mechaknight-98 · 6 hours ago
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which Witch (NSFW) FT Arin and some “special guests”
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Operator’s Notes: A little something Special for Spooky Day and a pseudo part II to Confusion
When I get home from work I'm surprised to find Arin lying on my couch…nude. She hadn't been home in a few days so seeing her was as sweet as it was arousing.
She turns to me as I open the door before racing to hug me. She closes and locks the door behind me as she snakes her long arms and legs around me. She smiles.
“I have been waiting for you to come home for the past two hours!” she exclaimed
I felt my base urges surging within as my arousal grew. Arin smiles as her hands trace my body and they stop at my crotch. My rational mind becomes foggy so Arin takes the lead as she drags me into the bedroom. I remember a shirt and pants falling but am completely shaken when we stand naked before each other. She smiles at me as my erection stands proud of her. She guides me to the bed where she slinks down to my crotch. She smiles as her Lucious lips wrap around my manhood. She bobs up and down a couple of times before saying. I can’t wait to do all kinds of naughty things with you. She happily gulps down my cock as she moans
“Your dick always feels so good down my throat.” Arin groans in between gulps. I watch as she gags and gulps going just short of fucking face on my cock. Despite her ardor she’s neat in her technique. She goes deep on one deepthroat and moans as my cock rests in her throat.
Arin comes up for Air and aligns her bare pussy with my rod. She cups my face and says “fill me” she slowly sinks on my cock moaning as she takes each inch.
“Fuck I needed this. Next time, im taking you with me on my next modeling gig, and we’re gonna go at it every night.”
I smile and reply, “you’re an insatiable slut,” Arin smiles
“Only because you and your stupid cock made me like this,” as she began to ride me I noticed one of her eyes was a different color. Maybe it was a trick of the light that I quickly forgot about as she brought me in for a kiss. She smiled happily
“You taste sweeter than usual,” Arin purred. I smiled and said
“Well that’s because you’re home with me a night earlier than you said.”
Arin smiled as she rode me.
“Such a sweet talker. I wonder if you taste just as sweet.”
As she spoke she nibbled my earlobe
“Oh you do,” she said giddy. I smile as she rides me some more before her walls begin to tighten.
“Oh fuck!” she moans
“Fucking breed me. Make me your woman. Make me forget I was ever a man! Make my body submit to yours” Arin yells and it unlocks some crazy part of my brain, a savage part. I get up and lay her flat on the bed before grabbing her hips and rutting into her. Her soft tight walls drive me even further into this “fury” I had. Her pussy was mine. Molded to my cock made for me… it was a surreal experience. It felt as though something inside of me had been awakened by Arin. I continue to ravage her until we both cum and then we both pass out with me still buried in her wet snatch.
I wake up the next to moans I don't recognize and something riding me. It was Eunbi, one of Arin’s modeling friends. She smiles as she continues riding me. I freak out and yell,
“How did you get here?” Eunbi looks at me confused as she tilts her head in a way that Arin did.
“Babe you gave me a key remember now get back so we can finish what we started,” Eunbi said. I shook my head.
“No, I gave Arin a key I have no idea how you got one,”
Eunbi pouts as she stares at me then says “Babe you're scaring me.”
I stare back at her unfazed “Stop calling me babe Eunbi.”
“Eunbi?” Eunbi questioned as she got up and then walked knowingly to my bathroom. Her curvy figure is all the more enticing but I'm loyal to Arin. When Eunbi gets to the mirror all I hear is her yell “What the hell?”
She then races out to me and says, “Babe it's me Arin.” but Eunbi is now Arin’s other Modeling friend Jihyo. My brain breaks a little not gonna lie but as I watch her I notice one of her boobs shrinking and her eyes returning to their normal color as she returns back to “Arin” I take a moment to process then say.
“Um okay, this is weird and can't get any more weird.”
There's a knock on the door and Arin who's still naked has me go answer it while she gets some clothes on.
I open the door to see Arin’s mom of all people. A brisk knock still echoed through my apartment. Still half in disbelief over Arin’s appearance-changing episode that morning, I exchanged a look with her—now back in her own body, thankfully—before moving to answer the door.
Standing there was a woman whom I'd grown closer to more recently: Arin’s mother. She looked almost regal, with a composed expression and a slight sparkle in her eyes that felt oddly comforting and unnerving at the same time. The air around her seemed to hum with an energy he couldn’t quite place.
“Hello, Dio,” she said, her voice soft but commanding. “I’m here to see Arin. May I come in?”
I nodded and said, “Sure thing Arin’s mom,” she giggled at the title while she walked in. I stepped aside to let her in. Arin’s mother swept into the apartment, her gaze immediately falling on Arin, who sat curled up on the couch, a blanket around her shoulders as if she was still processing everything. Her mother’s face softened as she took in her daughter’s bewildered expression.
“Mom?” Arin asked, her voice a mixture of relief and confusion. “What’s going on with me? I looked like…like Eunbi this morning! And then Jihyo… Dio’s been freaking out!”
Her mother gave a gentle, understanding smile. “I’m not surprised. You had your awakening last night. This kind of power doesn’t appear out of nowhere; it’s part of your lineage.” She sat beside Arin, her presence grounding.
“My…lineage?” Arin echoed, eyes wide.
Her mother nodded, taking Arin’s hands in hers. “You come from a long line of sorceresses, my love. You’ve always had magic within you, but until your awakening, it was dormant. The transformations do you experience? That’s one of your gifts—an ability to shift appearances. It’s unique to our family, passed down through generations.”
I watched, still trying to absorb the surreal turn of events, but then I remembered how all of this started Arin was originally my roommate and best bro of 3 years. “So…this is normal?”
Arin’s mom laughed softly. “As normal as magic can be. It’s just new to you, Arin. But with practice, you’ll learn to control it, maybe even change into someone intentionally instead of by accident.”
Arin’s shoulders relaxed, a faint smile replacing her worry. “So, I’m… a sorceress?”
Her mother nodded, a look of pride in her eyes. “Yes. And there’s much more to your powers than this, Arin. I’m here to help you understand them and guide you through this new chapter. Dio,” she said, turning to me with a warm, knowing smile, “you’re welcome to learn as well. I have a feeling this journey will be easier with you by her side.”
I felt a spark of excitement mixed with the lingering disbelief. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
Arin’s mother smiled, then turned back to Arin, squeezing her hand gently. “Then let’s begin.”
As Arin’s mother began to speak, the room seemed to dim, as if the air around her absorbed the light, pulling all focus to her words.
“Our family’s magic is old, Arin. It’s woven into our history,” she explained, her voice low and calm. “Transformation is just the start. You’ll eventually learn enchantments, protection spells, and even how to channel energy. But you must understand…these powers aren’t only a gift—they come with responsibilities.”
Arin leaned forward, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Responsibilities?”
Her mother nodded. “Yes. Our family has always had a duty to protect and keep balance. We’re guardians of sorts, hidden in plain sight.” She glanced at me, her gaze warm but serious. “The people around us rarely know our true nature, but this seems like a special case. You'll have to learn to balance both worlds. That’s where your real strength lies.”
Arin swallowed, glancing nervously at me. “I—I mean, I didn’t sign up to be some kind of…magical guardian. What if I can’t handle this?”
Her mother placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “That’s what I’m here for. The power you awakened is part of you now, but you’re not alone. And with time, the transformations will become second nature.”
I sensed Arin was reaching her info dump limit, so I reached out and took her hand. “Hey, we’ll figure this out together. I’ve been freaked out a thousand times in the last day, but…if anyone can handle being a sorceress, it’s you.”
Arin’s mother smiled approvingly at my encouragement. “Good. Because there’s no turning back.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small, ancient-looking book, bound in dark leather and etched with symbols I couldn’t decipher (probably ancient Korean). “This was passed down from my mother, and her mother before her. It’s a guide to our magic and our family’s role.”
Arin accepted the book, running her fingers over its worn cover. “I had no idea,” she whispered, a mix of awe and determination settling in her eyes.
“Now,” her mother continued, “there’s one more thing I must show you. It’s important that you learn to manage your emotions—your magic is tied to them. If you’re not careful, strong feelings could lead to unintentional transformations…or worse.”
Arin took a deep breath, looking at me mischievously. “I think I need to learn as much as I can. Fast.”
I chuckled giving her hand a comforting squeeze. “I’ll be here every step of the way.”
Her mother rose, nodding approvingly at their resolve. “Then we’ll start with the basics, and I’ll teach you how to control what you feel, Arin. Because magic, without balance, can become a dangerous thing.” I noticed at this point Arin’s mom kept stealing these focused glances at me. I was unsure what they meant.
With that, she began their first lesson, and as Arin held the book in her lap, she felt the weight of both her powers—and her destiny—settle in her hands.
“So the first lesson is emotions drive magic. You unlocked transformations first so let's begin with that. Last night when you were with Dio, what did you feel?” Arin’s mom asked.
“Euphoria, Strength like I could take on the world and win,” Arin answered proudly.
Arin’s mother's smile turned to a knowing frown, “you're leaving something out,” she said curtly.
Arin blushed and looked at me, then said, “Desire. I hadn't seen my man in weeks…so I may have been overzealous in my ardor last night,” Arin looked at me as she emphasized Ardor and overzealous. Arin’s mom noticed.
“He’s changed you hasn't he?” Arin’s mom asked curious.
Arin nodded before saying, “It's just I have always felt so safe with him since we first met both emotionally and more recently physically.”
Arin’s mom laughed and said, “Well that makes sense. Look at him. I can practically feel the reliability radiating off of him, but you only transformed today why.”
Arin sighed as she answered embarrassed, “Dio makes me feel desired as well. When I woke up this morning his hands were wrapped up around me and my head went fuzzy.”Arin’s mom nodded then asked.
“Did you turn into someone you knew?” Arin nodded slowly then said.
“Yeah, my two modeling friends. They are like ridiculously attractive and dangerously feminine.”
“How did you feel?”
“Like a goddess. I felt like a goddess of fertility and femininity,”
Arin’s mom nodded and asked, “Well how do you feel now?”
“Safe” Arin answered. She looked at me again. “Secure “ she added. Arin’s mom smiled and then said
“Okay so here is your first lesson. Try feeling intense emotion today and try to stay you. Because the more you feel like you when you feel intense emotion the easier it will be to change shape. Dio, please help her with that little holding.” I squinted at her comment about “little godling” but couldn't respond because she left right after.
This addition is fantastic! You’ve deepened Arin’s connection with her powers, tying them directly to her feelings for Dio in a way that’s both intimate and revealing. Her mother’s insight, balanced with gentle humor, makes the scene feel like a genuine family moment where magic and love intersect.
Here’s a continuation that builds on the momentum you’ve set up:
After Arin’s mom left, an almost charged silence settled over the room. Arin turned to Dio, her cheeks still flushed from the conversation. “So…‘intense emotion,’” she murmured, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Guess we’re not exactly lacking that.”
I chuckled, scratching the back of my head while her godling comment ate away at me. “Yeah, it’s just…no pressure, right? Just stay ‘yourself’ while feeling like a goddess. Easy.”
Arin rolled her eyes, but her smile softened. “I think it’s less about being a goddess and more about embracing everything that makes me…me. I mean, I transformed into Eunbi and Jihyo because they’re confident, radiant…all things I sometimes wish I could be.”
I squinted and then squeezed her hand, my expression serious. “You don’t have to wish for it. You are all of those things, Arin. And not because of anyone else, either. It’s just you.” He tilted her chin gently to meet his gaze. “You’re already a goddess in my eyes.”
She laughed, the sound both relieved and nervous. “I guess today’s as good a time as any to test that ‘intense emotion’ lesson.” She reached out, linking her fingers through his, her expression becoming thoughtful. “Maybe I’ll start small. Let’s go for a walk. Being out and around people might help.”
We spent the day exploring familiar places, with Arin focusing on grounding herself every time she felt a major shift in her mood. It was harder than she’d expected—her emotions were sharper, more vivid like her awakening had amplified every feeling. Yet I was there beside her, steady and reassuring, helping her stay rooted in herself.
As the sun began to set, they returned to my apartment, and Arin seemed calm, almost radiant with a newfound confidence.
“Think you’re starting to get the hang of it?” I asked, watching her carefully.
Arin nodded. “A little. It’s…strange. It’s like I’m holding myself together, but in a way that’s natural. I feel like…me.”
Then, almost instinctively, she reached out and hugged me tightly. But this time, as her emotions surged—gratitude, love, an intense rush of security—she felt something settle within her. For the first time, her powers didn’t trigger another transformation. Instead, they seemed to blend with her, enhancing her presence without altering her appearance.
I looked at her, awe in my eyes. “I think that’s it, Arin. You didn’t change—you’re completely yourself.”
Arin’s eyes sparkled, a newfound clarity in her expression. “Maybe this magic isn’t about becoming someone else. It’s about becoming more of who I already am.”I smiled again and Arin kissed me I smiled again and Arin kissed me. After breaking this kiss she smiled and said,
“Now that I have gotten my powers under control maybe we should have a little fun godling,” Arin said.
I looked at Arin before raising an eyebrow “Wait so you heard that too.” I asked. Arin nodded and said,
“It was super weird but the last few months have been so I took it in stride.” we both laughed and she went back to kissing me. As we continued I felt her ravenous hunger she pinned me to the couch before saying.
“You didn't let me finish this morning and if it weren't for you being such a loyal good boy to me, I'd have to punish you,” she smiled maliciously. I hated how she could get me unbearably hard with her words and a look.
“Oh someone’s excited.” she coos before taking her top off. As she does I watch as her breasts swell and she takes the form of Eunbi again.
“Im going to fuck you with these big tits until whatever came out yesterday rears its head again. You have never fucked me that hard and now I'm gonna do everything in my power to coax that out of you.” Arin says as she turns into Jihyo.
She aggressively yanks my pants down before wrapping those massive melons around them. She spits and drools in between them as she moves them up and down my shaft.
I watch mentally stupefied as she curls and wraps her tits around me. In Jihyo’s raspy voice and tone, she asks, “Do you like it, babe? Me fucking you with these big tits.” I groan as I feel this itch in the base of my skull I ignore it and stuff it down “Jihyo” stops then says. “Don't fight it let it out fuck me. I can take your worst.”
Something inside me snaps and my mind goes blank. “Oh my little slut wants to be just a cum dump,” I say
“Jihyo” nods and I say, “Turn back to Arin. I want to pound that tight cunt!” “Jihyo nods before I'm met by my smiling girlfriend. I fireman carry her to the bed before pinning her to it. Our eyes lock as I caress her face before resting my hand on her chin. My other hand finds her folds and she is drenched.
“Oh looks like my cumdump is ready,” I say. Arin nods and I ram my cock inside of her. Arin moans.
“Fuck!” she rasps out. I grab her cute little ass. The tender flesh entices me to pound her harder. Arin’s eyes roll into the back of her head.
“How does my cock feel little slut. How does it feel ravaging you taking your mind piece by piece?” I tease. Arin’s pussy locks me in a death grip. I smile before ramming in and out of her. I watch as she squirms uncontrollably. Her form shifts to Eunbi again and I grab one of her large tits.
“Does this make you feel sexy when you become this cow, with massive tits.” Arin’s eyes roll back even further as I degrade her. As Eunbi her tits bounce hypnotically sending me deeper into this abyssal part of myself I can't control.
“God I just wanna fuck you till you're nothing, but my personal toy. My perfect little sex doll.” Arin moans at that as she cums. She squirts violently as her body responds to my touch. I smile then lean and whisper into her ear.
“Turn back so I can breed you properly.” Arin moans as she turns back again. I keep pounding her cunt until I feel a familiar sensation in my balls and I explode again and again in her womb. Arin screams as she cums again around me. I smile while pushing through my own orgasm I pull out to cum over the rest of her. The possessive energy I feel keeps up as I say.
“You're nothing without me. Nothing but a little sex slave for me to fuck and breed to my heart’s content.” Arin moans at the degradation as I paint her body with my seed. I smile as she gets covered then I come down from my high, and reality hits me. I am grossly apologetic for what I said and feel so guilty until Arin says smiling.
It's okay babe. That was so hot.”
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smutoperator · 8 months ago
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Versace On The Floor
Ning Yizhuo (Ningning) x Male Reader
Tags: anal, armpit licking, ball throating, creampie, crying, fashion, feet worship/footjob, (lots of) floor sex, mirror fucking, mouth gag, photoshoot, prone bone, rough but romantic, (lots of) screaming, spitting, throatpie, water play
Word count: 6569.
Shanghai, China, October 18th, 2023
Versace had been searching for a new ambassador for the very important East Asia market. They already had their pick set in mind: a short girl from Harbin, China, going by the name of Ning Yizhuo, also known by her cute stage name of Ningning. They had already been scouting her for a few months and even sent her some of the brand's clothes and accessories for her to test. It truly seemed like a perfect fit, but they needed a few extra tests.
Ningning was invited to Versace's icon dinner, taking place in Shanghai. They were aware of her potential and wanted to make sure she would sign her contract in her home country of China over her workplace in Korea. But before she was going to attend the dinner, they told her she had a photoshoot to make.
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"Perfect, amazing pose." You were the photographer for Ningning's photoshoot. Her ability to model truly impressed you. Truth be told, while Ningning was only a few days away from turning 21, she had a long baggage of training and had proven to be a true ace. There was no art she wasn't unable to craft, and modeling seemed pretty easy for Harbin's ice princess.
Ningning was so stunning, you felt like your pics weren't doing her beauty justice. The lens of the camera just couldn't capture how beautiful she was. Regardless, the Versace team supervising the photoshoot seemed to have largely approved your pics, even though you felt a bit underwhelmed and thought you could do much better.
The photoshoot was successfully wrapped up, but there were still a few hours before her dinner was going to start. The rest of the Versace staff left, but they instructed you to stay alone with her, giving you instructions on what to do to Ningning next. You then communicated it to her: "They want to make you a global ambassador, but they told me you need to pass some tests before becoming one."
"What kind of tests?" Ningning asked, a little confused but willing to grab such a unique opportunity. "They are, let's say, a little naughty," you replied, still a little embarrassed and not believing the task they gave you. "Naughty? What kind of naughty?" she asked.
"Sit, and I will show you," you told her. Ningning obliged, sitting on the chair where you had just taken pictures of her. Then you gave her the command, "But this time, instead of crossing your legs, I'll need you to spread them." "Ok," Ningning replied, still a little embarrassed as well.
You dove under Ningning's stunning Versace black dress, pulling her panties to the side and unveiling her butterfly-shaped pussy. "What are you doing?" she says, shocked. "It's part of the test; just stay calm," you reply. Ningning feels a bit wierded out at first with your tongue licking her folds, which are just as pretty as the rest of her body, but slowly eases up as you continue to move under her dress and touch her thighs.
"Get up, take your panties off, and go to the mirror," you tell Ningning, who obliges. You place a gag in her little mouth as Ningning faces the mirror. "Versace's next Global Ambassador is right here; she only needs to pass this test and be a good girl to me," you tease her, giving Ningning a massage right at her boob area with her dress still on. "You're gonna need new makeup for the dinner; this one is going to be ruined soon," you threaten her. Ningning looks a little scared but also very excited, wondering what is coming next.
You reach under Ningning's dress and start fingering her pussy nice and slowly. Even with the gag in her mouth, you can still hear her moaning nasally. "Shhhh," you ask her not to moan that much as your right hand now pinches her tits while the left one remains working on Ningning's pussy. "Your moans are so classy, I think you're a perfect fit for the brand," you tell Ningning as you put extra heat in her pussy, making her knee bend a little.
You pinch Ningning's pussy lips. "They look like wings from a butterfly," you say as you spread them out, and they get a lot of your attention. You then lift Ningning's arms up and turn her around, looking at her perfect doll face as you start licking her perfect and clean armpits. Every inch of her body is perfect, indeed. You give Ningning's right armpit some hard licks. "Oh shit," she says under the mouth gag as you search towards her most sensitive zones.
You never take your attention out of Ningning's pussy, fingering it harder, which makes her moan louder. "You look like such a great fuckdoll," you tell her as you now move to her left armpit, with a pair of fingers now penetrating inside her pussy. You aggressively lick her pits before lowering her bra straps, unveling Ningning's soft and ripe tits, which you promptly suck like a baby. 
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH OHHHHHHHHHHH~," Ningning lets out many high note moans as you move fast between her pair of boobs while putting lots of heat inside her pussy, as you know, with three fingers penetrating her vagina, leading her to scream endlessly. As you finish the finger-fucking session, Ningning rests her head against the mirror, drained by your overstimulation. You take your hands out of her pussy and let her juices pour right into her mouth, but only teasing her as it's still covered by the gag. Instead, you put your hand inside your own mouth and taste them, following it with a torrid kiss on Ningning's covered mouth.
