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#glad to finally get something written down
4sh-n4 · 4 months
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AU where bruce and co. (his entire hoarde of kids, even jason in disguise) are at a gala. And it's a really big gala, party of the year type of thing in Gotham, absolutely unmissable. And usually, even the rogues know that this night is off limits, so it's relatively safe. So, they're all at this gala, right?
And then the joker crashes it because he has no respect for Gotham traditions. Breaks in through a window, yada yada. He starts to go on this whole villain speech as per usual, and everyone is waiting for the heroes to come. But all the heroes are at the gala, in their civilian identities, with a thousand eyes on them. No one can reasonably slip away, except for maybe jason, who's already seething mad and ready to attack. But with the chaos and people trying to get away, all the exits are blocked, and his helmet is at home.
Bruce is at the front of the crowd, facing the Joker. Joker sees him and makes a comment about Jason, and goes on about how Bruce must've felt when his baby died. And then he brings up how he killed the little birdie too, just a few days before the terrorist attacks that allegedly killed Jason. And he mentions how much he tortured Robin before his death, and Bruce snaps.
He leaps forward, absolutely hammering the shit out of the joker. Beats him up so bad, no finesse or technique to it, just pure rage. His kids try to pull him off, to no avail. No one else even tries. By the end of it, by the time the police arrive, the joker is more blood than body, and Bruce has finally calmed down. Everyone is just staring at him in shock, understandably. (The joker ends up in hospital, paralysed and in a coma)
His kids all drag Bruce home and give him an entire lecture about his persona and how his cover has probably been blown. About excessive violence and how he refused to kill joker but then pulled this in public?? They're all worried about the fallout in the news the next day.
No one sleeps that night, for various reasons, but then when the newspaper comes out the next morning... there's just nothing bad written?? The headline is something about Bruce being a hero for saving everyone from the joker, but there's no other mention about Batman or anything else.
Turns out, no one in Gotham is surprised that Brucie Wayne, no 1 airhead, beat up the joker because "did you SEE him as a teenager?? We were all just glad when he came from his travels pretending to be stupid instead of picking fights with everyone. If anything, it's understandable that he snapped, I would too if a clown started bragging about killing my son." The only reason no one brought up his violent past is because they were worried he would revert back to that behaviour.
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lyrefromthesea · 3 months
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Male pillars x reader - bringing them their favourite food.
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author's note: due to a comment I've received on an earlier post, i'll not write for Muichiro anymore. i've stated before that i do not write sexual content for minors, nor do i engage in writing romantic relationships including them. everything i've written for him was seen as a platonic relationship between him and the reader. since my statement fell in deaf ears, i've decided to leave him out completely. i do not feel comfortable mentioning him in my posts anymore, my deepest apologies.
request: how would the pillars react to receiving their favourite food from you?
pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader
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Tengen:
you were standing in the kitchen, whistling to yourself. today had been good so you decided to make your husband a little treat.
the market had been rather full, but you walked through the crowd and bought the ingredients you needed for his favourite dish.
seaweed. rice. and already prepared fugu. it had taken quite some time to find it, but you did it nonetheless.
standing in the kitchen, you had already made a plate of fugu sushi. at least that's what you thought. when you turned around to place another piece on the plate, it looked like there was one missing. have you forgotten one?
placing your finished piece on the plate, you turned around to make more. finally, you would be finished-
and another one was gone.
"Tengen! stop stealing the fugu sushi!" you scolded, not surprised when you heard quiet footsteps behind you. he wasn't a shinobi for nothing.
"sorry, darling. you looked so flamboyant, i didn't want to interrupt you!" he answered, wrapping muscular arms around you. a laugh escaped you, feeling him place his chin on the top of your hair.
"have i ever told you that you're the best?" he teased, finally freeing you from his embrace.
"i already know, that's why we're married."
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Obanai:
you placed a bowl of tororo konbu right in front of him, telling him that you tried your best. naturally, he thanked you, but he didn't dive in like you would've expected him to do.
"what's wrong?" you asked, wondering if you had messed up the dish. it was your first time making it, perhaps you had missed a step or overcooked something.
"i.. could you maybe..?" Obanai asked, he appeared much more timid than usual. you tried understanding what was wrong.
seeing his finger brush against his mask, you understood, he still felt insecure about his face. you hadn't been in a relationship for long, he probably needed time to get used to this. "of course."
"just know that i would never judge you for what i see." you added, placing a kiss on his temple. truthfully, you were saddened about his request, but you wanted to give him the time he needed.
Obanai, on the other hand, was touched by your words. his meal long forgotten, he stood up, taking your hands in his.
"we should marry."
you looked at him, first shocked, and then you started laughing. perhaps he overreacted just a bit, but who could blame him?
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Rengoku:
sweet potatoes. so many sweet potatoes.
when you've told Rengoku you could cook his favourite dish in the near future, he had been incredibely happy about it.
he came back with a load of sweet potatoes the next day, his whole head nearly dissapearing behind the amounts of the root vegetable he had bought.
now, another day later, you put miso soup and sweet potatoes for two on the table, smiling at your enthusiastic husband. he had offered to help you the whole time, which eventually led you to ban him from the kitchen.
he nearly devoured the dish as soon as you were sat on the opposite side of the table. it made you chuckle, seeing him swallow the huge bite he took down.
"umai!"
"you've outdone yourself, i'm glad i brought some sweet potatoes home!" he brightly smiled, earning another laugh from you. some sweet potatoes?
"Kyojuro, you brought a ton of them home." you countered, pointing at the rest of the potatoes you've put on the counter for now. "that will probably be enough for a month worth of miso soup with sweet potatoes!"
"sounds good, don't you think?"
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Sanemi:
Sanemi plopped down on the engawa, letting out a heavy sigh. training had been rather hard, but he needed to stay fit. nevertheless, his muscles ached and he could really take a break.
he debated over going inside, he trained enough. a shower wouldn't hurt, he was sweating, dampened hair was sticking to his forehead. the man sighed, standing up to finally move inside.
however, when he saw you standing right behind him, he froze. you were looking up at him with wide eyes, as if you tried surpising him. he looked down at your hands - you were holding something - only now realizing that he had been right. you did try to surpise him.
he looked at the plate in your hands, it was filled with ohagi. his favourite food. his eyes moved back to your face, watching you tilt your head.
"it's for you." you told him, tilting your head to the side. "let's go inside, you've trained enough." you smiled, nodding towards the door. he nodded, following you into the kitchen. you placed the ohagi down on the counter, watching him slowly take one.
"you didn't have to." he said, already having bitten into the one in his hand. you chuckled at his words, he had nearly eaten the ohagi with one bite, yet he claimed he didn't need any.
"i needed a reason to get you away from training." you admitted, a sly smile on your face. but both of you knew he would've listened to you no matter what.
"i would've stopped anyways." he answered, placing the ohagi he had picked up to the side. he came closer, watching your eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"what? why?" you asked, not questioning why he came closer. in a matter of seconds, you were in his arms, your eyes squeezing shut in disbelief.
"i wanted to shower." he smirked, basically squishing his sweaty body against yours. you let out a whine, trying to free yourself from his hug, but only managing to do so when he let go.
"great, now i can shower too!" you scolded, seeing him laugh to himself. he walked towards the bathroom, seemingly wanting to wash himself.
"let's eat the ohagi after you're finished."
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Giyuu:
Giyuu didn't know what he had expected when he came home today, but he certainly didn't think it would be the smell of freshly cooked food.
no, scrap that. he was often greeted by the nice smell of a promising meal. this was different. it wasn't just any meal.
"welcome home, Giyuu." you greeted, watching him step into the kitchen. you looked content, already knowing that you would make him happy.
"are you hungry? i prepared something for you." you smiled, seeing him nod slowly. when you moved away from the table, his gaze wandered towards the bowls full of food.
your gaze was fixed on him, wanting to catch his reaction. he wasn't the type to voice his happiness, but you certainly caught the way he looked at the salmon daikon you made.
the lightest twitch of his eyebrows and the way his eyes narrowed showed his interest. he stared at the food for a moment, the quiet grumble of his stomach revealing how hungry he truly was.
but he didn't immediately start eating. instead he looked back at you, his gaze softening.
"i've got you this" he muttered, extending his hand towards you. you stared in awe, a small bag of your favourite sweets being placed in your hands.
"let's eat them for dessert, Giyuu."
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Gyomei:
when you brought home the ingredients for takikomi gohan. you have wanted to surprise Gyomei with his favourite dish.
you stood in the kitchen, cutting the vegetables into small pieces, as you hummed to yourself. Gyomei should've been home in an hour, at least that's what you've thought.
"i'm home." you heard his deep voice call from the hallway. your head snapped up, looking at the ingredients and then towards the door. you wouldn't have enough time to put everything away. before you even had the chance to react, he already came through the door.
"..are those?" he stopped in the doorway, his head turning towards you. you knew he was blind, but his ability to detect your exact location surpised you ever so often.
the smell of his favourite food hung in the air, almost as if the world had wanted to ruin your surprise.
"i wanted to surprise you." you admitted, lowering your head. you knew he wouldn't be disappointed, but you've planned this since last week. he must've sensed your sadness, walking towards you and putting his hand over yours.
"i can help you, let's cook together." he offered, carefully taking the knife out of your hand. truthfully, you nearly objected, not wanting him to hurt himself, however, you nearly chuckled thinking of the large weapon he was wielding.
"let's call it a cooking date then." you smiled, opening the drawer to get a second knife.
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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months
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🧡❤️Dating Your Enemy's Sibling
*part of the reverse trope series*
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!Reader Genre: Fluff/Humor/SMAU Summary: How to get under your enemy/rival's skin? Charles answer was to start dating his younger sister. But now, he's glad he found love along the way. He only had to tell Max about the relationship when you won a race. That's won't be any time soon though . . . right?
*in honor of Lando's first win - here's this next installment of Reverse Tropes! I know that Max and Charles really aren't enemies. Maybe I should have done like a Pierre and Esteban thing, but I don't write for them. So here we go and please enjoy!*
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. 
Predestined rivals, written in the stars, invisible string, yada-yada-yada. 
Putting it simply, Charles had an apt for pissing Max off and vice-versa. The world thought they would kill each other in karting, especially after the 2012 incident. The population sighed in relief when Max was taken from F3 and put in a Formula 1 car, while Charles took a bit longer. 
And then Charles made it to Formula 1 in 2018. However, he was put in a HAAS, a car that was not really made to play with the other cars in the front of the pack. The earth was saved yet another year. 
Well, until 2019 when Charles suddenly became the “It Boy” for the Prancing Horse. Meaning, that he could finally go back to terrorizing the grid and Max. But with terrorizing the grid came loads of trouble and hatred. 
And more pissing off your rival. 
Charles seethed on the podium as he listened to the Dutch national anthem and watched Max point to the stupid “H” on his race suit. He held in a scoff. At least the Ferrari logo was much better looking than that. 
It wasn’t fair. He had the racing line and Max pushed him off. If his mind wandered, it would go back to a certain kart race back in 2012 where he pulled the same move. But that didn’t count because the race has already finished. Charles would have rather been disqualified instead of having to go through the torture of being up on the podium in second. 
First loser as they call it. 
The Monegasque driver held no happiness in his body as Max started spraying his winner’s champagne. Charles just picked up his bottle and drank it. 
Still wasn’t as sweet as victory champagne would be. 
He deliberately separated himself from Max as they stood for a picture. The visible gap made it much more hilarious for everyone around them. 
When the festivities finished, he hightailed it out of there, just wanting to avoid the Dutchman presence. Charles sighed loudly as he walked back to the garage, definitely not in the mood to talk to anyone. 
“Charlie!
The Monegasque stopped in his tracks, annoyance almost wracking his entire being. Can people just let him wallow in defeat? He straightened his shoulders and turned around, PR smile plastered on his face. However, the very fake smile turned into a real one when he noticed that you were almost jogging to catch up with him. 
Y/n Verstappen. 
You had always been a part of his childhood. Where Max was, you were one step behind him, following him in your small racing overalls. He remembered how little you always seemed compared to your brother. But size didn’t matter on the karting course. 
Most of the time, the two boys found themselves trying to shake you off and others were behind your kart, picking up the dirt that you sent their way. And that’s why Charles put your name down as recommendations for his Prema seat after he won the championship in 2017. Because of him, you were able to graduate to Formula 2 and were on the track to make a debut in Formula 1 in the coming years. 
“Hey Y/n,” Charles said softly, still not in the mood to really talk to anyone. But for you, he’d always make an exception. And he was supposed to fly back with you and Max, something he was still dreading. 
You look at the Monegasque with sympathy. Charles wasn’t able to find any type of pity in your blue eyes (that matched Max’s). 
Your brows furrowed as to talked to him. “What Max did wasn’t the right way to race. But Formula 1 is getting more and more competitive.” 
The man, er boy, wanted to huff. He did not need this conversation from you. He almost turned around, but the next few sentences stopped him from making any motions. 
“Charlie, you’ve always found ways to beat him. If he wants to play like this, then you just have to give him a taste of his medicine, get under his skin. Do what you always do and somehow get around him.” 
He cocked his head, before his eyes lit up. 
Get under his skin.
You watched as Charles’s eyes filled up with some light, making the green in them really shine. You could almost see ideas concocting in his head.
Charles went to say something, but was interrupted by his team principle. He swerved to respond before he turned back to you. There was a glint in his eyes that you really couldn’t put a finger on. 
His took a deep breath before asking, “Do you want to maybe get dinner with me?” 
Your eyes widened. Sure, the Monegasque was very attractive, but those were not the words that you were expecting to come out of his mouth. 
Oh. 
Now you got it. 
Your facial expressions melted a bit, eyes pointed toward the ground as you kicked at it. Your arms crossed as you huffed. 
“Using me for gain over my brother wasn’t what I was meaning Charles. I was thinking more like unfollow him on social media while we’re on the plane or something.” 
The harsh “Ch” that began his name had him wincing. Like your brother, you had a small lisp which normally softened the two consonants to the point where his name sounded like it was supposed to be. And what was “Charles?” You rarely ever called him that, choosing to pick the more boyish nickname. 
Although, your idea about Instagram wasn’t a bad one. 
Charles looked a bit guilty as he scratched the back of his head. He honestly was endeared by you and your determination to never give up. He found you, well, cute. You were still 19, younger than him by a bit more than three years. 
But if you were cute back in 2012 hanging on to Max’s wet overalls after the puddle, and you were cute now trying to console him instead of celebrating your brother’s victory, you would still be cute in the following years. 
He sighed, knowing that he had to leave soon or he was going to get an earful from Sebastian for being late to yet another meeting. The Ferrari driver stepped forward a bit, getting closer to you. He looked down at his helmet before looking back to your eyes. 
“When I win and when I beat your brother, then can I take you out to dinner?” 
You mulled over the question in your head. 
If he beat Max before you went out with him, then that meant that he was actually genuine and wasn’t using it to his gain. You also smirked, knowing that indeed it would piss Max off whenever he found out. Your position as an annoying younger sister would still be intact and possibly stronger. 
You held out your hand, which Charles took in an instant. 
“Deal Leclerc.” 
“Deal Verstappen.” 
When Charles took the top step in Spa, pride filled his chest when he noticed Max’s glare at him. He had beaten the Dutchman at his home race. Albeit, it was a DNF for Max, but a win either way.  He swayed back and forth as his national anthem played and then sang quietly along with the Italian anthem. Deep in his heart, he knew the true weight of the win. 
For Anthoine. 
He knew somewhere he made his French friend proud. Just like Jules. And Just like Papa.
Charles watched down below as you looked like you could hardly keep a smirk off your face. And it was bad too as you stood next to Max, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there below Charles. 
The Monegasque raised his eyebrows when you locked eyes. You just hoped that Max wouldn’t catch on that he was staring right at you. Thankfully, you were right next to a Ferrari manager, so Max could guess that Charles was looking at him. 
When the winner finally got ready, you were waiting outside his garage. 
“Hi,” you whispered, putting your phone away. Charles didn’t verbally respond, but he wrapped his arms around you. You melted in his arms, still smelling a bit of the champagne in his hair. 
He looked down at you. 
“Are you ready for dinner?” 
Your eyes held a playful glint. “I hope you chose a good restaurant Leclerc.” 
He scoffed, keeping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you turned to leave. “Only the best Verstappen.” 
The dinner went really well, but you weren’t expecting it to be a continual thing. 
And then Charles won in Monza the next week, and he once again asked you to dinner. And once again, the Monegasque set expectations higher than you every imagined. You were saddened when Charles wasn’t able to win any more races while your brother seemed to get better and better each race. 
You could only giggle while you watched them still avoid each other in Singapore. 
But, the dinners turned into texting, and texting turned to other dates, and dates turned into dating, and dating turned into a relationship, and the relationship turned into an almost five year commitment that you or Charles weren’t planning to end soon. 
The relationship saw your brother become a world champion in 2021, Charles becoming a world champion in 2022, and you joining the grid as a rookie for McLaren after a disastrous attempt for an Alpine seat.
Charles had been furious and Max had almost found out about the relationship. The two of you were still scared that Max might hold some coldness for the past. But when he called Charles “Charlie,” the special nickname that you had for him, you thought that it might be a good idea to tell him. 
“But mon ange, he will run me off the track if he finds out,” Charles whined into your stomach as you played with his hair before the Miami Grand Prix. 
You rolled your eyes and tugged at the strands. “No he won’t. You have to worry about your teammate doing that to you instead.” 
Another whine left Charles making you giggle. 
“At least you’re starting on the front row. I have to start P5! Oscar has been making fun of me all weekend.” 
The Aussie had been such a God send for you during your rookie season. The elder by a few months had taken you under his wing. The two of you had been so close to a win last year, and with the upgrades this weekend, you were sure that you or him would start on the front row. 
And then you had to be hit during the sprint, which didn’t help the mechanics in the hours before the race quali. That in turn made your car feel weird and P5 was the best you could do. Maybe Charles was secretly transferring his unluckiness into you. 
The Monegasque turned his head to look you in the eyes. You smiled as you leaned down to kiss the top of his head. 
“We’ll tell him when I win a race. How about that?” 
Charles knew that you were just unlucky as he was when it came to winning a race. Last year,  you had been close in Spa, but a rouge rainstorm saw you spinning out on the second to last lap. Austin you had pole, but Max fought you on into turn one, making you go wide. You never saw your brother after the first lap as you fell down the grid. Charles held you each night as you cried. 
The red-clad-driver sat up and held your head in his hands. “You’ll win soon enough. Maybe not this weekend because I don’t have any time to prepare.” 
You laughed and just brought him in to a kiss. There was literally no way you could win this weekend. Beating Max Verstappen with pole from P5 on a track that he had a 100% win rate at? 
Impossible.
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Charles thought he was going to cry as he crossed the line in P3. From you winning or having to tell your bother that he defiled his baby sister, he didn’t know. 
What he did know was that he was going to get out of his car and congratulate you immediately. What were the odds that you won on the anniversary of the stupid inchident, the first time that Charles had ever seen you with Max. 
(And yes, he did remember the anniversary but didn’t want to bring it up.) 
You, however, were frozen in your car. You took some deep breaths as you took the steering wheel off, stood up a bit, bent to put it back on, and straightened, holding your pointer finger up. Your fists clenched as you raised them, automatically hearing the crowds roar when you waved. 
A tug on your sleeve brought you down into Max’s arms. You were a bit disappointed that it wasn’t Charles, but that would be too obvious. 
“YOU DID IT!” Max yelled in your ear, well, your helmet as you hadn’t taken the neon thing off yet. 
You really didn’t want people to see the tear stains on your face. But right now, you’d just stay in the protection of your brother’s arms. When he let go of you, he lifted your visor, twin eyes meeting yours. 
“You did such an amaz-”
“I’m dating Charles.” 
Blink. 
Blink. 
Blink. 
You took the moment of a frozen Max to turn to your team. You looked over your shoulder to see that the Dutchman was still stuck in his place as you got farther and farther away. You grimaced, knowing what was to come if Max and Charles met at any time when you weren’t there. 
An arm around your shoulders brought you out of your head. The light blue caught your eyes, signaling that it was Charles. He patted your shoulders, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. You did feel a bit of pressure move your helmet, so he must have quickly smushed his face into the black swirls. A helmet kiss if you would guess. 
You wanted to turn around to warn him of the imminent danger that was waiting for him in the form of Max Verstappen, but you were led away before you could. 
Your fears immediately went away though when your eyes finally landed on your team. Helmet thrown to the ground, you made the decision to throw yourself at them as well. Your laughs could be heard as your mechanics lifted you higher as everyone seemed to want to congratulate you for their first win since Monza 2021, which you weren’t even on the team then. 
When Charles stepped into the cooldown room, he could feel the awkwardness. It also didn’t help that Max was glaring at him from the corner. Charles was a bit worried. He thought that Max was fine with him now after they had both sort of mended their weird friendship during 2023. 
He turned to you as you walked in, all sweaty. 
Charles still thought you looked very pretty. 
“Eyes off Leclerc.” 
Charles froze in his place and looked between the siblings. He looked at you, then Max, then you, and then Max again. You winced, not looking him in the eyes. Realization flooded his body and he thought for a moment he was going to pass out.  
“Mon Dieu.” 
“We will be talking after this,” Max pointed, drinking from his water bottle, not taking his eyes off Charles. 
When you were called to the little Jeeps, you quickly got into the bright pink Barbie-esque looking one, still buzzing from your win. Even if the two men behind you had put a damper on it. 
Charles’s eyes only fixed on one of the cars, not even seeing the third one behind the second. He climbed right in, eyes closed as he sat down. However, his eyes shot open when the car tilted and a thigh was touching his. He gulped rather loudly, refusing to look to his right. 
This was Vegas all over again. 
Max kept his voice low. “When did it start?” 
“2019. After Austria.” 
“Why?” 
“I wanted to get to know her more.” 
“What was the reason Charles?” 
The Monegasque sighed as he ran his hand over his face. “I was angry at you and wanted to get back at you somehow.” 
He knew he was about to be punched on live television, but he continued hoping for redemption. 
“But, I knew that was wrong. We didn’t even go out until Spa. And then again in Monza. And then it just happened.” 
He turned to look directly at Max, knowing that he only had a few more moments before they had to go out onto the podium. 
“Max I love your sister. I have the ring and everything. We’ve been happy for 5 years and have made it work. Please, she’s really all the good I have left. I would throw everything away for her. And-”
Max’s laughs stopped him from continuing. The Dutchman slapped a hand on Charles’s thigh, making him wince a bit. 
The Red Bull driver’s eyes were crinkled with a smile as they pulled up to the parking spot. 
“Just keep her happy, or I will run you off the track.” 
“Y/n! I told you he’d threaten me!” 
“Max!” 
“Oh come on I did not!” 
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y/nverstappen4 has posted
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y/nverstappen4 WE DID IT! P1 BABAYYYYYYY 🏆
nothing beats a podium with me on the top step surrounded by my boys 💙🧡❤️
liked by mclaren, team_quadrant, charles_leclerc, and 2,903,940 others
queeny/n LETS ACTUALLY GOOOOOOOOO
mclaren that's our girl 🧡 well deserved
lecstappenshipper this is basically a hard launch
y/nhaswins such a beautiful race y/n!!!!
charles_leclerc so so proud of you mon ange 🧡❤️ *liked by y/nverstappen4*
charles_leclerc celebrations tonight? 😈
y/nverstappen4 but of course
maxverstappen1 I know where you sleep leclerc 🙂
y/nverstappen4 DRINKS ON MAX TONIGHT
oscarpiastri YEAAHHHHHHH 🍾
maxverstappen1 what?
charles_leclerc thank you max ☺️
maxverstappen1 I NEVER AGREED TO THIS
oscarpiastri mega job mate 👊
y/nverstappen4 ossieeeeeee 👊 don't worry, you'll be up there soon! just gotta wrap your car in bubble wrap to protect it from evil ferrari 😠😤
charles_leclerc ☹️
y/nverstappen4 NOT YOU CHARLIE - THE OTHER ONE (LEWIS HURRY UP)
lewishamilton you don't think I'm trying 🤨
mcy/n she's so funny what the heck?? 😂
chefy/n we said - LET HER COOK
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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zephyrchama · 9 months
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Writing prompt: If MC had been a sheep since they came to the Devildom and then suddenly became human again, would the brothers recognize them? (Under the cut, all 7 brothers, SFW, written in second person.)
Others might have written about this before, it's a fun concept. In the beginning of the manga it's explained that MC appears to be a sheep for reasons. I like to think that they gradually change back and their sheep characteristics slowly become more human, while maintaining sheep-like qualities for a while, but it's more fun to write about if they just. suddenly. change back all at once, ta-da.
Humans sometimes face adverse effects when traversing realms. The unnatural spatial movement has equally unnatural consequences for human bodies, which is why you found yourself in the body of a small pink sheep when meeting the brothers for the first time.
Solomon and Diavolo say it will wear off in time, as you adjust to the Devildom. Your body will return to normal eventually, but they don’t know exactly how long. Its been quite some time now and everyone just accepts that this is how things are. You are a small pink sheep, and you are family.
You expected a gradual transformation - to slowly regain human features over time as you got used to life in the Devildom. That didn’t happen. Day by day nothing changed, until the transformation happened all at once.
Lucifer
Lucifer had seen your photo on the exchange student paperwork months ago. A generic little square image stapled to the application, hardly better than a driver’s license photo. He might have taken your paperwork out of the student council room and put it in his private office desk for safekeeping, or to look from time to time to remind himself you really were human.
He was the first one you thought to tell. A big change like this was surely worth a visit to his room, even if he was busy. You knocked your usual knock. Now that you were human-sized, you could reach the middle of the door, but the lack of hooves meant your knock was quieter. There were several seconds of silence. Maybe he didn’t hear you. You went to knock again, but a familiar gruff voice called out “come in,” from the other side so you reached for the handle.
