-stop. but eventually, succumbed to sleep, hoping that nothing happened to him.

the worrisome night flew by. and by the time you woke up to your alarm and was about to turn it off, you were greeted with a pleasant surprise.

you immediately get out of the bed and don't even bother to fix your sleep-tousled hair, getting out of your bedroom and rushing to the door out of sheer excitement.

you were going to see him again.

you don't hesitate in opening the door, and the moment you do, the relief that washed over your body was indescribable as you saw kunikuzushi right before your eyes, you didn't even get to say anything before he pulled you close and interlocked your lips together in a deep and slightly messy kiss, a soft sigh escaping him at the familiar feeling. his hand tangled in your slightly messy hair, your arms wrapped around his neck in an instant as you reciprocated the kiss.

you eventually pull away with a soft breath out, your gaze meeting his as he quietly murmured, “i'm back.” you couldn't help but chuckle at his words, unable to contain your happiness — you leaned in to leave a soft peck to his lips as your hands trailed to his cheeks. smiling in pure, unbridled joy. “welcome back.”

his hand that resided in your hair now cupped your cheek, gently brushing his thumb across your cheekbone with a soft smile playing on his lips. his heart leaped as you did the familiar action of leaning into his touch with a quiet hum. how he missed you.

no words were exchanged as he led you back inside the comfort of your shared home, closing the door behind him while you stretched your body out with a yawn.

“excited to a point you left the house in your pjs. so much for wanting to catch a cold.” he remarked with a chuckle, making his way further in the familiar space and sitting down on the couch, not bothering to take his coat off.

“well, i can't be blamed now, can i? especially with how you suddenly ghosted me for two whole days, shithead.”

“touche.”

you only sighed deeply in relief afterwards, not only is he okay but he's back. all of your happiness emerged from the latter as you fixed up your hair a bit and made yourself comfortable next to him, not wasting time in snuggling up to him. although you couldn't see it, he smiled. his hand tangled in your hair once more, his fingers gently combing through your locks.

there was nothing but a comfortable silence as he held you close, but that didn't remain for long.

“(name),”

“yes?” you said whilst looking up at him, your body stilled as you felt his lips pressed against yours.

“happy birthday.”

[cornyonmains]

I think there's an interesting contrast in Dead Friend Forever and 4 Minutes, seeing as they're Sammon's two latest projects. DFF and 4 Minutes are both shows about rich/privileged people doing awful shit to people in socioeconomically disadvantaged positions. As they're won't to do. Sammon, I feel, has fava beans and a nice chianti on deck should society ever decide to eat the rich.

I think the contrast between Por and Great is important to examine when we're looking at the kind of characters Sammon has created a narrative justification for revenge against. Between the two characters, Por is the one who has been most ruined by money. Great may have never had to dig up couch change to pay for a dollar menu cheeseburger, but him having no idea what coins were was about half-charming. Benign at the very least.

Por, on the other hand, was a miserable little bastard who used money to manipulate, control, or torture everyone around him. You still see him engaging in that behavior by the start of the series, long after the events with Non. He's still using his money to buy a loyal crew of orbiters who won't dare oppose him when there's privilege down one path and ruination down the other.

I don't think 4 Minutes is going to have a fluffy ending, but I don't necessarily think things are going to end with either one of them dying. That scene of them in the canoe together in the trailers was giving womb/rebirth. If we're operating from the assumption Great is going back in time to fix things and get closer to Tyme, future Great is probably not onboard with what his family is doing, and helping Tyme take them down could be a goal of his in that hospital bed.

I don't think this show is going to be as simple as who lives or dies being the big question answered at the end. I think the question to be asked by thee end of the series will be if the price of subverting fate is worth it. Great and Tyme could very well walk away from the end of this series having burnt their entire worlds down to subvert fate. It's why I think the sex scene coming in episode 4 is going to be really important. Tyme's going to be the first emotional connection that Great has felt with anyone in years. The idea fate itself is using that emotional vulnerability to tie him to Tyme, to make him an instrument in tearing down his own family is much meatier than him simply being on a quest to save Tyme.

It'd be a much more interesting ending if they both survive as a morally ambiguous pair willing to do the worst for each other.