"Whore, whore," you keep repeating to Ningning as you spit on her tits and slowly move down her body, lifting her dress and ducking your head under her pussy, licking it and sniffing it as hard as you can. She smells really good; to a point, it sends you to the heavens. Your sloppy tongue spits all over her folds as Ningning lowers her head to watch you eat her out from up top. "That clit is so fucking hard already," you tell her, as queefing noises come out of her pussy.
You spit on Ningning's pussy as you finish your cunt-eating session, turning her around and pinning her against the mirror, already with a new target in sight as you start tonguing her asshole. Just like with her pussy, you're impressed by its cleanliness. Class, etiquette, and hygiene—Ningning seems to indeed check all the boxes for Versace. Your mouth feasts on Ningning's anus as she continues to moan like a whore, filling the mirror with the steam of her breath.
Ningning's asshole is so tight, tastes so good, and has such a great smell that it makes you go feral. You bark like a dog as you move your tongue up and down her anal folds. Her moans are all you need to know why she's so well regarded as a vocalist, as they are loud, stable, and hit some of the hardest notes. "Whoa," Ningning says as you lift her little body up, grabbing her by the legs and placing her high heels in your thighs as you continue to eat her ass while she clings to the mirror to not fall down.
But as things continue to go on, Ningning takes on a more active role. Sensing how much you like her ass, she starts bouncing it in the air while you tongue it. You quickly try to restablish your dominance, pinning Ningning back while she reaches her hand to now be the one caressing your ass. You sniff her black hair, and just like everything else in her, it smells amazing. "Good girl, I want to hear your beautiful voice," you tell her, taking the gag out of her mouth. Ningning lets out a radiant smile as soon as you do it.
You tongue-kiss Ningning, and she quickly answers, turning her head to face you and interlocking both your lips. You grab her neck a bit, but let her take the initiative as she blows you away with how good of a kisser she is. Is there anything this girl can't do?. "I can't wait to fuck the shit out of you," you whisper in her ear between more and more torrid kisses. You choke Ningning as she fills the mirror with fog from her breath. "Look at this whore," you tell her. "Perfect to get pounded until she gets her global ambassador title," you continue as you spit on the mirror, leading Ningning to put her tongue out and lick it immediately. More kisses ensue. Good god, just Ningning's tongue is already sending shockwaves all over your body. You wonder what's going to happen when you actually start fucking her.
Your belt gets unhooked in a snap, and your urge to have Ningning, please, takes your already throbbing cock to the next level. You tie your belt to Ningning's neck and tell her, "You're my pet now.". "Yes, be my owner, and I'll be your fucking bitch," she says. "Then get on your knees," you reply as you take your pants off, and your hard cock immediately springs out of them. Ningning doesn't need any commands, as she already starts licking the sides of your shaft before inserting that throbbing meat in her mouth.
Ningning can't stop moaning even while sucking cock, as she also imprints her long nails all over your crotch. You respond by choking her a little bit more with your belt. Ningning pins her head against the mirror and starts sucking you off with her hands behind her back. She was truly like those A+ students who can ace any evaluation you throw at them. "You like it?" you asked her. "Yes, I fucking love it; it's so meaty and tastes so fucking good," she replied.
"Open your mouth; let me see how much you love it," you ask Ningning, who quickly follows. At first, you barely put half of your shaft in before shoving your full length inside Ningning's tiny gloryhole. "This one will go so deep I'll make you cry," you bragged, but Ningning resisted, instead engulfing your whole sword down her throat. You kept forcing it, but it took a long time before she finally gagged.
"So that's how I assume you already do your throat training," you mocked her. "I wanna see you cry like a whore," you kept going, but Ningning was insanely strong. You knew you needed much more to break the ice princess than shoving a girthy microphone down her throat. You sloppily fucked Ningning's face to get your cock wetter, but she barely bulged except for a couple gags. Even after pressing your whole weight against her face and shoving your balls inside her mouth as well, she still stayed put against your attacks. Ningning was a good fuckdoll, but she was no pushover.
"Bite me," you asked Ningning, who left a huge mark in your left hand with her teeth. Ningning barked as she bit you as hard as she could, like an untamed pet who doesn't have any owners. Her face was that of a girl who would do anything to become the next Versace girl, and you knew it. You had to slap her in the face to prevent your order from backfiring and have her leave your fingers bleeding.
"So now you're crying," you told Ningning as you saw tears flow down her eyes following a few slaps you gave her doll-esque face. "Should have done it earlier," you reprimanded her as you grabbed her by the neck and sat on top of her before switching back to romantic kisses and giving her tits a little caressing. That didn't last long, though, as you grabbed Ningning by the hair and dragged her down the floor on her knees like your pet, making her fall down. As soon as she did, you spanked her ass. "Bad whore," you said. "You need to be punished.".
You placed your fingers on both of Ningning's bottom holes, as your index and middle fingers penetrated her pussy while your thumb penetrated her asshole. "You know what? There is something much better to do," you say as you put your cock on Ningning's pussy in one go. "AHHHHHHH. AHHHHHH. AHHHHH," she immediately screams as you pin her body to the floor, going rough on her but at the same time very passionate, as you kiss Ningning to the rhythm of your pumps inside her vagina.
"Holy shit, you fuck my pussy so good, oh God," Ningning praises you. But truth be told, she's the one who deserves all the praise. You just go hard because you know she can take it, and holy shit she does it like a pro. You thurst full speed in and out of it, and Ningning loves every second of it, but especially every inch of it stratching her out. As you finish the first round of fucking her beautiful butterfly pussy, you give her ass a tap and leave her lying on the floor, staring at her sexy fuckholes.
Ningning gets up and crawls in your direction. The hard floor is nothing for someone who is always banging those strong knees on dance practices every day. You sit on the floor as well, as she starts taking your shoes off. As soon as she does, you nearly kick her in the face; her reflexes save her from it. In fact, you wanted to make her sniff your dirty socks as punishment, and soon enough, she did. You go even further, shoving your toes into Ningning's whore mouth. "I want to see if you can sing with those now," you laugh.
As Ningning takes your sock off, she ends up falling for your trap, with you tying them around her mouth. "Shut the fuck off and obey your master," you say as you kiss her with your socks in her mouth, before spitting on her face and then putting the other sock inside her hole. "Are you my pet?" you ask. Ningning just nods positively. You continue to tie her up, as now you fully wrap your belt around her neck.
You plow Ningning's pussy from behind as she tries to scream even with her mouth completely shut off. Her nipples scrape the floor as they bounce each time you pound her. "Shut up, little cunt," you tell her as you dive her head to the floor. But Ningning is incapable of obeying. Her mouth was born to sing, and she does it a lot, even while getting stretched out by a big, meaty cock while pinned to the floor. "Fucking whore, fucking whore," you repeat as you remove one of the socks and now try to fuck her mouth with the other sock still inside it, stretching Ningning's tight singing hole to the maximum.
As you free Ningning's mouth, you keep spitting on her. This time, you try to tame her by shoving your balls in her mouth, but she takes it with no issue, wrapping her tongue all over them. "If you like to use that tongue so much than eat my asshole," you order to her. Ningning dives her mouth into your dirty anus as you masturbate yourself watching her lick it clean. " Finally acting like a good whore, cleaning your photographer's asshole," you "praise" her.
You lock Ningning's head around your neck, making her sniff your butthole even harder. Despite your sweatiness and dirtiness, she keeps it cool and continues to lick it. You try to make it harder on her as you jiggle your ass all over her face. "Now you're the dirty whore I wanted," you say, but that only leads to Ningning sticking her tongue even deeper in your anus.
You get up and grab her hair once again, dragging your little pet towards the chair where Ningning once sat like a queen on her throne. This time, however, she kneels on it with her ass up as you spank her again. You lick her butthole as Ningning spreads her legs a little on the chair. "FUUUUUCK," she moans as you stick your middle finger up her tight butthole. While you may try to treat Ningning like a useless whore, the truth is that you in fact worship her, as you literally turn into her ass kisser, giving her tiny little ring kiss after kiss and praising its tightness.
"Let me get in there," you say as your finger and mouth are soon replaced by something much bigger as you grab Ningning's cheeks and start fucking her ass. She moans like she usually does, even better now with no restraints in her mouth. Her anus is so tight that after a few pumps, you have to pull it out and then struggle to come back as you keep missing it. Ningning has to come to your aid as she lifts her left leg to give you an easy entrance to her asshole.
Ningning feels the burn as you push deeper into her tiny bumhole, but her eyes are full of lust, and she keeps telling you to push harder. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight in there," you tell her as she moans close to your face. You let Ningning close her legs and wrap your cock like a hot dog sausage as she moves her hips up and down your shaft for you to watch before you surprise her with the deepest insertion yet.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH OH MY GOOOOODDDDDDDDDDD,"  Ningning screams to the top of your lungs. This is truly the first time you see her voice crack. You punish her by going even deeper and giving her already red face an extra spank, as she starts begging for God at each pump you give deep inside her asshole. "FUCKKKKKKK. AHHHHHHH. YESSS!" she continues to scream. She's been told to be like this, always expressing her emotions through her voice.
"Oh shit, the way you scream is so sexy," you tell her, pushing her head closer to yours as you keep stretching her ass. Ningning just can't stop. At this point, you are just relieved that you decided to have the photoshoot in a more isolated building, because otherwise thousands of people would hear her screaming.
"I fucking love you; I want to fuck you until you lose your voice," you tell Ningning as you keep going harder and harder in her butthole. "Scream for me, you fucking bitch," you tell her as you spank her ass five consecutive times. Ningning instead opts for her sexy moans before she has to cling onto the chair as you keep shaking it left and right.
"Bad girl," you tell Ningning as you put her on her knees. She jiggles her ass and masturbates your pole before you insert it back deep in her hole, moaning a lot in between. "Don't move," you demand as you spank her now completely red butt, and she rests her head on the top of the chair. "Say you're my toy," you demand of her. "I'm your toy; I'm your toy," she repeats using her aegyo voice. "Then feel that cock," you tell her, grabbing her ass and pumping inside Ningning's anus slowly and deeply. You hit the perfect spots as she beautifully moans.
You grab Ningning by the belt around her neck, treating her like she is your dog. Her face is now redder than her cheeks as she closes her eyes. "Yes, treat me like your toy. AH. AH. AH. FUCKKKKKKK," she keeps saying. "Let me see that face." You push her closer to you as Ningning continues to scream. "Shhhhhh," you tell her, but she ignores your claims for silence, screaming even harder each time you hit deep in her asshole.
You had enough of Ningning screaming and put your belt on her mouth. To no avail. You can only muffle it, but Ningning keeps yelling as if she were at a singing competition. "AHHHHHHHHHH," she yells. You grab Ningning by her arm and keep fucking her hard in the ass; she can't stop screaming. Her legs tremble as she puts her right one in the air, barely able to hold herself with the hard speed of your poundings.
Ningning looks tired as you remove the belt from her mouth. But you are far from done, pushing her little body back to the floor. "Ride me," you demand as you push Ningning back up and sit on the chair where you just obliterated her. "YES. YES. YES!" she screams as she spreads her legs, and you put your cock back in her ass and the belt back in her mouth, trying to resist as you push your big meat up her butthole. "FUCK. Oh God!" she screams, even if it's muffled by the belt.
You free Ningning from the belt as she gets her eyes destroyed, taking the belt off again. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!" she instantly screams as you do it. Her little body is very easy to place under a full Nelson, as her legs are now spread at a 120-degree angle, and your arms lock her as you grab Ningning by her head. Ningning has to start fingering herself as you quickly move into stimulating her tits, but never lifting the gas off and fucking her ass every single time.
You have to slow down not to cum as you move an already tired Ningning into the table to the side of the chair, still with your prick inside her ass. She screams as her face stares at the floor while you destroy her tiny hole and mount on top of her as if she were just a useless cow. You have to bring the other chair to rest her head on, as she keeps yelling. Ningning's face turns red after so much screaming, but you shut it once again, this time with her mouth. She is a mess that can only hope that all this rough session is enough for her to become the next Versace girl as you destroy her asshole in a rough prone bone.
"DAMN FUCK!" Ningning screams as you show no mercy towards her, having to push her head against the chair to endure the endless fucking. She pants hard, and her face is now redder than a tomato as your roughness gives way to some passionate kisses. "You're the best girl I've ever fucked," you gently tell her as you put your thumb in her mouth and fully top her, your cock still buried deep in her ass. Ningning never looked so sore, but she also loves how intensely you fuck her.
After a little rest, you come full force to pound her tight ass, this time stomping all over her little doll head. Her butt gets spanked, her tits press against the chair, and she's completely pinned like a submissive whore. "AHHHHHHH FUCK!" she screams once again as you replace your fast thrusts and move to slow but very deep hits inside her butthole, inserting your thick cock balls deep inside her.
"Stay there," you tell Ningning as your rough session ends. She moans and pants as her body stays on the chair. Your spanks turned her fully red, and her legs barely moved. You keep looking at her, pondering your next move, until you decide to once again grab her by the hair. You really like how good it looks, despite how messy she is right now. You're kind and give her some water to drink before feeding her your cock, making a splash inside her mouth. You keep this weird mix of water and sausage, giving Ningning a little more as a reward for sucking it good, despite having her mouth already full.
Ningning bursts the water on your cock as you insert it deep in her throat. Despite all the rough pounding, she can still take a big one in her mouth with ease. Maybe you just haven't broken that doll enough. As you finally empty the bottle and fuck her face a couple times, you two now get on your knees and passionately kiss each other on the floor.
You put your washed cock back on Ningning's tight cunt, letting her do the riding this time. Ningning doesn't look as strong as before, as her bounces initially only get half of your length inside her pussy, but she quickly adjusts to take it deeper despite her very sore hole up top that winks every time she gets to the base of your shaft. You give her butt a little slap, and she answers, increasing the pace. Her screams are now fully back, and despite her tiredness, she still manages not to crack.
"Good girl," you praise Ningning's ride as she slides straight down your pole, then tilts her body down to let you spank her even further. The redder you turn her snowy skin, the better. "I want you to cum all over that cock," you tell her as she steadily bounces on it. After a few screams, Ningning stops and sits with your shaft fully inside her, letting out her orgasmic moans as her pussy clenches all over your meat. Ningning goes insane, making the chair move a lot as she twists and turns while riding your cock.
You give Ningning very passionate kisses and grab her by the waist as she gets closer to you. "I love you, I love you," she says, never stopping her bounce. "Then cum all over me," you demand of her, who screams as her pussy creams your cock with juices. You rest your back on the chair as Ningning is now in a straight position, bouncing on your dick, while you grab her by the belt wrapped around her neck. "Keep going; ride me like a little toy," you tell her. Ningning beautifully moves up and down your shaft as you grab her waist.
You make it harder on Ningning, spanking every inch of her body like she's just a ragdoll. Belly. Pussy. Face. Nothing can escape your heavy hands. But your favorite target are her bouncy tits. "Oh yes," she screams as you land a heavy hit on her boobs before groping them. "Oh my God, what a fucking whore!" you say to her. Ningning moans as you move close to her to give her more kisses. Every time you treat her rough, you compensate, showing how much you love her. And she knows, wrapping her arms around you like a cute girl who only wants to feel loved.
Without ever leaving her pussy, you move the kissing session elsewhere by pushing Ningning back to where she belongs, the cold, hard floor. You top her on a torrid missionary, giving her pussy slow pumps as you continue to interlock your lips with hers. Ningning licks her chops as you press her whole body to the floor and kisses her neck while fucking her passionately, spreading her legs as you deeply mate her, rocking your hips sideways as her moans get more and more out of breath.
Ningning holds her hands against the chair as you now move around her tits, kissing and sucking them multiple times. After a few more kisses in her mouth, you switch to a fast pace as clapping sounds come out every time you pound her pussy. "YES, LIKE THAT, LIKE THAT," she yells as you hit her cunt hard, sticking her tongue out as you spit in her mouth and go back to treat her like a fuckdoll. 
You find some love for her armpits, licking them once more and adding them to your spitting session, but what you like the most is spitting on her face, showing your disapproval of how much of a slut she is. "That fucking cunt is so tight," you tell her as you keep pounding her. Ningning keeps yelling as you pick up the pace, pounding her against the floor like nothing. 
You put her legs up in the air and play with her asshole, going in and out of it to tease her. "YEAH. FUCK!" she screams as you keep doing it before surprising her with fast pumps in her gaped butthole. "Oh yeah, fuck!" Ningning screams as you grab her left thigh. "Open that ass," you demand of her as she spreads her sore cheeks and shows her huge gape. Her holes wink as you go back in, groping her tits, choking her, and treating her roughly as she remains lying on the floor.
Ningning gets obliterated on the floor as you keep fucking her mercilessly. "AHHH!" she yells, her body bouncing at each thrust. You start fingering her pussy and put her upside down. "OH MY GOD. What?" she asks as juices flow out of her wet vagina and her legs tremble, making her scream even further: "FUCKKKKKKK". You apply so much pressure to her pussy she collapses back on the floor, yelling as she orgasms and her body twists and turns. You drag her body across the floor and then massage her tits as she cums.
You put Ningning back upside down to torture her pussy even further, putting all your fingers inside of it and massaging her hole. Ningning lets out a perfect high note as you make her cum, and her hole gets even wetter. You spink her at the floor and turn her dizzy, her only reacting the way she knows best: screams and more screams.
Ningning once again gets fucked hard against the floor, but this time it's her mouth that gets your throbbing cock going in and out of it at full speed. You don't even look at her, just treating her like a bunch of fuckholes that are only there to please your cock. You shut her throat down, having enough of her screams, which come as soon as you free her mouth for a little second. But Ningning wants more, as she sucks your big dick on the floor before you react by sitting your whole weight against her doll face and putting your cock back in her mouth.
"Choke on it, bitch," you tell her as your balls also go inside her mouth. She tries to push up, but you slap her in the face. "I told you to choke on it," you say as you punish her. This time, you drag her by her knees and send her back to the mirror. You two made a mess a while ago. "Look how dirty it is; I think a whore got in there," you say as Ningning pants and licks the mirror. The mouth gag goes back in her mouth as you want her to watch herself get destroyed.
"Shhhhh," you tell her as you get close to her body. Ningning looks into the mirror as she sees your devilish face, ready to fuck her even harder. You wrap your hands around her pussy and then let her wrap your hands around your cock, grinding on it. Soon, her hands are tied behind her back, and she watches herself look like a mess in the mirror.
"Look at you, Versace's next slut," you prank her as your hands go back to massage her butterfly-shaped pussy. Ningning reacts and matches your moves down low, jerking your cock off. "Do you love me?" you ask her as she nods positively. "Now you do. I took it all the way; you should love me. Because what I tell Donatella will be what is going to decide your future with the brand," you say, taking the gag off Ningning's mouth and kissing her passionately as tears flow out of her eyes.
"Don't cry. You're a good girl," you tell her, as she can only pant and massage your cock, nothing else. But she doesn't listen and continues to cry. "I'm going to miss you after you're gone," you tell her. Ningning hasn't looked this emotional since all her hard work paid off and she was selected to debut for Aespa. She loves you too, and she's ready to join the Versace family. "After we are done, I'll think of you every day. We haven't even finished, but I already missed you." You continue to proclaim your love for Ningning, the most beautiful girl you've ever seen.
"I fucking love you, and I'm gonna show it," you say as you pin Ningning back against the mirror and put your cock back in her pussy. Just like earlier, she instinctively holds her hands against it, letting out a crying moan as you insert your cock back in her already used-up hole. You go slow, letting her enjoy each thrust your veiny pole gives her pussy to the fullest. Ningning's tears suddenly turn into a smile as you show your love for her with faster and faster poundings.
"YES. YES. YES. YES. YES. YES." she wholeheartedly approves as you fuck her in front of the mirror, her high heels stomping the floor each time you hit deep in her pussy. "You're mine," you tell her as she closes her eyes and goes back to her beautiful screams, the image of her doing it in the mirror looking amazing. You keep telling Ningning she's yours as you grab her arms and place them behind her back, with her just trying to keep her balance on top of her heels.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Ningning screams the hardest as you treat her like a sex doll, fucking her like there is no tomorrow. Her body shakes, and she almost falls down. As soon as you stop, you turn her around and kiss her instantly. But you're very opportunistic, taking advantage of her passion and lust to drop her back to the floor like a ragdoll. "Lick your master's feet if you really love me," you tell her as your fetishes get sicker and sicker, and Ningning obliges, her body lying back on the hard floor as she worships your toes.
You once again do your favorite thing for her: drag her tiny body across the floor by her pretty hair. Ningning looks weaker than ever; you now have full control over her. You finally take her heels off, taking your turn to worship her feet. Amazingly, just like everything in her, they smell like roses. Ningning gets so excited that she shoves her left foot in your mouth, and you don't punish her for it; the deeper the better.