There were piles of record book and stacks of forms upon the desk, but the eldest brother was still visible from the doorway. As if sensing something was different, he paused mid-writing and looked up. Lucifer was taken aback for a moment but quickly regained his usual composed poker face. You tried to hide a smile. Seeing him surprised like that was a rare occasion.
“I see you’ve finally gotten used to it here. Congratulations.” Maybe it was the soft light inside the House of Lamentation, but Lucifer thought you looked far better in person than in that photo. He put down his pen and crossed his hands under his chin. It almost masked the way he leaned slightly forward to get a better look at you over the large desk. “Do you feel alright?”
You nodded, it was strange to adjust to your old height again but you were glad to be back in your body. “You’re sure you feel fine? Come here,” he commanded.
Sitting next to him as a sheep while he worked had become so natural, yet doing so now as a human made you feel so self conscious. Your eyes wandered around the room, avoiding his gaze until he grabbed your shoulder and said “look at me.”
To you, he was just being overprotective. A routine check up on the exchange student to make sure they’re healthy after a sudden transformation. Maybe being close enough to feel his breath each time he exhaled was also necessary. To Lucifer, it was the time he’d been waiting months for. To see your glossy hair, not just a ball of wool, and study the contours of your face. How smooth your cheeks were and the way you politely kept up an embarrassed smile. Yes, the real deal was much nicer than a photograph.
Mammon
Mammon had no idea who you were, at first. You were sitting on the couch, wasting time while waiting for the next family meal. The front door slammed open loudly and closed with a bang. Mammon finally strolled into the living room after a long evening of make-up lessons at school.
“When’s dinner ready? I’m starvin’!” His boisterous voice made the house a little livelier. “And hey, where’s--”
He stammered when his eyes met yours and his voice faltered back down to a normal indoor volume. “Didn’ know we had someone vistin’. Hmph.”
Your jaw dropped. Was he really this dense? He couldn’t recognize you despite all the time you spend together? You turned around to watch over the back of the couch as Mammon walked to the dining room, then left to go down the hallway that led to your room. Several moments later he was in the kitchen. You could hear voices, but not what was said.
After some time he came meandering back to the living room. With one hand on his hip, he remained standing and leaned against the other couch. He was agitated and impatient, and with no one else around he turned to you.
It must have been five seconds, max, but it felt like you stared at each other for an hour. You pouted, glaring at the idiot who thought you seemed like an oddly familiar and comforting presence. “Who’re ya here to see? If it’s The Great Mammon, I’m a busy guy. I can’t just stand around. WIthout compensation, I’m leavin’.”
“Mammon,” you said. Just one word. You sounded hurt. It made his heart skip a beat, he’d recognize that voice anywhere.
“Huh? What’d you say?” He heard you loud and clear. He just wanted you to speak again, to hear your voice once more and confirm he wasn’t imagining things.
Of all the ways you imagined showing off your human body to him, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Maybe you were wrong for expecting him to recognize you no matter what, but just like him you would never admit that.
“Oh my gosh, you’re a fool! Here’s your ‘compensation!’” Swiftly, you launched a decorative cushion square at his stomach. Your strike is nothing to him, but you landed an emotional blow when you went to storm off.
He grabbed your wrist before you got out of arm’s reach. Forcefully at first, but quickly realized he had to loosen up to avoid hurting you. “Wh- huh? Is that you? Why didn’t you say anything!? When did this happen?”
Walking away was futile as Mammon was rooted to the spot. “That’s really you, right? This ain’t a joke?”
He pulled you in towards him and spun you around to look at your face. You were mad and upset and relieved that he stopped you and embarrassed at having so many emotions at once. He finally knew, you're his human, alright.
Leviathan
It took a while for things to click for Leviathan.
He first saw you from afar on campus. He wanted to steer clear from you., like with every other student. Though he did do a double-take and stare.
He’d never seen you (well, proper human you) around before, and you looked just like the customizable characters you always created in his games. Same hair style, same eyes, same sense of style. His P2 was real. It was uncanny and he couldn’t wait to tell you all about seeing your player character wandering around campus.
That’s when he realized he hadn’t seen you all day. The sheep you. You were always easy to find due to being bogarted by his flashy brothers. You were one of the few to casually greet him every day as assurance he was welcome at RAD. You were human, and humans weren’t sheep. Didn’t Lucifer say something about that when you first arrived? Oh.
When Leviathan didn’t show up to classes after lunch you went looking for him. It was a tough quest. He wasn’t in any of the usual hiding places and wasn’t answering his DDD. He really didn’t want to see you. Or, well, he really did, but clearly wasn’t prepared to. You finally found him on a bench, shrouded by overgrown tree branches and isolated far on the outskirts of RAD’s campus.
Low muttering gave away his hiding space, unintelligible as he was biting down hard on his thumbnail while he raved. His hair was a tousled mess and from time to time he’d jump up to flail or shake his head.
“Lev-”
You tried to greet him and got met with a glorious, high-pitched shriek. You pushed on anyway.
“Levi! I’ve been looking for you. Notice anything different today?”
“You! Y-y-y-youuu!!” He could not look you in the eye, or look at you at all, but your familiar voice made everything clear. It took some time for him to speak again.

”You sat in my bed! You sat in my lap!” He referenced all the times you’d stay up late gaming with him. He never objected to that before. “You! You did all that! How could you?”

”I… thought we were friends?”
”Well I didn’t know you looked like that!”
All the wholesome memories Levi had of you two bonding, demon and sheep, suddenly changed. No longer were you a cute fuzzball sitting on his legs or snug against him like a plush while he slept. You were a cute human, with human features, sitting between his legs and being held against him in bed. Overnight you went from essentially a security plush to a real person, and he was having trouble adjusting.
“You lied to me! Aagh!” He kicked his legs and pulled at his hair in anxious frustration, his thoughts branching in dozens of conflicting paths at once, so you did the only thing you knew to calm him. A big hug.
He froze right up. You stubbornly told him “I’m still me, you know.”
“But you look…” For the first time he tried looking right at you, but all you noticed was the intense blush across his face. It made you smile.
Satan
Great Detective Satan picked up on your change quickly. It wasn’t hard to deduce for anyone who paid close attention to mysteries, like he did.
You hadn’t asked for any help that morning reaching for things high up. You didn’t ask anyone to carry your heavy school books. Most obviously, you were sitting in the dining room enjoying a hearty piece of toast when he also sat down to eat breakfast. Even though he didn’t physically recognize you, who else would be fearlessly sitting at the House of Lamentation’s breakfast table and happily greeting the Avatar of Wrath?
Rather than the scrambled eggs, Satan was most interested in you. He didn’t hide the way he stared. “You look different.” Slowly, eyes never wavering, he took the chair beside you.

”Oh yeah! Check it out, I changed back!” You went to stand up and show off, but first needed to wipe the crumbs off your face. Too bad the napkin just slid off your lap and onto the floor. “Ah, hold on, I’ll show you in a sec. It’ll be worth it.” You didn’t want to look sloppy on your first day as a human again, and although hands were easier to eat with than hooves, you had prioritized munching on delicious breakfast food over eating cleanly. Without another clean napkin in arm’s reach, you went to pick up what had fallen.
“Allow me.” Napkin unfolded, Satan leaned in close. Before you could acknowledge his offer he had a hand wrapped around your chin. The heat of his fingers could be felt on your lips through the cloth. He spent an unnecessarily long time tracing the contours around your mouth. A cleaning this thorough would surely ward crumbs off your face for at least a week.
A full minute later, Satan was satisfied and leaned back in his own chair. He didn’t stop staring though. You gave a heartfelt, “thanks! Now let me show you,” and stood up to twirl.
Asmodeus
Asmodeus recognized you right away. He was the only one not taken aback, and was thrilled to see you returned to full glory. “You look just like your socials!”
Not one to miss out on trends, Asmodeus had signed up for a few human realm social media sites. He considered it to be the cultural exchange aspect of your exchange program. On particularly slow evenings he’d even scroll through several years of your image posts and save the cutest ones. Asmodeus was very well acquainted with both your human and sheep looks.
“Do you have anything to wear other than your uniform? We really should trim your hair, too. That didn’t stop growing while you were a sheep, huh?” He was immediately all over you, twirling your hair in his long fingers while circling like a predator locked on to its prey.
“Oh really?” You hadn’t noticed your hair being overly long. You were just happy to be back to normal. “Yeah I’ve got plenty of clothes, but my hair? Are there, like, demon barbers around here? Can you help?”
“Leave it to me! And your nails!” His hand found yours and soon your fingers were entwined. He lifted them up, cheerily exclaiming “how about matching with me?” as he pulled you towards his room. It was hard to keep up with him, but at least you stood a chance now unlike before in that small body. He noticed, and with a cheeky grin turned to ask “you're not still having trouble? I’ll carry you, you know. And when you need another trim, you come to me first.”
Beelzebub
Beelzebub lucked out. He came into the dining hall for the most important meal of the day, just in time to see you twirl for Satan, proclaiming “I’m back!”
Your voice was the same, and you smelled the same as ever. He let out an astonished “woah” while taking the seat across from you. This new form was much better than the sheep one. His fears of accidentally hurting you with too much strength somewhat abated. Though, in his eyes you were still tiny.
“Morning!” you greeted. “Notice anything new?”
”Boy, do I.” Through a mouthful of food, he asked “how did this happen?”

“Dunno, it must have happened overnight. I just woke up and bam.” You flashed a pair of finger guns at Beel and he laughed.
After breakfast, you two became alone in the dining room. You piled up the dirty dishes and Beelzebub carried them into the kitchen as you followed behind, saying “we better hurry, I didn’t realize it was this late already.”
“Yeah.” He placed everything in the sink, then turned to face you. He held out his arms. “Ready to go?”
Carrying you to school appears to have become a habit. Beel didn’t even hesitate to gently lift you up like you were weightless. It was an everyday occurrence when you were a sheep. But back in your old body with longer legs, having his arm wrap around your waist without a layer of thick wool to cushion you, things felt different. “Y’know, I might be able to walk to school today.”
“Hm?” Beelzebub took a moment to process this. Like he had completely forgotten you got your body back in that short span of time. “Oh! Sorry. Force of habit.” Almost dejectedly, he crouched to set you back on the ground. You reached around to grab his shoulders anyway.
“Well, I never said you had to let go.”
Belphegor
Belphegor thought he was still sleeping. Your human figure was a familiar sight he had seen multiple times. It was how you manifested in your dreams, after all. Sometimes when you napped together he would pick up glimpses of your dreams. On this day he had made it to RAD with time to spare and was dozing off in his seat when you arrived.
Unreservedly, he dragged himself several feet over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, head on your shoulder right next to your ear. “Hey.” This was a dream anyway, might as well enjoy it.
“Belphie, are you still asleep?” you asked. Physical contact wasn’t so bad, but it got embarrassing in public like this. With a futile shake you tried to rouse him. “Look! Did you notice? I’m not a sheep anymore!”
“Mm, yeah. You’re you.” Avoiding the lights, he buried his eyes in your neck, wishing it was a little darker. He liked you like this. But if this was a dream, why did the light bother him? Why was he still so tired? “Is it… Hm? What time is it?”
“Time for class to start soon. If you fall asleep again Lucifer is gonna kick your butt. Wake up.” You roughly ruffled his hair, causing him to groan and cling to your waist tighter. It did succeed in getting him to raise his head, at least.
After a sleepy pause, Belphegor seemed to grasp his surroundings. He squinted and leaned back, sizing you up. You couldn't tell if he was waking up or preparing to slouch down again until he spoke. “You really changed back? For real?”
“Yep!”
“Heh, good for you.” He pat your sides and let go. It tickled a little. Now, while you were distracted, was his turn to ruffle your hair. Payback disguised as playful praise.
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thesithdiaries · 3 months
Text
Queen's Envoy
Pairing: (fancast) Benjicot Blackwood & Velaryon female!reader
Plot: The Princess is sent as an envoy to get more allies. She is tasked with treating lords in the Riverlands. As she finds herself far from home, she discovers a certain Blackwood boy, who isn't as scary as she thought.
Warnings: typical westeros stuff, badly written panic attack, losing consciousness, being carried (no weight mention tho)
N/A: thanks to my friend and grammarly cause i had such a huge mess
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“Prince Jacaerys will fly north. First to the Eyrie to see my mother's cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn, and then to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North. Prince Lucerys will fly south to Storm's End and treat with Lord Borros Baratheon. And Princess Name will fly west to Raventree Hall and treat with Lord Blackwood. We must remind these lords of the oaths they swore.”
Rhaenyra saw how her children talked in the distance, as they were getting ready to depart. Name held Luke's hand and chuckled softly at something he said. The Queen’s heart ached as they embraced, expressing good wishes and mentioning how they would eat by the beach when they all returned.
-
Flying to the Riverlands was not an issue. As they flew over forests, [Name] rehearsed what she would say out loud. She would speak of uniting the realm, strength, and the promise of a good queen. During his reign, Viserys Targaryen named Rhaenyra as his heir, but the Hightowers were now threatening her claim. The support of the Riverlords was crucial for the cause and [Name] knew this.
Goldwing descended on a small clearing of flowers, allowing [Name] to slide down his wing. She caressed the dragon's face, glad that they arrived safely.
She glanced around, seeing how a group of men were pointing at them in the distance. [Name] heart began to race as she clutched the dagger Daemon insisted she had to take. Goldwing stood tall, protecting his rider.
“We mean no harm,” one of the men said, now at a talking distance. They were all staring at Goldwing in awe, they had never seen a dragon.
“What do you want, girl?” The other asked with curiosity.
“I am here to see Lord Blackwood.”
Their expressions turned from amazement to worry as a guy walked towards her with a crazed, yet amused look. “And who is looking for him?” He eyed her shamelessly, not missing the intricate details in the riding leathers she wore.
“Princess [Name] Velaryon,” she revealed proudly, not allowing herself to feel intimidated.
The boys fell silent, shock evident on their faces. They never expected to see a princess in the Riverlands. The boy cleared his throat and lightly scratched his brow, uncomfortable with his crude behavior. "My name is Benjicot Blackwood," he said. "But I can guide you to Raventree Hall if you'd like to speak with my father."
“Thank you,” [Name] smiled kindly.
They walked quietly, [Name] was enjoying the smell of nature and the breeze. The air was crisp, as the sun had just risen not long ago. [Name] glanced at Ben from the corner of her eye, expecting him to speak about something, since he seemed like the type that would talk for hours. Ben, on the other hand, was very aware of [Name’s] presence beside him. She moved with grace and her eyes filled with wonder at her surroundings. He had never seen anyone like her, and her sudden appearance had sparked different emotions in him.
They eventually reached Raventree Hall. Everyone inside the walls stopped and stared, even murmured, about the unexpected visitor. As they approached the main hall, Ben finally broke the silence. "My father is a good man," he promised. "He will listen to you. No matter what you need, he can help you."
[Name] nodded, grateful for his reassurance. "Thank you, Ben," she replied softly. "I hope he listens. It's... it's important."
Ben gave a small, encouraging smile and pushed the door open, gesturing for [Name] to enter first. Perhaps this meeting would get a strong army to support her mother’s claim to the Iron Throne.
-
Raventree Hall was filled with laughter, clinking goblets, and loud chatter. Samwell Blackwood had reaffirmed his claim to support Rhaenyra Targaryen, the rightful heir.
Samwell sat on the high table, alongside his sister Alyssane and his son Benjicot. The boy, however, could not take his eyes off her. His admiration grew into a silent yearning.
As the evening grew late, Ben found himself drawn into conversations with the Princess. At first, he stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing. But [Name], sensing his nerves, engaged him in discussions about anything that crossed her mind.
Encouraged by her words, Ben found himself talking more freely. He recounted tales of his training, his support for her mother’s claim and of course, about fights he had with Bracken boys. Throughout the night, they shared stories and laughter. Others at the feast noted their conversation and exchanged glances, some smiling at the young boy’s naiveness.
As [Name] stood up to leave for the night, Ben grabbed her hand and spoke without thinking, “Princess, would you like a tour through the Riverlands?”
[Name’s] heart was pounding in her chest. “Of course, I would love that.”
-
Ben woke with the sun, excitement coursing through him.
After getting dressed, he hurried through the castle to the guest chambers. As he knocked on the door, he cleared his throat, suddenly feeling shy.
There was no response from inside. Did she leave without me? He wondered as he knocked again, but still no answer. Glancing down the hallway, he slowly opened the door.
[Name] was there, lying on the bed. "Princess?" Ben called out softly. She turned toward his voice, struggling to open her eyes. "Oh... I apologize for waking you," Ben said, now feeling like he had ruined everything. "We can speak later."
"No," [Name] protested, her voice groggy. Ben's heart fluttered, he thought that was adorable. "Let me get dressed. I will meet you by the gates."
-
Ben was talking a stroll through the gardens, waiting on [Name]. He was debating if he should give her a bouquet of wildflowers when the maester hurried towards him, a letter clutched in his hand. The urgency in his eyes made Ben’s heart drop. Accepting the letter, he noticed the seal of Dragonstone and felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.
He read the brief message: Prince Lucerys was dead.
He found her not far away, possibly on her way to meet him, lost in thought. Ben approached her slowly, the letter gripped tightly in his hand.
“[Name],” he called softly, trying to keep his voice calm.
She looked up, her face brightening before she saw his expression. “Ben, is something wrong?"
He stood in front of her, taking a deep breath. “I received a letter from Dragonstone,” he began, his voice heavy with pity. “It’s about your brother, Lucerys.”
[Name’s] eyes widened, a mix of fear and dread washing over her face. “What happened to Luke?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Ben handed her the letter, not trusting himself to tell her.
Her hands shook as she read it. She stared at him, her face draining of color. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, it can’t be true.” Her breathing grew rapid and shallow, her eyes wide with panic. “Luke...no...” she gasped, struggling to catch her breath. She stumbled, her movements frantic. “I need to get to him,” she cried, looking around desperately. “I need to go home.”
Ben reached out to steady her. “[Name], please,” he pleaded, but she was not hearing him. She broke free from his grasp, running towards Goldwing.
“No!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “I have to go to him!”
Goldwing lifted its head, sensing her distress. [Name] reached for the reins, her hands shaking uncontrollably. “We have to go,” she repeated, her voice frantic.
Before Ben could intervene, her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the ground. “[Name]!” he shouted, rushing to her side. Goldwing roared, eyes glowing with worry.
Ben cradled her in his arms, his heart pounding. Servants and guards came running after hearing the dragon, their faces filled with concern as Ben lifted her body and ran inside to the guest chambers.
Ben stayed by her bed after she was examined by the maester, holding her hand and watching over her. As he sat there, his heart ached, knowing that the pain of losing her brother was something no words could heal.
Hours later, a soft groan had alerted Ben that she had woken up. [Name] stared at the room, confused by her surroundings, before trying to stand up. “Easy,” he begged, pushing her back onto her pillow. “Please don’t stand up.
After some minutes of silence, [Name] rubbed her hands on her face. “I remember... my brother..."
“I know. I'm so sorry,” Ben grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently..
“I… what now?” She asked herself, starting to tear up.
“The maester said you can return to Dragonstone when you feel better,” Ben informed her.
[Name] nodded. “I do not think I can travel back alone,” she whispered to him, causing Ben to give her a reassuring smile.
“Then I can go with you,” Ben softly wiped the tears from her cheeks.
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kooyabooya · 1 month
Text
HIERARCHY
m reader x dahyun // 9k words
(shoutout to @passingnotions for allowing me to adapt this idea <3)
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“I have her here waiting at the desk if you’re ready to see her, sir.” 
“Perfect. Send her up.” 
It’s peculiar for these kinds of rumors to circulate given her status - and even when the sounds of her heels click off against the polished tiles and get gradually louder; until she steps past the open door and into the oval office, you still can’t put together why she’s a controversial topic in the first place. 
“I’m glad that we can finally have this arrangement,” you say, glancing over the more she makes her presence known, “Overseer.”  
-
It’s as simple as it sounds: 
She’s the regulator. You’re the higher-up. It’s your job to assess, determine, and take action. 
And the roles exist for a reason, and every system has its necessary balance. Nobody gets out of line, and nobody ever questions the orders that come from the superiors. Everything feels right in its place, between the people and where this institution stands, but there’s one catch that you’ve sought yourself to see out personally, after hearing some peculiar commentary building up with various faculty members.
This very woman standing in your quarters exudes this infectious aura that sweeps up the whole room. In the case of the students, it would send a chill down their spine, get a few beads of sweat to form in the palms of their hands and foreheads - a quick breath beneath their lips as they tense up because despite not being the main person in trouble, and she makes them feel that way regardless. 
“I would like to know why you asked to see me in the first place,” she says, face stoic as she settles into the seat, gaze locked with yours, “Hopefully this isn’t about what we discussed the other time, is it?” 
Something in the way that she sits, and how the two-piece set of her dress rests along the line of her shoulders, how her eyes dart through yours when you’ve caught yourself staring a bit longer than expected. Make the goosebumps along your arms stand up underneath the sleeves. 
“It’s partly that,” you answer, pinching the edge of your cuff, hoping to divert the attention of death staring in your direction. “Among other things.” 
“Meaning what, sir?” 
Breaking eye contact, the formality alone snaps some composure into you. To recap: you’ve been in and out of meetings all day, talking about future plans to implement amongst the student body and faculty; then there was some discrepancies that was dealt with from past incidents brought to your desk, but the common thread from these accounts all pointed to the same thing: 
“It’s about your recent-” the pause alone of the intended word hanging between your lips makes the Overseer puzzled about this discussion (though with the implications through the reports sitting on your desk, tell a different tale). 
“-modes of conduct.” You tell her, which only earns a quirked eyebrow and a nod, signaling that you’re right. “I’m sure you’ve heard what’s been going around between the other staff members and what not, Dahyun.” 
Even the name alone sometimes sends chills to your body. Overseer Kim Dahyun: the academy’s best instructor. Lead figure when it comes to dishing out disciplinary measures to those who were stupid enough to go against the rules. Once she has someone that’s out of order, it’s automatically assured that there won’t be any further incidents coming from them moving on. You’ve looked at the written reports, noticed that there’s nothing worth putting against someone like her with the reputation that she carries, but no one ever really stays perfect for this long. 
“So tell me, Superior,” Dahyun begins, one leg over the other in her chair while you continue with the glacial pacing around the office, “What is it that you have heard about me, circling around with the other staff in the past weeks?” 
“I guess it’s mainly the latter, the ‘forms’ of discipline you’ve been committing with various students.” 
“What about them?” 
“That's the reason why I’m having this discussion with you in the first place.” 
Dahyun tilts her head down, eyes wandering the opposite direction, reflecting almost as her mind tries to piece the different shards of information rummaging about in her head. She’s one to not leave anything unchecked - down to the minute detail possible. Intricate in the way that she does her line of work, and meticulous with how she wants things to be done. She also gets along well with others to which they speak highly of her. You wouldn’t want to call these accounts ‘accusations’; not yet, until you’ve seen both ends of the scope before drawing up a solid conclusion. 
She turns her head around to see you at the tray table next to the door, tending to the two glasses of water before a wave to the keypad locks the deadbolt into place, to ensure privacy and know that someone will eventually knock without even going to the front desk in the first place. “This is a first for me, especially coming from you, questioning my methods.” 
“I don’t see what you mean,” you tell her, making peace with the glass in your left hand to which she accepts, “I’m only aware of the stories that were told in recent weeks.” Dahyun acknowledges with a sip, eyes still trained on you now on the other side of your desk, “Let this be a simple conversation between you and I, please.” 
“Okay then,” she remarks, handing back the empty glass once she’s done with it, “I’ll ask this again: What is it that you’ve heard about me that caused this whole debacle in the first place?” 
Her look shifts up, maintaining her posture, hands resting on her lap. There’s a few strands in her hair that look out of place, but most of it is neatly tied up in the bun hanging low behind her head. She knows that she holds this sort of entitlement, this status - even from the glances alone in all sorts of seriousness tell you not to mess with a woman like her if you were a student. 
But you’re not. 
The lift from her eyebrows, above the upper rims of her glasses, prompting you to answer. It’s all in your head, right there, the only problem is how the delivery is going to hit her. You have every right to feel bad to be the bearer of not-so-good news, but it’s the part of the job, and the more you stand there in silence with her looking up waiting for a reply, adds on the slow building tension in the room. 
You’re reminded however, of the actions she committed. 
“We have an issue, technically it’s not really an issue, yet.” Dahyun’s gaze twists at that, but it isn’t a look of clear confusion, moreso thrown off at the very topic of discussion. She scoffs, slightly amused, and you can’t blame her for giving that reaction. “Though it’s been brought to my attention in the past few days.” 
And in terms of issues, there’s hardly any throughout the academy; thanks to the dedication towards molding the best and brightest students into civilized beings for the real world. Most of these incidents come at a scarce occurrence alone - but it still happens even if it’s an ordinary day throughout the week. 
She blinks twice, maybe thrice, turns her head away, fixated on the edge of the desk still. Her hands mold together with a small unease, but she still looks empathetic with how her eyelids flutter in the small lines of breaking light past the windows. 
“So say it then,” she says, tone flat - like in her lectures or when having a one-on-one conversation with a troubled student outside the hallways, “since you’re always so on top of the loop with the faculty here.” 
The prompting. It’s so on brand for her to be like this - to set someone else up as a way for them to keep their attention, carrying on with the conversation till she finally has that satisfaction with the answer. There’s some admiration for her, in the way that she doesn’t back down from a disagreement, because she’ll always see it through no matter what the circumstance may be. It’s her strength, and also her weakness, but she’s good enough to not let it show on her face. 
At some point you were afraid of her, something that you can admit to yourself from a long while ago. Not a lot of people at the academy even really liked her because she’s extremely intimidating, and that still seems to be the case now. Though, with all of the different events spread out across the place, some of the roses were given in her effort to come out of her shell which she takes your encouragement. It’s in those rare moments where she laughs or smiles, like a blue moon passing in the night sky. 
You remember the task at hand, what needs to be done. 
“It’s about the students,” you tell her, air slipping through your upper lip as a way of preparation, “I’ve been told by a few individuals that you’ve been having an affair with one of them.” 