You wrap Ningning's legs around your neck and draw her body close to yours as she slides on the floor. You too continue to hotly kiss each other as she slides further and puts your cock back in her pussy, her ass frictioning against the floor as she moves up and down your shaft while giving little sexy out-of-breath moans to your face.
Suddenly, you take back control and hump your ass against the floor to fuck her. "Oh yes, oh yes," Ningning approves, as she has now nearly lost her voice. She no longer screams, only whispers. As you grab her neck, you give her more declarations of love while never losing sight of her tight pussy. "I love you, my little butterfly," you tell her as you wrap your arms around her leg and pound her pussy faster. As Ningning regains her strength to yell, you put your arms in her mouth. "Bite them if you love me," you demand. And she does all that while still letting out her classic muffled screams.
Ningning looks completely wasted and exhausted as she collapses on the floor. But she still wants your cock as she wraps her feet around your shaft and uses them to jerk you off. What a naughty girl. She just holds herself to the chair's legs and extends her body on the floor, moving those beautiful feet up and down that big cock. You just enjoy the perfect view of her tiny naked body while she does it, holding the urge not to shoot your cum all over it as her little footjob massage puts you on the edge.
"Fuck, yes," you approve of Ningning's footjob. But you need not lose sight of her as you push her back close to you and put her in a spooning position. "Come here," you tell her. Ningning's tongue is completely out of her mouth, indicating how tired she is. Her efforts to gasp for air make her tits move a lot as you just give her pussy some slow and deep pumps, waiting for her to recover.
"Finish inside me, please," Ningning begs as you lift her left leg and pound her wide open pussy. She starts cooing like a baby at each thrust you give her, harder and harder poundings. Ningning's pussy clenches all over your cock as she waits for you to coat her insides with cum. After nearly an hour of fucking this ice-cold beauty, you're now tired too, taking some pauses to hiss her and look at her beautiful but now super messy face.
You caress Ningning as tears of joy flow out of her eyes, tenderly placing your hands and running them over her now ultra-red skin. You go very slowly, letting her kisses heat you up. As you regain your strength to fuck her hard, she senses you getting closer: "YES, YES, YES, PLEASE CUM ALL OVER MY PUSSY," she screams. You detach a little from Ningning to take one final look at her perfect body as you grab her legs and attack her pussy at full speed.
"OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD," Ningning screams as her vaginal walls smash your cock, soon leading to your pulsating member finally giving in and filling her pussy to the brim. Her body shakes on the floor as your cum flows out of her hole, and both of you collapse after such an exhilarating hour of intense sex, staying there for a couple seconds. As Ningning finally manages to go back on her knees, you feed your still-hard cock into her mouth, balls deep. Her warm mouth and your insatiable desire for her make it explode again, filling her throat with your warm load as well. Ningning gets fully emotional and cries as you hug her and kiss her cum-filled mouth for one last time, which you hope isn't the last.
"Welcome to the Versace family, Ningning. But even better, welcome to my world," you tell her as the security staff tells you to leave. "Your time is up," they tell you.
Ningning takes a long shower and gets ready for the dinner. It goes perfectly. She leaves an amazing impression on the whole Versace family. They know what she did in that room. You have already briefed them. But Ningning is not aware of it.
The months go by. Versace gets even closer to her during Aespa's comeback, with her constantly wearing their clothes. But her promotion seems to have never come. That is, until she receives a notification from Donatella herself, telling Ningning she'll be their next global ambassador.
After so much effort, Ningning is finally one of the Versace superestars, and as she arrives at Milan Fashion Week, a familiar face is there to greet her.
"Meet your new personal photographer, Ningning. Well, I think you know him already."
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joemama-2 · 1 month ago
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this is not how you imagined your friday night would go.
you thought you’d be watching the stars by now after a nice dinner. maybe some compliments, maybe even a small kiss shared. or some held hands.
but no. because currently you’re seated on the expensive couch, eyes fixated on some random nature documentary because you don’t have the courage to face the six year old boy to your left and demand him to stop staring.
you like kids, but this one oddly makes you nervous, scared almost.
your date is in the bathroom taking way too long and you’re half tempted to up and leave. your posture is stiff, forcing yourself to find the screen interesting.
our of your peripheral, you can see the boy raise his spoonful of ice cream to his mouth, head tilting like you’re one of the animals being observed on the TV.
“are you the one he keeps talking about?”
confusion strikes you as you finally turn your head to face him. your titled head mirroring his own. “um…..i’m not sure.”
a part of you feels flattered by the sudden fact. is satoru really talking about you? but then an unsettling feeling takes place, one of hesitation and jealously. or is he talking about someone else?
“you have the black Cane Corso, right?”
ah, so it’s the former. you smile. “oh, yeah. that’s me.”
“what’s his name?” the little boy asks you, shifting his small body as the talk of dogs gains his attention by the second.
“sunny.”
his brows pinch together. “why sunny?”
“because he was a stray, i found him in a box on a very hot day.”
he hums and nods before asking yet another question. you forget how curious children can be. “is he nice?”
you chuckle. sunny has the stereotype of being aggressive due to his breed and size, but he’s anything but. he’s your gentle giant who gets scared of butterflies and plastic water bottles. “he’s really nice, he loves meeting new people and licking.”
you playfully stick your tongue out with a look of a faux grimace. this gets the small boy to crack a hint of a smile. it warms your heart almost instantly. “you like dogs?” you ask him, voice softening.
he nods automatically. “i really like dogs, i have two dogs. one is white and the other is black.”
“oh wow,” your eyebrows raise. “that’s so cool, are they big too?”
“mhm.” he nods.
you do a small look around. “where are they?”
he simply shrugs and answers, “they only come out sometimes.”
you want to ask what he means by that, but you figure satoru would best know. speaking of, he must be shitting a big one or he’s trying to calm his nerves inside that bathroom down the hall.
the little boy hesitates, like he wants to ask another question but isn’t sure if he should. you give him an encouraging nod and he sighs. “can you bring sunny next time?”
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“when you said you were fostering, i assumed a pet or something. not an actual child.” you tell Satoru as he’s walking you to your apartment door.
the two of you stop in front and he takes this time to grin. “do i not look like a boy dad?”
your eyebrow raises with an unamused expression. “no, first off, you look like a girl dad. and second off, does he consider you his dad?”
“nah, not at all. more like an older brother if anything. or maybe that annoying uncle everyone hates.” he reaches forward to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “did he like you?”
“i hope so.” your lips purse. “i wasn’t exactly ready to pitch myself as a good person tonight to some kid.”
satoru chuckles, thumb lingering on your cheek. “don’t need to pitch yourself, just be you and he’ll like you just as much as i do. well—actually—hopefully not as much. i’d hate to have competition.”
you can’t help but roll your eyes. “he did mention a next time, though. wants me to bring my dog.”
“you mean that oversized human on all fours?”
your hand collides with his shoulder. he laughs and intertwines your fingers with his. “kidding, kidding. don’t get violent, at least not now.”
leaning down, his lips kiss your forehead smoothly, they linger for a few seconds before he mutters against your skin. “his names megumi, i hope you’ll get along.”
your stomach flutters during this moment, relishing in the easy and comfortable intimacy. you nod and murmur back. “of course.”
he pulls back and smiles down at you. just as he’s about to speak another cheesy line, you beat him to it.
“so….you talk about me a lot?”
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holyparadisenightmare · 8 months ago
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It had only been a few days since your partner left for their business trip, but you were already going stir crazy. You were spending the whole day tempering your ravenous, insatiable libido. Every inch of you boiled. Toys refused to satisfy.
Climbing into the shower, it was hard not to be turned on just looking at yourself. Your erect nipples, idle playthings for your horny mind. Minutes in and all that work cleaning yourself would be undone. So you'd rinse and repeat.
In your room you found your partner's favourite set of lingerie: a matching set of black, lacey panties and a bra. It had only been a few days since you last wore them, but you could already feel yourself spill out more than usual. What were once large, but perky tits were now heavy hanging breasts that sat snug, snugger than usual, in that delicate fabric.
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Nights turned to days as you roamed your house alone. But it wasn't long before your concerns were vindicated. Your breasts had gotten larger. In fact, they continued to grow. Veins pushed their way to the surface as the skin around your tits stretched thinner.
But it wasn't the only thing growing.
You honestly thought it was just bloat. Anxious that a few days of unaccompanied eating and wanking had you gaining weight, your belly surged forward from where you were used to. But after two weeks and the bloat refusing to pass, you knew more was going on.
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Throwing on a sports bra, you tried to hide your growing tits and belly. A grey, oversized tracksuit followed over and with a pair of sunglasses the look was complete as you venture out into the world to find some clarity.
You arrived at a pharmacy. The woman at the counter greeted you as you walked in. You smiled politely but bit your lip as you saw her. She was short, a little shorter than you, chunky with a black bob. Thick in all the right ways.
Terrified, you tried to hide your arrousal and your belly.
You smiled back and asked "Can i get a pregnancy test?" your words fell away as your mumble through the last of your sentence.
"I'm sorry, i didn't quite catch that." She said with a smile that said 'i heard you but I want to make you say it out loud.'
Your face was bright red. The woman behind the counter carelessly looking you over like a piece of meat. "A pregnancy test. I need one." You conceed, pointing past her to the display behind the counter.
"Oh, I'm sorry miss." She snarked, reaching back to grab one, "I didn't think someone so far along would needs that."
Your face and pussy burnt. "H-how dare you!" You half moan at her, looking around to see if anyone had heard. You were both alone.
But before you could break into a full tyrade, you looked down at yourself for the first time since you stepped into the store. You had grown since the drive here. And you were huge. The sweat shirt did nothing to hide your size, the front pulled taught by the size of your growing belly.
You cried, "Oh my god!" Before running... well, waddling to the bathroom. You tripped and stumbled as you adjusted to your new centre of gravity. You locked the door behind you and peeled back your slowly shrinking sweat shirt.
You looked full term. 9 months pregnant. Your belly button had popped. Your ass had widened, and your belly grew so naturally from your plump form you wondered how you had ever looked without it.
As you raised your shirt to reveal yourself your hand brushed against your breasts. Its swollen flesh threatened to spill out and over your tight sports bra. You carefully pulled the bra up and over, careful not to put too much pressure on your very sore breasts. Regardless, each nipple slowly trickled beads of milk down your body.
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Your pussy craved satisfaction. It ate at you, filling your mind with fog. You were one part petrified, but 9 parts severely turned on. And what little scared you onlu turnes you on more. What if someone caught you?
With a hand you slid up and squeezes one of your engorged breasts. Milk splattered across the mirror. You moaned as you watched your reflection play with herself.
But a knock at the door brought you crashing back to earth. "Ma'am?" The clerk called from behind the door.
"Y-yeah?" Your voice hinted at the pleasure you're so desperate to return to.
"I hate to bother you. But that stall is for paying customers only. And, like I said. I dont think you need this test."
"I can't come out right now." You said back.
"Do you need help?" She asked, genuinely concerned.
You hesitsted for a moment.
"Can you get some oil, some napkins and a clean shirt? I'll pay for them!"
You could hear her voice catch at the strangle request. "O-Okay?"
Eventually she returned. You unlocked the door a crack and let her pass the items through. But in the corner of your eye, in the reflection of the window, you see her face looking back. She saw you, tits, belly and all. Her face turned bright red as she slams the backroom door shut.
Flustered your deslerately scramble to clean yourself up. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You hurridly cry.
Her voice turned into a long and uncertain "uuuhhhhh" as she tried to find the words to describe how she's feeling. "The ummm. The bathroom is kinda gross. Did yo-did you want to use the staff room?" She finally utters. "Its just me here. Perfectly safe."
You sigh. Tired, hungry and heavy, and in desperste need of being milked, you agree. Slipping the white shirt she gave you on, you couldn't deny it left little to the imagination.
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Quickly you open the door and slip awkwardly through the pharmacy. Your belly and tits swinging as you do. The wet stains around your nipples getting larger, revealing your dark areolas underneath. After what felt like an eternity of exposure you cross the threshold and slip into the backroom of the store. The clerk quickly closing in behind.
She pulls up a large office chair and gestures you to sit down. You happil oblige, resting your monsterous belly on your lap and your leaking breasts on your belly. The sigh of relief came involentarily as you thank her.
Her smile turned from carring to ceniving as she locks the door behind her. "Now we're alone, I need you to take that top off."
"E-excuse m-me?"
The pharmacist drops down to her knees and begins kissing your enormous belly. "Big girl, you're going nowhere like this. I heard the noises you made. And i know you think i'm cute. Come on." She says, lifting your struggling shirt and sweezing oil into her hands. "Be a good girl for me."
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You couldn't help but yelp at her touch, but something about her stern stare made you melt. Between your partner being gone and your sudden pregnancy, you were keen for something certain. Your body relaxed as she went.
She lifted your shirt off completely and exposed your collosal breasts. Rounded, swolen with milk, yet so large they flopped to either side of your mamoth belly. Pinned beneath it, stuck in this chair, the pharmacist had her way with you.
She dragged a tongue up your belly, around your breasts, lapping up stray milk. She sent shivered down your spine. Thrulls of pleasure followed too as she latched onto your swolen nipple. She sucked. Your nipples, raw and wanting, felt a wash of instant relief as you felt your warm milk release from its prison.
Your stray hand reached low, past your belly, in search of your pussy. You were dripping wet. You dove deep into yourself to lube up your finger and began rubbing your clit. You moaned as the gorgeous woman sucked away at your breasts, still rubbing lotion on your belly.
You quickly fell into the pit of pleasure. Your pace was steady and you begged her to keep going. With your other hand you took hold of your spare and swollen tit and squeezed. A yelp jumped from your lips. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your sprayed milk across the back room.
It wasn't long before the pleasure built to a breaking point. You tried to hunch forward but your belly got in the way. You let go of your tit and gripped the desk beside you as hard as you could as you reach climax.
For the first time in weeks you finally felt satisfied. Panting and sweating you look over at your new friend with a greatful smile. She returns the feeling.
But as you stand to leave your legs give out. Not just regular jelly legs, you look down and realise you've only gotten larger. Your belly stretches out to your knees, and your breasts fall down by your side. You can see them swelling with fresh milk. Your thighs have grown and your fat ass is stuck in the chair.
You look up helplessly at the pharmacist as she kneels down between your legs and vanished behind your belly.
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klausysworld · 20 days ago
Note
Hey, I love your writing style a lot so I wanted to ask if your open for a Joseph Morgan request?
Here’s what I had in mind:
Reader is new on set of The Originals and on one of her first days, she has to film a spicy scene with Joseph. She feels uncomfortable about doing that with a co star she has a little crush on and generally have to undress for a scene. He calms her and guides her through it, always looking out that she’s comfortable. Just a cute Joseph please and the end is very up to you :)
Thank you <3
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Camera Shy
Joining the Originals set was a long shot for me, I hadn't actually expected to be casted and casted as a love interest was more than I had even auditioned for.
Getting to know everyone on set was a little scary but everyone was lovely, and funny, some of them (Daniel) were especially funny and Daniel and Joseph together were a right sketch.
Claire, Phoebe, Riley and Danielle had been great at helping me feel apart of the group despite coming in late.
Scenes sometimes took a few takes and a lot of time but seeing them put all together made every second worth it.
The most difficult scenes had been the more romantic scenes with Joseph. The first make out scene had been so awkward, completely my fault, and therefore every other scene seemed to make me worse.
The amount of makeup they had to put on me to hide the way my cheeks blushed was embarrassing and even then sometimes I swear I could still see it on the camera.
The embarrassment was high enough just kissing let alone stripping down to my underwear in front of a dozen cameras, costars and directors. But the most anxiety raising part of it was knowing Joseph's hands were going to be the ones pulling my shirt off, tugging my jeans down and I was going to have to do the same to him.
They have us a half an hour break right before the scene, everyone was getting a coffee or whatever but I couldn't even thing about relaxing.
I felt sweaty, I felt like he would be able to smell me and tell that I was turned on and terrified all at once.
My breathing was rushed and broken as I looked at myself in the mirror. I couldn't cry, makeup had spent hours making sure I looked flawless.
But I couldn't help it as the nerves bred fast. My fingers tapped the desk in an unkept pattern, my eyes blurring up and nose getting stuffy.
I really hadn't expected the hands on my shoulders, the soft touch rubbing along my arms both gently and firmly.
"Do you feel okay, love?" He asked and I sniffed. "Do you need me to tell them you'll be off sick?"
"No..." I mumbled, trying to blink away any tears but he had it covered when a folded square of tissue tapped under my eyes carefully. "I'm sorry, I'm just being silly." I laughed but he only frowned.
"You're scared?" He murmured, arm wrapping around my waist in the gesture of comfort that I needed.
"I don't know...I've just never had to take off any clothes for TV before you know? I haven’t-" I swallowed down my words and he pulled me to a hug.
"I understand" he nodded, rubbing my back. "I can talk to them, we can change the scene or move it."
"We can't, I have to do it and I want to do it for the viewers but it's just really hard and people are gonna look and me and say things-"
"The only things anyone will say is how beautiful you look." He interrupted, eyes boring into mine like the ocean during the night, "Nobody will want you to do this scene if you feel this uncomfortable, I promise you they'll understand."
I sniffled and shook my head. "It's gonna be good for my career, I need to" I mumble and he squeezed me a little.
"I'll be right there for you, the whole time. I'll be gentle-" He tried to reassure but I knew the directors would retake.
"Klaus is rough, the script specifically says that-" I argued
"I'm not though and I don't care what the script says, it's not like they can fire me this late. So I'll be gentle and I'll take care of you." He told me firmly and I could only nod.
I looked as though nothing had happened by the time I was back out there. Cameras rolling, zooming in on us, I could feel them. But Joseph made sure I could feel him there too, sometimes when I looked at him during a scene I just saw him as his character but in that moment I knew it was just us, no Klaus just Joseph.
So when our lips met I let it be our lips, his hands on my body and my body only. Not who I was supposed to be. When my top was lifted from my body and his eyes looked into mine I knew what he was asking. When his hands popped the button on my jeans and slid them down my legs, I knew his intentions weren't to push me just to guide me. His touch encouraged me to return the favour, plucking his clothes from his skin like feathers from a bird. Like the feathers that covered is shoulder.
My fingers touched the tattoo, stroking it softly as his hands slid up to my waist and warmed my skin. I could faintly hear the camera crew calling cut as the scene faded out of picture.
But he didn't just leave me vulnerable and alone on the set. He didn't pull his clothes back on and go off laughing with the guys.
He rubbed my arms like he had earlier and asked if I felt okay and I did. His smile reached my heart and the kiss to my cheek somehow felt more intimate than the way his tongue had pushed at my lips moments ago.
A blanket from the set was wrapped over my shoulders as he lead me away and kept talking to me, just being there for me.
He made me feel safe; comfortable.
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httpiastri · 8 months ago
Text
yours – op81
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love is tough, but oscar makes it easy.
genre: fluff, angst/comfort
pairing: oscar piastri x reader
warnings: mentions of anxiety and commitment issues
author's note: hello hello! this is based on this song that i first heard at my sixth grade graduation. hope you enjoy. 💓
f1 masterlist
‎‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎
"do you really have to go?"
oscar's voice echoes from inside your bedroom all the way out to where you're standing in the hallway. you shoot one last glance at yourself in the mirror before stepping into your heels, letting them click against the floor as you walk back to the entrance of the room your boyfriend is in. he's staring up at you with his puppy-like eyes, his back resting against the headboard and his lower body covered by the duvet.
you nod, a small pout appearing on your lips. "i really do. attendance at the seminar is mandatory," you hum, leaning against the door frame.
"does your professor not care that your darling finally has a day off and needs cuddles?" he sighs, a playful frown on his face.
"unfortunately not. however," you start, walking over to him and sitting on the edge of the bed. "i'll be back in just a few hours. and then, i'll cuddle you so much that you'll get through next week without any cuddles at all."
oscar shakes his head. "not possible. there's not enough time in the world for that." you roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him. "i think i'll need some kisses to survive until you get back, though."
you chuckle, leaning forward and letting your lips brush against his. your hand moves down to his neck, your thumb drawing little circles into the skin, before your fingers pull softly on his lowest strands of hair. his own hands land on your hips, lifting you up and into his lap, his sudden actions drawing out a small yelp from you. when you part from the kiss, you use your free hand to squish his cheeks together.
"you scared me," you scold, giving his cheeks one last squeeze before using the hand to adjust your skirt.
but oscar doesn't say anything. when you look up at him again, you find his big eyes staring right into yours, contentment written on his face. you raise an eyebrow at him, but he only smiles back. "you know what?" he asks, and you shake your head. "i love you."
although it's not the first time he's uttered those words to you, his words still bring a slight blush to your cheeks. but no matter how much you'd like to, you don't answer him.
you wish you could say something; that you loved him too, that you're his and only his, or that you've never felt this strongly for anyone before. but you just can't. you're so scared of being vulnerable – not just with him, but in general – and you're so scared to admit that you're falling for him.
because falling for him means that losing him will hurt way worse.
the weight of your unspoken emotions lingers in the air, leaving a bittersweet tension between you. in the silence that follows his words, your eyes never look away from his, and you hope he can decipher the unspoken words in your gaze – just like he usually can. maybe one day, courage will grant you the ability to vocalize what your heart truly feels. but for now, it's like your mouth is taped shut.
"you don't have to say anything, you know," oscar says, interrupting your train of thought.
he understands. he always does.
now it's his time to caress your cheek with one of his hands. a smile spreads across your lips and you lean forward to hug him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. he squeezes you close, hoping you'll feel the warmth and comfort he's trying to send your way.
"i'll hury out of class as soon as it ends," you tell him, giving his lips one last peck before standing up from the bed.
his touch lingers on your skin when you make your way to the door. "i'll be counting the minutes until you're back," he whispers, his voice filled with a mix of longing and affection. with one last glance over your shoulder, you meet oscar's gaze, finding solace in the warmth of his brown eyes. and when you step out into the hallway, you leave the comfort of his embrace behind but continue carrying his love with you.
you already can't wait to be back in his arms.
‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎
working the late shift sucks.
you hate getting home late, you hate having no time to study and being too tired to even cook a light meal. and tonight, work has been particularly hard.
your boss had been in a bad mood, which resulted in everyone else suffering, too. and besides making your workplace feel like a living hell, she also gave you some extra paperwork to finish at home.
so, to say that you are exhausted when you finally enter the front door of your apartment tonight is an understatement.
you kick off your shoes and throw your coat into the wardrobe with a heavy sigh. as you're stomping off to your bedroom, you gather your last drops of energy to make it all the way bed, and you're just about to turn the lights on in your bedroom when something catches your eye.
oscar is lying in your bed, his head resting atop your pillow as soft snores pass through his lips. as your eyes begin to wander through the room, you notice that the bedside lamp is turned on, a sticky note pressed to it. you make your way towards it, steps much softer than before, hoping to let the sleeping beauty stay asleep. when you reach the bed, you pick up the piece of paper, holding it up to your face.
‎‎ ‎‎
hey baby,
i know you're working late and i wasn't sure if you ate before or not, so i made dinner for you. it's in the fridge. i hope you had a good day, and if not, wake me up if you want to talk about it. or wake me up if you want to just exist and not talk. anything is fine by me.
love,
oscar.
‎‎ ‎‎
by his name sits a small, uneven heart, making the corners of your mouth pull upwards. you put down the note again and turn off the lamp before lifting the duvet, lying down and scooting close to him. with a soft sigh, you rest your head on his chest and drape an arm across his body.
you know oscar means a lot to you, and you know you want nothing but to be with him. but, just the thought of discovering exactly how much he means to you frightens you.
every little action and every single word of his makes you fall deeper for him. every day, your feelings grow stronger. now, it's just about finding strength in yourself to talk to him about it.
"i..." you start, voice as silent as you can possibly make it. "i think... i think i'm ready for love."
oscar's eyes remain closed, his breathing still slow and heavy, but one of his arms instinctively wraps across your lower back and squeezes you close. it's like a silent, unconscious message that he understands, and your heart almost bursts out of your chest.
‎‎ ‎‎
the room is almost completely dark, the only source of light being the thin streak from the full moon on the night sky passing through the curtains. the moon and the stars are all reflected in the tears falling down your cheeks, the ones that had left your eyes before you had even noticed that you were crying.
your body is heavy, like weights are pulling you down into the mattress, but you need to sit up. you need to do something, anything.
you press your hands into the bed, lifting yourself up to a sitting position. you pull your legs up to your body, hugging them tightly as you exhale a light sob. closing your eyes and pushing the palms of your hands to your eyelids, you try your best to clear your mind from the scenes of your nightmare. but they are replaying themselves over and over, and you stand no chance. they're clouding your thoughts, they're taking over, they're too much, you're drowning in them-
suddenly, there's a rustle next to you in bed, and you jump. opening your eyes, you turn to the side – only to instantly realize that there's no reason to be scared when you see oscar's eyes blinking up at you.
"love?" he whispers, one of his hands helping him sit up while the other tries to rub some sleep out of his eyes. "are you crying? what's wrong?"
you can't speak. as you look up at him, the dream you'd just dreamt starts feeling so very real again, and there's a sharp pain in your chest. breathing is getting harder, and for every breath you try to take, the pressure in your chest increases. the tears won't stop spilling from your cheeks down onto the bed.
"hey, you need to breathe." he wipes away a couple of tears with his thumb, making sure to make his own breathing louder for you to follow him. it takes a few moments, but under his soft touch you always feel like you can relax and eventually, you can breathe almost normally again. "please talk to me, sweetheart. what's wrong?"
you look up at him, into his worried eyes, but regret it instantly and look away again. "i..." your eyes roam across the room, never focusing or staying on anything. "i had a bad dream."
oscar remains quiet, not sure what to say. he nods slowly.
"i... thought i'd lost you..." you say under your breath, so low that he doesn't hear you.
"what was that?"
you sigh. "i dreamed that i lost you. that you weren't here for me anymore, that-" you halt, unsure whether or not to keep going. you pull a hand through your hair, finally looking back at him. "that you didn't love me anymore."
he nods once again. "and that made you feel like this?"
you sniffle and dry some of your tears from your eyes with the blanket. "yeah." you shrug. "i don't know, i just... want to be your everything." closing your eyes again, you cover your face in your hands. "god, i'm falling apart."
the worst part about the dream was the realism of it. you've got a feeling that it's a reflection of the near future, and you loathe the thought of accidentally forcing oscar to stay with you. you don't want him to feel like he can't leave you, as you're sure it's hard for him to stay with someone who doesn't give as much love as he does. you just don't want to be a burden, but your mind keeps telling you that you are just that – and that this will be the end of you two.
but without warning, oscar takes a hold of your waist, pulling you into his lap and embracing you tightly. "feeling like this doesn't mean you're falling apart," he says. "and i promise you," he pulls away just enough for him to be able to look at your face properly. "you are my everything. and more."
you answer with a smile, burying your face in his neck. "i'm yours."
"what was that?" he teases.
you lean up to give his lips a chaste kiss before resting your forehead against his. "i'm yours."
and suddenly, the room doesn't seem as dark anymore.
‎‎ ‎‎
"honey, i'm home!" you holler before closing the front door behind you, stepping out of your shoes and hanging up your coat in the wardrobe. you don't need to hear your boyfriend's answer to know that he's still in your bedroom. or, more specifically, cuddled up in your sheets.
waddling into the room, you find him lying on his stomach, his laptop propped up in front of him. "i think i found a good movie," he cheers, eyes moving up to where you're standing by the doorway.
"they didn't have your favorite chocolate croissant, so," you begin, holding up the paper bag from the bakery. "i got three other kinds, just to make sure you like at least one."
"you didn't have to do that."
you smile and sit down next to him on the bed, laying down the bag by the computer before taking oscar's face into your hands. "you're the best, you deserve it." you lean down to give him a quick kiss before looking at the computer. "what movie is it?"
"it's called..." he quickly glances at the laptop's screen. "grease?"
your mouth flies open. "you haven't seen grease?!" he shakes his head quickly, and your surprised look turns into a grin. "you dork..." you ruffle his hair with both of your hands. "it's really good, let's watch it!"
he doesn't say anything back; he merely looks at you, a huge smile on his lips as his eyes wander across your face. you chuckle.
"what is it?"
"nothing," he says, reaching up with one hand to brush a few strands of your hair out of your face. "i just love you so much."
you smile back at him, leaning down to kiss him yet again. "but not as much as i love you."
there it was. those three words, the ones you'd been so afraid of, the meaning behind them that had worried you so much – and here you are, saying them like it's the easiest thing in the world.
oscar tries to play it cool, but on the inside, he's barely even believing his ears. "are you sure?" he asks, and you nod immediately.
"i love you." one more kiss. "i love you." one more. "i love you."
"get down here so i can cuddle you already," he says, his hand impatiently patting the space next to him on the bed. how could you ever say no to that?
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atlasthegreatest · 1 month ago
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A Night Out / Tara Carpenter x Male Reader
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You would think dating for Tara would be easy, right? Wrong. Being asked out on a date by Y/n — the guy she'd been seeing for months was all she wanted to do. But it seems her extremely overprotective sister had other ideas.
Word count: 4056
A/n: This one was requested by @jacenradio7 I hope you enjoy it!
Tara paced in front of the mirror, smoothing down her dress for the third time in the last ten minutes. Tonight was supposed to be a simple dinner date with her new boyfriend, Y/n. It had only been a few weeks since they’d started dating, and things were going great. The problem? Sam.
Her older sister had a habit of scaring off anyone Tara ever dated. And this time, Sam had insisted on meeting Y/n before "anything got too serious."
Tara groaned internally, already bracing for what was about to happen. Y/n had no idea what he was walking into, and she wasn’t sure she could protect him from Sam’s interrogation.
As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. “Tara, you ready?” Sam called from the hallway.
“Yeah, one second!” Tara took a deep breath, grabbing her purse and heading out of her room. She opened the door to find Sam leaning against the wall, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.
“Relax, Sam. Please don’t scare him off,” Tara pleaded, giving her sister a look.
“I’m not going to scare him. Just… making sure he’s the real deal,” Sam replied with a smirk. “You’re my little sister, and I need to know he’s not some weirdo.”
Tara rolled her eyes but followed Sam downstairs, dreading the inevitable. Y/n was already waiting at the door, flowers in one hand and the other hand in his pocket, looking a bit too relaxed for someone about to meet Sam Carpenter.
“Hey,” he said with a bright smile when Tara appeared. He then extended the flowers to her. “These are for you.”
“Hey,” Tara responded, her nerves easing slightly at the sight of him. “Thanks.” She said, smelling the flowers with a small smile. He had a calming effect, always so laid-back, but she doubted even Y/n could stay that cool around Sam.
Y/n turned to greet Sam, offering a polite nod. “You must be Sam. Tara told me a lot about you.”
Sam eyed him for a moment before speaking. “Good to know. I hope most of it was flattering.”
Tara shot Sam a warning glance, but Y/n didn’t seem phased. “Only the good stuff. Protective older sister and all,” he said, his easygoing smile never faltering.
“Protective is an understatement,” Tara muttered under her breath, earning a chuckle from Y/n and a side-eye from Sam.
“Alright, let’s get to the point,” Sam said, motioning for everyone to sit down in the living room. “I just have a few questions for you, Y/n.”
“Sam—” Tara began, but Sam held up a hand, cutting her off.
“No, no. I’m sure Y/n can handle it,” she said with a pointed look.
Y/n sat down on the couch next to Tara, looking more amused than nervous. “Fire away.”
Sam leaned forward, elbows on her knees, as if preparing to interrogate a suspect. “So, how did you two meet?”
Tara winced. This wasn’t so bad yet, but she knew it was coming.
“We met through some mutual friends at a party,” Y/n answered easily. “I thought she seemed pretty cool, so I asked her to hang out.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “And you’ve been dating for how long?”
“A few weeks now,” Y/n said, his tone calm and friendly. “We’ve been taking things slow.”
Tara appreciated how collected he was, but Sam was far from done. “And what are your intentions with my sister?”
There it was. The dreaded question. Tara could feel her face heating up, but Y/n didn’t miss a beat.
“My intentions?” Y/n repeated with a chuckle, glancing at Tara before looking back at Sam. “I like Tara. I think she’s smart, fun, and has a great sense of humor. I just want to spend time with her, get to know her better, and see where things go. No pressure, no games.”
Tara’s heart fluttered at his response. It was honest, and she could tell he wasn’t just saying it to appease Sam. He meant it.
Sam, however, wasn’t quite convinced yet. “No games, huh? Because if I find out you’re messing with her, I won’t hesitate to—”
“Sam!” Tara interrupted, glaring at her sister. “Seriously, enough. I’m not a kid anymore. I can handle myself.”
Sam’s expression softened just a bit, but she wasn’t ready to back down. “I know you can, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to look out for you. That’s my job.”
Y/n gave a small nod. “I get it, Sam. Really, I do. I’d probably be the same way if I had a sister. But I promise, I’m not here to hurt Tara.”
Sam stared at him for a few more seconds, clearly trying to decide if she believed him. Finally, she leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. “Alright. But I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
Tara let out a sigh of relief, feeling the tension in the room ease up slightly. “Okay, interrogation over. Can we go now?”
Sam smirked, clearly satisfied with herself. “Fine. You can go. But be back by 11.”
“Sam,” Tara groaned, rolling her eyes.
“Okay, fine. Midnight. And don’t make me regret it.”
Tara quickly grabbed Y/n’s hand and pulled him toward the door before Sam could change her mind. “Thanks, Sam,” she called over her shoulder, practically dragging Y/n outside.
Once they were in the car, Tara let out a long breath. “I’m so sorry about that.”
Y/n laughed, shaking his head. “It’s all good. I kind of expected it, honestly. She just wants to make sure you’re okay.”
“Yeah, but sometimes she’s too much,” Tara replied, though her irritation was starting to melt away. “I appreciate that she cares, but she doesn’t have to scare everyone off.”
“I wasn’t scared,” Y/n said with a grin. “I actually think it’s cool that she’s so protective. It means she cares a lot about you.”
Tara looked at him, surprised by how well he handled everything. “You’re… really not fazed, are you?”
“Nope,” he said confidently. “Besides, I’m not going anywhere.”
Tara smiled, feeling her nerves from earlier completely disappear. Maybe this was exactly what she needed—someone who could handle her overprotective sister and still want to stick around.
As they drove off for their date, Tara felt lighter. Sam had done her usual interrogation, but for the first time, Tara was sure that Y/n would pass the test.
—————————
As they drove toward the restaurant, Tara’s nerves finally began to settle. Y/n had passed Sam’s interrogation with flying colors, and she couldn’t help but feel relieved that, for once, her sister hadn’t scared off her date. The car hummed softly beneath them as the city lights blurred by, casting a warm glow on the evening ahead.
“So, how traumatized are you after that?” Tara asked, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she glanced over at Y/n.
He let out a soft laugh, keeping his eyes on the road. “On a scale from 1 to 10? Maybe a 4. Sam’s tough, but I get why she’s like that.”
“I think you’re the first guy who’s ever said that,” Tara admitted, shaking her head. “Most of them don’t come back for a second date after meeting her.”
“Well, they clearly don’t know what they’re missing,” Y/n replied smoothly, giving her a sidelong glance that made her heart skip a beat.
Tara smiled, grateful that he didn’t seem shaken by Sam’s protective behavior. She knew her sister meant well, but sometimes it felt like overkill—especially when it came to dating. She wanted to believe that Sam trusted her, but after everything they’d been through, Tara understood why she was always on guard.
As they pulled up to the restaurant, a cozy little Italian place with twinkling lights strung above the outdoor seating, Y/n parked the car and turned to her. “Ready for some carbs and wine?”
“Always,” Tara replied with a grin. “I’ve been craving pasta all week.”
They stepped out of the car, and Y/n quickly moved to her side, his hand finding hers in a casual, easy gesture that felt completely natural. Tara’s heart fluttered again, realizing how comfortable she already felt around him. It was rare for her to connect with someone so effortlessly.
Inside the restaurant, the warm glow of candles and the soft hum of conversation created a cozy, intimate atmosphere. They were seated at a small table near the back, away from the hustle of the busier sections. As soon as they sat down, Y/n reached across the table, his fingers brushing lightly over hers.
“I’m really glad you convinced me to stick around after Sam’s third degree,” Y/n said with a grin, his hand resting on hers. “I thought I was walking into some kind of trial.”
Tara laughed, her earlier nerves fully replaced by a sense of ease. “Honestly, I think you handled it better than I did. I usually end up apologizing for her five times before the night’s over.”
“Well, you don’t have to apologize for her. She’s just looking out for you,” Y/n said, his expression softening. “I respect that.”
Tara tilted her head, studying him. “You really don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” he replied, squeezing her hand gently. “It just makes me want to stick around even more.”
For a moment, Tara was speechless. No one had ever responded to Sam’s protectiveness like this. Most guys ran in the opposite direction, but Y/n was different. He wasn’t intimidated, and he didn’t seem bothered by the idea that Sam would always be watching over her. In fact, he seemed to understand it.
“So, tell me,” Y/n said, breaking the comfortable silence. “What’s it like having a sister like Sam?”
Tara smiled at the question, leaning back in her chair. “It’s… complicated. On one hand, she’s my best friend. She’s been there for me through everything, especially after what happened in Woodsboro. But on the other hand, she can be… a lot. She’s always worried about me, always trying to protect me. I know she means well, but sometimes it feels like she’s waiting for something bad to happen.”
Y/n nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his water. “I can imagine that’s tough. But you’ve been through a lot together. That kind of bond doesn’t just disappear.”
Tara appreciated his understanding. It wasn’t often that someone outside her family truly got what it was like to live in the shadow of everything they’d experienced. “Yeah. It’s a weird balance between loving how much she cares and wanting her to back off a little. But, honestly? I wouldn’t trade her for anything.”
“That’s good to hear,” Y/n said with a smile. “Because from what I’ve seen, she’s a pretty great sister.”
“She is,” Tara agreed, her heart swelling with affection for Sam, despite the frustration she sometimes felt. “She’s just… Sam.”
“And I can handle that,” Y/n said confidently.
Tara felt a rush of warmth at his words. Y/n wasn’t just sticking around despite Sam; he seemed to genuinely respect her and what she meant to Tara. That was a new experience, and it made her feel even more certain that she was on the right path with him.
Their conversation shifted to lighter topics as they ordered their food. Tara found herself laughing at Y/n’s jokes and stories, completely wrapped up in the moment. By the time their plates arrived, she realized that, for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t looking over her shoulder, waiting for something to go wrong. She was just… happy.
“So,” Y/n said after a few bites of his pasta. “What’s the next hurdle? Is there, like, a family meeting where I have to win over your cousins or something?”
Tara laughed, shaking her head. “No, I think you’ve survived the worst of it. Sam’s the main gatekeeper.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” he teased, but there was a softness in his eyes as he spoke. “I’m really glad I got to meet her. It makes me understand you a little better.”
Tara felt her heart skip again at his sincerity. “I’m glad, too. And I’m glad you’re not running for the hills after tonight.”
“Not a chance,” Y/n said, his voice firm. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”
Tara’s smile widened as she looked at him, realizing that, for the first time in a long time, she felt like things were falling into place. Y/n wasn’t just another guy who would come and go—he was someone who understood her, someone who was willing to embrace her life, complications and all.
As they finished their meal and lingered over dessert, Tara couldn’t help but feel hopeful. Maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something real.
By the time Y/n walked her back to the door later that night, the air was crisp and cool, a perfect contrast to the warmth she felt inside. They stood on the porch, neither of them quite ready to say goodnight.
“I had a great time tonight,” Tara said, her voice soft.
“Me too,” Y/n replied, stepping closer. He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “So, when’s the next date?”
Tara grinned, her heart racing. “How about next weekend?”
“It’s a date,” he said, leaning in to kiss her softly.
As their lips met, Tara felt a sense of peace wash over her. She wasn’t sure what the future held, but right now, with Y/n, she knew she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
—————————
It was well past midnight, and Sam Carpenter sat on the couch, the dim glow of the TV barely lighting up the room. The house was quiet, except for the occasional hum of the fridge. She stared blankly at the screen, though she wasn’t really paying attention to the old horror movie playing in front of her. Her mind was somewhere else entirely—on Tara.
She had heard her sister come in about fifteen minutes ago, quietly tiptoeing to her room, probably to avoid a confrontation or further questioning. Sam couldn’t blame her. After the intense interrogation she’d put Y/n through earlier, Tara was probably relieved to have escaped unscathed.
Sam smirked a little, recalling how Y/n had handled himself. He hadn’t flinched or tried to sweet-talk his way out of her questions. He had been calm, respectful, and, surprisingly, genuine. That was new.
She sighed, leaning back against the couch. A part of her knew she was overbearing—hell, Tara told her as much all the time. But Sam couldn’t help it. After everything they’d been through, the idea of her little sister getting hurt again terrified her.
Y/n seemed different, though. For the first time, Sam didn’t get that sinking feeling in her gut when she looked at the guy sitting across from her. He was careful with Tara, in a way that didn’t feel fake or rehearsed. And Sam respected that, even if she didn’t fully trust him yet.