“What!?” 
“This is all just speculation,” you say, settling into your chair as Dahyun keeps her posture upright and composed, “Hence you being here to tell me your side of the story so that we can try to line up the two different perspectives together.” 
“That’s what this is about?” 
“Dahyun.” That sense of professionalism has to be cared for. An eye to the desk to the few different reports that insinuate a wrongful framing; some of them were just verbal accounts and had to be on the record, but the whistleblower tip in the form of a post-it note already caused quite a stir around the teachers lounge. 
“All of this is unbelievable.” She plucks her glasses away from her face, catching a few wisps fall out from their spot on the top of her head, clearly irritated. “I have- I have not. In no way those accusations are true.” 
You pull your lips inward, trying to be sympathetic as much as possible in addition to being transparent. Her eyes darted back at yours, fully interested as to what you might say next. She expects an answer, and you’ll give it to her, but all you do is raise an eyebrow to where she scrunches her eyes in response. 
“Are you sure?” To that, Dahyun rolls her eyes. You notice a quick pull from one of the corners of her lip, shuffling the small stack of files off to the side, leaning closer with both elbows on the wood. “I hope you realize that if you are withholding information from me, it can lead to harsher consequences.” 
Dahyun clasps her hand to a fist, face still as stone as you watch her eyes sweep across the floor. A heavy bundle of air leaves your chest, keeping your gaze locked to her, waiting for an answer within the next moments or so. She knows that she can’t shy away from this, and she knows that the only direction to take is the one where truth is the sole passage. It’s also very interesting the way she doesn’t falter, sheltering her emotions inside. You’ve only seen her be the opposite of that - only once, a spell ago, and you were convinced that it was only a one time thing. The silence seems to get louder in the room, and she finally shifts her eyes back to you. 
“Well?” you ask, to break the tension a bit, “You’re not my enemy here. I just want you to be as open and honest as possible.” 
You can see the slightest clench at the bottom of her jaw, gritting her teeth behind her lips. There’s that thought of clear common sense, telling you that what she did was wrong, but that’s just one side of the story. Sure, that someone who created the rumor might’ve done it out of spite, or maybe they wanted to see Dahyun in a state of panic just for the fun of it. Some will say one thing, and others will say another. The only way that you’ll know for sure to make all of this go away is the personal statement directly from her. 
“Overseer.” You huff, sighing out of pure annoyance.
Her brows crunch in response to the title. 
“I need to know. That’s all I’m requesting of you right now.” 
She sets herself square on the seat, facing you; she’s matching your height now in a sitting position, but despite the lack in length is replaced with the demeanor that she carries. There’s been some sort of competition thrown around by the students, talking about how Dahyun’s figure comes second to none with the likes of Jihyo or Mina to name a few. Gawking at the fellow staff members who caught wind of the conversation is what you give them, and it would take a metric fuck-ton of persuading to spill an answer out of your lips. 
Still no answer from her as of this second. 
“Overseer Dahyun,” voice now in a much lower register than usual to punctuate the gravity of the situation, “We don’t have all day; so either you fess up now, or I’ll carry on this conversation tomorrow if I’m not going to get it out of you today.” 
Running her upper lip inward, you carry on with the scattered paperworks spread across the desk as she contemplates, unwilling to make eye contact with her while she keeps her eyes focused on you. By all expectations, you were hoping that this meeting would be quick and easy; just get the required information before writing up a report and be on your way. Still, you can’t help but think as to why she’s being so reluctant about saving her status let alone her job - all because she didn't do something that had very little significance to her and became such a big deal. 
“Fine,” you say, slapping the pen lightly on the desk before beginning to stand up from the chair, “Just forget that I asked and you can-” 
“One.” she finally says, after what felt like an eternity it seems. And then again, “One.” 
“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,” you start, falling back onto the seat; Dahyun collects herself with the subtle rise and fall of her chest, breathing carefully. That crucial first step was already taken, and the plan in your mind to diminish this whole controversy is slowly scaffolding into place. “So I’ll ask this once again in a different way: Are you having an affair with one of the students in the academy?” 
“Yes.” 
“Is it…just the one?” 
“Just the one.” 
Despite how this information may be shocking to a degree, composure has to be kept from this point on. You’re just simply doing your job as the superior, and if this doesn’t get solved quickly, there’s more people in higher places than you that will do what you couldn’t. 
“So,” you set yourself up for the next connecting inquiry, “I want a full explanation for this, as to when and how all of this came to be.” 
Dahyun licks her lips, unsure if what she’ll say next will either be her saving grace or a shortsighted opportunity breeding on disappointment. You can easily tell that she’s uneasy, and it’s very impressive at how she’s able to keep an expressionless face for an instance like this. Put anyone else that works here in her seat and situation, they’d all panic or break a sweat pleading for an appeal to save their own skin. To hell with the fading wish for an interesting day every few weeks or so - because this potential scandal might make the whole week or even the whole year. 
“Alright,” she relaxes, finally letting her body release all of the tension while she flutters her eyes back to you, “For the record, he came to me. It was-” a quick look to the side before subduing the sudden impulse coursing through her neck, “It was supposed to be a simple form of disciplinary action. A one time thing. Had him serve the correction and be on his way. Though, you’re very familiar with, well- you know, the methodology.” 
“I see, and it took you that long to tell your side of the story??” Swallowing the small lump in your throat growing as her eyes fail to leave yours. “But let me guess, he-” 
“He wanted to see me. Actually, he wanted to keep seeing me. I asked him as to why one day, and he was just fascinated with the approach that I do; he just wanted the pleasure for himself and as for me, I reveled in the satisfaction of taking advantage of him.” 
“And you found it to be completely appropriate for this little entanglement to keep on happening?” 
Dahyun then leans forward, and thank Christ you managed to save your wandering eyes from leering a second too late at the overflowing swarm of pale thighs ballooning on the cushion as more and more skin is revealed at the help of that tight light blue dress getting hiked up with the press of her legs. The inquisitive angle of her head at the given question, letting a stray wisp of her hair fall from the side before she drags it back behind the cuff of her ear. “So what are you saying?”
“Well, I’m the one who asked you first,” you answer, twiddling the pen around your fingers, maintaining eye contact with her. “Besides, I’m also not the one stuck in the middle of this debacle in the first place anyway.” 
She sighs, head cocked back, almost vexed that this meeting has gone way longer than intended. You could’ve waited until after hours once all of the students had left the campus, but this was also the best possible convenient time because of the gap in her schedule during the regular day. Her lips stay shut, the soft tick of the clock mounted on the wall keeps on going. Maybe raising a white flag in the means of things might be better for today, and you’ll pick up where you left off tomorrow. 
Most days don’t often go this way. Aside from the usual responsibilities throughout the typical day whether it would be out your desk or out and about peeping in different classrooms, you’re slightly ecstatic for the sudden change in pace around these halls. “I digress,” you say, leaning forward before finally carrying on,  “So as your superior, Overseer, I’ll leave it off with this. Do you have anything else left to say before I draft up a report for all of the parties affected?” 
Dahyun crosses her left leg over the other, clutching the glasses in her hand, her head tilts at that same right angle as earlier. The gaze she has is unchanging, staring at you right in the face while you’re quickly examining the two sheets of paper placed next to each other on the desk, sliding them away into the pile as you stand up off the chair. You’ll take this meeting as a win, at least some of the information was suitable enough to your liking for now. With all that done and over with–
“Still no answer?” You ask, fingers dancing along the button of your cuff, carefully threading it through the small slit, “Don’t make me ask this again–” 
“No.” 
“No?” 
“I told you. No.” 
“Really now?” 
“I have already made my case with you, sir. There’s nothing else left for me to say for the time being.” she answers with a shrug to her shoulders. 
Dahyun’s throat tenses when she sees the once needling eyes from you become quickly disinterested with her return. Incompetence was a sheer rarity with the way you operate your role, let alone a hindrance that you see in other people. Like the rest, it wouldn’t be long for everyone to get whipped into the ‘new regime’ all those years ago; some stimulating commentary at the time, but everyone understood once the policies were put into place. 
Though, this meeting has gone long enough, and keeping her here wouldn’t really do anyone good at this point. 
“Consider this conversation to be over, then,” you say, turning your body to the window panes set behind your desk, looking out at the moving trees in the breeze. “You’ll hear from me within the next few days so, carry on until you’re notified.” 
She then stands too, hand clasping to her wrist, subjectively giving you a nod with your back turned, seeing  her out of your peripheral vision. The emotionless look that’s her only mask, unimpressed and cold, as if nothing ever phases her in the tiniest of mishaps. You know that she’s just like the rest, despite wearing that facade like if life were to depend on it, part of you wants to break her- to tear up that infuriating fray of nothingness, spark some kind of fear into her core that would have her screaming, beg for a twinge of mercy. 
Reading those accounts of what she did with that student, wasn’t supposed to make you interested, but it is. A worthy head-scratcher for someone like her to have a few screws loose every now and then. It just didn't add up, for her to treat this so pointlessly. 
Even when she starts to bundle her feet together, swiveling them across the tile, she still carries this peculiar gracefulness in her step as her profile sweeps out of the picture - her back coming into view. She’s put up with that facade against you for so long, you know that it’ll be easy for her to comply in her case because it’s not in her nature for her to defy orders. 
A turn of the head signifies a chance out of desperation; a lifeline, and you’ll give her the luxury of deciding her fate. 
“And one more thing,” you setup, rolling the sleeves of your shirt to the elbow, to where Dahyun turns her body the long way round, hands behind her back, waiting for the next thing to leave your lips, “I’ll be perfectly blunt with you because I know that you clearly know better.”
Her forehead twitches at the cause of her brows bridging against each other. You see the small nick of her head that also shows the acknowledgement she’s willing to give you, both ears and eyes trained on you once the spread of your fingertips rest on the polished bark. 
“You’re aware of this academy’s policies when it comes to relationships among peers, it’s basically frowned upon,” you tell her lowly, “Let alone of the fact that you’ve been having this intolerable amount of behavior out of the false guise of indignancy.” She starts to internalize this short reproachment you’re dishing out on her, watching as her eyes expand by the passing second, “Now, I’ve could’ve let this be handled by the high council, but they’ve gave the chance to me in order to see if I can get this incident resolved without having any further escalating conflicts.” 
She parts her lips, wanting to take the opportunity at clearing her name, but she holds back since there’s that hanging impression of ‘what’s there left to be said once everything is put on the table?’ And even so, would anything serve to be better in the good graces of innocence for her case?
So she says nothing. Forever holding her peace while you audibly scoff at her. “I expected better from you, Overseer, I really did.” 
It takes the next few seconds to re-organize your workstation, she hangs herself in limbo, gathering her thoughts as the window to save herself starts to close smaller and smaller, and she finally takes the sealed fate into her hands. 
“If I may,” she says, diverting your attention from the desk back to her - hesitant to the point where you can rightfully assume that she’s eager to finally set everything straight: “I’d like to formally tender my resignation here at the Academy.” 
A bold move, Overseer, but a surprise one too- 
“On what grounds?” you ask, clearly taken aback with the sudden course of action by her own admission. “I don’t really see to understand while you would go to such lengths for this little incident-” 
“Because I will admit to you, Superior, that I saw that student out of my own volition. I’ve made the effort to set time aside from my schedule so that he and I could have our private meetings in my office; for the sake of his pleasure and for my sake of being able to satisfy those kinds of requests for him.” 
This tidbit of honesty coming out serves as a great reaction to your scolding, and not a lot of people get the credit they deserve trying to convince a person like Dahyun, but luckily you’re the one - if not the only one to have that ability in advising her. You always believed that she’d come around in some way or another, considering that this was the very first big fuck up from her too. 
“Superior.” The name alone brings you back. “Please, consider my resignation. And I’ll make all of this go away.” 
“I can’t do that.” 
“Why can’t you?” Her voice is strained, a fist at the side of her thigh, nails deep into her palm enough to draw blood, “I have to do this. I need to do this, sir. Please, let me-” 
You can see the desperation start to break through the cracks of her stoic persona, inching closer to where you want her to be. She can play the cool, level-headed teacher all she wants, but you know that this whole fiasco was her doing; like anyone else, they’ll do anything to make things right, no matter the cost. Then the getting ahead starts to seep through your frontal lobe: what she’ll start asking for next, the kinds of lengths she’ll commit to if you’re not the one to throw the figurative lifeline at her. 
Not just yet, guiding her into the right mindset will fall into place if you let the inner workings of panic do their thing. 
“Overseer Kim.” You slowly navigate closer to her, rounding the desk with every moving step across the room. “Even if you were to leave, you can’t. I’ve taken the liberty of locking the door here because I knew that this would happen: the way that you’re acting, we can’t have this.” 
It’s amazing at how she’s at ease, despite having the mini breakdown just an instant before. 
Because her act is rapidly deteriorating. 
“Sir, I don’t follow-” 
“Dahyun.” With a hand to her shoulder, her face freezes right when she flashes a look of suspicion, tensing up at the touch before she locks eyes with you again, the unsureness diminishing with a singular eyebrow raise. “I’m giving you an opportunity to have all of this resolved without any loose repercussions.” You can feel the heart rate within her start to calm down the way her breathing stabilizes, tension along the line of her shoulders releasing with every pass of air, “There would be no need to resign, and we would find a workaround to prevent this from ever happening again.”
“And how would you suggest that, Superior?” 
“By granting you amnesty. Without the word from anyone else but me.” 
You can see that same sweep of her eyes moving left and right, unable to meet yours. The offer alone is taking her a significant amount of time to consider, a mistake that she’s willing to undo. She then looks up with a wistful gaze, the small spark dashing through her irises - as if she had just made the discovery of fire. Her mind starts to work and it’s so easy to tell, reflecting on this potential choice that she’s able to make. “You don’t mean-”
“Mean what?” Letting a sly grin break through your lips. 
“By amnesty,” she adds, tilting her chin up, bearing your arms across your chest, “What would I have to do in order to achieve this?” 
She has a general idea of the term itself, and maybe you think she’s also heard of the many things thrown around with this specific practice or policy of yours. This occurrence has happened a few times, whipping up a few notable individuals into shape - some much more needed than others, but the commonality between all of them: they’d always submit themselves to you. 
“Do you admit and accept the responsibilities of your actions, Overseer?” You formally request with hands reaching to the fine creases of her dress to which she accepts. 
There’s a brief pause of consideration again, and you’re watching her eyes never leave yours, thinking about the whole reason that you two are in this position in the first place. It may be a little hard to believe still; knowing what Dahyun will do not only for herself, but for the academy. Then there’s the logged report from your desk, in detail of what she did with that student, makes you realize that she’s got a screw loose in her head. 
“Yes, sir.” She answers, looking up with a delighted smile, fully realizing the opportunity and taking it with no regret. “I do.” 
“Good.” With a sigh of relief,  a hand escalates to the back of her neck. “Because your punishment begins now.” And she’s in awe of the shimmer in your eyes, slowly grinning when you’re dipping your head down lower, minimizing the distance. It lights a fire within you, a motive of what will entail from this point going forward. 
This is what amnesty is, Dahyun would think, be oh- she has no idea what she just got herself into. 
You learn that she’s receptive, the way that she takes your lips with hers so well, hands flying freely, breath clashing with yours. It’s messy, the way more slick starts so spread on the lower half of both of your faces, wanting more. Her tongue weaves its way past your mouth, a leg hiked up that you greatly take the hint for, channeling the hum of approval coming from her down your throat. She grips tight on the back of your shirt, adamant on taking this chance to build a clean slate, a perfect rush of gasps followed with even more kissing. Her hands are well into your hair when you pull away, a pause to probably call a stop and- 
“So it is true,” she admits against your cheek, “About this little policy?” 
You lift an eyebrow unimpressed at her. 
“What do- you don’t even know what you’re talking about.” you mumble, grip getting tighter on the fine part of her ass, chest heaving slightly, breaths getting uneven. 
“I thought it was just some legend here, around these halls.” Dahyun answers, letting her wrists relax while swooping under her legs, instinctively wrapping them around the small of your back. “Maybe you can show me if that’s actually a real thing.” 
She doesn’t see the flared nostrils you’re giving her, “I’d like to thank you, Overseer,” setting her on the desk nicely when the clack of her heels fall onto the floor, echoing the room as she removes the top piece of her dress, tossing it over to the chair she was previously sitting at, “For reminding me what I was doing.” 
“And that is?” She asks, naively. 
There’s a bit of a shock when you force her body to the desk, a flushed reaction covered with a gasp when you have one hand fastened to her wrist, the other lightly on her neck with the grip on the fingers getting delicately tighter. She tries to read your expression, map out the crinkles falling towards a cross or a devilish smile, feeling your breath graze along the line of her neck in these soft hitches. 
“Allow me to show you,” you whisper, flipping her small body to where her back is facing the ceiling, toe tips nearly grazing the floor but just barely. The same hand to her wrist is now shifted to her back, the other set flat; searching for something to take hold, she peeks over her shoulder, watching you study the way her dress hugs along the shape of her waist and hips. 
Doing this kind of practice was no surprise to you, and it doesn’t happen as often as you would’ve liked. Ryujin took three tries before she’d agree to not be a bother to you, Haewon probably took a few days or more to finally come around, and even Mina just recently. This revolving door into your office and form of chastising was the last resort of necessary actions for your fellow colleagues, some willing to challenge your authority, others were willing to submit. 
“What do you think this treatment entails?” you ask vaguely, raising the lower part of her dress to reveal more and more of her ass into the light, taking note of the noticeable choice of lace as she hikes it up with her free hand. “I sure hope that this should help you learn a thing or two. Though, it’s entirely up to you.” 
Dahyun’s side profile is amazingly flawless to see when you’re gently kneading her soft ass with your hand, palm moving graciously along the fine skin, fluttering her eyes shut, her breathing begins to become irregular, a small tremble to her hips as you press down lightly on the waistband, tugging on the elastic before letting go. The potential is right there at your hips - at your fingertips, to ruin, break skin, a perfect canvas for you to mutilate in any way you see fit. 
You laugh and admittedly, out of spite. “I’m sorry, if this meeting didn’t occur, you were going to invite him over for another one of your private sessions?” 
She seethes, but in anticipation, drawing a sharp inhale of air when your hand slides up her back. Part of you wants to put her back onto the wood, but you let it slide when she lifts herself off to meet your cheek, getting a bit selfish when she’s refusing to pull away. Her swollen lips and lidded eyes are too tempting to stop yourself- as if she’s the one pulling you into her spell. 
“Had I not been found out, I would’ve,” she murmurs, clutching onto a bit more of her hiked up dress, revealing her bare ass to the open air, unveiling a strike point. 
A fast hand tends to hers, placing it with her other hand still pressed behind her back. She writhes at the uncomfortable position but the tension passes through her body once you adjust. 
“You know what I would say to that, Overseer?” 
“What-” 
Nothing is said, but all is shown with a harsh slap to her ass. A statement. 
Strike one. 
Dahyun quietly yelps at the sudden hit to her backside, everything from the waist down clenching from the contact. The rough palm on your hand stings to the point where you’d have to flick your wrist a bit to subdue the burn. Her breathing starts to become irregular, wiggling her legs hanging from the side of the desk. 
“Superior, ah-” 
“I should’ve also mentioned that I’m permitting you to use expletives, but you’re already ahead of the curve as it is,” you tell her, massaging the crimson mark now apparent across the breadth of her ass, feeling the bits of heat emulating across the rough creases of your palm. “You’re now free to speak your mind.” 
“God, f-fuck. I can’t bel-” 
Another rough hit cracks an echo in the room. Earning a high-pitched whine from her. Strike two. 
“Choose your words more carefully.” Fighting the urge to smile at the sight this woman splayed across the table, letting out these heaves of desperation, body tightening and untightening on the surface as she’s hiding her face from you. “I don’t plan on easing up after what you did.” 
“Sir, please. I just need to-” 
You press her deeper into the table, hike up more of that insanely tight dress to her waist, letting her struggle under your grasp. The sounds leaving her pretty little lips would drive anyone else drastically crazy, watching as this uncrowned beauty crack under the weight of your touches with a third slap. Strike three.  
What sets Dahyun apart from the rest that has gone under your specified practices of treatment is the appeal she possesses. At least everyone from the faculty to the students have shared their thoughts about her: few envying and others fantasizing. You’re somewhere between the two, impossible to really tell for yourself, but what’s rest assured: 
There's more than a boatload of things to discover with Dahyun that’s already a list growing by the second. Dragging your fingertips along her thighs, pressing and pinching in spots where you’re trying to assess how nimble she can get, the way you can twist and mangle her limbs into a plethora of ways that’s drawing up with the imagination running through your head. How she shudders when you’re pulling on the elastic of her panties down her luscious legs, drinking in the sight of her glistening pussy lips hanging off the rim of your desk, clearly having an enjoyable time with the slick soaking her undergarments as well. 
“Have we had enough? Or are you willing to take more?” you ask, letting Dahyun keep her own hands behind her back with yours fastened over the curve of her hips, sliding down to her red cheeks, handprints visible as you're soothing the damage. “I definitely think that you can handle more, shall we continue?” 
She shivers, the slightest grasp to her ass gives another hitched breath, caressing it briefly as you’re plotting the next move in your head. 
“You can answer me, Dahyun,” you tell her, leaning down over her back, nose tangling within the threads of her hair, brushing the cuff of her ear before planting a kiss right below it, “But from these sounds I’m hearing tells me that you’re enjoying it.” 
A small twist from her singular eyebrow, lids still sewn shut, “You’re ecstatic, that I m-misbehaved.” 
“Can you tell?” Another slap to her ass and a tug to the soft skin. 
“Y-yes sir, I-” 
And another. 
“I’m not convinced yet.” 
Then another strike. 
“F-fuck sir-” 
One more hit to bring the tally up to seven. 
“Makes me wonder what you were going to do with that poor student if this carried on without my interference.” And at this point her ass has morphed into this ruby shade with every strike that follows. Her shoulders roll back, you’re keeping her in place, wrists still stacked on top of each other, hands opening and closing in response to the pain the more slaps you dish out.  
Dahyun struggles to keep her breathing stable, one firm grab to her asscheek as you’re planting a few scattered kisses down the column of her throat, teetering along the bridge of her collarbone. “Tell me, would this be on your mind with him also?” 
She doesn’t open her voice to tell, but a simple nod is all she gives. “My, my, Overseer. You really are something.” 
You could be satisfied with the way things transpired in this very room, content with the message sent and the warning laced between the lines. A momentary pause, hushing her whimpers, tending to the red tint of her ass, easing the ache of pain mixed with pleasure. Her eyes are scrunched along with the bridge of her nose, gnawing on her bottom lip as your fingertips continue to dance along the sensitive skin. 
“Are you ready for the next part?” you murmur into her ear as your hand trails down to the space between her legs, dragging a pointer finger across the warmth of her leaking slit, listening to the sharp breath passing through her lips again. 
“Mmmm…” Her legs buck against the drawers, dipping the two pads into her walls. The corner of her lip wobbles as she throbs around your fingers, dragging and sliding in a form of trial and error; seeing what she likes and what doesn’t, the light in her eyes filling with lust. “Sir, please, yes, God-” 
She sees another idea spark in your irises, drawing away from the warmth of her pussy temporarily, hands fast to undo the belt around your waist. Dahyun could only watch as you’ve got the leather wrapped around, creating a loose hoop at the end before lightly placing it across the two divots in her back resting above her ass. 
You test the pliancy of the looped belt on your other hand, ensuring that the article rebounds nicely across your palm. “I’ve got one more thing to do, consider this to be a test of some sorts.” 
“What do you mean, Superio–” 
Her voice screeches when you strike the leather in the same spot where your hand hit on her ass cheek; entire body tensing from the sharp pain before breaking down into broken down sobs. She tries to resist by getting up, but you keep her in place as she whines, adamant in believing that she can’t handle it any more. 
“Oh no, we’re not through yet,” you hiss, not paying any attention to the stray heel hitting your thigh in retaliation. “Not until you tell me that this won’t happen again going forward.”
“Just for the record, sir,” Her hand grips the underside of your forearm at the same time your weight begins to stack along her back, furrowing her brows and gritting her teeth. “I wanted this.” 
“So are we going to have a problem like this again next time?” 
“Absolu-” 
The leather belt finds her ass again, the crack in the atmosphere strong enough to mistake for the clap of lightning. 
“No,” she pleads, twisting her head back and forth, sounding off another thwap to make a point. “No sir, we’re not going to have another problem with this ever again.” 
“Good,” you say, the formality alone shortly returning, hands hovering over to her wrists, slackening the belt as you begin to wrap it around her. You’re keeping focus, maintaining your thoughts meticulously, fighting your cock that’s beginning to ache in your trousers. “I’m gonna take good care of you now.” 
Once you’ve got the leather fastened around her wrists, there’s another fill to be satisfied when you slip your fingers back into her cunt, throbbing at the way you curl them inside, earning a few harmonious sounds as her back arches to the touch. She’s melting by the second, “Yes, yes, please sir, I want-” 
“Speak up,” you breathe, sinking down to your knees, hands resting at the rise of her hips, glistening lips into view. Everything about her is a new learning curve, and the way her lower half is still hung over the edge, ankles neatly crossed together like her bound wrists, you almost feel bad for enacting this onto her. 
Keyword almost, and you put your mouth on her other set of lips. Unsure, testing, getting those first savoring seconds up her wet cunt. Her whole body pulls inward, choking down a cry, and you realize, this woman is filled with surprises. 
But you didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself, the shivers she dishes out, the string of hums continue to leave her mouth. This wasn’t the time to keep the niceties - shoving your whole face and tongue into her pussy, tongue slipping through her opening in these strokes, body contracting and relaxing. The fingers also come into play, tapping along her clit and eventually dipping in to where your tongue can’t reach, the wetness soaking your fingers, the short grasps letting you know of that beautiful high fast approaching. 