She shifted on the couch, running a hand through her hair. Letting go wasn’t easy for her. It hadn’t been since they’d survived Woodsboro. Since then, Sam had taken on the role of protector, whether Tara wanted her to or not.
But tonight had been a little different. Seeing the way Tara had smiled at Y/n, how happy she seemed, made Sam wonder if maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to be on guard all the time. Maybe Y/n wasn’t like the others.
Still, old habits died hard.
Sam grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, the sudden silence filling the room. She stood and headed toward her bedroom, pausing for a moment at Tara’s closed door. For a brief second, she considered knocking but decided against it.
Instead, she whispered softly to herself, “I just want you to be happy, Tara.”
With that, she walked down the hallway and into her room, hoping that maybe, for once, things might be okay.
Bonus chapter:
The following weekend, Tara found herself counting down the hours until her next date with Y/n. After their unforgettable night at the park, anticipation bubbled in her stomach. She had spent the week gushing to her friends about Y/n and their blossoming relationship, but now it was time to see him again.
As she stood in front of her closet, surveying her options, she could hear Sam’s footsteps approaching. She knocked lightly before entering, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. “What’s the occasion? Are you getting ready for a runway show?”
“Ha, very funny,” Tara replied, rolling her eyes as she tossed a shirt back into the closet. “I’m trying to find the perfect outfit for my date with Y/n.”
Sam leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “So, what’s the plan this time?”
“We’re going to this cool outdoor movie screening,” she said, feeling her excitement grow. “I can’t wait to watch Jaws under the stars.”
“Nice choice. That movie freaked me out as a kid,” She admitted, smirking. “You know, the ocean is a scary place.”
“Oh, come on! It’s a classic. Plus, it’s just a movie!” she laughed, trying to dismiss her fears. “You really need to lighten up.”
Sam grinned. “If you keep dating Y/n, I might have to watch Jaws again just to get in the mood.”
Tara chuckled, but then her expression turned serious for a moment. “You know, it means a lot that you’re supportive about all this. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course,” She replied, her tone sincere. “Just remember to keep your phone on in case you need me. I’ll be keeping an eye on the time, just in case.”
“I’ll be fine, I promise,” Tara assured her, but deep down, she appreciated her protective nature. It was comforting to know she cared.
After selecting a casual yet stylish outfit, Tara completed her look with a pair of comfortable sandals and a denim jacket, ready for a cool evening. She grabbed her phone, double-checking the time before heading downstairs.
When she stepped into the living room, she saw Sam flipping through channels. “You look great,” She said, glancing up. “Have fun tonight!”
“Thanks! I will,” she said, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. “I’ll text you when I get back.”
As Tara left the house, she felt a rush of freedom wash over her. The evening was hers to enjoy, and she couldn’t wait to share it with Y/n.
The drive to the outdoor venue was filled with laughter and music. When she arrived, she spotted Y/n standing by a food truck, scanning the area for her. The moment their eyes met, his face broke into a wide grin, and Tara’s heart soared.
“Hey, beautiful!” he called out, waving her over.
“Hey!” she replied, her excitement bubbling over as she walked toward him.
Y/n handed her a small tub of popcorn, his eyes sparkling. “I got you your favorite! I remembered,” he said, beaming.
Tara smiled back, feeling touched. “You’re amazing. Thank you!”
They settled onto a blanket in front of the large screen, the sun slowly setting, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and orange. As the film started, Tara leaned against Y/n, their shoulders touching comfortably. She felt a wave of contentment wash over her as they shared the experience.
Halfway through the movie, Tara couldn’t help but notice how engaged Y/n was in the film. She glanced at him, noticing the way he leaned forward, his eyes glued to the screen. It made her smile, realizing how genuine he was, even in his enthusiasm for a classic horror flick.
As the infamous music cue began to play, signaling a shark attack, Tara let out a small gasp, clinging to Y/n’s arm. “Oh no, not again!”
Y/n laughed, glancing down at her. “Just remember, it’s only a movie! You’ll be fine.”
But when the jump scare hit, Tara squealed, burying her face into Y/n’s shoulder. He chuckled, wrapping his arm around her protectively. “You’re safe with me,” he whispered, sending a thrill of warmth through her.
The movie continued, and after the climax, they shared playful banter about the characters and the absurdity of the situations on screen. Tara found herself laughing freely, feeling the connection between them grow stronger with every shared joke and comment.
When the credits rolled, the audience erupted into applause, and Tara felt a surge of happiness. “That was so much fun!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Right? I had a blast,” Y/n replied, grinning. “You’ve got to admit that it’s way more fun watching it outdoors.”
“Definitely! And I can’t believe I survived the scares,” she teased.
They began to pack up their things, and as they stood, Y/n looked at her with an earnest expression. “I’m really glad we’re doing this. You’re a lot of fun to be around.”
Tara felt a blush creep onto her cheeks. “Thanks, Y/n. I really enjoy spending time with you.”
As they made their way back to the car, Tara’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to see a message from Sam.
Sam: How’s it going?
She smiled, knowing she was likely keeping tabs on her.
Tara: It’s great! Just finished the movie. I’ll be home soon!
Sam replied almost instantly.
Sam: Good! Remember, I’m always just a text away. Don’t let him get any ideas!
Tara chuckled, shaking her head.
“Everything okay?” Y/n asked, noticing her amused expression.
“Just my sister being protective, as usual,” she explained, laughing lightly. “She wants to make sure I’m safe.”
“Can’t blame her. Siblings can be tough,” Y/n replied, nodding in understanding. “But you seem to handle it well.”
“Most of the time,” she admitted. “But I appreciate that she cares.”
As they reached the car, Tara’s heart raced at the thought of spending more time with Y/n. Once they were inside, the conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on everything from their favorite music to their dream travel destinations. The chemistry between them felt palpable, and Tara couldn’t help but feel that this night was just another step forward in their relationship.
When they finally arrived back at her house, Tara turned to Y/n, her heart pounding. “Thank you for an amazing evening. I had a lot of fun.”
“Me too,” he replied, leaning closer.
Their gazes locked, and in that moment, the world around them faded away. Tara leaned in, and Y/n met her halfway, their lips brushing softly before deepening the kiss. It felt electric, filled with the promise of more moments like this one.
When they pulled apart, both breathless, Tara felt a rush of exhilaration. “Goodnight, Y/n. I can’t wait for our next date.”
“Goodnight, Tara,” he replied, his smile lighting up the night. “I’m already looking forward to it.”
As she stepped out of the car and walked to the door, she glanced back to see Y/n waving. She waved back, feeling giddy as she entered her house.
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preservationofnormalcy · 2 months ago
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[My name is Meghan Hendricks, and I’m about to do something stupid.]
[I’ve scheduled my work to be sent to my superior in the federal government’s oversight committee unless I stop it in one week. A dead woman’s hand. It’ll be somewhat fruitless - I’ve begun to suspect that my work will be restricted, censored, and buried like most other things the Office does.
A lot of the people I talk to are exculpatory of the Office, even if they say they have questions or concerns. I think most of them mean it. I don’t think it’s brainwashing. I think in such a tighly knit community as the supernatural world people feel a more genuine sense of belonging than they might otherwise. A werewolf helping werewolves is going to understandably try and defend the hand that deals the help, even if they’ve bit it in the past. But one thing I’ve learned as I’ve been peeling up rocks and seeing what scurries away is that something isn’t right. Something is hiding in plain sight.
Most people don’t know about it. They can feel the shape of it, the outline the absence of something makes. Some people, however, do know. At least a little. I’ve seen them avoid questions, look away, end interviews. I can see it in their eyes. They know enough to not want to know more.
All of that brings me here, to the backwoods of upstate New York. I’m dressed in all black, wearing a mask and gloves. My clothing smells of peppermint, and in my bag is a bottle of peppermint oil. It stung my eyes and, before I got the dilution right, burned my skin. I look in my car’s rear view mirror and it hits me that I look ridiculous. I don’t know for sure why the factory foreman Barry warned me about the peppermint, but I had a theory. 
For the last few minutes I’d seen the shape rising into the air, the metal tower with red lights up its length. That was where I needed to be. The highway was thankfully bare, at this time of night. As was the turn-off onto an unmarked gravel road, only distinguishable by the Office’s symbol on a plastic sign, held up on a thin metal spike. I’d learned by now that the broader public couldn’t see the Office logos and signage until they’d been exposed to the extranormal, something the Office calls “memetic masking.” I was, in their terminology, memetically inoculated, and it was that fact that ironically helped me find the path. The gravel road went into the forest, but I pulled over past the road’s entry, into the small area of grass down past the turnoff. I pulled a tarp from my car and threw it over the vehicle, once again feeling ludicrous…and frankly, a little scared. 
The hike was about twenty minutes, mostly uphill on a gentle incline, the numbers station being built on a hill. I’d done worse, but not in a while. I could see pretty well in the light of the full moon, a fact that made me a little more nervous. I walked along the edge of the gravel road, in the dark - hiking onto a government facility, my nerves went wild. Every shift of leaves meant an agent clad in camo, every whip of wind causing a noise that made me think of the things I’d seen since I began this assignment. Not this assignment, I had to remind myself. This wasn’t part of it. Not really.
I saw the fence in the distance first - an eight foot chain link fence that stretched as far as I could see in either direction. Past the fence, I could see dark buildings, giant spools of wire, and above it all the metal tower of the station. I hadn’t exactly planned for this, even though I knew it was more than likely. The handheld cutters in my back pocket were ready, but something in me didn’t want to cut the links, even if I fully intended to pass the fence. Getting in some other way could be a blunder, accidental. Cutting the chain meant intent.]
C] 1 15 12 24 2 12 12 21 16 26 1 15 12 22 21 19 6 26 2 25 3 16 3 22 25
[The voice almost made me vomit. I spun and saw a man. Disheveled, haggard, an unkempt beard and long hair. Older, in his 50’s, but being dirty and ragged made him look even older. He didn’t even look at me, mumbling numbers so fast I could only understand them later once I slowed them down in my recording. After his string of digits he stood there, looking at the fence, then back to me. In the moon’s light I saw his dirty, torn jumpsuit, the logo for the Office on the man’s arm and chest, along with an embroidered nametag - Cecil.]
M] Wh- who are you? What are you doing here? 
C] 4 12 25 16 23 23 12 11 22 2 1 1 15 12 23 8 25 1 22 13 2 26 1 15 8 1 18 21 22 4 26 16 1 26 9 25 22 18 12 21
[His stare was distant, vacant. It was a shock when his hand moved suddenly, pointing upward to the moon. It took me a second to realize what he was saying, and when I did, it confirmed my suspicions.]
M] Here? Now? 
C] 1 15 12 6 19 19 23 2 21 16 26 15 15 16 20 13 22 25 19 16 3 16 21 14 1 15 25 22 2 14 15 16 1
[With that, he turned and walked away. He looked back once, pausing as if making sure I was following - which, despite my better judgment, I did. I attempted to ask him some more questions, trying to understand who he was or why he was here, but he didn’t respond. Not even with his numbers. 
After a moment of walking by the fence, we walked away from it, down the hill. A steep path, rocky and unstable, that he navigated with ease. It was only after climbing down past a tree and a rocky face that I noticed “Cecil” backtracking up a few steps. A huge drainage pipe jutted out from the hillside, hidden from above by rocks and plants. A piece of wood in the pipe was the only flimsy protection, and without hesitation Cecil pulled it aside and bent over to climb inside. Here I was, in the middle of the woods, about to climb into a dirty tunnel to a strange old man’s bunker. 
I could hear a match catch fire just as I stepped down onto a concrete floor and stood up past the metal pipe. The space was small, a concrete box that ended in a pile of rubble. It must have been the entrance to an underground section of the complex at one point, but now was only a covered shelter. A camp stove, a bed, an orderly pile of refuse. He was living hard out here, but he was living. Cecil put the match into an old oil lantern and held it up to one wall. ]
C] 13 16 21 16 1 12 2 21 16 3 12 25 26 12 13 16 21 16 1 12 1 22 22 19 26 4 12 19 22 22 18 12 11 9 12 6 22 21 11
[All over the concrete wall, pasted or taped, were papers. Mainly old documents from the Office, with the Office logo watermarked on their corners. Many of them featured heavy black redaction bars. Some were torn, upside down. Cut in patterns, circled with heavy marker lines. I’d seen things like this in movies, of course. The stereotypical red string and thumbtacks on corkboard. This was different, however. When I looked over the collage I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t a man trying to figure things out. He’d already figured it out, in his own way, and this was some kind of…archive. Memorial. A reminder. I looked at him, and he looked down to the floor. In shame? Sorrow? I couldn’t tell. I scanned the wall again, trying to find some order.  
‘Numbers Station 23 Decommissioned By Order Of Reality Compliance Council.’ ‘Bulletin From Director Walker On Directive 61722.’ ‘Los Angeles–’ the last one was torn off.]
C] 26 15 12 16 26 14 22 21 12 13 22 25 12 3 12 25 26 15 12 11 16 11 21 22 1 11 16 12
M] What is all this? Who ARE you?
C] 1 15 12 23 25 16 21 10 16 23 8 19 16 1 6 4 16 19 19 8 3 12 21 14 12 15 12 25
M] Listen, I – I don’t want numbers. Can you speak?
C] 15 16 26 13 2 1 2 25 12 16 26 2 21 18 21 22 4 8 9 19 12 8 21 11 1 15 2 26 16 21 13 16 21 16 1 12
M] You used to work for the Office…at the numbers station? This numbers station? Is that why you can only –
C] 4 12 18 16 19 19 12 11 25 12 8 19 16 1 6 1 22 26 1 22 23 15 16 20
[I must admit to some frustration. I scan the wall again. None of it made sense. Clearly it did to Cecil, otherwise he wouldn’t have saved all of this. Was the numbers station related to…what happened to my brother? Phrases leap out at me: ‘reality compliance’, ‘the equation’, ‘project dammerung.’ That last one was…all over. There were scraps, shreds with the phrase, but all of it redacted.]
M] What is this? Project Dammerung? 
C] 2 19 1 16 20 8 1 12 4 12 8 23 22 21 13 22 25 1 15 12 2 19 1 16 20 8 1 12 13 12 8 25
M] I don’t…I don’t have time for this. You know why I’m here. Are you going to help me, or not?
[Cecil was silent for once, looking around hesitantly, and finally back to the floor. I give him a moment to respond, and when he remains silent, I take in a breath.]
M] Right. Thank you, Mister…Cecil. I’ll…
[He raises his hand, almost as if he wanted to grab my arm, but was too timid. Raising the lantern to a section of the wall, he gestured to a particular document, from Office Security, or O-Sec. A photo of a serious-looking Asian-American man, Corporal Han. Most of the document was blacked out. Was this a warning? I take in the wall one last time, and drop my bag so I can reach for my camera. A polaroid - no digital trail, no getting the photos developed. With a click I snapped a photo of the wall. 
A noise distracted me. I turned, and Cecil was going through my bag.]
M] Uhh…sir? Cecil? 
[He stopped, looking up at me in almost surprise, as if he’d forgotten I was even there. ]
C] 1 15 12 12 20 16 26 26 8 25 6 26 14 25 8 21 11 11 8 2 14 15 1 12 25 4 16 19 19 1 8 18 12 15 16 26 23 19 8 10 12
[He slid the bag back over to me. I couldn’t figure out what he was looking for, but it didn’t matter now. I needed to get out of there. I put the camera back in, quickly checking that nothing was missing, and backed up towards the pipe.]
M] I know you showed me this for a reason. I’ll figure out how it all adds up, I promise. 
[I enter the pipe again, leaving the old man holding his lantern.]
M] Thank you.
[When I turn away, he looks to his wall one more time. 
I emerge alone into the moonlight, attempting the climb back up the hill. Though I had more scraps of information, I was back at square one, or so I thought. When I reached the top and made it back to the fence, I saw a section of the chain link that had broken, detached from the pole nearby and bent away, covered in a bush that only kept it half hidden. This must be where Cecil still entered the facility. 
The gap in the fence opened up into what seemed to be a storage yard, the place I’d seen past the fence earlier. Piles of tarp-covered metal or wood beams, spools of wire as tall as I was. In the moonlight, I could see poles dotting the yard, cables stretched between them, each one bearing a floodlight. Though everything had been organized and put away securely, I got the feeling no one official had been here in a long time. Leaves covered most surfaces, and cobwebs shone in the dim light along the roof of a nearby shed. 
Again, it struck me that I didn’t know what I was doing. Any information or leads would be in the building past the storage yard, and surely that had better security? Cameras, keycard locks - what was I even doing here? Walking through the yard, almost lost in thought - the tower of the station rose into the night sky in the distance, red lights along its length. They almost looked like eyes along the body of some thin creature, frozen against the stars. 
And then, lights near the station building. I stood still for a moment, uncomprehending until a pair of floodlights on poles a short distance away snapped on, then the next set. The lights were turning on this way, towards me. I had seconds to react, and I did what I’d practiced. In my bag’s side pocket was a plastic bag, containing a gross mess of wet cotton balls, soaked in diluted peppermint oil. Despite my panic, I threw them in all directions, slinging a handful of them in a wide arc, and then hid before the lights were on in my section of the yard. I could hear the electric buzz of the floodlights snapping on just as I ducked behind a row of wire spools, trying to stop my racing heart.
As I debated my options - running, waiting out the lights…maybe they were on a timer? I heard footsteps approaching, crunching on the leaves and pine needles that had accumulated over the unattended years.  When they got closer, I tried to peek through the center of one of the spools I was hiding behind. I saw his uniform first, O-Sec, Office Security. A large man, built like a weightlifter - could see the black shine of a gun in his right hand and my heart leapt into my throat. It was the man from Cecil’s mural, Corporal Han. Was he the officer assigned to this site? I should have known the Office would still have security even on decommissioned stations like this.]
H] I know you’re here. 
[He stopped in a large open area, looking around at the stacks of materials around him, the sheds and tarps - all hiding places.]
H] Normally, I might blame teenagers. Kids getting a kick out of trespassing on Office property. We had one group a few months ago, teenagers. Two humans, a fae and a vampire. They all forgot their vamp friend couldn’t enter without permission. Fun night.
[He paused, letting the silence fall again. I could see him look around, eyes scanning the yard and narrowing. He sniffed the air in a way that seemed…odd.]
H] But judging by the smell…I think you know what you’re doing. You came in with an idea of what was going on. Either you’re a professional, or someone told you…
[He carefully walked, passing behind a small shed and out of my view. I panicked that I lost track of him for a moment, but then there was a sickening sound. Like flesh stripping and bones crunching, and Han’s voice hissing. Then a sound that echoed through the yard, the sound of a hand - no, a claw, grabbing onto the edge of the shed’s corrugated metal wall, digging in and tearing the metal. A shape followed it. A long maw of shining teeth, white fur. A raised canine lip in a familiar but terrifying gesture of anger and aggression, a low rumble as the muzzle raised, and smelled the air. Then, a whine, another growl, sneezing and huffing as the muzzle retreated behind the shed again, out of my view. Another crunch, a growl, and Han staggered past the shed. Haggard, sweating, panting softly, looking incensed.]
H] And if someone told you, I’m going to have a nice, long…conversation with them. 
[He tried to collect himself, catch his breath, run a hand through his hair. He pulled a bandana from a pocket of his uniform, pulling it over his mouth and nose.]
H] You have one minute. One minute until I call backup. You can hide from me, but can you run from a dozen of us? Most of them won’t have my…shortcomings. 
[My heart was pounding. My head was swimming. My fingers were going numb. I couldn’t claim innocence, not when they found out who I was. Could I make a break for it? All of the ways out seemed to be past him, and if he was what he seemed to be, it would be a short chase. It would end up better for me if I surrendered now, but what happens after that? I’d never work again…or worse.]
H] Cecil?
[Han’s voice was confused, concerned. I snapped around to watch through a gap in the spools as Cecil approached, holding a bottle. The bottle of peppermint oil. He must have taken it earlier when he was looking through my bag.]
C] 1 15 12 18 21 16 14 15 1 9 12 8 25 26 1 15 12 14 2 16 19 1 15 12 16 26 25 16 14 15 1
H] Cecil, what did I tell you about–
[Han took in a breath through the cloth, and exhaled, clearly frustrated. His voice was sharp, low, but his face softened, and there was a soft click as he put his gun away.]
H] Why the peppermint, man? You know what that does to my nose. Were you just trying to sneak around without me knowing? 
[Cecil looked at the bottle, then dropped it.]
C] 26 22 20 12 26 1 16 19 19 13 12 12 19 23 15 8 21 1 22 20 23 8 16 21
H] Are you taking your medicine? Probably not. Let’s….let’s get you back home. Not that bunker, home. 