“I’m gonna-” she says, voice peaking in a higher pitch than the last, the balls of her feet hitting your chest, holding her down at the bottom of her thigh and ass. “Sir, I’m gonna fucking-” 
“That fast?” you ask, gaze glassy, drunk on the sweet slick that’s all over your lips. Biting down the laugh from the top of your throat, “And here I thought you’d hold out a bit longer for me there.” 
She pulls her body up with what little strength she has while being tied up. Panting. Heaving. You’re content with the structured appearance of her face completely ruined, tense, letting her eyelids flutter when she feels your finger slip inside her once more, because another feeling like this wouldn’t really hurt anyone. 
“Final question. Are you going to be good for me from here on out?” 
There’s a silver lining with the sense of humiliation you’re giving her, nearly sympathetic when your knuckle finds its way deeper. It’s wrong, you think, to be like this, but you’ve learned with the years of experience of being in this place that people will only listen when backed to a corner with no other way out. Everyone here is aware of the rapport you have with others, the kind of power that shouldn’t be really shown until it’s a desperate call to make to ensure everyone’s on the same page as you. This time isn’t really different. 
But still, it’s a first with her, and you’ll take this grand opportunity to pressure her into not making another issue for the next time. 
“Dahyun,” you’re telling her again, because she’s just staring at you in awe. The way you’ve been handling her; professional at the surface level, finding a pressure point to the things that she’s been accused of committing, drawing that out of her by any means necessary, until you’ve managed to break her. “Answer me, darling.” 
She comes back to her senses when her body shifts more inward to the wood, resting right at the bending point of her hips, listening to the zip from your pants. The most evil thing she’s done all day: a sly smile breaking across her face, watching you tease the head of your cock along her wet lips. This will be a problem, but a welcome one. You’re hoping that you’ve done your part to the best of your ability. 
“Yes sir,” she answers, shimmying her hips to tease. “I’ll be really good for you. I promise.” 
“I hope so.” you retort, “I can be very convincing.” 
A slip inside, a slow push. It’s electric. Further. Deeper. Filling her cunt up, her walls leisurely stretch around you. The heat alone is euphoric, coming to you in a fast rush. You hold yourself in for as long as possible, but it’s futile; she may have a few screws loose in the head, but you’re not far off the mark as well. 
“God,” she mumurus again, and you drag yourself out slightly. Back in nicely, smoothly into that heat, until Dahyun nods her head in approval. She gasps again when you move past the previous spot your cock was inside her, nearly to the base. 
“Oh, my fucking-” 
A shared gluttal moan parts from your chest and hers, eyes fixated on the sight of your slicked up cock carefully impaling Dahyun, the friction becoming more and more addicting. The muscles in her back start to freeze up along with her clenched hands, fighting against the leather around them. You make it easier for her case, lifting her chest up at the breast, leaning down to seize her lips on yours, holding her steady, cock carving up her walls with every building thrust. 
Nose against her cheek, “This cunt,” you utter, pushing yourself deep as this girl is faltering moans with every hit your hips make with her sore, red ass, “I can’t believe how tight this grips me, god- fucking, no wonder he wanted to keep seeing you in the first place,” and you lean down the line of her back, letting her pussy clench around your cock, feeling the clutch of her walls, all wet and aching for more. 
The thrusting starts to pick up, unrestrained and unrelenting now. You’re not even sure what to do with your hands, alternating between holding at the endpoint of her waist where her hips meet or press her unbelievable thighs together, to make the press around your cock that much better. A premature call to make, in comparison to the other’s that have preceded Dahyun: her pussy takes it in so well, you could bury yourself inside her for what feels like forever. 
“Sir,” she groans out, the sentence being cut off with another slap to her ass, following up with the crash of your hips into hers, holding on to her binded wrists. “Please, please, please-” 
“Please what, hmm?” You can’t really conjure up the proper thoughts to put in conversation, heaving out scattered spells of air with every stroke into her. “You’ve gotta help me out here.” 
“Need more.” It’s a request for sure, and not a vague one. “Please keep fucking me.” 
You do give her more, and nothing less. With every passing second you dive deep into her cunt, the beating in your heart accelerates just that teeny bit faster. The thoughts are out the window at this point, the only thing keeping you from figuratively passing out is the sopping wetness of her cunt every time you pull out and drive back in. The pace gets a bit faster, then you dial it back, watch as her upper body convulses across the desk, mouth hung open for all the moans to be let out, getting louder, more higher, and needier. 
She gasps when you hold yourself inside, thrown off guard with the firm hit you give her, a moment to catch her breath. “Wait, no, fuck, why did you-” 
Dahyun had managed to do something to you that the others couldn’t in this short span of time: break you. Even after all this time, it’s really interesting how the very person you’ve been wanting to see out for an instance like this is the one that’s managed to make you go all out into setting them right. She’s spearheading this thing, and not you. When it should be the other way around. 
A fistful of her hair is grabbed, and her body is raised up, hips flush with hers. “If I hear another question leave your sultry lips, I’ll tape it up so that nobody can hear you screaming down the hallways.” 
She bites her wobbling bottom lip, assuring you that’s exactly what she wants to happen, and it will. Her half-open eyes sees your head go sideways, planting a kiss down her neck, inching your cock deeper into her cunt past the hilt and her body shudders at it. 
“Want me to fuck some sense into you now? Properly? Fuck this pretty little pussy that it’ll make you think right?” 
She nods desperately, “Yes sir. Please.” 
You bend her over across the desk again, hand still tangled into her hair with the other resting at her hips. The pace deliberate at first, savoring the sensation of how her body takes you, parting her folds with every inch of your shaft. She shivers when you tease her still, not going all the way, but making her earn it. 
Now wasn’t the time for easygoing now, the sight of her backside is an eighth wonder of the world to admire, sliding out and dragging your cock back into her, gradually increasing as the additional slaps to her ass again, fucking her deep. You eventually decided that she’s served her punishment long enough, untying the belt at her hands and discarding it somewhere in the office, putting her hands up to the other end of the desk for her to hold on as you mercilessly bury your cock into her. 
“Sir, I can’t keep- fuck!” she cries out, the litany of lovely whines and sounds the more you fill her up. She also takes the liberty of letting you take a breather, moving her hips back, bouncing her ass with you just standing there, watching as her perfect ass does this little ripple effect on the skin, jiggling with an endless movement. 
It was getting all too much, and Dahyun herself was enjoying it as well, smiling with every groan that rips from your throat, hand floating over her hips, piercing your cock roughly back into her again and again, unwilling to yield the remaining bits of pleasure before either you or her reach that point-
“I’m gonna fucking- god, sir, keep going, so close-” she strains, gripping your wrists and tight enough for her to rip them off. 
“Don’t fight me,” you spit, voice leaning towards something primal, “Cum all over this cock.” And she does. 
Your muscles should be spent at this rate, but they hold out long enough as your ears are picking up the endless babbles and whimpers, mixed in with the sloppy strokes of your hips hitting hers. The mind is overloaded with so much, but your hands find rest at her ass again, burying yourself deep. And then it hits you in a flash. 
One firm hit sheathing your cock into her cunt, and you pull out, cumming all over the fine plane of her ass. You’ll need to take a mental image to save for eternity - the way you’re painting in these lovely slashes with your release, all over her ass, her back - because you learn that she looks amazingly good like that. A fine figure, waiting to be defiled and tarnished, and it happens. 
“God, would you look at-” you’re also left in disbelief, the grip around your cock loosening, eyes on leaking pussy lips, she’s hung down, face off to the side, eyes closed, steadily breathing. The words coming out of her mouth are inconceivable, but she’s thankful, praising you, giving thanks. Judging from how content she looks, proves that your hard work is done.
“S-sir,” she tries to say, still left speechless. 
A kiss to the temple of her head, and a ruffle with your hand sliding down to her back. “So, are we satisfied with your conversation?” 
Dahyun takes a minute or two, maybe more, to process everything that’s happened just now. She’s still on your desk, and you’re getting right back to it, slipping on your slacks, picking up the tossed belt that you used as a makeshift rope. Your ears pick up on the heavy breathing from her as she slowly gets up, hands giving her support on the desk, dazed and astounded once things start returning back to normal. 
You fix up the rolled up sleeves of your shirt; Dahyun blankly stares out in space, fixing up her dress and placing some of the various items hit in the crossfire back in their right spot, off the floor and somewhere where you’ll fix soon. 
“Dahyun?” you ask again, watching as she starts to make her way out the door. “Overseer.” 
She turns at the title, realizing she left behind a vital piece to her appearance, dipping her head down in embarrassment, but you can already see the blush breaking through her cheeks. Her breathing is also irregular, but it’s a lot calmer than before. 
“Sorry,” she says, squaring her shoulders, a hand taking the heels in yours. “Thank you, for- uhm, the persuasion.” 
An inquisitive look is what you give her. Meeting your gaze, you notice a few stray strands out of place in her hair, take it upon yourself to use the tip of your pinky to move it away from her forehead. Not much is left said between the two of you, probably just small talk or the comfort of silence finally setting in like before. You can’t really seem to get over the wistful constellations behind the lenses in her eyes - and it’s something that you want to study more about. 
“Right,” you tell her, patting her shoulder before guiding her to the doorway, fingers fast to the touchpad and the quick clicks of the deadbolt finally opens it. “I’m happy enough to see you again, without the intent of correcting your little issue.” 
Dahyun nods in agreement, pulling both of her lips inward to force back the smile, but you see right through her. She begins to make her way out, bare feet on the floor, heels in her hand - a solid lasting impression after today.
“Before I forget Dahyun,” you’re calling out again, and she twists her head around to meet your eyes, “Let’s speak again sometime soon okay? My door will be open for you if needed.” 
She squints, smiling a bit to where you see the bottom bits of her teeth. You give her a nod to emphasize your point. “Count on it sir. I guess I’ll be coming around more often, then.” 
791 notes · View notes
amhrosina · 1 year
Text
Be My Baby
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Summary: Frank takes you on a weekend trip to his cabin after you have a rough week at work. Your first stop? The enormous bathtub with enough room for soooo many activities.
Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.8k
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a/n: hello! i'm back! my personal life is still a wreck but i missed writing for frank. this is probably the most self indulgent fic i've ever written lol it is quite literally the most ooey-gooey romantic plot before the softest smut imaginable. what can i say? i'm a hoe for soft frank. enjoy & thank you to the nonnie that requested something similar to this!
warnings: softest smut imaginable, fluff to the max, 'i'm an asshole to everyone except you' trope, a teensy little bit of crybaby reader if you squint, frank would burn the world for reader, reader is sOoOoO in love with frank (who isn't??), they're both a little wrapped up in each other's world and don't give a shit about what's happening outside of them type of vibes, pet names, etc.
From what you had seen, Frank’s cabin was cozy and warm, but since your arrival half an hour ago, you’d only had the luxury of soaking in the tub while Frank took care of unloading the car. He’d insisted on doing it alone, claiming his girl shouldn’t have to lift a finger for anything, and honestly after the week you’d had, you were temporarily glad he was as stubborn as a mule. You were sure that sentiment would fade the next time you were feeling bratty, but for now, you tried your best to relax and forget what an awful week it had been at work.
The heat of the bath water sent a wave of goosebumps down your spine, enticing a low groan from your lips. Sinking further into the water, you realized just how big the tub was. It stretched at least six feet across and was almost deep enough to stand, clearly a custom made feature of the cabin. You supposed Frank probably needs the room, being as large a man as he is. Still, it felt like you were in a luxurious hot tub, rather than a regular bathtub.
“There’s a button to turn on the jets if you want ‘em.”
Frank’s gentle voice carried across the bathroom, startling you from your relaxed state. You hadn’t even heard him come in. You turned, eyeing his powerful figure as he made his way toward you and sat on the edge of the tub. It was easy to get lost in the way he moved, and you tried your best to not stare at the muscles straining against the black longsleeve he was wearing.
“You okay?” He asked, reaching out to softly run his knuckles along the curve of your damp cheek. He was always gentle with you, but the desire to take care of you was even more present in his eyes than usual. It really had been a shitty week.
“This place is amazing.” You said in awe, turning your face away to hide your grin. His hand, already knowing what you were trying to do, softly gripped your jaw and turned it back to face him.
“You barely saw the place.” He chuckled.
“Whose fault is that?” You raised an eyebrow at him and sat up, fully exposing your bare chest to him. His eyes briefly flicked down to your nipples, hardening as the cool air touched them, before returning his gaze upwards. “Get in. There’s plenty of room for both of us.”
He nodded and stood, but began walking in the opposite direction of the bath. You furrowed your brow, watching him tug his shirt off and throw it on the counter. When he saw your expression, he grinned.
“Hang on. I brought something for you.”
“What do you mean?” You called after him, but he was already moving again.
He disappeared through the doorway, generating even more confusion, before returning with an assembly of things tucked under his arms. You watched as he worked his way around the room, placing various objects here and there until finally he flicked off the lights and turned to face you again.
The room was now aglow with flickering candle light, coating Frank’s looming figure in a warm haze. He’d gone for mostly unscented, knowing how strong smells could give you headaches, but had left in a few lavender candles because he knew how much it relaxed you. He also managed to sneak an entire bottle of champagne into the car without you noticing, of which he was pouring into two flutes. You blinked back tears as he handed you your glass, unable to express how warm your chest felt at the effort he was putting in to make you feel better.
“Frank.” You murmured, smiling bashfully, “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” 
“‘s what you deserve.” He shrugged, stepping out of the rest of his clothes. 
He sank into the tub next to you, tugging your body against his in a swift motion. He sat with his back against the edge, allowing you to easily settle your knees on either side of his thighs, facing him in the dim room. You sat just a little taller than him at this angle - chest pressed against his warm skin, arms resting on his broad shoulders - and God, he looked divine. The drive had taken a few hours, just long enough for the stubble to return to his cheeks after this morning’s shave, giving him a rugged look that you thought was just so handsome. You were unable to resist the temptation of running your nails over it in a soft scratch, eliciting a groan from deep in Frank’s chest. The rumble reverberated through your chest as you pressed yourself fully against him, seeking more of his affection. He tugged your head down onto his shoulder and began running his fingers along the base of your neck in a soothing pattern.
“You never answered my question earlier.” He murmured, resting his jaw against your head. “You okay, sweet girl?”
You sighed, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment as you mulled over your feelings. You were a sensitive soul to begin with, and your boss had been on edge all morning when he finally snapped at you for something you had no control over, which ultimately had you tearing up for the rest of the day. When you’d walked through the door crying, Frank’s eyes flashed violently between anger at your boss and sympathy for you. The sympathy had won, and now you were in a beautiful cabin in upstate New York, wrapped in his strong arms. Still, you weren’t sure how you were going to deal with your boss’ temper when you returned to work on Monday.
“I don’t know,” you finally replied, shrugging, “Can you ask me again later?”
You felt his cheeks widen into a small grin. He nodded, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Don’t think I won’t.” He teased, calling you on your avoidant tendencies before you could even notice them yourself.
“How long have you had this place?” You wondered, nuzzling into his heated skin.
“I bought it a few months after Maria and the kids.” He said softly, almost whispering when he had to relay his wife’s name aloud. “Thought maybe I was done with the city. Change can be good, ya’ know?”
“But you came back.” You lifted your head from his shoulder so you could look him in the eyes. 
“But I came back.” He parroted, nodding. “And then I met you.”
“And you stayed.” You finished for him.
“Of course I stayed. Couldn’t leave you behind, sweet girl. ‘ve been sweet on you since the day I met you.”
This was true. From the moment you’d met, he’d been nothing but gentle and kind toward you. You had no idea, of course, that this type of behavior was incredibly far away from Frank Castle’s usual attitude until you’d met Matt Murdock, who was so shocked at Frank’s subdued personality and general softness around you that Frank had to physically close Matt’s gaping jaw for him.
“But you never sold the place?” You questioned.
“I figured we might need somewhere to run away to every once in a while. Are you mad that I didn’t tell you about it before today? I wanted it to be a surprise.”
For a moment, he looked genuinely worried that he might’ve upset you.
“How could I be mad when I’m sitting in this enormous tub, surrounded by candles and champagne, pressed up against the man of my dreams?”
He smiled then, and you could tell it was a genuine smile because of the way his cheeks dimpled at the corner of his laugh lines. It was an award winning smile, you thought. You gently set the empty champagne glasses on the edge of the tub before cupping his cheeks in your hands.
“My Frankie,” you mumbled, running your thumbs across his cheekbones, “What would I do without you?”
You really hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but every time you looked at him, you felt yourself being pulled closer and closer to him. His compassion and kindness toward you, even after everything he’d been through, was something you couldn’t avoid leaning into. All your life you’d been taking care of others, and finally, here was someone begging to take care of you.
“You don’t have to worry about that, okay? ’m here to stay.” He mumbled, bringing the pads of your fingertips to his lips for individual, soft kisses. “I love you, and ‘m gonna take care of you forever.”
Tears welled in your eyes as an overwhelming rush of emotion passed over you. In your arms was a man that should’ve been bitter and angry at the world around him. He had earned the right to become spiteful and hardened, and no one could fault him for that. And yet - and yet - in your arms was a man that loved you with his entire being. Who understood you at your core, saw the dark parts of you, and loved those parts even more. Who was soft for no one but you. Who you loved, too.
A tear slid down your cheek as you kissed him, long and slow and sensual because you wanted nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and never let go. He smiled into the kiss, cradling your head with his beautiful, calloused hands. It wasn’t enough. You needed his gentle touch everywhere. Pressing yourself against him, you felt yourself sliding along his achingly hard cock, raising the already warm temperature in the room to searing. Heat pulsed between your legs, begging to be touched.
“My pretty girl,” he mumbled against your lips, kissing the corner of your mouth before following the curve of your jawline to your neck, “My pretty, sensitive girl.”
The praise made your head swim. You rocked your hips again, sliding along his length until you were hovering directly over him, waiting for the go ahead to sink down. He grunted, pressing open mouthed kisses up your throat before coaxing your hips lower and lower. You gasped when he finally pushed into you, and Frank took the opportunity to lick the inside of your gaping mouth as he did so. You shuttered against him, wanting everything he had to offer and more.
“P-please, Frankie.” You murmured, arching your back as he bucked his hips upwards.
“Please what, sweetheart?” He breathed, wrapping one of his enormous hands around the back of your head, forcing you to look down at him as you rode him. His other arm was wrapped around your torso, tugging your hips forward and back to stimulate your clit against the base of his cock. It was such an erotic way to be held that you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. He leaned his head against your forehead and kissed the tears that made their way down your flushed skin. “Tell me, sweet girl.”
“I l-love you.” You purred, stuttering as he made his way down your body, kissing everywhere he could reach. When he got to your pebbled nipples, you sucked in a sharp breath. He knew exactly how to get you off, and he was staring right at them.
“I love you too, pretty girl.” He grinned and pressed a chaste kiss to each of your nipples, eliciting a pornographic moan from deep in your chest. 
He continued to push and pull your hips in a steady rhythm, grinding your clit against his pelvis as you bounced up and down his length. Slowly, in a teasing manner that had a new wave of fresh, needy tears streaming down your cheeks, he leaned forward and circled his tongue around the sensitive nub. You whined with impatience as he pulled away, only to offer the same kitten lick to your other breast. You knew he would take care of you like he always did, but his teasing was making your entire body tremble with anticipation. 
“I know, I know,” he cooed, kissing the valley between your breasts, “‘t’s okay, baby. Be patient. I’ll take care of you.”
You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a mewl. You felt the hand Frank had been using to hold your head steady loosen its grip, and suddenly, he was softly wiping the tears away from under your eyes with his thumbs.
“You’re doing so good for me, bunny.” He murmured, and you very nearly came at the pet name he loved to praise you with. “‘m gonna make you feel real good, okay?”
“Please,” you begged, digging your fingers into his shoulders, “Need you.”
That was all it took for Frank to finally snap. In one swift motion, he wrapped his lips around your breast and began to run his tongue across your sensitive nipple. His hand traveled from cradling your cheek to rubbing small, sloppy circles around your pulsing clit. You keened, overcome with so much pleasure that you felt your entire body trembling against Frank’s.
The bathroom was big enough for your soft moans to echo, and other than the sloshing of the bath water, that was the sound Frank heard as you came apart on top of him. Your head was spinning as the heat in your gut finally found its release, uncoiling in waves of overwhelming pleasure that sent you reeling. 
“That’s it,” he breathed, “Just like that, pretty girl. You’re so good for me, baby.”
His fingers hadn’t stopped circling your clit. You were quickly growing overstimulated and conflicted, wanting nothing more than to keep riding him while also needing to get away from his dexterous and sinful fingers. He watched you for a moment, in awe - the way your lips parted every time a moan slipped out of your mouth, the heaving of your chest as your heart rate tried and failed to return to normal, the intense trembling of your limbs every time he circled your clit. He wasn’t worthy. He knew that. He didn’t care. He’d take care of you for as long as you’d let him, and he’d enjoy every second of it.
“F-Frankie,” you stuttered in between heaving breaths, “I can’t- I’m- It’s sensitive.”
“Shh, sh, sh, sh, I know, baby. I know,” he cooed, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone and up your neck, “Can you give me one more, bunny? Be good and give me one more.”
You shuttered against him, resting your forehead against his and breathing out a sultry whine. He continued his onslaught of kisses along your jawline, following the upward curve of your chin until his lips were on yours again. His agile tongue swept into your mouth mid-moan, sending heat into your already molten core.
“Wanna feel you come around me again, baby.” He groaned and tightened his hold around your torso, sweeping his tongue along your bottom lip before capturing your mouth in his again. 
He had brought you to the brink again already. You squeezed around him, earning a rare groan from Frank. The usually stoic and quiet man let out another sinful moan when you arched your back and squeezed again. He was as close as you were to the edge, and God, the tension was palpable. 
Finally, in a moment of pure bliss, he nipped at your bottom lip and let out a soft, barely there whimper, which sent you careening off the edge and into oblivion. You could feel yourself clenching around him as you came, but your head had been sent straight to a euphoric haze. Your heart thundered in your chest as Frank wrapped his arms around your torso and held you tight against his chest, coming inside your sensitive, throbbing pussy. 
You’d both worked yourselves into a haze, high off each other’s touch. The comedown was gentle and warm - soft caresses of each other’s skin, chaste kisses pressed to collarbones and fingertips, thundering heartbeats slowing in unison. The bath water was surprisingly still warm, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle into Frank’s chest with languorous, droopy eyes.
“You okay?” He asked, running his fingers up the length of your spine.
You nodded into his chest, sighing. “I’m perfect.”
“‘m glad.” He responded, kissing your forehead lightly. “‘m sorry you had such a rough week.”
“I’m not.” You giggled, glancing around at the luxurious bathtub you were in. “This place is like a dream.”
He held you tighter against him, resting his chin on your head before responding. 
“You don’t know the half of it, pretty girl.”
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4K notes · View notes
onlyrains · 19 days
Text
𝓽𝓲𝓷𝔂 thing | 𝓵𝓱𝓼
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relationship is scary; what if your partner is too tall for you to kiss them?
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“morning…?” you greeted confusedly at your boyfriend in your kitchen when you just freshly out of a shower.
“morning—you finished already?” his wide back still facing you, unbothered.
yesterday, he called and said he was gonna take you two to have brunch somewhere. but here he was, busy in your kitchen with sleeves rolled up to his firm elbow.
a chopping sound filled the room as you approached him. “aren’t we going somewhere, hee?”
he dropped his knife and spun quickly. “god, ’m sorry, i forgot to tell you. it's just… i watched some recipe videos last night and i think i’m going to try that out today…” his voice disappeared at the end. “is it okay…?”
you gasped. “seriously?” you were genuinely surprised. he was never show an interest in cooking before and preferred to just take a delivery or going out if you both were feeling it.
so today was the first time and you believed it will be written in history.
you glanced at his scattered groceries on the counter. “it is okay, boo. it's even better that you are one who cooks for me. wow.” you give him a wide smile then cupped his face.
he scratched his head, flustered when his favorite pet name came out. “we still could go if this fail, you know. i’m not sure either,”
you chuckled. “have some trust in yourself, can't you?” you tiptoed, tried to give him a peck on the lips but you kissed his chin instead.
you couldn’t reach his lips. that was a new fact for you too. you just realized he was always crouched down or the one who initiate a kiss. you almost hit your own head, couldn’t believe you missed such a crucial thing in your relationship.
he was laughing his ass off when he saw you pout and refused to see his face by hiding it on his chest, embarrassed.
still chuckling, he hugged you and rubbed your back, assuring. “it's okay, baby. it's cute.” actually, he also just noticed how your height just fell around his chest, not even his neck, not even his shoulder.
how could he not noticed his dear girlfriend is so tiny? well, he knew you were smaller than him, but he didn't know that you were basically tiny? even when he hugged you like now, your figure was completely disappear in his body. how could he not noticed that earlier? oh, maybe because he was too busy control his composure everytime he's around you, right?
“don’t mock me.” you mumbled.
“eh? i’m not? why do i have to mock about it? it's so cute, baby, trust me i love it.”
you narrowed your eyes at him. “i can't. you can be childish—”
“says a child—AW! baby, your pinches is someth—”
“but i’m not a child!” you sulked.
“okay, okay.” he grabbed both of your hands in his. “from now on, i’m going to love you like my own child, baby.” he kissed top of your head ran around the kitchen as you chased him.
he was glad he canceled the plans for brunch at a fancy restaurant he found a few days ago. otherwise, he wouldn’t been able to enjoy this stupid moment with you after a week of non-stop working. he was thankful your laugh could literally heal his mind and soul to stay sane.
the brunch he promised was still happened tho it would be more realistic to call it a lunch. thanks to him for always bring your height up every chance he got. don’t get it wrong tho, it wasn’t a bad thing. he loved it, he really did.
it gave him an instant ego boost whenever he noticed you need to looking up fully when you look into his eyes. even sometimes, it made him thinking about the other thing that might put him in an advantageous position.
you were still sat in your dining table when he suddenly towering you after doing the dishes.
you tilted your head with anticipation. “what?”
“nothing.” a smug smile appeared on his lips.
“still haven't giving up?” you asked then stood up on your chair. now you were the one towering him. “what now?”
he wrapped his arms in your waist. “it's nothing, really.”
you rested your hand on his shoulder and finally pecked his lips in a sudden move. you felt his arms tensed up in your waist.
“baby, that's dangerous, y'know.” he whined, his voice low.
you smirked. maybe you both have a same thought today.
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taglist [open]: @llvrhee
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rafesaddiction · 8 months
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It's still not cheating when he's your best friend – Rafe Cameron x Reader (Part 2)
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See here for part 1
Summary: You're excited to see your favorite band live. But a fight with your boyfriend threatens to cancel the trip, until someone you don’t expect to see, saves the day: your best friend Rafe Cameron.
Concept: best friend, only nice to her
Warnings: mdni! – smut, fingering, public, (kinda) dubcon, cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), hints at a toxic relationship, name calling (reader is called slut), protective!rafe
Word count: 3.1k
a/n The past weeks have been really hard for me due to health issues. But I've finally been able to write again. I had fun writing this and I hope you won’t be disappointed reading it. Please let me know your thoughts.
Taglist @dream-pink @dope-trope-105 @rafeinterlude @baby19sthings @yootvi @aaronhotchswife @lilo7sworld
He almost ruined it. For months, you had been looking forward to seeing one of your favorite bands at the beach festival. The day before the concert, your boyfriend told you he didn't want to go and he didn't want you to go either. You had a fight that started over something stupid and ended with him accusing you that you just wanted to go to the festival so you could run around naked and fool around with guys, like the slut you were. You cried when he stormed out and shut your dorm room’s door with a bang. You cried all night.
Your boyfriend was supposed to be the driver. And now on top of all the personal pain you were feeling, you had to explain to your friends that you no longer had a ride to the festival. Neither you nor one of your friends owned a car. You tried to get your parents' car, but they needed it themselves. In the group chat you discussed all kinds of possibilities, until one of your friends wrote that he had organized a car. Everyone cheered at that, and even you, despite of all those tears that kept running down your face, were relieved that you and your friends could make the trip. You not only wanted to see the band play, more important to you was to get out with your friend and forget about the argument you and your boyfriend had.
Your friend also mentioned that the car's owner would join us to the festival, to which everyone naturally agreed and was excited. You even promised to bake cookies for the mysterious hero.
But you didn’t expect it to be him. You could have guessed because that friend also went to high school with you and they had been friends then. Still, it was kind of a shock and you froze when you saw a familiar car on the parking lot next to the dorms. The Cameron family SUV.
You hadn't talked to him since that one night. That one night that should have never happened. That one night that had been the best night of your life. That one night when you had had the best sex of your life with your best friend, Rafe Cameron.
Rafe wasn't much of a texter, but he had texted you. You had written six different replies and never sent one. You had wanted to write him or call him several times. Like last night when your boyfriend had made you cry again. Suddenly you were very aware of how you must look. Your eyes all puffy from the crying.
Rafe was at the back of the car, loading bags into the trunk with the friend who had invited him to this trip.
He hadn't seen you yet, his back was turned towards you, and you were glad about it, because you didn't know what to say, didn't know how to feel. So you were more than relieved when one of your friends arrived shortly after you, pulled you in a hug and decided that you two could already get into the car which was much cooler than standing around in the burning sun, while you could leave it to the guys to load your stuff into the car.
You sat in the middle of the backseat, your friend to your right. She started chatting right away and you felt somewhat relieved that she didn't comment on your boyfriend's absence nor your puffy eyes. Shortly after, the rest of your group arrived, you were six altogether, and luckily the SUV was really comfortable – more comfortable than your boyfriend's old minivan.
Rafe got into the driver's seat, and for a moment, he looked at you through the rearview mirror, before you turned your attention to your friend, as you felt your heart skipping a beat at that moment. You were unsure whether you saw a smile flash over his face, and you didn't dare to look again to check, afraid your face might reveal too much of your inner turmoil.
Though the drive took several hours, time flew by quickly. You had been right. It was good being with your friends and having fun. Everyone was in a good mood, the music was good, there was lively chatting and laughter, there was drinking and snacking, and even stupid car games were played. You might have been a little quieter than usual, but no one seemed to notice – no one except Rafe, who again and again looked at you through the mirror, but never directly spoke to you.
The parking lot of the festival site was already quite full, but Rafe managed to find a good spot for the car. When you got out of the car, you stretched your arms and felt the sun on your skin. It was a very hot day and the car had been nicely air-conditioned. Since it was so hot and the festival was on the beach anyway, your friends and you decided to just wear your bathing suits. You got out of your jeans shorts and shirt, as you were wearing your bikini underneath. You saw Rafe take off his shirt, and one of your guy friends commented that he should put it back on as it would make them all look like total wimps compared to him. There was laughter and Rafe smirked as he casually flexed his chest muscles. It was true. Rafe did look fitter than most guys. It wasn't too much muscles, but he was big and looked strong. Sometimes you thought he looked too good to be real, like a statue of some Greek god… Rafe had caught you staring at him and you quickly averted your gaze, feeling heat crawling to your face.
Since everyone was hungry, your friends and you decided to get some pizza and drinks, and after that more drinks. Everyone was relaxed and had a good time. You smiled a lot – except when you looked at your phone and saw the notifications. Your boyfriend had sent you several texts and voice mails. You didn't open them, you had already seen in the preview window what those texts were about. Obviously he hadn't calmed down. If anything he was even more angry, even more hurtful in his messages.
When looking at the phone, you also saw the time. The band you wanted to see was about to play soon. You asked your friends to go with you closer to the stage, but no one really wanted to move. They said you could hear the music perfectly well from their current spot, besides the booze was here. To that everyone cheered and raised their cups. Everyone but Rafe.
“I’ll go with you.”
“You don't have to. You can stay here, enjoy yourself. I'll just go on my own.”
“Quit that bullshit,” he said and came closer, he had put his cup away. “I'm going with you. So you won't get lost in the crowd. Besides, I know how much you want to see your third favorite band live.”
“You remember,” you gazed up at him, who stood now directly in front of you. You had to shield your eyes since the sun was shining so brightly, but you could definitely see a smile on his lips.
“Of course, I remember,” he said in a low voice, almost whispering and you couldn't help it, you gasped for air.
The smile on his lips turned into a smirk as he continued, “How could I ever forget you dancing to that one song for like all of junior year, hm? You're gonna do that dance again? Wouldn't wanna miss that.”
And he started moving his hips and his arms in a weird clumsy rhythm, imitating what was supposed to be you dancing. It looked ridiculous and you had to laugh.
You punched his shoulder. “Stop that. That's not how I dance.”
He kept on moving in that awkward way and you tried hard to stop laughing – suddenly feeling lighter and more relaxed than you had in weeks – since that night.
You crossed your arms in front of your chest and pushed out your lips, pouting, but couldn't fight the giggles, as Rafe tried some elaborate pirouette which caused him to stumble, but he stopped, directly in front of you. All of a sudden he was calm and there was something so soft in his features which you knew he rarely ever showed anyone.
“Let's go,” it was almost a whisper, then he added in a louder voice. “We don't want to miss that song and that dance.”
You punched his chest, your hand almost hurting as it hit the hard muscle – and felt his hot skin. But you let him take your hand and lead you from the group of your friends who were engrossed in some conversation of their own. His strong hand holding yours felt good, it felt right. Rafe was your best friend. He was the one you trusted most, he was the one who made you laugh, no matter what.
Rafe walked towards the stage and tugged you along with him. When there were more and more people around, he pulled you close to his body. Still holding one of your hands, his palm touched your back as he walked behind you, keeping you very close. He made sure you didn't get lost in the crowd. His body shielded you from anyone bumping into you or spilling their drinks on you.
The place got more and more crowded and he had to slow down. You turned your head to look at him.
“This is okay,” you said.
Rafe frowned as he looked at you. “No, it's not. We're going to the front row.”
“No, Rafe, this is totally okay. I can see enough from here.”
His frown deepened. “No, you can't. You're too tiny.”
At that comment you frowned. “I’m not tiny. You're just a giant,” you said and wanted to punch him with your free hand, but you didn't have enough space to move your arm, so you just ended up placing your palm on his chest. Feeling his hard muscle, feeling his hot skin, and his heart beating. He placed his hand on yours and your breathing hitched.
Rafe held you even tighter to his body as he proceeded to walk to the stage. His strong arms held you, protected you. And despite all these people around you, you only felt him, his presence, his closeness, all around you. Your skin tingled where it touched his, and that tingling grew stronger and became something else. Something that went so much deeper. And you felt a too familiar pulsing in your core.
Some people complained and pushed and shoved, but one look at Rafe’s face and stature and they made room for you and him. He really managed to secure a spot in the front row for you, right in the middle and you got the perfect view of the stage, standing directly behind the first barrier. Only a few feet of empty space separated you from the stage. Rafe was standing directly behind you, his hands to both sides of you, resting on the rail, his arms caging you in – shielding you.
You wanted to turn and thank him, but in that moment the band entered the stage and started playing their first song. You were captivated by their performance and the great atmosphere their music created. There was cheering, singing, dancing all around you. People were pushing and shoving, but you only felt a fraction of that as Rafe's body pressed closer to yours. He was shielding you from all the crowd's wilder movements, while you could enjoy being part of this experience safely.
You even danced a bit, your back rubbing against Rafe's front. When you craned your neck to look back at him, you saw him grin. And you felt a grin on your own face.
The set list was great too. They played all your favorite songs and the lead singer managed to put some kind of spell on the audience when they played a couple of slower songs. Or that spell was just on you, and not caused by the singer, but by something or someone else.
You leaned back a little, your head resting against Rafe's broad chest, feeling his heart beat. You closed your eyes and your hips swayed to the slow rhythm of the song. Your skin touched his skin. And you didn't mind the thin film of sweat covering his body from the heat of the bright sun and the crowded place. You smelled his scent so intensely, it made you almost forget where you were. It just made you feel.
Your eyes opened, your upper body leaned forward, resting your arms on the barrier. You watched the singer putting all his emotions into each and every note. Goosebumps crawled over your skin. But it wasn't from the singer's raspy voice. Rafe's hand touched your hip. Your back arched a little as your butt was pushed back. You gasped. Rafe's hand rubbed over your butt cheek, you felt the rough palm, the long fingers, the cool metal of his ring on your skin. The touch was light, too light, too gentle, too soft. Your mouth opened, but all sounds were drowned by the music and the noise of the people.
His fingertips, just his fingertips, tenderly touched the back of your thigh, moved to the inside of your leg. They moved up and one finger rubbed over the fabric of your bikini bottoms. It was like scratching and you flinched, but that didn't make him withdraw his hand. Instead, the finger pushed harder, pushed to part your folds, pushed to tease you, while the layer of clothes still was between you and his digit.
You felt heat rushing through your body, neither caused by the sun nor by the heat of the people moving around you. You did not perceive any of them. You just felt him, while your eyes were directed at the band on stage performing their emotional song.
Rafe’s finger moved along your slit with pressure. Through your bikini panties his fingertip was able to find your most sensitive spot at once and he began teasing it mercilessly. No one heard it, but you were sure, Rafe felt that you were moaning. You felt a growing need that threatened to take over all your senses. As if he knew that, felt that, perceived that, Rafe pushed the fabric aside – tantalizingly slow. And his fingers found you wet and yearning for his touch. A mewling sound escaped your lips as a finger pushed inside you. You felt your walls clench around the digit. And you felt Rafe tense behind you and you were sure you heard a groan.
The song had changed, you only now realized, its rhythm was faster, wilder. And so was Rafe's touch. His finger thrust into you, stretching your tightness, pushing deep, making you squirm. Your hands gripping the metal of the barrier for support. Your legs started shaking as Rafe added a second finger and began fucking you with his digits. He curled them inside you and your head went back to your neck as you moaned shamelessly. He pulled his fingers out completely, just to push them into you even deeper. Again and again.
The song grew louder, harder, fiercer – and so did his finger-fucking you. Your body trembled, your voice was hoarse and you were whining now. He pushed you further and further, closer and closer to the edge.
Then, all of a sudden, he leaned over you – maybe he was pushed by the crowd jumping about, maybe he needed to feel you closer too – and you could feel his hardness press against your back. You pressed your eyes shut as your climax hit you, hit you hard. The wave swept you away and carried you to another place, where all you did was feel, feel this, feel him.
His fingers fucked you through your orgasm. He had wrapped his arm around you, was holding you close to his body, and thus was also keeping you from falling, since your legs were shaking and you feared you no longer could trust them to support you.
Slowly he pulled his fingers out. And even though you still felt echoes of your high, this also left a feeling of emptiness inside you. A longing that was always there if he wasn't inside you.
You felt his breath close to your ear and heard him say something, but the music drowned his words. You turned your head, looking at him with hooded eyes and saw him lick his fingers.
The rest of the concert felt like in a haze. Rafe kept his arm around you, holding you close, while you watched the band play but could only listen to his heart beat, as your body was still shivering.
When the show ended, people started moving and Rafe took a step back to give you room to turn around to him.
“Thirsty?” he asked you, and you just nodded, not trusting your voice.
His hand on your back, Rafe guided you through the crowd back to your friends, and you had to admit to yourself that you wouldn't have found them on your own.
Rafe ordered something to drink for you at the nearby bar while you stood with your friends. One of them commented that you were glowing and that you looked totally blissed out. You touched your cheek and felt the heat, and felt that smile on your face. She asked if the show had been that good and you replied that it had been amazing. Your voice was hoarse and she suspected it was from you singing along with the band so loudly all the time. You didn't comment on that, just felt another wave of heat going through your body. As you turned, your eyes met Rafe's. A little smirk on his lips as he put a cup into your hand and took a swig out of his own.
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fallingformatt · 3 months
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FIRST GLANCE M.S. PT. 1
Matt x fem!reader
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summary: while walking to the bar with your best friend you accidentally bump into Matt, then later you unexpectedly bump into him again, leading the two of you to do unholy things.
warnings: FILTHY ASS SMUTTT!!! unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, overstimulation, slight degradation, slight praising.
word count: 2.9k
a/n: Thank all of you so much for the love on the last post, as I started writing literally so recently it means a lot to me. Also these scenarios keep popping up in my head and I write them down immediately and just work on them till I’m finished, so yea Im posting three days in a row. THIS IS SO GOOD DOE, not proofread.
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"But I have nothing to wear," I whine as I plop down on my best friend's bed. She really wanted us to go out to this cute bar she found on TikTok.
"Wait, I have something in my closet perfect for you," she said excitedly, pulling out a black mini dress. "It's just a black mini dress, what so special about it?" I ask with a confused look plastered on my face. "It's not the dress that's perfect," she says as she starts to dig around her closet again. "It's what you're going to wear with it," she exclaims.
"Found it," she says and excitement can be heard in her voice. She pulls out a box that has 'GUCCI' written on it. She pulls off the lid and there are a pair of tights in there. "Oh those are really pretty," I say as she opens the packaging for the first time. "That's not the end of it," she says swiftly turning around as she gets on her tippy toes to reach the highest shelf of her closet.
She manages to reach and pull out this little, red shoulder bag that screams money. "See it's not always about what you're wearing, sometimes it's about how you accessorize," she says happily clapping her hands together.
We both do our makeup and our hair while listening to music, chitchatting, and drinking some wine. As I finish my makeup and hair I get up to put on the outfit my best friend picked out for me. "Be careful with the tights, don't ruin them," she turns her head and says. "Don't worry, I won't, thank you for the cute outfit," I answer. "Glad to get you out of the house," she says as she also stands up finished with her makeup, and takes her clothes to change into.
We both step out of the house, ready to go to the bar, enjoy a few drinks, and maybe take some cute pictures for Instagram.
The city is lively, people walking down the streets, the sun almost gone, as the streets get darker. A bit tipsy from the wine we had, we walked, headed to the bar as it's not far from her place, our elbows intertwined as we continue to talk about everything that comes to our minds occasionally letting out a small laugh when one of us tells a joke.
My head is turned to my friend as she's retelling the story about her most stupid hookup, and I can't stop laughing. One moment I'm laughing about my friend's story and the next I feel myself trip over a pebble as I lose my balance. My body doesn't meet the ground, instead, it meets someone's chest. I quickly lean back to stand on my own feet again. I look up and my eyes meet the most beautiful guy I've ever seen. I look at him as I study his features, the fluffy hair, the silver earrings, his light stubble, and finally my eyes meet his, his icy blue eyes I could drown in.
I snap back to reality as I hear his voice "You okay there?" he says, his voice just as attractive as his looks. "Yeah sorry," I say as my friend pulls me to her. "Come on let's go," she says still holding onto my elbow and we walk past this beautiful stranger. As we're walking, I turn my head back to look at him and our eyes meet for the last time as we walk further away from each other, both walking in opposite directions.
We get to the bar and order some drinks, we sit down and look around. The bar really is cute, the ceiling is covered in flowers giving the place a fairytale vibe. I look to my side and notice this huge mirror that's covered in pink bows. "We have to take a picture there," I say as my eyes light up.
We're now 3 drinks into the evening and the guy from earlier crosses my mind. His face, his voice, his eyes. I could imagine him in between my legs as he eats me out giving me pleasure out of this world.
"Hello, are you listening to me?" my friend asks as she waves her hand in front of my face. I snap back to reality and look at her. "Did you hear anything I just said?" She asks. "You cockblocked me," I say furrowing my brows. "What do you mean?" She asks confused. "The guy I bumped into, he was totally into me," I say confidently. "Oh come on, that interaction lasted 2 seconds," she said laughing. "It was enough to make me understand that I need to be dicked down tonight," I answer. "Do you want to go to the club?" She asks. I nod my head happily. We finish our drinks and head out.
We walked around 5 minutes before we were in front of the club's door. Loud music can be heard as we walk in, lights shooting and changing color as we walk deeper into the club. My friend takes my hand as she pulls me into the dance floor. "This is my song," she exclaims as we both start dancing.
Feeling the light buzz the alcohol gave me, I close my eyes and move my hips to the rhythm of the song. I put up my hands as I get lost in the song dancing my heart out.
When the song finishes and I open my eyes, my best friend is nowhere to be seen. I try to move past all the people on the dance floor in an attempt to look for her.
As I walk towards the bar, I feel my ass brush against someone trying to get past the crowd. I turn around and look up. My eyes widen, not believing who I'm looking at.
It's the guy from earlier, the one who broke my trip and didn't let me fall to the ground. His eyes meet mine as a lustful smile appears on my lips.
"You really like to touch me don't you," the pretty boy says. "What are you doing here?" I ask. "Well, what do people usually do at the club?" He answers my question with a rhetorical question.
"Thanks for not letting me fall earlier," I say as I brush his chest over the place I bumped into. "You have to be more careful, watch where you're stepping, it could've been a stinky homeless guy, instead of me that you bumped into, I'm Matt by the way," he says, his charming voice making my knees weak.
"You wanna go dance?" I ask him, and without hesitation, he takes my hand and pulls me into the crowd at the dance floor.
We dance in sync as Matt's hands are placed on my hips guiding them side to side as my ass is brushing against his jeans, my one hand bent backward wrapped around the nape of his head.
I feel myself getting wet as I feel his hands starting to roam around my body, touching me in all the right places. I begin to grind my ass against his crotch feeling his dick getting hard as he lets out a hot breath in my ear.
Now one of his hands has traveled to my inner thigh as the other one keeps resting on my hip slowly guiding it up and down his hard, clothed cock. He sneaks his hand under my short dress, moving closer to my heat. His thumb starts to move in circles on my clit as his ring and middle finger move up and down over my clothed folds. I let out a moan as the pleasurable sensation entered my body. I throw back my head resting it on Matt's shoulder.
I feel Matt's hand suddenly stop, as he spins me around. "Follow me," he says when he leaned in closer to my ear so I'd be able to hear him over the loud music. His voice was dark, filled with lust.
Matt took my wrist and quickly led me to the bathrooms, he approached a door with a 'staff only' sign on it. When he pulled the handle I thought it would be locked, but it wasn't. We went in and it was as dim almost as the nightclub itself only a few colored lights giving the bathroom enough light to see where everything was. It was a big one toilet bathroom though, but it's still weird that the staff would have to do their business practically in the dark.
I snap out of my thoughts as I hear Matt closing the door behind him and turning the lock. He looked at me, his icy blue eyes were now dark, filled with hunger. He takes my hand and pulls me close, smashing his lips onto mine and his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth. His hands travel around my body stopping at my ass, he grabs hard on it.
Without breaking the kiss he lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. I let out a moan feeling the cold buckle of his belt against my heat. He walks over to the counter where the sink is located and sits me down.
He breaks the kiss and looks me in my eyes, slowly kneeling down. His head is now on one level with my throbbing pussy. "Please," is all I manage to blur out.
I feel his cold fingertips trace along my thigh as he stops at my core, rubbing circles on my clit and I let out a loud moan. With one sharp movement, I hear the tights rip making me feel the cold countertop on my bare skin as the tights now have huge runs in them.
Matt's hands guide my legs on top of his shoulders, he pulls me closer giving him better access to my pussy, making me lean against the mirror that was on the wall behind the counter. I let out a whine as I felt two of his cold fingers moving my thong to the side now giving him full access to my dripping hole.
Matt looks up at me before moving closer, placing a trail of kisses from my thigh to my sensitive bud, causing my fingers to intertwine with his fluffy hair. He sticks out his tongue and starts licking circles around my clit. I roll my eyes to the back of my head. I feel his cold fingers pressing against my pussy, teasing me. "I need you," I manage to whimper under my breath and without any hesitation I feel his fingers push deep inside me, his cold rings pressed outside of my pussy.
I moan out loudly as his tongue and his fingers move in a rhythm giving me unimaginable pleasure. His fingers curled inside of me, places so deep I could never reach them on my own, his other hand holding a tight grip on my thigh. I feel a knot forming in my stomach. "Cl- close," I whimper out not able to say anything else.
His fingers slide out of my pussy and his tongue replaces them. Curling his tongue in my hole, I gasp out of the intense pleasure, Matt's now free hand traveling to my other thigh, holding on to it.
My sloppy moans fill the room as the pleasure is too much for me and I can't find the room to take in a full breath. "I'm about to cum," I moan out. He hums against my pussy, his tongue still in me curling inside of me. His voice sending vibrations through my core is enough for me to reach my climax. I let out a loud moan as I tug on his hair hard, bucking up my hips and rinding out my high.
Matt continues to move his tongue inside of me making my legs shake as the overstimulation rushes over me. My moans turn into loud pants, trying to catch my breath. My legs shake uncontrollably as his movements don't stop and he continues to curl his tongue, moving it in and out of me.
I try to move my legs, but Matt tightens his grip around my thighs, his short nails digging into my skin as I let out a hiss. I feel another orgasm coming, legs still shaking. "Don- pl- don't sto-" I try to speak in between my attempts to get some air in my lungs. I feel my vision getting blurry as I feel tears forming in my eyes from the intense pleasure.
My eyes roll to the back of my head as I feel Matt's thumb drawing circles on my clit. This is enough to send me over the edge and I squeeze Matt's head in between my shaking thighs as I cum for the second time.
I ride out my high and Matt stands up, his lips shining a bright red color. "You taste so sweet, I could eat you out all night," he says before kissing me and pulling on my bottom lip with his teeth.
"Get down," he says and yanks me by my wrists. As my feet meet the floor, I instantly lose balance as I'm not able to hold myself up on my own, still unable to fully breathe. Matt catches me, quickly turning me, my back facing him, and bending me over, pushing me against the counter.
I hear him unbuckling his belt before his pants fall to the ground. I look back at him and see him pulling down his boxers. He pushes my dress up revealing my almost bare ass as the only thing covering it is tights with huge runs and now holes in them.
I feel a sting as Matt slaps my ass making me moan out in pleasure. He pulls my thong to the side and without any warning he grabs my ass lifting it up before pushing his dick deeply inside of me, immediately kissing my g-spot on the first thrust. I let out a loud pornographic moan.
"Shit you feel so good around my cock baby," Matt moans, one of his hands placed on my lower back, the other traveled to my hair, weaving his hand around them to make a ponytail.
As he continues to plant deep, hard thrusts in me, he yanks my hair causing my head to tilt back, he leans in and places a kiss on my lips as his other hand now firmly holds onto my jaw.
"You're such a good girl for me, fuck," Matt growls breaking the contact between our lips, throwing his head back as his mouth falls open, his chest unevenly rising up and down.
Both of our heavy pants and moans are now filling the room. "Ahh fuck princess, you feel so tight, I'm about to cum," Matt moans out. My walls clench around his twitching cock as I also feel my orgasm coming, I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, just a high-pitched whimper.
"Look at you, you're so pathetic, can't even say anything, I have fucked you dumb," he says and I hear how smug his voice is.
Matt thrusts a few more times before I feel my orgasm taking over me, and my legs again begin to shake. "Oh fuck," Matt moans out as he thrusts deeply painting my walls with his cum. He lets go of my hair as he pats my head "You're such a good girl," Matt says.
Matt pulls out his cock and pulls the dress over my ass pulling up his boxers and his jeans. I try to stand up feeling dizzy and lightheaded from the slightest movement. I lose my balance and Matt catches me once again. "Awww, I have really done a number on you, haven't I?" He asks teasingly, I just nod as I don't have the strength to answer.
Matt leads me to sit down on the toilet before he returns to the sink, and wets his hands under the cold, running water. He walks over to me and places one of his wet, cold hands at the nape of my neck and the other one on my cheek to help me come back to my senses.
We stand there like that for a while before he wipes the mascara that had run down my cheeks with his wet thumb while looking down at me giving me a warm smile, leaning down, and pressing a kiss on my forehead.
"How you feeling?" he asks innocently as if he didn't just fuck my brains out. "Better, I think I'm ready to go," I say as I stand up. We head to the door and I lead the way, unlocking the door we go out.