[Cecil seemed to hesitate, but Han put a hand on his upper arm.]
H] You know you can’t be here. Come on. If you come with me to the station I’ll ask someone to bring you dinner when they come pick you up. Okay?
C] 25 12 8 19 16 1 6 4 8 26 13 22 2 21 11 4 8 21 1 16 21 14
[The older man lowered his head, but followed Han as the guard turned and walked back towards the station - but not before looking around, deciding on the row of spools I was hiding behind, and nodding, jerking his head towards the direction of the gap in the fence.
I didn’t need to be told twice. Once Han and Cecil were out of sight, I ran to the exit. I don’t remember much of the next several minutes - running a roundabout way through the forest, coming to the edge, following that until I found my car. I didn’t allow myself time to decompress. I slammed the keys into the ignition and pulled out onto the highway. 
The tears came just as it started to rain, and I drove until it became difficult to continue. I had gained nothing from this. Nothing but a panic attack and a long-lasting nightmare, a recurring dream with claws, spools of wire, and the scent of peppermint. ]
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pedroshotwifey · 1 month ago
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what about a drabble about a first date with logan who's trying so so hard to have manners and be a gentleman but he's nervous and keeps messing up and its so adorable and cute????? of course reader tells him to chill out and be his normal fucking self because that's who she likes. I felt so bad for him in a clip that's circulating on tiktok where someone says to him that he's not the kind of guy they'd take home bc that's only for good guys
Okay so I loved this so much and then I got excited ab writing Logan and it turned into more of a fic than a drabble, but here it is 😭
First time writing him so I hope it sounds alright! I did use a little something from the recent movie to add a bit of oomph to the ending. Again, thank you much for this request, it's so cute 🥰
Just realized I made it an f!reader insert, but if you want to message me, I can easily switch some things around and repost if you want a diff reader!
The Right Guy
Pairing: f!reader x Logan/Wolverine
W/C: 1.1k
Fluff/diet angst, Just a few F bombs here, nothing bad (they told me absolutely no coke)
******
You scold yourself as you check the small watch on your wrist for the tenth time in ten minutes. In your defense, the time is absolutely crawling by. Logan should be here for your first date in about five minutes, and you’re nervous as hell.
You’ve been crushing on him since you were hired at the mansion a few months ago, so since he asked you out a week ago, your stomach has been constantly swarmed by butterflies. He’s sweet, funny, carefree, but mature—and not to mention sexy as hell. You really don’t want to mess this up. 
Lucky for you, it seems that he feels the same. He tends to be a little more nervous around you, his blush more prominent when you tease him. It both comforts you and gives you confidence. He seems to genuinely like you for who you are. 
Because of that, you decided to wear your favorite dress for your date. He told you he’d be taking you to a restaurant, but didn’t get specific, so it was honestly the safest choice anyway. It’s one of those that could be casual just as easily as it could be fancy. A few well-selected pieces of jewelry can make a world of difference, after all. 
You glance in the mirror, and then back at your watch. It’s right as the long hand makes a round to signify that it’s two before seven that you hear a sharp knock at your door. You jump up from your seat, slightly startled. If anyone had been in the room with you, you'd probably be embarrassed. 
Thankfully, since you’re home alone, you ignore the scare and head for your front door. You take one more deep breath and pull on the knob to reveal your handsome date. You look Logan up and down, expecting his usual outfit—blue jeans, a white shirt, and either his leather or jean jacket. What you get instead, is a suit. You have to make a physical effort to not show your confusion. Okay, maybe you expected a nicer shirt or something—ironed jeans if he really wanted to go crazy—but a suit? 
“Oh, hey!” Unfortunately, it’s a bit harder to keep the confusion out of your voice. Don’t get it wrong, it’s nice of him to try to dress up for you, and he does look very nice, but he doesn’t look like Logan. Your eyes catch on his hair—the usual tufts you love so much look to be somewhat flattened by a gel. 
It’s while you’re distracted by this that he reveals a hidden hand holding a bouquet of flowers—your favorite, actually. So why do you feel almost…disappointed? No, that can’t be it. It’s so cute that he’s putting all this effort in for you, but you really just want the normal Logan.
“Oh, wow,” you say, trying to shake off whatever this strange feeling is. “Thank you, Logan.” 
You carefully accept the flowers and step aside to let him inside while you put them in water. It’s strange that he hasn’t said anything else yet. Wait, should you say something? No, he usually says something. There’s usually a joke cracked by now. It’s weird that he’s not, right? Ugh, maybe it’s you being weird? The awkward tension between the two of you is suffocating.
You’re almost disoriented with your overthinking as you move about your kitchen, pulling down a vase to fill with tap water. Logan, of course, notices. 
He softly clears his throat. “Everything alright?”
You set the vase down on your island and look at him, lips pursed. Should you say something? Well shit, he probably sees something wrong by now—you’re staring at him like you want to say something. Damn it. 
You open your mouth and close it again. How do you even say what you want to say though? 
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you lie. Right to his face. 
You smile and walk back to him, trying your best to ignore the expression on his face. Great, now you’re being weird, too. Why the fuck is this weird? 
You breathe out as you close and lock your door, mentally prepping yourself for what you’re really hoping will be a good date. Logan’s waiting for you next to his—
Car? 
Where the fuck is his bike? 
Whatever—it doesn’t matter, it’s fine. Everything’s fine. It’s probably just in the shop or something. 
You give him a tight-lipped smile as you walk to the vehicle, and he opens the passenger door for you. You slide into the seat and wait for him to shut the door before exhaling again. This is all very sweet, but you’ve got to say something. 
You stare at him as he gets into the driver’s seat. Again, he notices. There’s a thick, momentary silence.
“Look, bub, whatever it is, I—”
“You’re not acting like you,” you blurt. 
He stares at you for a second, but you’re pretty sure he knows exactly what you’re saying. You’re pretty sure that’s exactly what he’s trying to do. 
“Logan, you don’t have to put on this show for me,” you say as gently as you can, though it comes out maybe a tad aggravated.
He lets out a slow exhale through his nose and closes his eyes for a blink. You feel bad pointing it out, but there’s no way you can go through a whole date with this stiff act. He opens his eyes back and you offer him a sympathetic smile, your hand reaching out to cup his jaw. He leans into your touch, his own hand coming to envelop yours. 
“I want to go on a date with the Logan I already know, with his bike, and his blue jeans—you move your hand to his hair, messing it up enough to loosen the gel hold—and his crazy ass looking hair.” 
He huffs a laugh, looking at you with tired eyes. You understand how much he must have stressed over all the little details he put in for you. 
“It was very sweet of you to do all this, but you don’t need to perform for me, Lo.” 
He nods slowly, taking a moment to think over everything. “It’s been a long time since I took a chance with somebody,” he confesses, his gruff voice holding an emotion that makes your heart ache for him. “I wanted to be the right guy for you.” 
Your stomach flips. “Logan, you are the right guy for me. You’re always the right guy.” 
Before he can say anything else, you lean forward and plant a kiss on his lips. Surprise halts him for a second, but he’s quick after to reciprocate, his lips moving slowly but passionately with yours. One of his large hands snakes behind you to cup the back of your neck, the other gently tilting your chin. 
You kiss until you’re out of breath, and when you pull away, you let out an airy laugh. Despite the suit, he looks like your Logan again. Wild hair, wild eyes, pink in his cheeks. 
“C’mon, Romeo,” you tease. “Let’s get that damn jacket off and order a pizza and beer.” 
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darklydeliciousdesires · 11 months ago
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Your Touch Builds a Bonfire - A John Shelby/Reader One Shot Story.
Just a bit of John smut for my lovelies on this cold Saturday night! Enjoy, darlings :)
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Words - 1,810
Warnings - Spicy smut below the cut, minors DNI!
The way he twirls a pencil between his fingers, watching how the phalanges bend so effortlessly has you in a trance. How he makes a teacup look so small in his grasp. How the veins in the back of his hands bulge when he flexes a hand in his hair, usually when something has frustrated him to the point of anger.  
When he notices you watching, though, that fiery temper of his never fails to cool.  
He knows how much you desire him. He sees it, he’s been waiting for you to make a move, seeing how far he can go in pushing you with little instances of tease. He always finds some way to lightly touch you, whether emphasising a point, sweeping a stray few strands of hair behind your ear, or brushing fallen eyelashes from your cheek, he finds a way.  
You want his hands on you in much finer detail, though. It’s only because he’s your boss and you’re scared to lose your job that you haven’t acted upon it, just in case you’re wrong. It makes you tingle to the tips of your ears, imagining giving him the come on only for him to stare at you incredulously and state that you are mistaken over his intentions.  
Leaving your daydream behind, you turn your attention back to the typewriter ahead of you, the chaos of the bookmaker's offices soon beginning to swirl as the races kick off at various locations around the country. By the end of the day, the final race leaving the men cleared from the space to go and either celebrate or commiserate their wins or losses at the local boozer, you are still at your typewriter, John across the space at his desk, scribbling in the ledger.  
You see him exit his seat without a word, leaving the room, your fingers tapping the final letters upon the page you need his signature upon, pulling it from the typewriter and gently shaking it to dry the ink. Placing it down, you see an arm reach over your shoulder, a whiskey placed upon your desk.  
“Worked hard today, you did,” he speaks, nodding to the glass as you turn to look up at him. “I ain’t in the mood for the pub, but I am in the mood for a few drinks with my favourite.”  
He winks, and heat prickles your cheeks, busying yourself with picking up the drink and taking a big sip, attempting to bolster your confidence a little. It’s what you want, but oh! How the man makes you nervous!  
He’s too gorgeous for his own bloody good.  
“Well, since your other favourite was disappointing today, I can scarcely blame you.”  
He grins, chuckling into his glass. “Yeah, you’re much less trouble than a thoroughbred with the desire to throw his fucking jockey.” He shakes his head, sinking the rest of his drink. “Bloody animal.” He reaches for the bottle he brought with him, refilling his glass, topping yours off too. “You’re still trouble, though.”  
Your face mirrors the confusion his statement makes you feel. “I am?” 
“Oh ar, love. Definitely.”  
Your heart hammers with nervous excitement, taking a long sip of the whiskey before replying. “Why is that?”   
“Because short of diving on you, I dunno what the fuck else I’m meant to do to show you how much I want to take you to bed. If we even got that far. Believe me, I want you so badly, I’d settle for tearing off all your clothes and bouncing you on my cock while sitting in a chair down here.”  
Oh god. There they are, his intentions, delivered with every ounce of cocky confidence you should have known would leak out eventually after his tentative flirtations thus far. John Shelby can only be gentlemanly for so long, though.  
It’s time to cease the wallflower routine.  
Standing up, you don’t take your eyes off him for a long, long moment, the weight of your mutual stare enough to crack the floor below as you gesture to the seat you rose from. “I think we were the wrong way round for that to happen.”  
His mouth curls into a smirk, finishing his drink and placing the glass down, seating himself. You move to him, excitement whizzing through your tummy, gathering the soft material of your summer dress and beginning to hitch it up, John’s hands reaching for you, running up your bare legs as you manoeuvre astride him, sitting upon his thighs.  
The feeling of his hands, hands you have fantasised about for so long finally running over your skin, gripping your hips as he pulls you closer to him causes little darts of warmth to flicker through you, the heat of his hardening cock right against your apex making you tingle with want. His lips press kisses across your chest, hands moving to cup your breasts, tongue running over the half-moon of each soft orb escaping the top of your dress, his soft groan hungry, fingers moving to lower the zip.  
The fabric pools in his grasp as the dress falls from your shoulders, his lips placing ascending kisses to your neck before your mouths finally meet, an exchange of filthy, blazing, hungry need, your heart somersaulting in your chest. His mouth is so ravenous upon you, it knocks you sideways, the urgency of his desire for you, hands clasping at your back, removing your bra will easy skill, like he’s done it a hundred times before.  
He probably has.  
You feel in nothing short of a hundred percent capable, knowledgeable hands, his mouth moving to suck upon your nipple, your head tipping back as you grind yourself against his hard cock, his teeth prickling in bite upon the pebbled bud in response to that. “Fuck, these are some fucking beautiful tits.” His breath flutters hot against you, summer breezing through a spring chill, warming you to your bones, his tongue running slowly from between your breasts and back to your mouth.  
Unbuttoning his waistcoat, your hands slide beneath his braces, levering them from his shoulders, unknotting his tie and unbuttoning his crisp, white shirt, thirsting to feel the skin that lies beneath pressing against yours. His shirt flutters to the floor, his arms tightening around them as your touch tours lithe muscles encased in pale, golden freckled flesh. His hand trails down your body, reaching the cotton of your undies, the fabric dampened by your want for him.  
Pushing you back, he moves you to your feet, pupils blown with lust, gripping those soaking undies and tugging them down. Shuffling the chair forward, he lifts your leg over his shoulder, scattering kisses up your inner thigh, the anticipation making you pant, a soft gasp fluttering over your lips as his mouth meets your folds.  
A hot lick rolls through the wet of you, the light fleck of stubble adding in delicious contrast, his tongue seeking your clit and circling, flickering, evoking your wails, your hands going to his hair, nails flexing against the shaven sides of his head as you mewl in delight. Each lick has your blood running hot, sends glimmers through you, little shocks of pleasure tingling your entire core as your cries rend the air.  
He has you panting hard, each skim of his tongue over your tiny, potent little bundle making your hips rock against his mouth, his arms wound around you, one gripped to your waist, the other squeezing upon the rounded orb of your bum. His full lips close in suck around you, your legs shaking, the heat of it snapping over your bones, the pleasure biting and full-bodied, a bright burn of warmth making the coil within you tighten sharply.  
Flattening his tongue against you, he lets you get off on the wide drag of it, the tip caressing your dewy opening as your clit throbs against the press, his hand moving to begin undoing his trousers.  
“I could fucking eat your beautiful little cunt forever, darlin’, but god, I need you on my cock.” You’re so aroused, you can barely form thought as he pulls it out, and it’s thick and perfect, running it through the slick petals of your sex as you sit back astride him before feeding it into your gaping little hole, filling you with a rumbling grunt.  
White hot pleasure sizzles up your spine, ascending like a flurry of champagne bubbles, the taste of yourself upon his sensuous mouth more erotic than you could have ever imagined, moaning against his tongue as your rock back and forth upon him. The sensations of your walls being split so wide around him has bolts of pure bliss skittering through you, your tender little clit grinding against him as his hips buck up against you, pushing you back to devour your breasts with kisses, nibbles and licks.  
The way his hands tour you, stroking ever rise and curve of your body, it has you just as mindless as the delicious drag of his cock over every sweet spot within you, scraping sparks through your walls, his groans deep and rich as he paws at you with unrelenting hunger. The heat of it roars like a forest fire, the embers sizzling over your nerves as your mutual moans fill the space, bliss tumbling through you both. It’s fervid and delicious, scorching and unrelenting, everything you knew sex with John would be now playing out in an illumination of utter sin.  
His eyes are a bonfire of blue fire as he stares at you, fingers tangling in your hair, kissing you again with urgent need as his cock sends glimmers fizzing through you. It becomes even more uncontained, the power of him beneath you incredible, hands tightening upon your shoulders as he forces you down upon the rigidity of him, making you to take the brunt of every hard snap of his hips, hitting you so deep, you’re sent reeling and mindless atop him as your thighs tremble.  
Your cries reach crescendo as the stars surge forth, entire nebulas glittering into decadent light, your walls fluttering around him, dragging his release from his sweaty body, cock spilling hot into you. You’re both rendered an entwined, panting mess in the wake of it, kissing softly, hands still roaming, John beginning to chuckle.  
“Yeah,” he breathes, nuzzling your nose, “definitely the least troublesome favourite of the day.”  
You beam, your chest still heaving hard. “Want to take me upstairs and see if I can change that?” Your tongue teases the outer shell of his ear, gently nibbling the soft lobe. “I promise not to buck the jockey off.”  
He laughs loudly, locking his arms around you and carrying you to the stairs, his hand smacking against your bum a few times causing your shrieking laughter. “I suppose it’d be fun if you tried to, love.”  
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nicksolemnlyswears · 1 year ago
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HAN LUE HEADCANONS PT. 2
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pairing: han lue x waitress!reader
words: 5.2k
warnings: smut
notes: there's something about that gif that drives me crazy
PT. 1 PT.3
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-han goes with you to get your drivers license. it's funny because in the small waiting room there's a bunch of high school students and then there's you, a twenty something year old woman without a license.
-when you walk out after the practical exam he sees your grimace. han has no trouble believing you failed, until your lips stretch into a wide smile and you pull out the plastic identification from behind your back.
-han sighs in relief, kissing your cheek and muttering an 'i knew you could do it.' if he can teach you how to drive he can teach anyone to drive.
-han adores you but he rarely lets you drive his 1997 Mazda RX-7 FD. you're not stupid you know you're a terrible driver, i mean you barely passed the exam. getting your license changes nothing, you still take the bus and train whenever han is not the one driving you. like he said, it's only for emergencies.
-han decide to race one day and begs for you to come with him in the car. you're scared shitless but agree, trusting han wouldn't let anything happen to you. you make a deal that if he wins, he gets a prize. best believe that man won for you.
-the prize? you getting the nipple piercings he suggested. you had to admit that they looked sexy on other people and you like making han happy. not that he wouldn't be if you didn't get them. he'd love you just the same.
-you researched a good piercing parlor and made the reservation. han went with you for moral support and to hold your hand. he didn't mind the piercer was male or that he got to see you topless because at the end of the day you were all his.
-you laid back on the piercing chair. your chest was heaving as you internally panicked. you wanted this but the possible pain you might feel scared you. the piercer marked your nipples, had you look in the mirror to confirm that's the placement you wanted, and had you lie back on the chair again.
han held your hand and kissed your head, "look at me, baby."
he distracted you as the piercer prepped the needle, it was better if you didn't even see the long needle.
"you can't break up with me for a year, han," you half joke out of panic. you say that because it can take up to a year for it to heal completely.
"i wasn't planning on letting you go anytime soon," he says with a half smile.
the piercer gave you a heads up he was going to start. you squeezed hans hand and squeezed your eyes shut. unintentionally you held your breath, bracing yourself for the needle piercing your skin.
"baby, breathe," han tells you, using his other hand so touch your cheek and make you react. you nod, eyes still closed and take a few breaths. "good girl."
the pain stings momentarily, decreasing in intensity in waves till it's only a dull ache. with hans assistance on preventing you from fainting, both nipples are done in no time.
the piercer leaves the room so can inspect them and make sure they're what you asked for. you stand to look at yourself in the full length mirror, han behind you, looking at you through the mirror.
they looked great, you both thought so. han comes up behind you, kissing your cheek and whispering in your ear, "worth it?"
"so far," you respond with a smile.
-han can't take his eyes away from your tits from then on. often asking you to show him. whenever you wore a shirt without a bra around the house he'd go a little feral as the studs from the piercings poked through the thin fabric.
-han has trouble falling asleep, it's one of the reasons his sleep schedule is so fucked. he's lived through a lot of crazy shit in his life and has lost people along the way. those moments tend to haunt him when he's about to sleep.
-it's gotten better ever since you started sleeping over at his apartment or viceversa. he distracts himself with you, touching your skin, rubbing soothing circles on it, the smell of your shampoo as he hugs you to his chest. having you beside him distracts him enough to fall asleep, though those thoughts resurface in his dreams.
-the memory of gisele sacrificing her life for his is one of the things that keeps han up. gisele never did anything she didn't want to do, letting go of him to protect him was her choice. it doesn't mean it hurt han any less. he is the one who has to live without her.
-gisele was one of the few women han has ever loved. she was the first woman that made him want to settle down, possibly even have a family if she wanted.
-han came to tokyo as a promise he made to himself, he'd been postponing it for long enough. he thought he'd visit along with gisele, but that was not possible any longer.
-for a time han believed he was meant to be alone, so he fell into the life of a bachelor. similar to who he was before gisele. he flirted with girls and slept around with them, accepting his fate. until he met you.
-you swept him off his feet so easily. you were like a drug he became addicted to, and he'd know how that feels, considering his past nicotine addiction.
-if gisele hadn't died, he wouldn't have met you and he wouldn't have this amazing relationship. but if she hand't died he would still be with gisele, settling down in the same city. possibly equally as happy.
-both of those futures are ones he can get on board with, but han prefers not dwelling on it and accepting that things in life happen for a reason. han would find it impossible to chose between you or gisele.
-telling you about his past means telling you about gisele. you'd be in bed early in the morning not waking up but falling asleep. he'd tell you about how he met her, what charmed him about her, and their time traveling across the world. lastly, he'd tell you about her death.
-you would never dare say it out loud but in a way you're glad she did what she did because it got you han. you have a hard time imagining what your life would be like without him since he has weaved himself into it so effortlessly.
-you're intimidated by this woman. she's everything you're not. she was a secret spy who knew how to race and fight. she's the definition of badass. and here you are, a simple waitress, wanna be chef who barely knows how to drive.
-but that's the thing about han, he doesn't have a type. as long as you're a good person (according to his standards, which are very different to a normal persons) then you have an in. he loves you so goddamn much it scares him. he loves your kindness, the fiery-ness inside of you, your beauty, you personality. yes, you could be a better driver but that's what you got him for.
-he likes that you're not involved in a life of crime and that you avoid it at all costs. he loves that he's the only danger you've accepted in your life. because it means that you're safe. it means you won't fall off of a fucking plane.
-han's apartment is way more spacious than yours, because unlike you he can afford it. because of it you spend most of your time together in his home. not many people know where he lives. in fact, it might be just you.
-it happens naturally, you don't force yourself into his life. it's han's choice to keep you around and since he's the one that drives he leaves you no choice. instead of taking you to your apartment he drives to his instead. you now have a drawer full of your things in his apartment.
-one night before you head to work you're sitting on the bed, putting on your converse. han comes out of the shower, he was dropping you off and heading to the races. he stands in front of you as he checks his phone.
-he smells like your coconut and vanilla body wash. he just stands there, a towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets falling from his hair down his chest and stomach. han is the most handsome man in the world in your eyes. his warm skin tone, his attentive eyes, and soft smiles.
-with a bite of your lip you tug on the towel, pulling him between your legs. he's invested on whatever's on his phone so he doesn't notice the mischievous look in your eyes.
-you lick a water droplet falling down his abdomen and proceed to leave open mouthed kisses all over his stomach, going lower and lower till the towel stops you.
-you don't appreciate his lack of attention so you playfully nip the taught skin of his tummy.
"ow," han complains, sending you a fake glare.
you shrug and say, "your baby needs attention."
"i think she just needs my cock," he responds, tilting his head. he throws the phone on the bed, and tilts your chin up to look at you, "is that right?"
-you nod your head and bite your lip, he lets go of your chin and signals you to go ahead. with a bright smile you undo the towel on his hips, letting it fall to the floor. you grab his cock with your soft hands and stick your tongue out to lick his length base to tip. you leave a cheeky kiss on his tip, spreading the bead of precum that formed on your pink lips.
-han watches you with hooded eyes, brushing your hair back to give him a better view. he ruts his hips when you take his length into your mouth, bobbing your head. you hold onto his thighs as you hollow your cheeks around him.
-this is equally as pleasurable for you as it is for han. having his full attention on you makes you act up, it gets your panties wet.
-a quiet groan leaves him when you dip your tongue on his slit, swirling it around his mushroomed head afterwards.
-when you take him completely in your warm mouth your nose brushes against the dark patch of hair at his base. your tight throat forces han to buck his hips, wanting to go deeper. so much so tears accumulate on your lash line.
-taking control, han grabs a tighter hold of your hair and fucks into your mouth. he closes his eyes, throwing his head back in pleasure. this is what you wanted all along, to be used by him.
-his cock is hard and warm on your mouth. throbbing with each thrust into your pretty mouth. you can still smell the scent of your body wash along with the peculiar smell of sex, it's addicting.
-han looks down at you to make sure you're doing okay. you're already looking up at him, and the sight of you might make him cum alone.
-soon he feels the familiar tightening of his balls and his pace falters. "you're going to swallow my cum, baby?" he groans out. you hum around han and it throws him over the edge. one last time he pushes into your aching mouth and releases ropes of white down your throat.
-coming off his high he lets go of your now messy hair. as you pull off his cock, a stream of saliva connects the two of you. your under eyes and lashes are wet and your mouth and nose flushed, yet this is one of the most beautiful you've ever looked. teasingly you stick out your tongue showing han you swallowed it all.
-han is shameless so grabbing his discarded phone off the bed he snaps a picture of you, his cock in frame still. in the end, han catches your puffy lips in a wet kiss. the fact you just went down on him doesn't bother him in the least.
-with a quick glance at the clock you notice you're running late for work. despite the distraction, han gets you to work on time. nothing a speeding car can't fix.
-the first big fight between you and han is intense. the two of you never fight, you might argue about petty stuff but it's nothing serious. this time around is different.
-you have taken to going out with han to the club he owns on occasion. it's a time where you both have fun, drink, dance, flirt...all normal things.
-except one day you tell han you're not going because you had promised to go out with mindy. when mindy cancels, you decide to show up in han's club to surprise him. you knew he was there, seeing the orange mazda parked by the entrance.
-you go in, excited to spend time with him. you walk past the first area into the empty hallway and into the other room where han tends to hangout.
-you weave through the crowd of dancing people and spot him by the bar. you're about to call out to him when you notice two girls by his sides as he talks to a guy you don't know.
-you really try not to let it bother you but when one of the women starts whispering in his ear and you see him nodding to her words as she touches his chest, you loose it.
-tears burn your eyes, not out of sadness but out of frustration. is this what he does when you can't make it? good to know he finds a way to keep himself entertained.
-han sees you as you glare at him and turn to leave the stuffy place. at first he doesn't catch why you're glaring at him. he instantly follows you and only manages to catch up to you outside.
"baby, where are you going?"
"home," you spit angrily, continuing to walk, "have fun with your whores."
"what are you on about?" han asks, jogging to catch up to you.
you turn back on your heels and stare at him in disbelief, "what am i on about? i was excited to come here and spend time with you and instead i find you wrapped around two fake blondes whispering in your ear. its real reassuring to know you have company when i'm not around," you scream angrily, tears threatening to spill. you didn't want to cry, but your frustration couldn't be contained.
"baby, it's nothing, and nothing was going to happen," han reassures you, sighing in disbelief that you're angry about this.
"i have a hard time believing that," you scoff, rolling your eyes and looking away from him.
"why are you so jealous? i've never given you a reason to. hell, i spend all my time with you!" han argues, begging for you to look at him. he's getting angry as well at the fact you're acting so distrusting.
"god, han how do you want me to feel when i see you around them, huh? you want me to smile and let them be all over you? please, don't embarrass me that way," you exclaim, tears starting to roll down.
"i want you to understand that it's not what you think and that they are friends of mine. i love you, i would never even think of cheating on you," han says. he hates seeing you cry and he wants to go over to you and wipe your tears away but you're being unreasonable.
"and they probably don't know about me either, right? i know you like keeping your secrets," you sniff. it took sean and twinkie months to learn you even existed.
hans stays quiet, letting her know all she needs to. "right," you scoff. you wipe tear after tear away but they continue to fall. turning around you go out into the street to get a taxi.
"it's not because i don't want to. i do it to protect you," he says exasperated, "stop running away from the argument!" han calls out your name, something he rarely does. this is serious. "it's not fair."
"what isn't?" you ask, waiting for a taxi to make an appearance.
"that you don't trust me," han speaks from behind her, "i trust you completely, i don't question you when you go out with your friends."
"that's because i don't let random men all over me!" you yell again, refusing to apologize.
"they aren't random girls, they are friends. fuck, they even have boyfriends!" han screams back at you. it's the first time he raises his voice at you. he's equally as frustrated at you are.
-he doesn't even understand how the night ended up like this, screaming in the streets of tokyo. there's very few people that can make him blow up like that and he hates it.
"whatever, han," a taxi eventually pulls up and you get in it, leaving han behind.
-the next night han doesn't go over to the diner, but he does wait till you finish your shift, preferring to drive you home. the fight might've been bad but not bad enough where he'll let you go back to walking alone in the middle of the night. he still loves you after all.
-the drive is quiet and long, he's not speeding like he usually does. he's giving you time to speak or apologize but nothing comes so he plays along. the same cycle repeats for the following days, neither wants to apologize and neither wants to terminate the relationship.
-by the sixth day you're over it, you miss han, you miss his attention, his touches, his voice even. you admit you overreacted. you personally blame it on hormonal mood swings, because the following day you got your period.
-he picks you up as usual, without a word. you get into his car and try to think about what to say. you really hope you haven't ruined your relationship.
-han hears a sniffle and turns to see you trying to hold back tears.
"hey hey hey, are you okay? did something happen?" he asks softly, finding somewhere to park. he's worried something bad happened at work.
"i'm so stupid, han. please, i'm sorry," you cry, "the other night i just got so jealous. i do trust you. please, forgive me."
it feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, han can breathe properly again. "baby, i'm sorry too. i never realized how you would feel seeing me like that with others even if they are just my friends."
"i missed you," you tell him, looking into his eyes.
"i missed you, more," he responds with a soft smile.
with a trembling bottom lip, you throw yourself over the middle console to hug him. he hugs you back just as tightly, kissing your head.
"lets go home," han says.
-you guys are an adventurous couple. you find ways to spice up your sex lives on the daily. han likes to tease you...a lot. if you were going to the club, or on a date, or just drive around he'd challenge you to try to cum before you arrive at your destination.
-you accept each and every time. proping one leg on the dash of hans car (you're the only one allowed) you lift your skirt or dress up your hips and slide a hand in between your legs.
-you moan and whine are you circle your clit and dip a finger into your pussy. meanwhile han races through the streets of tokyo to prevent you from reaching your peak.
"han, i need you," you moan over the sounds of your wet center. "hannie, please." to distract him even further you push away the straps of your dress, letting it fall down to your waist, revealing your chest.
-han only spares you a glance, his pants tightening instantly at your exposed state. you clearly knows his weakness. han presses harder on the pedal to go faster.
"han, baby, i'm so close," you release a high pitched moan. your movements quicken only for your hand to be stopped by your boyfriend.
-somewhere along the way you had closed your eyes. han won this time around, having arrived at your destination.
"maybe next time, baby," han smirks, fixing the top of your dress before anyone sees you, giving your boobs a little squeeze along the way.
you sigh in frustration, letting your foot fall from the dash and closing your legs in a more appropriate manner.
"i never win this game," you huff, opening the door of the humid car.
-because han is so laid back you like to act like a brat to mess with him. i'm talking bending down in front of him, showing him your underwear or lack there of, rubbing yourself against him while you dance, or whispering dirty things in his ear while he talks to his friends.
-he'd be cool, unbothered, trying his best to ignore you until you're left alone for a second. if you're walking in front of him he'd gently pull your hair, bringing your head back as he whispers in your ear, "keep acting like that and see what happens." then han would walk off, pulling you behind him as if he didn't just soak your panties.
-in time, takashi learns about you and meets you. it's a consequence of getting more involved in han's life. he low key likes you in a friendly way. you act laid back in a similar matter to han. most importantly you don't meddle with things that don't concern you, if he has to talk business with han you're the first one to stand up and go. you're just not interested, the less you know the better. if it were up to han he wouldn't let you go, preferring to have you by his side.
-whenever he goes around han's club takashi always says hello and even buys you drinks. he likes you because you're not a foreigner unlike sean or twinkie or even han.
-surprisingly what makes you click with takashi is food recommendations. yes, the intimidating DK has great restaurant's to recommend.
-terrible news come when you find out the diner is closing. the entire staff was called in for a meeting during the day. you didn't think much of it, believing it would be a change of ownership as it's happened in the past.
-when the owner announces that they are closing from that day forward, you panic. this is your job without it you have no income. you take your time before you return to a sleeping han. you had to think and come up with a solution soon.
-back in the apartment you enter quietly knowing han is probably still asleep. you take off your shoes and trudge over to the bed, falling on it gently.
-you take in han as he sleeps peacefully, he likes to sleep on his stomach, hugging your waist, but if you're not there then a pillow will take your place, like now.
-for the most part he sleeps shirtless, because he gets hot at night. you begin tracing your fingers over his back softly, almost tickling him. han starts waking up because of your touch.
-you tell him all about the diner closing in whispers, feeling safe and calm in the confines of the bedroom. he listens quietly as you process your thought out loud. he lies back on the pillows with you pressed against his chest, tracing shapes with your fingers over his skin.
"what's the plan now?" han asks. his hand under your shirt, rubbing your back.
"find another job. tokyo is big, i'm bound to find something quickly," you shrug, pressing a kiss to his chest. it's been a long afternoon of nothing. just resting in bed and spending time with han.
"what about your dream?" he wonders.
"which one?" you giggle, knowing you talk a lot of hopes and dreams.
"becoming a chef, opening up a restaurant..." han reminds you, glancing at your face.
"it's a dream, hannie. i can barely afford my apartment right now, i can't open a restaurant," you say disappointed. owning a restaurant will never be possible for you.
"you have me, let me help you," han hums casually as if he just offered to buy you a drink at a bar.
"i can't ask that of you, han. it's too much money," you instantly refuse, propping yourself up to stare at your boyfriend.
"i want to help you, baby. i've tasted your cooking and it's one of the best things i've tried in my life. i believe in your dream," han mentions, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.
"i don't know," you say unsure, tilting your head as you overthink things. you don't want han to believe you're with him for his money.
"see it this way. i'll be your investor, when the time comes you'll buy me out," he offers an alternative, knowing that otherwise you wouldn't agree.
"are you sure?" you ask once again.
"i am," he nods, pecking your pouty lips.
"i don't deserve you," you say as a smile breaks out from your lips.
-you get to work quickly on the restaurant of your dreams because time is money and you're serious about this. this is not another project you can start and leave half way through.
-you end up buying out the space the diner used to be at. since the owner knows you, he didn't totally screw you over.
-having the space and working with architects and designers for the interior of it. you're left to work on the menu. you don't want it to be one menu for the next three years, you want it to change with the seasons and the produce that's available at those times. you want it all to be as fresh as possible.
-han takes the back seat on the whole restaurant thing, trusting you know what you're doing. he opens up an account for the restaurant where you can dip in for whatever you need.
-with the restaurant under renovation you spend your time in the kitchen, working on the menu for the opening. han would be generous enough to help you with the dishes and being a taste tester. he hates to admit he’s gained a few pounds but you love it.
-with the sudden change in your schedule you're actually sleeping at night and working during the day. but you and han make it work despite your different sleep schedules.
-han is the type of boyfriend to kiss your head whenever he has to leave and you're asleep. he does the same when he comes back late at night and cuddles up to you. just a quick peck on your forehead.
-you like when he does it, since it lets you know he's back home safe and sound. you always lift up the sheets so he can het closer to your body and spoon you.
-han gets you a pair of very expensive Opyum YSL high heels for your birthday. it's a very indulgent present, because he got them to feed into his kink of fucking you with heels on.
-one year and half into your relationship han asks you to move in with him. you barely spend time at yours anyway, if you do go there it's to do laundry. you agree but not before you have a long conversation as to what this relationship means to the two of you.
"hannie, i need to know. where do you see this relationship going?" han means the world to you and you see a future with him. you'd love to get married and have kids in the next ten years. you know you haven't been very long with him but it's something that's better to discuss now.
han takes a minute to respond as he gathers his thoughts but his answer is confident, "i don't care where it goes as long as i'm with you." whatever you want he will give you. a big wedding, small wedding, eloping, live together.
-you smile at his answer and continue to talk about your future together. you learn he wants children, two of them to be precise. in the past he didn't want any, yet as he grew older and some of his friends had children of their own he realized it wouldn't be a bad thing at all.
-han isn't one to listen to a ton of music, he doesn't have a preference either. unlike some people he likes listening to his thoughts. you on the other hand always have music blasting. since you two live together han is somewhat forced to listen to whatever you are listening to. as long as it makes you happy he endures it.
-han starts memorizing and vibing to your music in no time. often times you'll find him singing under his breath. if you leave an album in his car he might even listen to it. out of all the music you listen to he likes girl groups the most and will even go to concerts with you.
-han doesn't smoke cigarettes anymore, he hasn't in a long time but he has indulged in smoking weed on occasion. one calm night you're home, watching tv and han asks if you mind. you don't as long as he shares.
-you were asthmatic as a child and try not to be around smokers much but you'd lie if you hadn't tried smoking both weed and cigarettes in your college years.
-weed is highly illegal in japan, but han has contacts so buying it was a piece of cake. he rolls it himself, impressing you with his abilities. you sit on his lap as you pass the joint between the two of you.
-han blows rings into the air, making you giggle. some things he can't forget like the silly tricks or the burn in his lungs. you cough for the first few puff's and he thinks you're cute.
-you forgot weed made you horny so an hour and a half later you find yourself straddling han’s lap, kissing him. the taste of weed on both your tongues. you roll your hips against him, your panties soaked, getting his pants wet.
-han gets lazy when he's high so he lets you do as you please. getting it up is not a problem. discarding your underwear and undoing hans pants you ride his hard cock slowly. you relish having him deep inside of you.
-you throw your head back in pleasure and he lifts your t shirt to take one nipple into his mouth, playing with the metal bar adorning it. getting the piercing made you so much more sensitive to nipple stimulation.
-han watches you. your face scrunched in pleasure as you grind your hips against him. he lives for the show, your sweat shining pretty under the lights.
-you're on the shorter side so han is always taking things down from the cabinets for you. he lets you struggle first though seeing your as your skirt rising up, exposing your body to his eyes. han could keep his stuff on the lower shelves but he likes to feel needed by you.
-just as he is observant with others han reads you like a book. he knows what you’re feeling before you figure it out yourself, including what you feel in bed. he knows when you’re gonna cum before you do. your body gives him all the indication he needs.
pt.3
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y’all don’t know how much i love this gif. i'm an idiot that thinks he’s so fucking cool. the flipping of the bag is nothing out of this world and here i am, swooning over it.
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schoopsahoy · 2 years ago
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i’ve been dying to get you dizzy
steve harrington x roller-rink!reader {5.8k} part 2 to whip it you and steve have been casually dating for a few weeks now, he’s trying to take things slow but then you invite him to stay the night. 18+ mdni steve still being a simp for reader. fluff/smut. no use of y/n. reader uses she/her pronouns.
cw: fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex
The sight of Steve leaning against his car in the parking lot of your work is still one that makes you a little giddy. The pink and gold of the sky cascading down on him in a soft light, reflecting off his skin and dousing him in a warm glow was something straight out of a movie, the boy lit up all golden and auric as he waits for you to finish your shift. 
You practically skip over to him, holding onto the strap of your bag to keep it in place on your shoulder as you cross the warm concrete. “Hey, Stevie.” You beam, instantly throwing your arms around his neck when you reach him to pull him in for a hug. 
Steve would never admit to anyone that he lets you call him Stevie, let alone that he likes it. The way you say it always coated in affection that warms his chest. “Hey, you. How was work?” His words are muffled into your hair as he hugs you tighter, arms around your waist. 
“Looks pretty bad, sweetheart.” He frowns at the injury, hand instinctively moving to yours to run his thumb over the back of it. 
“S’pretty sore, but makes me look tough, don’t ya think?” You shrug, a little grin on the corners of your mouth. 
“S’pretty sore, but makes me look tough, don’t ya think?” You shrug, a little grin on the corners of your mouth. 
“Super tough.” He nods in agreement, mirroring your smile. Every time you two were together, Steve felt like it was a little too good to be true. Everything you said or did seemed so effortless but it still had his mind running crazy, his heart even more so. Ever since you started hanging out, away from your work or the prying eyes of his friends, he had to remind himself that it was all real and you genuinely wanted to see him. He’d made a mental note to take things slow, to not fuck this up or scare you off, but it was harder than it sounded when you were next to him all sugared up smiles and gentle touches. 
“I know I said we should go for food tonight but I’m totally spent.” You chew on the inside of your cheek, twisting your body from side to side a little and making the hem of your skirt shift higher against your thighs. “D’you want to just get a take out? You can stay over too, if you want? Save you driving back in the dark.”
Steve feels like he’s been shocked, his entire body buzzing with something - excitement, maybe? Or nerves, or a mix of the two most likely. “Sure we can, whatever you want.” He hopes you don’t notice how hard he had to focus to force the words out, praying they came out casual and not in a croak of nerves. 
“You’re the best, Stevie.” You go on your tip-toes to kiss him again, tasting like bubblegum and cherries and sweets and all the other sugary things you should have in moderation, something Steve doesn’t think he can manage with you. “And you’ll stay?” Your eyes are big and bright as you look up at him through your lashes, a hopeful smile on your face that he knows he has no chance of turning down. 
“As long as you want me to.” He gives your hand a light squeeze. 
“Of course I do, silly, S’why I offered.” You squeeze his hand back before letting go to finally make your way to the passenger side, Steve making sure he gets there first so he can open the door for you. It’s the sweet little gestures that have your heart beating faster, simple acts of devotion that seem so insignificant from the outside but are really unspoken words of so much more. 