I see my best friend, she notices me too and rushes over, "What happened, where were you, I was searching all over for you!" she exclaims with a worried but angry voice as she looks me up and down. "What did you do to my tights?" Her eyes widen. "I got revenge on you for cockblocking me," I say as I smile. "Oh looks like we've got a brat on our hands," Matt says as he chuckles, leaning in, his hand on my hip, holding me tight, so I don't lose support.
"Bump into me again sometime," Matt says as a small smirk creeps on his lips.
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juneberrie · 1 year
Text
in person ✮ EARTH-42!MILES MORALES X FEM!READER
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summary miles flew across the country to tell you something, because it absolutely had to be in person.
author's note THIS IS 100% BASED ON THE NHIE BENVI WEDDING CONFESSION SCENE
word count 0.6k
warnings fem!reader, written w e42!miles in mind but really it could be 1610 too, petnames (mostly mami 😊), reader is wearing a dress
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miles was here. here. at your friend's aunt's wedding. how did he even know where to go? wasn't he in california for some internship? all these questions whirled through your mind as his eyes searched the room for you.
you get up from the table you're sitting at with your friends, eyes locked on miles.
"where're you going, y/n?" one of your friends asks. you shrug them off and walk towards miles.
when you finally reach him, his face lights up in a smile.
"hi," he starts, but you cut him off, gesturing with your hand for him to stop.
"what are you doing here?" you ask. he looks ridiculously out of place at the fancy wedding. you two must look like clowns, seeing as you were wearing a dress that must've been sent down from heaven, compared to miles' sweats and a hoodie. "aren't you supposed to be in california?"
he looks taken aback, but the smile remains on his face when he replies. "great to see you too," he laughs. "i just.. i wanted to tell you something."
"and you flew across the country to tell me? you are aware that you could've just texted me, right?"
he sighs and a hand flies up to rub the back of his neck. "i know, but, listen, mami. i needed to tell you in person."
you cross your arms. "then what is it, miles? what was just so incredibly important that you flew all the way from california to tell me?" its not that you were annoyed with him, its just that, he was your friend, yeah, but things had been awkward ever since you two had, uh, done more than kissed last summer. and then, oh. and then, he ignored you, like a douche bag.
"i... i really like you, y/n," he said, looking at the floor, at the lights, at anywhere but you.
woah. not mami, not babe, but y/n? he must be serious.
you let out a short laugh. his head snaps up. "you know, this is dumb." he throws his hands in the air and turns to go. "it was dumb to come he-"
you grab him by the shoulders and spin him back around. "i like you too. god, miles, i really like you," you tell him, grinning.
he looks into your eyes, hopeful. "like, for real? because now that i think about it..." he trails off, glancing at your lips.
"what? do i have crumbs on my face or something?" you say, unconsciously reaching up to wipe at your face.
"no, no," he laughs, grabbing your hand. he brings it to his lips and presses a quick kiss to your palm. "i was going to say, now that i think about it, i love you."
your brain short circuits. miles stares hopefully at you, a rare smile on his face.
"uh? hello? y/n? anyone there?" he waves a hand in your face and you blink.
"shit, no. WAIT, not no to you, just. oh my god, miles," you ramble. he's still staring, the smile starting to fade off his face. "I LOVE YOU TOO," you say. it feels like you're yelling it.
he grins. "for- for real?" he asks, bringing a hand to your waist and pulling you closer.
"for real, miles," you reply. his grin grows exponentially and pulls you in for a long awaited kiss. you hear your friends whoop behind you and you flip them off, laughing into the kiss. you love miles morales, and he loves you.
"you know, i'm glad you came to tell me in person," you say when you pull away.
"i'm glad too, mami."
3K notes · View notes
seelie-buddy · 3 months
Text
Put your head on my shoulder
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summary : alhaitham keeps you company after you had a tiresome day, but he doesn't realise when you drift off into dreamland
contains : alhaitham is glad to see you rest after you finished off a tiresome task ; fluff ; gn!reader, this drabble is written in second person
word count : 545
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The solitary silence of Razan Garden allowed it to be the perfect place where Alhaitham could visit after his work hours. It was a place he often frequented as a student, and it was during one such visit, that he had met you.
So when the scene from his memories was recreated, as the last rays of sunlight danced on the horizon, he could only smile.
As his boots clicked silently on the stone path, he could see you sitting down beside the decorative flowers; your belongings were scattered hastily and your attention was devoted to frowning at the notebook resting on your thighs.
"What's wrong?" He asked as he approached you, making sure not to step on any of your stationery.
You glance up at him for a brief moment, and the tiresome look in your eyes was not foreign to him.
"I've been going over this equation for a while, and my solution is far from the answer."
Ah, so that's what was bothering you.
Alhaitham acknowledged your dilemma with a hum, as he glanced over your notebook.
The page was littered with numericals, lots of crossed out answers, and ink smudges.
"My entire project is dependent on getting these calculations accurate, and I've been trying for so long," you groaned, rubbing the heel of your palm over your eyes.
With how you managed to stain your hands with ink, Alhaitham was curious about how none got on your face. "When is it due?" He asked instead.
"The day after tomorrow," you answered, staring down at the miserable mess that is your notebook.
"You'll sort it out until then."
You looked up from the notebook and towards the other, who had already begun to read a book whilst you whined.
You hummed, repeating his words over in your mind. You'll sort it out.
Alhaitham's eyes drifted away from his book at the sound of your pen scratching against the page of your notebook. You began anew on a fresh, blank page; he smiled.
The sun, now fully hidden below the horizon, allowed the moon to light up the city. Alhaitham felt a weight against his shoulder, prompting his eyes to move away from his book.
Oh.
You were asleep.
How much time passed, he did not know, but he could wager up a guess of somewhere between an hour and two.
Your eyes were shut, and your hair occasionally flowed with the soft wind, and now that you were asleep, you appeared more at peace; undisturbed by the world, not a worry on your mind.
Alhaitham's eyes shifted from you to the notebook resting on your lap. The page was filled with calculations, but at the end, highlighted, was the solution. Running over the numbers in his head, he guessed you had finally arrived at the answer you were looking for.
In the life of a scholar, everyday was filled with competition and challenges; he was glad you had one burden less off your mind.
And he wouldn't allow the noise of the students walking through the garden disturb this peace you gained.
Without shifting much, he removed the headset he wore, and placed it over your ears. Now, Alhaitham smiled softly at your sleeping figure, you can rest without the world interrupting.
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request, by🌙 anon :
hihi, i wanted to let you know that i enjoyed your recent diluc fic like alot♡
is it alright if i request something similar? as in, reader being tired and falling asleep on the character and they dont mind? if you dont mind could this be for like maybe al haitham?
also, could i be🌙 anon?
a/n : aww thanks nonnie! this was fun to write!!
p/s : If you have any other requests, don't hesitate to send in an ask!!
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418 notes · View notes
Text
Bodyguard
MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST
Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Word Count: 3,565ish
Request: Yay, I'm so glad you're taking requests for Wolverine! Could you write about Logan being in love with reader but he's very emotionally constipated and also thinks she doesn't feel the same... but it's like very obvious to everyone they like each other but they're both oblivious and emotionally constipated so they don't act on their feelings. And everyone's just so done with them both, so they always put them together in missions to see if somethings sparks. And eventually she gets hurt in some mission, he panics and finally finally confesses in a panic like "you can't die on me, I love you, stay with me" sort of thing and they finally get together
Warnings: almost drowning, bullet wounds, overprotective behavior
Notes: This is my first time publishing anything that I've ever written for Logan. Hopefully it isn't complete trash. Sorry if it is trash. Let me know if you enjoyed it!
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The water features in the garden always seemed to call to you. Whenever you could, you were out there next to them. Like right now, it was a nice day and you had taken the class outside for their English lesson. As you spoke, the water behind you would change to match the scenes you were describing. You were so enthralled with what you were teaching, that you didn’t even notice you were doing it. At least, that’s what Logan believed as he watched you from the balcony of the school.
Your passion for what you taught and your ability always amazed him. When he wasn’t busy himself, Logan often found himself watching you teach. Which is where Jean found him, a small smirk on her lips.
“You could just walk over there, you know?” Jean teased. “I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t mind."
“Don’t want to interrupt her lesson,” Logan muttered, still focusing on you.
“You are never an interruption to her.”
His brows furrowed as he glanced at Jean. “Do you need something?”
“The Professor wants us all in his office once Y/N’s class is over. Are you okay to tell her?”
Logan nodded, immediately heading down to the gardens. Jean couldn’t help but shake her head and smile. You and Logan were so oblivious to each other’s feelings, it was cute. Getting closer to your class, Logan slowed down to not interrupt. He slipped into an empty seat as you wrapped up.
“Read the last few chapters for the next class,” you told the students. “Class dismissed.”
The students gathered their things and walked back to the mansion. You gathered your items and stuffed them into your bag. Getting ready to leave, you noticed Logan sitting in one of the chairs.
“Logan,” you greeted with a smile, “what are you doing out here?”
“The Professor wants us all to meet in his office right now,” Logan responded, standing from the chair.
“Do you know what for?”
“Not a clue.”
“We better head there then.”
The two of you began walking in comfortable silence. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to be around each other without saying a word. Your brain often short-circuited around Logan, and you didn’t know why. You were an English teacher, words were your thing, except when it came to Logan. It was slightly embarrassing. Thankfully, only Jean and Ororo had occasionally teased you about it.
When the two of you reached the Professor’s office, Logan held the door open for you. You muttered a soft ‘thank you’ before you took one of the empty seats on the side of the room. Logan took the seat beside you. His arms folded over his chest as the Professor began discussing a possible mission. You did your best to listen while watching Logan from the corner of your eye. His eyes had closed and his head hung. Soft snores were coming from him. You felt bad for Logan. With your rooms right next to each other, you could hear the nightmares that plagued him. Logan barely got any sleep. You weren’t going to wake him now.
Your breath hitched as Logan’s head suddenly fell to your shoulder. You tried to keep as still as you could, allowing him to get some rest. Trying to listen to the Professor and others discuss the possible mission was now a lost cause. Logan was asleep on your shoulder.
It wasn’t long before you noticed that the conversation in the room had died down and everyone was staring at you and Logan.
“I think we’re done for the day,” Charles said with a smirk. “We’ll let you two be alone.”
“Wait—“ You squeaked as everyone quickly and quietly left the Professor’s office.
Logan barely moved, remaining asleep. His head was growing heavier on your shoulder, reminding you that his skeleton was infused with adamantium. You couldn’t wake him though, Logan needed the rest. As carefully as you could, you reached down, grabbed a book from your bag, and began reading.
~~~
Logan groaned, brows furrowing. His eyes were closed but he could tell that his head was resting on something—or someone. He didn’t remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembered was being in the Professor’s office. Suddenly, Logan’s eyes snapped open and his head snapped up. He looked over and saw you sheepishly smiling back at him.
“Hey,” you quietly said.
He glanced around. It was now evening and the two of you were still in the Professor’s office. Logan’s mind quickly pieced together that he had fallen asleep on you hours ago and you had let him.
“I’ve got to go,” Logan’s voice was gruff as he stood up and rushed out of the room.
You couldn’t help but be a little hurt that he didn’t stay longer and talk. You honestly wished he had.
~~~
Logan avoided you for the next week. You couldn’t understand how he was doing it. You could hear him, walking and talking, but you were never able to see him. It stung to know that he was avoiding you and you couldn’t figure out why.
One night, you couldn’t sleep. Your thoughts were racing with the thoughts of Logan. You walked out to the gardens and over to the large pond on the property. You needed to get some frustration out in some way. With your water manipulation mutation, you were not quite a master yet. Manipulating large bodies of water, including the pond you were standing in front of, took a lot out of you. You didn’t care though, you just needed to let some emotions go.
Lifting your hands, you summoned the water, causing it all to shoot up into the air. You let out a scream as you did, already trembling due to the energy needed. You twisted your hands, causing the water to twist together in a large spiral. You continued to spin it together as you stepped into the muddy pond. The water was spinning faster and faster as it grew higher, your emotions taking control of it all.
As you continued closer to the spiral, you failed to look at your feet. Suddenly, you tripped over a rock. You fell, hitting your head on a rock and knowing yourself out. The water suddenly fell back into the pond, making a loud splash as you were buried. 
~~~
Logan couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t been able to since he had fallen asleep on your shoulder. He had also been avoiding you. Logan felt awkward having used you as a pillow. When he woke up, he didn’t know what to say or do, he just felt the need to get out of there. He was too embarrassed to look you in the eye or to confront the growing feelings that continued to stir inside of him.
So instead of sleeping, Logan found himself wandering through the gardens. Thinking of you. He was surprisingly deep in thought when a large splash came from the direction of the pond. Logan rushed over to see the water still splashing like it was trying to settle back into the pond. As he came closer, Logan noticed that someone was floating in the water. It was you.
Before he could even think, Logan dove into the water and pulled your face to the surface.
“Y/N, sweetheart,” he tried to shake you the best he could while keeping you both afloat. 
Logan’s heart dropped when he noticed the large gash on your head that was oozing with blood. Keeping you secure to him with one arm, Logan swam over to the edge of the pond and pulled you onto the grass.
“Logan!” Jean shouted, rushing over with Scott and Ororo. Jean had woken up with a deep sense of dread which then caused her to wake Scott and go looking for the others. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Logan admitted. “I was on a walk and then heard a splash and found her in the pond.”
“Scott, start CPR.”
Scott quickly did as he was instructed. Ororo set a hand on Logan’s back as he stared at your face. Even as you finally coughed up water, Logan didn’t feel any relief. 
“We need to get her to the lab,” Jean stated.
Before anything else could be said, Logan had you in his arms and was carrying you to the lab. The others followed with the Professor meeting them in the lab. Logan set you down on the exam table but didn’t leave your side.
“I need space to work, Logan,” Jean said as she readied equipment.
“I’m not leaving her said,” he responded.
“Fine,” she sighed. “Just give me enough space to work.”
Jean worked quickly to get you on oxygen and hooked up with tubes and wires. The Professor sat by your head and placed his hands on it. Closing his eyes, he searched your brain for what had happened.
“She exhausted herself,” the Professor stated, eyes still closed as he worked through your mind. “She was trying to get some frustration out and used the water in the pond to do so. She ended up tripping and hitting her head on a rock.”
“She shouldn’t have been out there alone,” grumbled Logan.
“No, she shouldn’t have.” The Professor opened his eyes and pulled his hands away. “Y/N should be fine.”
“Yes,” Jean agreed. “She’ll just need to be monitored for a day or two.”
“We can take shifts,” Ororo suggested.
“I’ll go first,” Logan said, with no room for argument. He pulled a chair over and planted himself next to you.
The others heading out to try and get some rest.
“Why was she out there though?” Scott questioned. “She knows better than to try to do something like that on her own.”
“That is something Y/N can answer for herself,” the Professor replied. “Let’s all hope that something happens between Logan and Y/N before another incident does.”
~~~
Groaning, you began to come to. The bright lights seeping through your eyelids and the smell led you to realize that you were in the lab. You tried to move your arm to cover your eyes but soon realized that you had an IV in it.
“Hold still,” a gruff voice ordered.
“The lights,” you rasped.
Heavy footsteps were quick to hit the light switch before coming back to your side. You finally blinked a few times before completely opening your eyes. Logan was hovering over you, his face showing no real signs of concern besides his eyes.
“What were you thinking?” Logan asked.
You let out a little whine as you moved to sit up. Logan’s hand was on your shoulder in a second, pushing you back down.
“Logan, I’m fine,” you told him. “My head simply hurts.”
“You could have drowned,” Logan continued. “You know that you're not strong enough to handle something like that. Why were you out there alone?”
“I just needed to let some frustration out… and I couldn’t sleep.” Logan opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly cut him off. “I’m tired now though. Can I rest more?”
“Fine,” Logan sighed, sitting back down. 
“You can g—“
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”
~~~
Even once you were cleared by Jean, Logan wouldn’t leave your side. He was silently brooding a few steps behind you whenever he wasn’t teaching a class himself. If you were in your room, Logan was in his own, listening in to make sure everything was okay. It should have been suffocating, but it wasn’t.
You began to work harder to gain more endurance with your mutation. Logan was always there to help you. During training, Logan would talk to you the most, but it was only in criticism and hints on how to help you. Ororo and Jean often were there to help you and guide you. When they could, they would tease you about your newfound bodyguard and you would brush them off.
After about two and a half weeks, you were beginning to worry about Logan. Only because he was still following you around and barely speaking to you.
“It seems you’ve lost your bodyguard for a moment,” Ororo stated as she came to sit beside you in the kitchen.
You looked over your shoulder, noticing that she was right. “Seems I have. But probably not for long.”
“Have the two of you talked at all?”
“Only during training and only about training.”
“Have you tried to talk to him?” You simply shrugged. “The two of you need to figure whatever you have out. It’s…well, frankly, it’s getting weird. Why don’t you tell him how you feel?”
You shook your head. “I can’t do that.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s Logan and he definitely doesn’t feel the same way.”
“Oh, sweetie, you are oblivious. You should at least tell him to back off.”
“He’ll back off eventually.”
Ororo sighed. “You need to deal with this.”
“There’s nothing that needs dealing with.”
“Y/N—“
You suddenly stood up. “I got to go.”
You rushed out of the room as Logan went to enter it. You brushed passed him, ignoring his concerned look as you headed for your room. Logan’s hands clenched as he forced himself to not reach out to you and pull you into him. Once you were a good enough space away, he followed after you. Jean was quick to step in his way as you slipped into your bedroom.
Jean was clearly not amused with Logan’s actions. “You need to just tell her already,” she said. “This whole—stalking thing, needs to end.”
“I’m not stalking her,” Logan argued.
“Then what are you doing?”
“I’m watching out for her. Making sure she doesn’t try to overwork herself again.”
Jean sighed. “You care about Y/N, that much is clear. Well, to everyone but her. You need to be honest with her about your feelings. You can’t just follow her around without speaking forever.”
“Watch me.”
~~~
The silent following continued for another week, with the tension between you and Logan growing. One night, you couldn’t sleep again and found yourself heading back to the pond. You were so caught up in your own thoughts, that you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings. Suddenly, you rammed into something sturdy and before you could figure out what it was, hands grasped onto your arms.
“Where do you think you're going?” There was a hint of anger in Logan’s tone.
“Uh, to the pond,” you replied quietly. Looking up at Logan, you could tell that this wouldn’t be a winning conversation. 
“Not a chance.”
“Logan, I’m fine. Seriously, I—“
“You’re not going to the pond.”
“You’re being ridiculous. I’m just trying to clear my head.”
“Last time you went to the pond, I had to drag your floating body.”
You sighed. “I made a mistake, Logan. I’m not going to use my powers right now, I only want to be near the water.” You tried to go around Logan, only for him to move with you. “This isn’t funny.”
“Good thing I’m not joking.”
You shook your head, growing angry. “You are not in charge of me, Logan. Let me through.”
“Not a chance, sweetheart. You’re going back inside.”
“No, I am not!” The anger was controlling your powers, the water features nearby shooting water in various directions. “I am so sick of your silent following and then stepping in like I need to listen to you.”
“It would do you well to listen to me, sweetheart.”
“Doubt it.” Logan’s jaw clenched and you could tell that you’d hit a cord. “Leave me alone, Logan. I don’t need a bodyguard.”
You turned on your heel and headed back inside, leaving Logan standing in the gardens.
~~~
Logan was back to avoiding you and you absolutely hated it. You felt some guilt about it, especially the more you missed his presence. It was a few days before you saw him and it was only because the Professor had called you all into his office for a mission briefing. Once again, the only open seat was beside you and Logan opted to stand by the door.
The Professor explained the mission: to save some kidnapped mutant kids from an old warehouse. Dangerous humans were guarding the warehouse and experimenting on the children. The X-men were needed to rescue them.
“Scott will stay with the jet,” the Professor explained, “while Jean and Storm will pair off and Logan and Y/N.”
“Y/N?” Logan’s question almost sounded like a scoff. “She’s still harnessing her powers.”
You wanted to disappear right then and there. Especially when Jean glanced at you like she knew Logan was breaking your heart.
“You know for yourself, Logan, that Y/N has worked hard to grow her powers,” Charles defended. “She is ready.”
You couldn’t help but be hurt by the look Logan gave you before he left the room. You knew that things weren’t easy between the two of you, but you had hoped he would have been better about it. It was a stupid hope.
~~~
Logan wouldn’t look at you the entire jet ride to the warehouse. And when the two of you headed out, he led the way without a glance back to see if you were there. Once the two of you were in the warehouse, Logan focused on fighting the humans off while you freed the children. 
You led the children out of the warehouse, where more armed men were waiting. As quickly as you could, you threw up a wall of water, trying to slow the humans down as the children ran for the jet.
“Logan!” You shouted as you used all of your energy to strengthen the wall. “Hurry!”
You could hear Logan still fighting in the warehouse and you could only open he was almost done. You turned your head to check and while you did so, two bullets broke through your barrier and hit you in the abdomen. You inhaled sharply as you fell to the ground, water splashing all around you as your barrier fell as well.
“Y/N!” Logan screamed as he watched you fall. 
He roared as he quickly attacked the remaining guards, killing them with swift hits of his claws. Once he was done, his claws retracted and he rushed to your side.
“Shit,” he muttered.
You let out a painful chuckle. “Guess I… did need… that… bodyguard…” You whined as Logan pressed his hands against your wounds.
“You’re not dying on me, sweetheart.”
“I’ll… try…” Every inch of you felt like it was burning. Your eyes were growing heavier with each passing second and everything was becoming fuzzy.
“Stay with me, Y/N… I can’t lose you. I love you… Stay with me.”
“You… love… me…”
“Just stay with me, sweetheart.” You couldn’t stop yourself from slipping into unconsciousness. “No, no, no, no, no!”
“Y/N! Logan!” Ororo yelled as she searched for the two of you. As soon as she laid eyes on the two of you, her heart dropped. “Logan, get her to the jet. Now!”
~~~
Deja vu. That’s what it felt like when the scent of the lab hit your nose and the blinding lights could be seen through your eyelids. You let out a groan, wanting to move, but your body felt weighed down. 
“Don’t move, sweetheart,” Logan’s voice was strong though still fuzzy in your ears. 
“L—L—Logan?” You rasped, slowly opening your eyes. 
There Logan was, hovering over you looking like hell. It was clear he hadn’t slept in far too long and the more you looked at him, the sooner you realized he was still in his suit from the mission. You licked your dry lips and swallowed as you continued to stare at him.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like death.”
His lips were quickly in a firm line. “Not funny. You… you did die… You died in my arms on the jet… you’ve been asleep for over a week now.”
“How did I…”
“How did you survive? Jean and Hank worked miracles.”
“I’ll have to thank them.”
Logan’s gaze suddenly changed into something you couldn’t quite name. “I was so scared,” he whispered, closing his eyes. 
You grabbed his hand the best you could. “I’m sorry… I wish you didn’t have to see any of that… but I am glad you were there.”
“I should have been by your side the entire time. I could have taken the bullets.”
“I shouldn’t have pushed you away… you had every right to be worried about me after I almost drowned… I’ve missed my bodyguard.”
“It’s not your fault, sweetheart. I know that I was a bit overwhelming.”
“A bit?”
“Okay, a lot.”
“Got that right.” The two of you fell into silence. Your thumb rubbed against the back of Logan’s hand as you thought about something. “Logan?”
“Mmm?”
“Did you… did you really say that you love me?”
Logan inhaled sharply as his eyes searched yours for what answer to say. “Yes… I did.”
“And do you mean it?”
He sighed. “I do.”
You smiled. “Good because I love you too.”
A large smile, uncommon to Logan, grew over his face. “You do?”
“Of course I do.” He leaned down at softly kissed your lips. “I know that I was frustrated before, but please don’t leave my side again.”
“Never again, sweetheart.”
337 notes · View notes
ilylovelyz · 4 months
Note
Please do literally anything with Kenma I’m obsessed with him rn
⍣ ೋ how they fell in love
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˚ · . kenma kozume & oikawa torū
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kenma kozume — because you made him an apple pie. it seems silly, yeah–but that's truly what made him began developing feelings with you. not because of the many hours you spent playing with him in silence, talking to basically yourself as he was too shy to respond to a female. not because you gave him your very detailed and simplfied notes you made specifically for him because you knew that he's be too tired out of his mind from the winning-streak he did last night to pay attention today. no, it was because you made him an apple pie, something he only mentioned once in passing.
"hey ken.." you cheekily say, a large grin written across your face. kenma looks up from his nitendo, eyes greeting you silently before they move back to his screen. "wow! such a greeting!" you tease, despite being ignored so blatantly, you couldn't help but giggle at his intense expression that he sports while playing.
you feign a sigh, your hand coming up to tap at his wrist, earning a surprised flinch from the blonde. his hand quickly pulls away, allowing you to take advantage of the opening he gave you and snatch his nitendo from his other hand. "y/l/n-san.. what are you doing..?" he groans out, his hands trying to reach over the desk to steal back his game.
to anyone else, it looks like he hates you. maybe he does–, but to you, that's just the way he speaks. "oh please, you can spare a minute or two." with that, you're smiling greatly at him and suddenly pulling out a black container, setting it on top of his desk. "ta da~!" you laugh, your hands laying on top of your knees anxiously.
his cat-like eyes glance up at your own, confused, he just sits there. you dart your eyes back up to him and to the container, hoping that he'll get the message to open it. it seems to work, "...you wan't me to open it?" you roll your eyes at his response, "noooo, it's just gonna stay on your desk for all eternity.. jeez—just open it already!" kenma jumps at your raised tone, rushing to open the container in hopes of settling you down.
he blinks down at the contents inside the container, his hands resting on the edges. "this is.. apple pie..? for me?" he asks, his tone more soft onces he realizes. "i made it, for you." you smile, urging him on to taste it. "here," you lift a the pink fork on the inside, slicing the apple pie and lifting it up, only stopping in front of kenma's mouth.
he glances up at you once more, his eyes training onto the piece of apple pie. it does look yummy... finally, he moves forward and takes the bite into his mouth, chewing it slowly to inspect it. you watch him closely, watching for any reactions.
with a swallow, he sits there, his eyes looking elsewhere. "it was good," he admits, earning a content laugh from you. before you could ask him anything else, you heard the call of your name. you follow the voice, seeing that it's your friend standing in the doorway. she calls for you, wanting you to come with her.
"enjoy it, kenma-chan," you say, giving him back his console and walking away. kenma stares at you blankly, still holding the fork in his hand as he watches you leave the classroom. his eyes glance back at the miniature apple pie, sighing softly. he digs his fork in for another piece. he's glad you left, that you didn't see him blush so much when he took the first bite of the best apple pie he's had in awhile.
oikawa torū — because you stood out from the others and stood your ground. despite the two of you not dating or talking, you were still running the "relationship". he thought because of his looks, you'd easily give in like the rest of them, fall to your knees and end up heartbroken when he'd leave. but no, you made him work for it–for you. hell, he couldn't even tell if you liked him back. he didn't even realize it, but he was chasing you around like some lovesick puppy, following your orders and looking up at you like you were some goddess. he finally realized it when you called him out for it, and even then, it made his heart pound in his chest for you.
oikawa watches with those pretty brown eyes of his, they reflect of his target, you. he chews on his pretty lips, ripping the skin of their delicate flesh. his features, oh his pretty features, once so relaxed and perfect, are now scrunched up into a face of worry and fear.
he watches you, his eyes occasionally darting to the random guy next to you whenever he talks to you once more. in this moment, oikawa wishes so bad he was in your proximity, he wants to hear what the stranger is saying to you. is he flirting with you? is he asking for your number? maybe he's a family member. no, wait, no family member would move close to you like that.. no, no family member would wrap their arm around your shoulder!?
oikawa leaves the court, running hurriedly to where you sit. he ignores that the game is about to start, and that he hasn't even stretched yet. he makes his way up the bleachers, hastely walking towards you. but it seems your attention isn't even on him, it's on the guy next to you instead. or is it? from what he sees, it is. but really, you're just letting the scene in front of you play, it's cute to see oikawa this way about you.
"y/n-chan." he says, trying to make his voice sound as stern as possible. you feign a giggle at the guy next to you, pretending to not hear oikawa to bait him even further. it works, as before you can react he's wrapping his hand around your wrist and pulling you up from your seat and down the bleachers, practically dragging you out of the gym.
you hold back a menacing laugh as oikawa pushes you against the wall of the gym, seeing the hurt and fear on his handsome face. "y/n-chan, who was that? why'd you ignore me?" he asks, his lips pulled downwards into a frown. he cups both of your hands into his own, holding them tightly. "huh? what are you talkin' about? i didn't even know you were there." you say, acting dumb about the whole situation.
"yes you–, y/n-chan who was that guy?!" he whines, desperate to know the answer. his whining is cut short when you snap back your hands from him, lightly pushing him away from you. "why do you care? we aren't even dating." your voice is feigned with annoyance, your arms crossed upon your chest.
his heart drops at the realization. right.. the two of you aren't even a thing. his eyebrows furrow at the thought, he thought, just like the rest, you'd be the one to ask him out, not the other way around. if the two of you aren't even a thing, then why does he care? much to his own expectations, he doesn't even know.
he sighs deeply in defeat, his hand subconsciously moving towards yours. his eyes are glued to the ground, lips stuck into a thin line. you try not to let it show, but it breaks through, your laugh just escapes through your throat, confusing the already upset oikawa. "what's so funny?" he asks, his eyes wide at your sudden outburst. "haha–it's–it's, really nothing, heh–, you're so cute, toru," you struggle to say, emphasizing the use of his first name, he's begged you to call him by his first name, but you've just never done that.
his heart fluters at the use of his name, blush coating his cheeks so nicely. cute? "oh.. oh, were you messing with me?" he asks timidly, his hand coming up to scratch at his nape. oikawa lightly scoffs when you nod, still laughing at your own cruel joke.
finally, with a last chuckle, you nod your head, smiling mischievously at him. "so then.. who was that guy?" he asks, feeling more confident within himself. you shrug your shoulders, "a friend i paid $5 to act like he was flirting with me."
oh. oikawa sheepishly backs away, his face painted a light color of pink. he feels his phone vibrate, probably a text from iwaizumi calling to see where he's at. just as he takes out his phone and is about to open it, you're pushing yourself forward, your hands planting themselves flat on his chest as you get onto your tippy toes to give a longing kiss onto the apples of his cheeks.
"good luck," you say cheekily, returning flat onto your feet and walking away from the dazed oikawa. he can only turn his head to watch as you walk back into the gym, his cheek tingling in the spot where you kissed him. god, you just have him wrapped around your finger.
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vivalabunbun · 2 years
Text
Do I Meet Your Qualifications Now?
Summary: A promise made long ago resurfaces during a night of drinks with colleagues. 
Word Count: 8.2k (now this is the longest fic I’ve ever written)
Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18), NSFW, MDNI, Modern AU, Childhood Friends AU, Office au? kinda, Mutual Pinning, Fluff, slight dubcon, slight angst, mentions of office sexual harassment, creepy boss, mentions of marriage, slight yandere!alhaitham, slight mentions of breeding maybe? Jealously, possessive!alhaitham, you enjoy drinks at a tavern with the sumeru boys.  
Authors note: This is my first smut in a long long time, I just thought about how alhaitham’s bottled up emotions will one day bubble over, inspired by a small ramble of mine lol. Enjoy. 
side note: here is a small continuation after this story
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You needed a drink, something strong enough to forget about your growing workload that your paycheck no longer justified. With each new stack of paperwork that reached your desk, the resignation form became increasingly more appealing. You were drained by the time you clocked out at 6 pm, after having to attend 4 meetings throughout the day, all of which could have been a simple email. 
“No no, this company has good 401K matching, paid time off, and dental included. 401K and dental, 401K and dental.” You chanted to yourself, trying to steel your resolve against throwing your two weeks' notice in the face of your manager who has been pushing more and more of his work onto you. 
All while having the gall to be flirty. As if that ugly gold band wasn’t visible on his finger. Your cheeks hurt after having to hold your business professional smile for the past eight hours. The moment you stepped foot beyond those sliding glass doors, massaging your sore face with one hand. 
‘It should be happy hour now, better get a spot at the bar now,’ you thought as you took off your stiff blazer. 
You swore one day you’ll catch a cold from constantly subjecting your body to the dramatic shift of your tundra of an office to the sauna that was Sumeru’s climate. Ugh, stupid professional dress code, and stupid you for deciding to wear your new heels today. The back of your ankles felt raw despite the thin layer of your stockings reducing some of the chafing.
As the saying goes, thank god it was Friday, even though you couldn’t take a half day like so many of your co-workers, you were just glad to finally be out of sight from your manager with wandering eyes. 
Pushing in the wooden doors to the tavern, you were quickly engulfed in the busy hustle and bustling of servers delivering rounds of glasses to rowdy tables and the hearty drunk laughter of flushed faces. 
‘Damn, it’s this crowded already.’ You felt your shoulders drop, ‘should I just pick up some wine on the way home then?’ Another sad weekend spent in your stuffy apartment, great. 
Just as you were about to turn on your heels, you spotted a familiar flash of blond hair. Was that Kaveh? You squinted your eyes to focus on that spot of blond through the wave of patrons. 
“HA! I’m telling you there is no way that shrewd man got his position without some sort of shady dealing. I bet he’s got some dirt on some higher-ups.” 
Yep, that was definitely Kaveh, you immediately recognized that dramatic shrill in his voice. You heard it many times during your college days together, increasingly so whenever he had an architecture final due. He was at a large table, there seemed to be plenty of room for one more person. Swiftly, you made your way through the crowd to tap the blond man on the shoulder, disrupting him mid-rant. 
“Kaveh? Oh my god, it is you. It’s been so long. How’ve you been?” You feigned surprise. 
“Oh? Oh!” His eyes lit up with recognition. “My college savior! How’ve you been? Come, sit down and drink with us!” 
Score, you’ve successfully secured a seat at the tavern. Thus, you avoided wallowing in self-pity alone on your beaten couch. You meet eyes with two unfamiliar faces, the trio seemed to have been setting up a game of cards before you joined, or before Kaveh began to rant about whatever he rants about. 
After a quick round of introductions and placing your order for a glass of sweet wine, you were quickly acclimated to their conversation. Tighnari was a part of the research and development team, while Cyno was the head of company security ensuring no classified information gets leaked to competitors. Kaveh, you already knew was the star of the architecture design department. 
It felt nice being able to relieve stress about redundant company policies and gossip, or at the very least it was entertaining to hear Kaveh whine nonstop about them. 
“Ah, I still just don’t understand how that man got the position of head secretary. I swear he has it out for me, he refused to process my request for approval because ‘it was outside of his working hours’ and because of that my project got delayed a whole week! There is no way he climbed the ranks with that work ethic!” 
You did not even have to ask who the subject of Kaveh’s dismay was, it was quite obvious to the 3 of you at the table. 
“Just because I can manage a healthy work-life balance, does not mean my work ethic is mediocre. My work hours are clearly posted outside of my office, it seems that literacy has decreased.” A husky voice rang out from just behind your chair. 
You felt a slight shiver run up your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps along its journey. He was here, the main antagonist in Kaveh’s rants has finally shown his face. 
“Oh, ‘Haitham? It’s rare to see you come out of your shell of books.” You looked over your shoulder at the towering man as he loosened his tie. Scooting a bit closer to Cyno, making more room for him to sit at the last seat. 
“It is a surprise to see you here as well, did Kaveh drag you out to play a game of cards… or perhaps did he want you to foot his tab.” Alhaitham gave the blond man a slight side-eye before returning his attention back to you. 
“Hey! I can hear you!”
“It was intentional, couldn’t you tell?” 
“You-”
You let out a light giggle from behind your wine glass, noticing the sliver-haired man’s eyes turning back towards you. 
“Did you want to sample a bit of the wine? It’s sweet.” You offered your glass to him, hoping he didn’t notice the slight shiver when his long fingers brushed against yours as he accepted it. You tried to keep your face as polite as possible, not allowing your eyes to wander down along his neck as he took a sip. 
“Not bad,” he placed your glass back down in front of you. “Boss, this is good wine. I would have the same, please.” He turned his large body slightly as he called out to the tavern owner. 
Allowing you to see just how well that button-down shirt fitted his form, the top button seemed to be holding on with all its strength. 
“I thought we were all grown enough to not be entertained by mindless gossip,” Alhaitham remarked towards the table. 
“Not at all, we were just curious about the raising star of the company,” Tighnari commented. 
“There’s nothing special to talk about, I just arrive and do the task I have to before I clock out.” 
“It’s a bit odd for a man that lacks ambition to land such a high role within a year.” Cyno followed up, his eyes holding a hint of suspicion. 
“ It’s really nothing complicated. I’ve even rejected some promotions, the work of a secretary is simple, that’s why I wish to keep things this way.” 
“Ah, he’s humble-bragging now.” You hear the tan man beside you mutter as he crossed his arms. 
You also couldn’t help but feel the sting of jealousy as well. While you were proud of your childhood friend having success in his carrier, he advanced much faster than you even though you got a two-year head start. 
“Ugh, how did you stand this egomaniac for so long.” Kaveh harshly set his glass down, directing the question at you. 
Seeing this as an opportunity to tone your childhood friend down a few, you couldn’t help the slight grin that spread across your face. 
“Well, he’s always been this way,” you swirled your glass, “I guess I just got used to it.” 
“Makes sense, attitudes like his tend to develop at tender ages.” Tighnari vouched. 
“He was so cute when he was younger. This man used to pull on my sleeve and beg me to read Aristotle to him.” You stole a quick glance over your wine glass. 
“Oh? You two go that far back?” Cyno inquired. 
You hummed in confirmation as you took another sip, “I guess it’s partially my fault for not correcting him back then. But he used to have the chubbiest cheeks, I couldn’t help but be swayed. Who would’ve known that once that cuteness faded, all that’s left is a mulish man.” 
You heard Alhaitham tsk in annoyance at your jabs, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. 
“Clinging onto the past will serve no benefit towards the future. Frankly, it’s a foolish thought.” 
You hid the sting in your heart with a teasing smile, hoping that it reached your eyes as well. He was right, the past was gone and over with, with little to no bearings on the future. The same stood with your relationship, childhood friends, and nothing more. 
Alhaitham had the looks, the stellar career, and was already a homeowner while being four years your junior. Even with your head start on life, it felt as if you were constantly behind him, trying to catch up. You knew one day he’ll leave you in the dust, so it is for the best that you let go of this one-sided crush. 
“Oh? Then I guess I’m released from that childhood pact then. How freeing.” You let out a slight laugh before taking a larger sip of your wine. You should probably order another glass, maybe two actually. 
The stoic man raised an eyebrow at your statement, “and what do you mean by that.”
“Aw, it looks like little ‘Haitham forgot,” you pouted. However, you could not let this opportunity to tease him slip away. 
Setting down your glass, you turned to face everyone gesturing a hand toward Alhaitham. “You see, when we were still children. He walked up to me with a flower and asked me to marry him when we grew up.” 
Instantly piquing the attention of everyone at the table. 
“Pfft, there’s no way that happened.” Kaveh let out a hearty laugh, waving his hand as if dismissing that notion. 
“Best believe it, he ignored me for a week when I told him no. Only ‘forgiving’ me after I gave him extra sweets and promised to think about it again in the future.” You supported your face with one hand. 
“So I guess you are to blame for his apatheticness? Traumatizing him so young? I’m starting to sympathize with you, Alhaitham” Tighnari scoffed. 
“Well, I apologize for my shallow taste when I was a child. I used to dream of being carried off into the sunset in a white dress by my groom.” You dramatically sighed. 
You mockingly patted Alhaitham’s arm, feeling the solid muscle hidden beneath the fabric tense up then relax at your sudden skinship. 
“Before he became an absolute tree, this guy used to be half my size and weight. Which is why I rejected him back then, I didn’t want to crush my groom to death at our wedding.” 
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Just what were your intentions when you brought up that childhood memory? Alhaitham was racking his mind, trying to pinpoint a motive, too distracted to be bothered by the snickering that permeated throughout the table. 
Your hand, which still lingered on his arm, brought pulses of heat along his skin, the hair at the nape of his neck pricking up from the sensation. 
“On the topic of marriage, have you gotten any luck so far? Found anyone special yet?” Kaveh tucked his hands under his chin, as he rested his elbows on the crowded table. 
“Ugh, Kaveh, stop you sound like my fucking mother.” You brought your hand up to your temple. Alhaitham’s skin immediately craved your touch again. 
“I’m taking that as a ‘no’ then.”
“Obviously, gosh, every time I go to visit my parents it turns into an interrogation of why I didn’t come back with a ring on my finger.” You took another swig of your wine. 
“Is that so?” Kaveh prodded, wanting the conversation to continue. 
“Honestly, at this rate, I won’t be marrying for love. I’ll be marrying to shut my parents up.” 
“Oh? And what would a husband candidate need? To be able to carry you off to the honeymoon?” 
“Har har har, Kaveh, very clever.” 
“Okay, now seriously.” 
“Well, obviously he needs to get along with my parents.” 
Just earlier this evening Alhaitham had responded to a message from your mother, telling him how thrilled they were to receive his housewarming gift basket. Your mother wishing that more young people were as considerate as he was towards his elders. 
“And I would prefer someone attentive.” 
Alhaitham did not even have to think when ordering coffee for you. A mocha with two shots of expresso, oat milk, and an extra drizzle of chocolate syrup. When it gets closer to the holidays, you liked to add one pump of peppermint syrup.
He also takes note of how your words tend to get more graphic once there's alcohol in your veins. 
“What about income, you want a man with 6 figures? 7?” 
“Ha, if my husband made 7 figures I’d run him a warm bath with rose petals, the house will be spotless, and have dinner set on the table at 7 o’clock sharp. A girl can dream, it would also mean I won’t have to see that ugly bastard’s face again.”
Roses were nice. However, lavender was much better for baths to relax the muscles. After 3 years Alhaitham was confident that he could renegotiate his salary. He knew that your organization skills violently oscillates between an absolute disaster to professional house cleaning service depending on how stressed you were. Your cooking though was always guaranteed to be delectable, 7 pm just so happened to be his preferred time for dinner. 
Pause, wait a moment-
“Huh? Is your manager still bothering you? Isn’t he already married? What a sleazebag.” 
“Tell me about it,” you were rubbing your temples more aggressively. “I’ve thought about staking my pen through his hand if he tried to place it on my shoulder again.” 
“Would you like me to file a report to HR?” Cyno looked over at you with concern and sincerity. 
“Thank you, but I’ve already tried. They said until there was hard evidence of such behavior they can’t move on with an investigation.”
“Ugh, it’s always HR protecting the top dogs once again. Seriously, I’m not even from the same department but even I can feel that slimy gaze of his whenever he looks at you. Makes me want to burn my skin off in the shower, how you withstand that is beyond me.” Kaveh, rested one over his chair, dramatically making a face to show his disgust. 
Your manager, yes, it’s been noted on several performance reports that his productivity has been on the decline. Perhaps, an additional report from Alhaitham about the suspicious disappearance of funds under your manager’s supervision would warrant a full-scale investigation. 
That fool had his wife listed as his emergency contact, the ashen-haired man wondered if he would detail her husband’s harassment of young women in his department to her. 
“Let’s move on to a different subject, shall we? I’d be damned if my Friday night is ruined by thoughts of that man.” You rubbed your thumb along the stem of your glass, a nervous habit of yours he noted. 
And with that, the drinking continued to pour, as Cyno and Kaveh began a round of cards. If you weren’t so distracted by Kaveh’s theatrical whines of how Cyno should take an easy on him, you would’ve seen the look that promised no good on Alhaitham’s face. Its true intentions are well hidden behind a stoic face. 
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“You would think he would have learned his limit by now.” Alhaitham couldn’t help but scoff at his housemate. 
The blond was absolutely hammered, slurring his words as if they were some encrypted message. Upon seeing the state that Kaveh was in, everyone unanimously agreed to call it a night. Cyno and Tighnari supported him as Alhaitham went to the edge of a sidewalk to hail a cab. 
“Are you not going to ride in the same taxi as Kaveh? You’re both going to the same destination no?” You inquired, looking up at him after he gave the directions to his house and cash for the trip. 
“And what, get puked on during the ride? Kaveh is a big boy now, I’m sure he’ll manage. Besides…” His teal eyes quickly trailed up your legs.
Your stockings accentuating the shape of your legs as they beckoned his attention towards that pencil skirt with a cheeky leg slit. Not revealing enough to be chastised as unprofessional, but oh so tempting. 
“It’s more important that I see you get home safely. Now, come.” He turned his back towards you, heading in the direction of your apartment. Not wanting to be caught staring at you. 
Throughout the walk the two of you were silent, but it was a calm silence that can only develop from a place of comfort and familiarity. The clicking of your heels and the taps of his dress shoes filled the air between you and him like a metronome. Alhaitham made sure to remind himself to match his pace with yours, lest his longer legs pull him far ahead of you. 
--
Finally arriving at the entrance of your apartment complex, you swiped your keycard to unlock the heavy security door. Perhaps it was because of the alcohol in your system but it took all of your body weight to pry the metal door ajar. You felt a small hand on your back, stopping your pitiful attempt. 
“You’re going to strain your back, here, allow me.” Alhaitham’s voice was so close to your ear that you sore the vibrations tickled it. 
Stepping aside, you allowed Alhaitham to grasp onto the side of the door as he swung the door open as if it weighed nothing. He took hold of the handle, meeting your eyes as he gestured you to enter. You felt a bit stupid for struggling so much with the door in front of him, so you quickly shuffled inside as he followed right behind you. Strolling through the lobby you finally arrived at the shiny doors of the elevator. 
“Well, I guess this is goodnight.” You looked up at Alhaitham as you pressed the call button. 
You heard the ding of the elevator arriving… only for the doors to not open.
 You pressed the button again, it dinged again, and again… then the light of the elevator flickered out. Great, just your luck, the elevator decided to break down now of all times. Further embarrassing you in front of Alhaitham. Even though his face remains stoic as ever, he probably thinks your place is shabby. 
“Ha ha, what a way to end a night. I guess I’ll be taking the stairs… You should call a cab to get back now.” You cringed a bit on the inside, why did you sound so awkward? 
The stairwell door creaked open with all the grace of nails dragging down a chalkboard, the noise almost causing a headache to form as you begin your ascension up the gray stairs. 
Only for your 6 flight journey to be halted at the second step as you stumbled. Once again, those new heels you were so excited to wear decided to rear their nasty face. Luckily, you were able to catch yourself on the solid hand railing. Sighing to yourself, you prepared to clutch onto it like a lifeline for the rest of your trek. 
Suddenly your body felt weightless as two solid arms hoisted you up, and you felt your figure way too close to a warm, built frame. 
“W-what are you doing??” Your hands were flailing as you did not know where to place them. 
“Quiet, it’s past midnight and your voice is bouncing off the walls. Do you want a noise complaint?”
“That wasn’t my question! Haitham put me down I can walk!!”
“Oh really? Did you seriously not notice how many times you’ve been tripping and stumbling on your way back? It’s safer for me to just carry you, unless you prefer tumbling down the stairs.” 
“N-no! I-” 
Alhaitham seems to be ignoring your plight as your slaps on his shoulder and arms elicited no reaction. His firm grip on your body did not let up as he effortlessly ascended the stairs, even shifting your weight a bit when he went to open the door to your floor. 
You were stone-cold sober at this point but your face was hot and flushed when Alhaitham finally placed you back down on your own feet at your apartment door. 
You couldn’t muster up the courage to thank him let alone even look at him, in case he sees the obvious red tint on your cheeks. Keys fumbling in your hands as you tried to line it with the keyhole, a small click and turn of the brass knob has your apartment ajar. 
What do you do now? Is this the final goodbye for tonight? Should you take a cold shower to purge these overwhelming emotions? 
“Um… would you like to come inside for a glass of water?” You spoke those words before you could think it through. Great, you just prolonged your suffering, great job. 
“Sure.” And much to your dismay Alhaitham agreed. 
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His teal eyes lazily observed the plush throw pillows on your sofa along with the soft blanket hastily thrown over the back of it. Alhaitham could hear you bustling in the kitchen as you prepared a glass of ice water for him. 
In stark contrast to his own walls, yours was crowded with many photos like a timeline of your life. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he observed a photo strip taped onto the side of your college graduation portrait.
It was a cheap strip of laminated plastic from some mall photo booth, but your smile was radiant as you had one hand squeezing his face trying to get the stone-faced boy to crack a smile. 
“Here, it’s on the house.” You clinked the frosty glass onto the coaster in front of him. 
He felt the sofa dip a bit more as you plopped your body on the other side, letting out a content sigh, probably finally being able to feel your feet again. He knew those heels caused you great discomfort, but he almost wished for another glimpse. 
“Thank you.” 
Once more a comfortable silence encased the air between the two of you. Somewhere along the line, your hand found its way to his gray locks, gently running your fingers along his scalp. 
“What shampoo do you use, ‘Haitham? Your hair is always so soft and voluminous. I’m kinda jealous.” He heard the amused quip in your voice. 
He both yearned and despised whenever you pet his head. As your fingers continued to rake through his ash hair he couldn’t help the rush of blood that flowed south. Yet, a pang of annoyance was felt in his chest. ‘You still thought of him as a kid’ was the message he decrypted from your actions. 
“Whichever brand is closest to me at the store. Or whichever bottles Kaveh left in the shower.” Alhaitham leaned a bit more into your touch.
“Tsk, of course.” He could hear the smile in your voice. 
There was no end benefit to be gained from his feelings towards you. In fact, his life would’ve been so much easier if only his brain didn’t release dopamine the moment he hears the slightest mention of you. 
As a person who prides himself on his objectivity and factuality, he could not explain why you were an outlier that skews his rationality. 
The peaceful moment was shattered by the sudden pierce of your ringtone, the name that flashed across the screen caused Alhaitham’s eyes to narrow. 
Manager Kimiya
The manager who has been the source of your frustrations, evident by your conversation back at the bar. Why was he calling you this late? Alhaitham observed the grimace on your face as you quickly retracted your hand from his hair, picking up the phone as you excused yourself back to the kitchen. 
Why were you answering his call? 
You were speaking in a rather hushed voice, even with Alhaitham straining his ears to try and hear just what was so important to warrant a phone call so late at night. 
“Yes, of course…. No… I see… okay… yes… I understand… yes, goodnight to you as well.” 
Before Alhaitham could stop himself, he found his form behind yours at the kitchen counter as you finally ended your call. Frown present at the corners of your lips. 
“Why did he contact you this late?” 
Your body flinched in surprise. Ah, so you did not even notice his presence behind you. As his teal eyes stared down at your smaller frame, he could feel the clawing of a green-eyed monster tugging against the restraints Alhaitham so carefully bounded it in. 
“No reason, just work stuff… mostly.” 
Mostly? Alhaitham pushed down at the monster, trying to bottle the disgusting foreboding envy. 
“Why did you answer?” 
“I just told you, Haitham. It’s for work.” 
Alhaitham’s teeth ground against each other as he clenched his jaw. The monster was thrashing around violently. 
“You didn’t have to answer.” 
Your eyes closed in annoyance as you opened your mouth, a snarky reply ready to be thrown his way. Only for it to be stuck on the tip of your tongue as Alhaitham’s arms grasped the counter at either side of you. Pinning you between the cold granite top and his towering frame. 
“Are you interested in him?” There was a dangerous edge to his low voice. 
“Did you have too much to drink?” You whipped around in disbelief, annoyance dripping from your tone. 
Your face was very close to his, nose almost touching, breaths brushing against each other’s lips. 
“Answer the question.” His voice deepened further, a dark glaze over his eyes. 
“I don’t.” You narrowed your eyes at him, inching your face closer as if to prove a point. 
Alhaitham’s restraint of the beast began to slip. He needed a moment to grasp back onto it, to regain control. No, he could not wait any more, not one second longer.
 It was as if all the past decade's worth of pinning that kept him up at night came rushing out. Bursting through the walls that Alhaitham spent years building to contain them. 
It all rushed out in a messy, heated, and disgusting wave that washed over him and drowned his rationality as he slammed his lips into yours. Capturing the soft flesh into an all-consuming kiss. It was ugly, yet it felt so beautiful. So all consumingly beautiful. 
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Your brain was trying its best to regain itself as you recovered from the whiplash, you were kissing Alhaitham. His larger frame pushes your body up against the kitchen counter, cold stone pressing up against your burning skin. His tongue brushed against your lips hungrily, asking out of courtesy for permission. Your lips parted, allowing him access as your fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck. 
It was almost animalistic the way he devoured the air from your lungs, your head began to float as pleasure trailed up your spine. You harshly tugged at his ashen hair to break the near-airtight lock your lips were tangled in. 
Barely getting two much-needed breaths in as your eyes connected with lustful teal before lips clashed once more. You tasted the sweet wine that still lingered on his tongue, the sweet taste of crossing a dangerous line. 
Alhaitham released your lips then dived back into trail kisses from your glistening lips to down your face and neck. A pleased whimper escaped as you titled your head to the side, allowing him more access to your sensitive spots. 
You now had two arms thrown around his neck, back arching as his large hands began to rub your thigh over the thin fabric of your stockings. The heat from his palms and the friction creeping up to your core. You felt the suction of his mouth against your neck causing you to press your chest more into his as you whined. 
Two hands firmly gripped onto each of your legs then harshly parted them, allowing for Alhaitham’s solid torso to press up against your pulsing core. You couldn’t help the slight roll of your hips against his abs, your poor cunt begging for a crumb of attention.
The air was too hot, tension too thick, Your skirt now all bunched up as his fingers skillfully unbuttoned your shirt. You replicated his actions as you clumsily groped at his chest to locate the buttons of the dress shirt, your senses graced by the plushness of his pectorals. 
It was animalistic the way Alhaitham was claiming your skin with his kisses, every now and then marking the tender flesh of your breast and neck. ‘Fuck, how can simple kisses feel so good’ was the thought running through your hazy mind, pressing his head more against you. A hardness making itself known against your neglected wetness. Excitement spiking up inside you. 
“Wrap your legs around me.” He commanded. 
You obediently did so, locking your ankles together behind his back, intentionally rubbing your cunt against his trapped erection. Alhaitham straightened his posture as he scooted your bottom off the counter, large hands digging into the flesh of your ass then firmly squashing your core against hardness. 
The sudden movement causes you to let out a gasp. He shot you a look, warning that he did not have the patience to be teased. 
Effortlessly he carried you into the bedroom, kisses still desperately being exchanged the entire time. Tossing you onto your messy sheets, he took a moment to admire how absolutely wrecked you looked. Cheeks flushed red, lips glossy from mixed saliva, eyes teary yet burning with desire. If you looked like this from simple kisses, he couldn’t wait for what you’d look like during the main event.
With you now on your back, more vulnerable, it gave him the opportunity to finally strip the blouse off your body, exposing more of your skin. Feeling a tug at his shirt. 
“You too…” 
When you asked so shyly with those pouty lips, how could Alhaitham refuse? A silent game began, as for every piece of clothing one shed, the other would follow. Your bra, his belt, your skirt, and his slacks were now littered across your floor. Hands greedily groping at each other's flesh, a large hand cupping your breast as your hand dipped to rub his bulge through his boxers. 
“Excited?” Your confidence was boosted when you felt a small wet patch on the fabric. 
“You’re one to talk.” He scoffed. 
Hand releasing your breast to grope the contour of your pussy through your ruined panties. Harshly pressing against your eager clit, a moan tumbled out of your mouth. Alhaitham dropped his head right next to yours, baritone voice against your ear,
“See, you even soaked through your stockings. Just how wet are you?” 
Long fingers began to trace along the slit of your cunt, lazily rubbing a circle on your clit before tracing back down. Your legs wanted to clamp down on his cruel hand but with his body pinning you down it was impossible. The message was clear, you were at his mercy. 
“What do you want?” 
A simple question he asked you, but your pride would not let you answer. That bastard knows what you want, your cunt was practically sobbing for something to be buried deep in it. But he still continued his slow, torturous movement, eyes locked on your expression. You faced away from him, unable to handle the intense glaze on your flushed face. 
“Eyes on me.” His other hand squished your cheeks as he turned your face back. 
Teal and orange eyes piercing into yours, you wanted to protest, he was being so mean. His perfect face only had a slight flush, while you were certain yours was a mess. Alhaitham must have sensed this as he nudged his thumb into your mouth, letting it rest against your pink tongue. 
“Come now, use your words. What do you want?” 
Pride be damned, the burning sensation between your legs overtook your reasoning as his other hand was now harshly circling your sensitive bud. 
“Y-you.” You moaned around his thumb. 
A smug look was now plastered on his handsome face, you weren’t sure if you wanted to slap it or pull him into another kiss. 
“Good girl.” Looping his fingers into the waistband of your stockings, harshly tugging them down the length of your legs. 
He definitely ripped them, but your brain was too busy processing the words he just called. 
Shifting your body more onto the bed, he pried your legs open, giving him a direct view of your drenched panties. Snapping back into reality and suddenly now worried about your modesty you reached a hand down as if to shield your desire from his observant eyes. A quick slap to your hand echoed through the room. 
“It’s a bit late to be embarrassed now.” The same hand pushed the ruined fabric to the side before a long, thick finger was thrusted inside. 
Your head jerked back at the sudden intrusion, barely being able to bite back a moan. Your aching cunt now had a taste of what it craved so desperately, but now it only craved more. Something thicker, longer, heavier. It wanted more even as Alhaitham slipped another finger in with minimal resistance. Scissoring the digits inside of you, exploring deep inside as slick drooled out. 
You tried to suppress your moans by biting down on the thumb that still lingered in your mouth. He sucked a breath through his teeth at your actions. 
“Be nice.” He ordered, tearing his thumb out of your mouth at the same time as his fingers from your cunt. 
His two fingers coated in your juices were then shoved into your gaping mouth, giving you a taste of yourself. Wordlessly you maneuvered your tongue against his fingers, cleaning the slick from the thick digits. His cock twitched when he felt you welcome his fingers deeper into the gummy walls of your mouth.
Alhaitham wanted to play with you more, to tease your clit and pussy until it was swollen and soaking the sheets below. However, right now, he did not have the patience as the length in his boxers raged angrily. Perhaps, if his plan goes well he can save that desire for another time. 
He chuckled to himself, this is what you do to him, you turn him into a man so consumed by lust he would not even stretch you out with good foreplay. Your cunt felt wet enough, he could see how drops of slickness were trailing onto the sheets, you were ready for him. Finally releasing his member out of its confinement, he let out a small hiss that the feeling of his sensitive head rubbing along your slick folds. 
“Wait,” you got up on your elbow as another hand pressed against his toro, halting his movement. 
You swiftly reached over to your nightstand, digging through to find the box of condoms. You took a foil package out, turning back to Alhaitham you handed it to him. You did your best not to look at his member, but it was hard to when it was just that intimidating. On lonely nights, there were times you imagined what that tall, buff body hid beneath the layers. 
‘Would the condom even go over it?’ you wondered as Alhaitham stiffly ripped open the foil. Fortunately, the condom was able to encase his length, you patted yourself on the back for getting the variety pack. 
“Heh,” Alhaitham’s hands grasped the sides of your hips. “You were prepared.” 
It could’ve been your imagination, but his calm tone felt forced. Almost as if he was angry, but Alhaitham never got angry at you. 
“What’s the ma- AH!”
The concern died in your throat when the entirety of his length was thrusted into you. Your cunt clenching around him, not wanting to let go of the deep satisfaction of finally being full. Alhaitham let a quiet moan through his clenched teeth, pulling out halfway then snapping his hips back into yours.
Your hands desperately latched onto your sheets, twisting and pulling the fabric to try and ground yourself. The stretch had you stumbling over your words, never had you felt this full.  He felt so heavy inside of you, deliciously dragging against your quivering walls.  
Alhaitham followed the intrusion with a few slow thrusts, the squelch of your cunt welcoming his length sounded through the heavy air. The grip on your hips turned unyielding as his pace shifted, his hips settling on a punishing pace against your poor masochistic cunt. Moans leaving your lips without regard for your neighbors. 
“Were you expecting this tonight?” He ended his sentence with an especially deep thrust. 
You barely heard him over the wet slapping of skin, mind focused on how good it felt when his tip rammed into that one spot. Alhaitham noticed how your cunt contracted when he hit a particular place, quickly angling his hips to strike your weakness again, then again, and again. Each time he did you would let out a cry, tongue lulling out of your mouth. At this point, his fingers are for sure leaving purple marks. 
“Is that why you were at the bar?” He continued. 
The green-eyed monster clawed its way up inside him, if he had not gone to the bar earlier by chance, would you have shown this sinful face to someone else?
A voice at the back of his mind called for him to take you lovingly, to slow his pace, to caress your face with his hands and kisses. But the voice of the beast whispered in his ear to ruin you, use you to further his own pleasure, to pound the shape of his length into you. Yes, perhaps if he did that then no other man could ever satisfy you. 
“So, who did you plan to take home?” 
He thrusted his tip deeper, you swore it was hitting your cervix now. Breast bouncing along with his violent pace. A thumb dug into your swollen clit suddenly causing you to throw your head back as your mind came dangerously close to the edge of sanity. A delicious tension begins to form in your core.
“Answer. The. Question.” Each word was followed by a harsh thrust, as your bud was pinched between his two fingers. 
“Ah- ah!” Was the only reply you could muster. 
Alhaitham stilled his motion deep inside of you, heavy, thick member resting right up against your cervix. Fingers now cruelly rolling your abused clit in its grasp, making your toes curl and back arch. 
He could feel your walls convulsing around him, begging for more of his punishing thrusts, not wanting the tension to dissipate. But he didn’t want to give that to you, not until you give him what he wanted. 
“Who. Who are you thinking of? Are you imagining being pinned down like this by them?” 
Your lust-hazed eyes looked into his with confusion, brain barely able to string together a coherent thought to process his question. As if he asked you the most elaborate philosophical question. 
Even with your mind nearly liquefied by the heat of pleasure and vision blurred from tears, the self-loathing in his eyes was obvious. Releasing the sheets from your iron grip, you cupped his face as you pulled him into a soft kiss. The first of the night. 
“Y-you ah!” You moaned against his lips. 
His hand stilled for a moment, then quickly regained its pace rolling the bundle of nerves. His lips chased after yours, shallowing your moans as he pinned your body more into the mattress. 
“Say it, confirm it.” A trail connecting your lips as he pulled away. 
“Alh-ah! Alhaitham!” 
A switch was flipped as his hips sprang back into motion, the push and pull rocking the bed as your hands found refuge on his broad shoulders. The tension only grew in your core with every blow against your weak spot in tandem with the circles he was grinding into your bud. 
“Alhaitham! A-ah Alhai-yes, right there!” Shamelessly moaning out his name like you did on those desperate nights with your own fingers. 
Your toes were curling painfully from the pleasure currently engulfing your entire body, your cunt full and hair a mess. Arching your body more into his solid figure as his unforgiving pace continued to abuse your grateful walls.
The wet slooshing of your slick as your hole welcomed his member over and over again no longer embarrassed. You were growing close, the ball of tension in your core was so close to snapping, you wanted sweet release so badly. 
“P-please! Ah! Please!” You begged for him to let you fall into cloud nine. 
Quickly understanding your plead, Alhaitham continued his the motion of his hips, making sure to strike that spot with more force as his thumb rubbed your clit faster. He dipped his head down to kiss along the edge of your tear stained face. The sensation of his teeth sinking into your neck was the catalysis that finally pushed you off the edge. 
Your body pressed itself taught against his, walls clamping down like a vise around his member as the orgasm ripped through your body. Strangled moans against his ears as your vision turned white. 
He removed his thumb from your clit, now even redder and swollen, as he bit more into your neck, the sensation of your walls trying to milk him dry almost brought him over as well. However, he couldn’t let it end so fast, not when he had fantasized about this moment for years. 
He forced himself to drag himself out against the tight grip of your walls, then used his body weight to thrust back into you to continue with his rhythm. He felt his own release approaching as he stared at how your eyes were rolled to the back of your head. 
‘Would you notice if I were to rip the condom off?’ He wondered as you were still on cloud nine, but your body still responding to his moves. 
‘Would you even care? Would you want it too?’ The thought of painting your walls in white and watching as your cunt drank up his thick cum filled him with a dark desire. 
He wanted to fill you with his essence, to claim you as fully his from the inside out, to steep into every fiber of your being. His hands found purchase on your hips again as he pinned your frame below him, thrusting deeper than he had ever before into you as he spilled himself into the latex.
His body shook against yours as he panted from the exertion. 
The creaking of the bed stopped as Alhaitham pulled back to press sweet kisses to your temple, coaxing your consciousness back to reality. Using his fingers to wipe away the tears that still leaked from your eyes, as your pupils came back into view. Returning from their trip at the back of your head. There was a moment of stillness, as pants echoed through the air, breaths overlapping and caressing another. 
You felt him shift, pulling his length fully out from your gummy walls. Your cunt clentched at the sudden emptiness. You watched as he grabbed a few tissues from your night stand, then proceeded to roll the filled condom off, disposing it into the paper. 
You shut your eyes, chest still heaving at the exertion you had just put your body through. 
The sound of condoms shaking against their cardboard box made your eyes snap back open. As you watched the ashen haired man shamelessly pull another foil package out of the container. 
Oh… The night was still young. 
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--
The bright and pitched chirping of the birds outside stirred you from your slumber. Oh god, your hips were so sore, you questioned whether or not you would make it out of bed. 
Two arms firmly encompassed your waist, pressing your back against the warm source of the pain in your hip. 
As much as you hated to admit it, Alhaitham looked angelic when he was asleep. Usual stone face now relaxed and soft, the sunlight drawing blurred shapes along his skin and hair through your curtains. 
You wanted to brush the hair out of his peaceful face, fingers reaching out then freezing as the reality of last night hit you. 
You two had crossed the bold line that was drawn in the sand, now standing the cold ocean of the unknown. The questions of what your relationship had turned into violently crashed into you like unforgiving waves as you feel yourself beginning to drown in self-doubt. 
Was this a one-time thing? A closeness you will never experience with him ever again? Was this the final chapter of the story of you and Alhaitham? Did you ruin years of trust and friendship?
 The questions began to become overwhelming, you needed to get up, to just get somewhere to clear your mind. 
Slowly your tried to shimmy yourself out of his firm hold, carefully trying not to rouse him from his slumber. Only for your plan to come crashing down as his arms tightened around you, halting your motion. 
“Stay.” An uncharacteristic softness present in his tone. 
You stilled your body, heart pounding so hard against your chest you were certain Alhaitham could feel it too. Just like how you could feel the rhythmic beating of his against your back. 
His deep breaths brushed against your neck as he buried his face into the crook. Tension now hung in the air, but who was going to be the first to break it? Mustering up all the courage you could gather, 
“Alhaith-”
“I found you a nuisance when I was first introduced to you.” He began. 
You felt your heart sink at his confession, but he continued. 
“The way you dragged me out to play, fed me snacks, and especially when you pet my head. I found it all annoying… It was annoying because it would cause me heart palpitations, my breath would hitch, and my face would flush. I thought I had caught a sickness from you, a sickness that made me addicted to your presence.” 
Your heart was now jumping as if it wanted to burst from your chest, he buried his face deeper into your neck. 
“Then one day I read a book that detailed my exact symptoms. Do you know what the diagnosis was? Love - an intense, deep affection for another person. That day when I proposed with that small weed, I discovered that I was in love with you.” 
You froze, almost not believing your own ears. 
“Well of course back then I did not meet your qualifications. I hoped that the sickness would disappear. No actually, I used to pray to gods I don’t believe in that they would take you out of my head, where you always seemed to haunt . They must have cursed me because as time moved on, my illness just got worse. It began to border on mania, madness. So, please listen.” 
He turned your body in his arms so that you were staring right into his eyes, a hopeful and sincere glimmer present in the saturated teal.  
“I love you, I adore you, I wish to wake up every morning to you in my arms just like this. I want to walk through life hand in hand with you. Your parents hold me in high regard. I will get a mocha with two shots of expresso, oat milk, and extra chocolate syrup every morning for you, I can even learn to make it. If you are worried about finances, if this company doesn’t agree to my raise by the end of two years I will search for another position that will.” 
His fingers intertwined with yours as he brought your knuckles up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. 
“And I am confident in my ability to carry you no matter what wedding dress you dawn. So do I meet your qualifications now?” 
His teal eyes looked into yours, yearning for your answer. Your eyes were wide and lips frozen. You were waiting to wake up in your messy sheets alone, fully clothed, and for the other side of the bed to be cold. This had to be a dream, this couldn’t be real. 
However, the hot tears that clouded your vision and dripped down your cheeks felt too real to be an illusion. The look of adoration in his eyes was too genuine to be conjured up by your pitiful imagination. 
“Could we… Could we take this slowly?” You whispered, squeezing his hands. 
“Of course. I’ve waited for over sixteen years, I can wait a little longer.” 
You buried your flushed face into his chest, he let your wet tears soak into his skin as he kissed the crown of your head. Embracing each other as if the other could disappear.
“I love you too.” 
--
Fin~
DON’T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ON DIFFERENT PLATFORMS.
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diremoone · 1 year
Text
“make me (yours).” | r. sukuna
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w — [ minors do not interact ] modern! AU, hints of sugar daddy vibes ;), older man/younger woman, age gap, everyone is above 20+ and legal age, male masturbation, Sukuna imagining seggs positions and shit like that, Sukuna is around 36 & Reader is around 22/23, tbh sukuna being a comfort character rn. jjk after 235? it’s non-canon lmao
a/n: this is the most I’ve ever written that’s sinful I’m not used to this (it’s been so damn long since i have written anything remotely sinful omfg) and it’s not even that much I’m so embarrassed y’all HELP— also part two depends on you guys and any ideas you want to send in through my ask box :3
part one | part two
[ first divider by @/benkeibear, the second by @/cafekitsune ]
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♥️ Rich! Sukuna who meets you through his younger brother, who’s a few years older than you. You’ve been in Japan for a few years now, that much he knows, attending the same school his little brother got into. And now he’s determined to find out everything about you.
♥️ Rich! Sukuna who’s so fucking glad you can speak Japanese. He knows English, yes, but he prefers it when you speak his native tongue, because he fucking loves your accent and gets off on it. It’s exotic — you’re exotic — and he can’t help the temptation of wanting you and more.
♥️ Rich! Sukuna who knows to keep his smug smirk into himself when his little brother finally mans up and finally introduces you to him one day when he comes home to work on a project that you’re helping him with. And he knows that Yuuji knows about the look on his face. Because he knows his history with women. Yuuji knows he’s made a mistake introducing you to each other.
Or so he thinks.
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Sukuna is thoroughly amused by you, although there are times where he becomes frustrated. You’re not an easy case to crack, and not easy to tease and rile up. Perhaps that’s the part of you that’s from accelerated maturity.
You’re smarter than the average person, even the people slightly above average. You’re intellectually and psychologically challenging and he very much likes it. It’s been a long time since he’s had the kind of stimulation you’ve brought him. Since his and Yuuji’s father passed away.
He watches from a distance as you and his brother go over notes and work and crack jokes that put a pretty smile on your face. He can’t hear your laughter from where he stands, but he’s positive it’s as lovely as your smile.
As for you, you know you’re being watched. You look to the tall man out of your peripheral vision and halt rolling your eyes.
“Your brother is never subtle, is he?”
Yuuji sighs heavily. “Never.”
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♥️ Rich! Sukuna who hates the fact he can’t see you more often. So he digs and digs and then finds out about some old family debts and a couple things for medical expenses he can easily pay off to hold over your head, to use as a means to be something akin to a sugar daddy so he can order you around and see you whenever he wants to.
And it comes as no surprise to him when he mentions it the next time his brother brings you over for schoolwork that you’re startled by him finding out. He only mentions it after Yuuji has fallen asleep on the couch. You give him the wide-eyed expression of shock, probably wondering how he found out about it.
But unlike his expectations, you don’t ask how he knows. you don’t get embarrassed and try to hush it away with the option of using yourself as his favor. You shrug, going a little more into depth and detail about the financial struggle that’s been kept under wraps for several good years.
Sukuna himself is surprised in return, by both you and the way he sits down for you — to listen to you.
♥️ Rich! Sukuna, who finds out that even though you see him as super attractive, you’re not as swayed by his flirting and all of his advances like many women and young women your age are. Yes, you know he’s super fucking stupidly hot, and yes you’ve more than likely thought about certain things while in bed under the sheets, but you’ve got more important things to prioritize than hot men. Which he applauds you for just as much as he despises it. It makes him frustrated, because he’s attracted to you and wants you in his bed so bad; because it should be so fucking easy like it has been with other women. But you’re not the same, and while his lust is as prominent as ever in his older age, he also has the desire for something more than just a fling.
♥️ Rich! Sukuna who manages to get ahold of your schedule through his baby brother (who’s prepping for your broken heart) and asks you out, setting up a date for when he knows you’re free. He much enjoys the look on your face when he brings up the date he’s set, knowing you’re wondering about how he managed to nail the exact day you’re free for the day he’s set for the outing. He enjoys it even further when you quickly deduce how he knows about it.
Goddamn, he loves a sharp woman.
♥️ Rich! Sukuna, who orders you a dress to be made that’s a mix of beautiful deep crimson and black, one that shines but doesn’t shine too much to glare at people eyes. He drums his fingers against his desk in his home office as he sees the notification pop up on his phone that the item has been delivered.
But as usual, you surprise him. You don’t end up wearing the dress he’s made, but something completely different. You arrive to the restaurant he’s bought out for the night in a deep silver-gray tux, hair styled in a simple manner with minimal makeup that he knows you don’t need because he’s already seen and fallen for your natural looks anyway.
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Sukuna hates you. He doesn’t, but he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with the feelings he has. You’re so much younger than him, but holy fuck has it been so long since he’s been given any sort of challenge or stimuli, especially from a woman. He both hates and is glad you’re not easy. And it only fuels his drive to get you to give yourself to him.
You drive him up a damn wall.
He’s been in the shower for at least forty minutes, alternating between hot and cold every five minutes. Forty minutes and the painful hard on he’s had all morning still hasn’t gone away.
Sukuna leans his head forward against the wall and cusses at himself. His hand isn’t enough, but there’s some relief as he starts leisurely pumping his shaft. He cusses and swears worse than a sailor as he starts off slow, imagination running wild (at what could be).
He wants you so fucking bad. He wants you on your knees in front of him; on the soft carpet because no way is he going to let his pretty woman have sore knees while taking his monstrous dick down her throat.
He wants to bury his face between your legs and make you cum so much and so hard you see fucking galaxies, then let you catch your breath just barely enough before he uses your juices as lubricant and permanently molds your pussy to the shape of his fat cock.
He wants your legs over his shoulders as you throw your head back and moan as he fucks your better than anyone ever has and ever will. He wants to see a white ring around his cock as he pumps himself in and out of you like he’s a starved man. And that he is. For you, anyway.
Sukuna just knows your pussy is so fucking warm. He’ll bet his dick that you’ll have the tightest pussy he’s ever going to have. The best he’s ever going to have.
His hand pumps his shaft faster and faster, gripping it harder as he nears climax. His massive cock aches painfully, desperate to cum. Fucking hell… He wants you so bad, underneath him, or on your knees, calling him by whatever pet name or name from whatever kink you might have.
Forbid everything if you call him ‘Daddy’ or ‘Master’. Game fucking over.
He doesn’t even care if you have those kinds kinks or not. He just wants the pretty girl that’s done more than caught his attention under him as he makes her feel pleasure that only he can provide.
But the selfish part of him can’t help but hear you call out those names in his head. And that’s what does it.
Sukuna’s thighs and back muscles flex almost painfully as his balls draw up and cums. He tosses his head back, the feeling of his load spurting from the tip making him groan in pleasure. He cums so hard he feels like he’s about to keel over.
“Fuck yeah…” he pants, oxygen finally catching up to his lungs’ need.
But now he’s disappointed and just a little pissed off. Because the cum on the wall shouldn’t be there. It should be on or in you. And he doesn’t like that.
And as he rewashes himself, his jaw clenches, can’t help but thinking determinedly he’s going to change things between the two of you.
Come hell or high fucking water.
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♥️ Rich! Sukuna who’s finally shifted the relationship to being something else. Although you can’t tell what it is. The first date he takes you on is to break the ice, getting to know you better as a person. It’s also to see if you’d fuck him, but he knows you’ve got stronger convictions than the women he’s used to.
He takes you on a second date, this time in more casual clothes on a drive to a house he’s set up to have dinner and stargaze at.
He gets to tell you he’s paid off your family’s old debts now, relieved them of the medical bills and taxes that haven’t been paid yet. But it backfires, and now he’s left to make you understand that it wasn’t to make you feel beholden to him in any manner, like owing debt to the mafia.
♥️ Rich! Sukuna needs you to understand that despite how much he wants to fuck you, it’s more than just because he finds you attractive and wants to satisfy his dick. He wants you to know you’re not temporary; he doesn’t see you as a quick fix to his primal needs.
Not at all.
You’re the long term fix to his primal needs. And perhaps the only one he’s going to need ever again. And once the expression of understanding crosses your face, he goes to cradle the back of your head and hungrily slots his lips on yours. He may not get to take all your clothes off right now, but he’s happy with his results tonight.
Besides, he knows he’ll get you into his bed with a shiny diamond ring on your left hand eventually.
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wheeeew im gonna go take a cold bath
@vagabond-umlaut here’s ur man babe pls enjoy.
& everyone pls feel free to send in more ideas for this series if you want im having fun with this lmao
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