It’s not a long drive to your place from the rink, only about 15 minutes if you get lucky with traffic. Steve’s hand finds its place on your thigh for most of the journey, his touch barely there but still comforting. You occasionally trace along his fingers, or around its outline on your skin, just mindless touches whilst you listen to him talk about his day. You think you could just sit and watch him forever, have him talk about anything and you’d listen. 
You direct Steve around the streets of your hometown, he’d picked you up from work a few times now but you usually spent your time together in Hawkin’s. Your apartment is along Main Street, a little one bed that sits above a flower shop. It’s not much, but you’d been determined to move out and be independent whilst you’re in college so you’re content with the small space you got to call your own. 
“There’s a little lot around the back of the shops you can park in, just turn down here.” You lean forward in your seat to point to the small side road, Steve nodding and following your instructions to lead you both into the car park. 
Steve pulls into the spot you point out, the one closest to the metal steps that lead up to your door. Now he’s here, in front of your place where he’s agreed to spend the night, his breathing gets a little quicker. He tries to keep it quiet, not wanting you to notice that he’s slightly freaking out. 
“C’mon handsome, the takeout won’t order itself.” You grin at him, your house keys dangling on your pointer finger along with a collection of keyrings that all jangle together and glisten in the evening sun. You open the passenger door and step out the car, standing at the bottom of the staircase whilst Steve locks his car. 
Steve takes a moment whilst locking up to try and chill himself out, a few deep breaths and words of encouragement muttered to himself. Though he’s not too sure “get it together” counts as encouragement, either way he needs to hear it. 
“I’m sorry if it’s a bit messy, I would’ve tidied up more if I knew I’d have company.” You look back to Steve as you climb the stairs, the old metal clanking with each step til you reach the top.
“You don’t have to apologise.” Steve shakes his head at you, you could open the door to a bomb site and he wouldn’t mind as long as he’s with you. 
You have to fiddle with the lock a little to get it open, the door’s pretty old and probably rusted so the key needs to be twisted and lifted at an angle to get it to work. You get it after a few tries though, and push the door open to let yourself and Steve in. 
“Ta-da.” You sing as you hold the door open for Steve, letting him step into your living room before closing it behind him. 
The flat is small, but you‘ve filled it with fresh flowers and cosy furnishings to brighten it up. Candles dotted around the room on whatever surface they can fit on, next to little ceramic and glass trinkets and photos of you and your friends. It feels like home, a space you’ve cultivated as your own that nobody can take away from you. 
Steve thinks it’s perfect, really, because he can tell it’s yours. The flowers and vanilla candles mix together so the room smells sweet, and everything looks soft and inviting. Your college books strewn across the coffee table, plush blankets hung over the arm of the couch, it was all another insight into your world that he was so desperate to be a part of. 
“I can’t believe you think this is messy.” He chuckles, looking around the room again to take in all the little details.
“Wait til you see my bedroom, then you’ll change your tune.” You shrug your bag off your shoulder and onto the floor near the door, toeing your shoes off so you’re just left with your knee high socks on your feet.
Steve can’t even bring himself to think about seeing your bedroom, that idea pushed so far back into the corner of his mind so he can remain functional. “I bet it’s fine, you’re just dramatic.” He teases, trying to play off the fact he’s still in awe about being in your home. 
“That’s true, I am.” You smile at him, no offense taken from his words because you can see the soft smile on his lips and the doting tone that always seems to be there when he speaks. “So, what d’you want? Pizza? Or there’s a Chinese not far that’s pretty good?” You pad across the room to the kitchen, the open plan layout meaning you can still see Steve as you root through one of the cupboards for menus. You hold them up when you find them, waving them in the air before you move back and hand them to him.
“You don’t wanna pick? You’re the one who’s been working all day.” He strokes the back of your hair gently with his free hand, you instantly leaning back into his touch.
You shake your head at his offer. “You’re the guest, you pick.”
Steve sighs a little, all sweetness at your offer. “Pizza sounds good. You happy with that?” 
“Mhm, pick what you want and I’ll call ��em.” You tap your nails against the menu in his hand, the vibrations running up his arm and making his hairs stand up. 
It takes you both a little while to settle on an order, going back and forth about what you both want and finding a middle ground. You keep trying to tell Steve to choose what he wants and you’ll work around that, but Steve was far more concerned about you getting what you wanted. It was a lot of talking in circles til you both eventually settled. 
Steve insists on paying when it arrives, too, despite your best efforts to at least go halves. 
“Just take the money, Steve.” You hold the dollars out to him, trying to tuck them into his pocket when he shakes his head at you. 
“Stop, stop.” Steve laughs, trying to dodge your hands whilst holding onto the pizza box. “If this falls we’ll have to do that all over again.” 
You furrow your brow a little, pouting up at the boy. “Fine, but I’m getting it next time.” You flop yourself down on the couch with a dramatic sigh, shuffling your college textbooks to one side on the coffee table so the pizza box can fit. “Oh, wait, d’you want plates?” You go to stand up again but Steve shakes his head at you.
“I’ll get ‘em, where are they?” He sets the food down and walks into the kitchen.
“Cupboard above the sink.” You call through, watching him pull a couple of plates out and bring them back to you. “You’d make a great housewife.” You grin, taking one of them off him.
“I know, thinking of changing careers.” Steve sits himself down next to you, his leg pressed against yours so you can feel the rough denim on your skin. 
“You’d look great in a frilly apron.” You lean forward to open the box, pulling out a slice of pizza for yourself and putting it on your plate. 
“Yeah, you think?” Steve grins at you and helps himself to a slice.
“Mhm, real handsome.” You kiss him on the cheek before taking a bite of your food. “And I could be the breadwinner.” 
“Oh I’m gonna be your housewife?” 
“Obviously, I get first dibs.” 
Steve smiles at you, all fondness and it makes your chest feel a little tight with how much you like it. “Yeah, you do.”
You end up watching a movie after your food, letting Steve root through the small pile of tapes that sit next to your tv set. They’re pretty old, most picked up in flea markets or taken from your family home. Most of them are horror films which makes Steve laugh, you feel like the personification of sunshine but your taste in movies is the complete opposite of that. 
“You got anything lighthearted?” He turns his head to look at you from where he’s sat on the floor, you still sat on your couch with a blanket thrown over your lap.
“I’ve got Grease.”
“So the options are scary movies or Grease?” 
“Withhold your judgment, Harrington.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest in fake upset.
“Oh I’m sorry, don’t surname me.” He pouts back at you, which makes you giggle and ruins your facade.
“Pick a film.” You wiggle your finger at the pile of tapes, Steve turning back to them again and eventually settling on Salem’s Lot.
“You gotta hit the player a little, to get it to work.” You instruct Steve, who taps the player a few times before it springs to life and starts whirring. 
He settles back down next to you, and you instantly lean your head on his shoulder. He can smell your fruity shampoo as soon as you lay it there, and leans his own head against yours. It’s comfortable, like your head was supposed to fit there in the crook of his neck. 
He tries his best to focus on the screen, but whenever you’re close to him it’s like all his senses are in overdrive and his heart is beating a million miles a minute. He hopes you can’t feel it, a dead giveaway to how you make him feel, how much he really likes you. 
It only gets worse when you start placing gentle kisses against his neck, your hand laced in his and he’s so aware of every minute movement you make. Every small inhale, the fan of your eyelashes as you blink. He thinks he might be losing it a little.
You kiss up his neck and up to his cheek, eventually nudging your nose against it so he turns his face to you. You both look at each other for a moment, eyes studying the others face and lips until he eventually leans in to kiss you.
It’s a little reserved, gentle and careful like there’s still some boundary yet to be crossed. Steve’s hand cups your face, fingers lacing into your hair as he holds you close to him. 
You press against him a little harder, lips parting slightly so he can slip his tongue into your mouth and you let out a sweet sigh from the feeling. Your arms are around his shoulders so your fingers can run through the hair at the nape of his neck. 
Steve can feel himself getting lost in it all, how soft you are and how sweet you taste, and when you shuffle so you’re sitting in his lap he’s certain he’s absolutely gone. His hands move to your waist, but he barely grips you, his touch soft and hovering over your body.
You pull away a little, keeping your face close to Steve’s so your lips still brush together when you speak. “Y’know you can touch me, Stevie? I’m not gonna break.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, all sweet and a little teasing.
Steve smiles at you, closing his eyes for a moment. “I know, I just, uh,” he lets out a small sigh, nose nudging against your own, “you make me kinda nervous.” 
You sit back a little now, still close and your fingers still combing through his hair. “What, why?” Your brows furrow slightly as you look at him with gentle concern. “Y’know I really like you, right?”
“I know, but you’re so pretty and smart and like, so out of my league.” He chuckles to try and cover the fact he’s actually wearing his heart on his sleeve, the confession making him feel like he could pass out or combust at any second.
You just shake your head at him, lips curled up into a smile that makes him want to melt. “What’ve I gotta do to prove it to you? Put it on a big sign?” You place soft kisses up and along his throat, breaking them up with your words. “Or I could make a t-shirt?” You move your kisses up to his face so you can look at him again, eyes bright with tenderness for the boy in front of you. 
“The t-shirt sounds good.” Steve can feel his skin heat up wherever you place your kisses, your sweet words and soft touches driving him a little crazy.
You giggle, moving one hand to cup his jaw. “Yeah? I can do that.” You press your lips against his, softly and just for a second. “I wanna be your girl, Steve Harrington. You gonna let me?” 
Steve’s not sure he’ll ever get used to your confidence, not that he minds it. But he can’t deny it makes his heart flip whenever you say stuff like this, so assured in what you want, especially when it’s him. “Yeah, yeah, I am.” He exhales, finally bringing his lips back to yours.
He kisses you with more confidence now, like whatever line you’ve been toeing has been crossed and he’s finally letting himself relax into you. His hands hold your waist properly, pulling your body closer to his so you can feel his chest move with each breath. 
You tilt your head so you can deepen the kiss, Steve’s tongue licking into your mouth as he squeezes your side and it’s enough for you to sigh out a small moan. The sound only makes Steve kiss you harder, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip and making your brain go sort of fuzzy. 
When his lips make their way along your jaw, trailing down the column of your neck and onto that sensitive spot near your collarbone your breath hitches in your throat. You think Steve must feel it stuck there, because it’s almost like you can feel him smirk against your skin as he nips at the same spot before soothing over it with his tongue. 
His hands roam to your thighs, skirt pulled up a little too high to be decent from you straddling him and you don’t even mind the pain that comes from when his hand passes over your bruise. “Jesus, Steve.” You almost whine, his lips still attached to that same spot and leaving a pretty purple mark there. 
Steve groans against your skin when you say his name, the way you say it has his mind moving a hundred miles a minute. “Y’so pretty, y’know that?” His words are a bit muffled against your skin, though he briefly pulls away so he can look you in the eyes. “So perfect, drives me crazy.”
When one of his hands slips towards the inside of your thighs you have to blink a few times to try and keep yourself calm, the sensation so intense even with his gentle touch. It makes you rock your hips towards him, you don’t even mean to do it but the feeling of his denim dragging along your bare skin only sends you more into a haze. Your fingers press into his shoulders, little half moon indents pressing into the fabric of his shirt where you’re trying to ground yourself. 
It feels like an eternity of his hands wandering, fingers ghosting closer to your core only to move away again before Steve finally asks if he can touch you, big brown eyes blinking down at you as you nod your head, forcing out a small “yes”, your voice a little raspy from trying to control your breathing.
Steve still feels like this might all be a dream, a fantasy taking place solely in his head, when he finally runs fingers along the hemline of your panties. You’re already warm, your soft skin radiating heat onto him and driving him wild. He moves his hand away for a second, just so he can shift your bodies around and lay you back on the couch. One hand next to your head, propping himself over you so he can see your face, and the other back to teasing you.
You know you’re already wet, can feel it there between your thighs as Steve trails a finger up and down over your panties eventually relenting and pulling them to the side. You don’t think the room is cold, but the air hitting your exposed cunt is enough to make you shiver a little. 
He slides two of his fingers down into your slick, the light pressure on your already sensitive clit enough to make your body jolt and a small gasp falls from your lips. 
“God, y’so wet already baby.” He muses, a smile curled onto the corners of his lips as he watches your face scrunch a little with each of his movements. His fingers rub circles around your clit, slow steady movements that have your eyes fluttering closed. 
“Feels so good, Stevie.” Your voice is even sweeter than usual, all breathy and a little out of it and Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever get over it. 
All your nerves feel like they’re on fire, every inch of your body charged with some sort of electricity as Steve keeps touching you. When he finally slips one finger inside of you, his thumb still pressing onto your clit, you’re pretty sure you can see stars. He’s gentle with you, moving in and out of you slowly and always keeping an eye on your face to make sure you’re alright, only adding a second finger once he can feel you’re ready. 
His fingers curl up to hit that sweet spot inside of you, the slow drag of them in and out mixed with the lazy movements against your cliensending your head dizzy. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, nails dragging along the top of his back as your heartbeat quickens and the coil inside your stomach tightens. 
“Steve.” You whine, incapable of getting any other words out, your brain turned to mush from his touch.
“Y’close?” He breathes, blown pupils staring down into your own with such intensity and desire that it only pushes you closer to the edge. 
“Mhm.” You hum, all you can manage as he speeds up his movements. His fingers are pumping into you a little faster now, still careful and considerate and always hitting the right spot and you can feel your body temperature rising. 
“Can feel it, feels so good.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, then onto your cheek. “Y’gonna let go for me? Wanna feel you come so bad, sweetheart.” He knows he’s running his mouth, mind all fogged up from how good you feel and how much he wants you that he can’t help but let the words tumble out.
It doesn’t take much more for that coil in your stomach to snap, Steve’s words coaxing you through your high as you squeeze your eyes shut and moan out his name. Your nails dig harder into his shoulders, the blinding white of your orgasm leaving you out of it and the feel of him underneath your fingers the only thing helping to ground you. 
You whine when Steve finally slides his fingers out of you, the sudden emptiness pulling the sound from your mouth. You bring your head up from where it was lay on the couch, lips meeting his where he’s still hovering over you. 
“You alright?” Steve presses his forehead against yours, the breath of his words fanning against your lips. 
“Yeah, Stevie.” You give him a sweet smile, mascara a little smudged under your eyes and still looking a little out of it. “C’mon.” You press a hand to his chest and give him a gentle push, just enough so you can sit yourself up. “Wanna make you feel good.”
Hearing the words come from your mouth makes Steve’s brain short circuit a little bit, just following your lead as you shuffle up and off the couch and offer him a hand to lead him to your bedroom. You turn to face him as you walk backwards into the room, knocking the light on with your other hand and coating the room in a buttery light. Your lips are little puffy from where he’d kissed, your hair mussed from the couch, and Steve thinks you’re the most perfect girl he’s ever seen. 
Then you’re back on each other again, like some invisible rope is tied around you both and is being pulled tighter til you collide. The kiss is a little messy, too eager to touch each other that it’s all tongue and teeth as your hands both try to pry the others shirt off without having to pull away for too long. 
Your clothes are strewn across the room, cascaded to the floor carelessly as your hands can finally roam skin on skin. Your palms on Steve’s chest guide him towards your bed, the back of his knees hitting the mattress. 
He sits on the edge of the bed, hands splayed across your now bare waist and you stood between his legs, gazing down at him with big eyes full of something sticky sweet and sultry. He brings his mouth to your tits, kissing the skin and sucking softly to draw out more sweet sounds from you.
“S’my turn. To make you feel good.” You have to force the words out, your breath hitching in your chest each time Steve nibbles on your skin. Your hand reaches down to run over Steve’s crotch. You can feel how much he’s already straining against the denim jeans as you go to fiddle with the button, movements slow and teasing and already enough to make him groan against your soft skin. 
“Baby.” Steve grips you a little tighter, pads of his fingers pressing into you. You just look at him, a picture of innocence as you continue your deliberate movements, zipper pulled down at an agonizing pace. “Babybabybaby.” He genuinely thinks his heart might stop with how hard it’s pounding against his ribs. 
When you finally un-do the zipper and start palming at his cock through his boxers, Steve tips his head back with a low moan, the pleasure already overwhelming. You use your other hand to caress his cheek, your touch gentle and comforting to counteract how much you’re driving him absolutely crazy. 
You dip your hand into his boxers, sufficient teasing done, and finally move his boxers down enough so you can pull his cock out. You try not to react when you realize just how big he is, though a small sound escapes your mouth as you start to pump your hand around the base of his shaft. 
When you crouch down in the space between Steve’s legs and run your tongue up his shaft, tip already leaking from the way your hands pumping him, he thinks he might be done for. You look up at him through your lashes, doe eyed and mouth just barely touching him, placing gentle kisses on his member as one of his hands entangles itself in your hair.
“Fucking hell.” He moans, your eyes closing over as you take as much of him as you can in your mouth, hand continuing its motions at the base that you can’t quite fit. 
You can feel the tip of him pressing against the back of your throat, and you have to focus on your breathing to try and stop yourself choking up around him. His fingers tighten their hold on your hair as you speed up your movements, tugging a little each time you hear him sigh or moan.
“I-I’m not gonna last.” He chokes out, trying to guide your head up so he can look at you properly. You move your mouth off him, lips slick with saliva and eyes blown as you look at him. “I wanna fuck you, don’t wanna cum yet.” His words are still breathy even now you’ve stopped touching him, his mind still catching up to everything that’s happening. 
“Yeah?” You ask, voice a little teasing which only makes Steve want you more. You stand up so you can wiggle out of your skirt, letting it fall to the ground below you and leaving you only in your panties. Your fingers tug at the waistband of his jeans, a silent instruction for him to follow suit. He shuffles in his spot, tugging the trousers down his legs and onto the floor. “Sit back.” You nudge your head towards the headboard of your bed, and Steve doesn’t even try to argue as he moves himself to lean against your pillows. 
You kneel over him, hands pulling at his boxers as you help to guide them off before doing the same with your panties. You straddle him again, cock pushing against your clit as you kiss him and rock your hips.
Your lips move down his neck, still a little wet and puffed up. Steve’s hands are resting on your thighs, head tilted to the side so you can continue your trail of kisses down towards his collarbone. “I, uh, don’t have a condom.” Steve murmurs, using probably the last bit of sanity he has to force the words out.
“I’m on the pill.” Your words are pressed into his skin, and you can feel him groan underneath you as you speak. “If you’re okay with that.” 
“Yeah, fuck, I’m okay with it.” 
Steve helps you line yourself up on top of him, a small hiss coming through your teeth as you lower down onto him and feel the stretch. You have to move slowly, each time you press yourself down a little further and feel him fill you up a little more. It takes you a couple minutes til you’re sat on him fully, breathing already a little heavy as you rest your head on his shoulder.
Steve presses kisses onto your forehead, hands steady on your hips as you sit for a moment. He can feel how tight you are around him, cock twitching inside you just from the thought of you moving. “You okay?” His voice is soothing, gentle and full of care as his thumb strokes circles into your skin.
“Yeah, m’okay.” Your voice is quiet, but you eventually start to rock your hips against him once you’ve adjusted to his size. You can feel his tip nudging that soft squidgy spot with each movement and it has you moaning into his neck as your forehead stays steady in the crook of his neck. 
You get a little more confident with it, properly lifting yourself up now so you can feel the full length of his shaft moving in and out of you. You lift your head up so you can look at Steve, mouth hung open a little from being so blissed out. 
“Feel s’good, so full.” Steve’s hands help guide you as you bounce on top of him, your clit bumping against the base of his shaft each time brings you down again and it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 
“God. Wanted this so bad. Want you so bad. Want you to be my girl.” He starts pistoning his hips up into you now, following your rhythm and hitting even deeper inside you which has you whining. 
“I am your girl, Stevie.” You bite your lip as Steve thrusts up into you, barely muffling the sound of your moans as you keen at his thrusts. 
“Oh fuck.” He tips his head back, eyes closing as his thrusts start getting a little sloppy. You can tell he’s close, trying your best to hold onto the pace he’s set to bring him to the edge. 
“Y’gonna cum for me, baby?” You muse, voice sugar coated despite the words and it has Steve’s head spinning. He brings a hand down between you, fingers finding your clit so he can rub circles in it as you both near the edge. 
It’s a little messy, still learning each other's bodies and the way you move with each touch, but you can feel yourself tiptoeing along that ledge again. Steve must feel it too, the way you clench impossibly tighter around him, because he starts picking up the pace with his thrusts again. 
It doesn’t take long for you to both tumble over the edge, Steve breathing out your name over and over as he brings his forehead to yours and helps you steady yourself as you come down from your high. You’re not quite ready to move yet, still too sensitive to deal with the feeling of him pulling out. 
He’s peppering sweet kisses along your cheek through his deep breathing, both your chests rising and falling as you try to bring yourselves back to reality. When he finally pulls out you whine a little, the loss of him inside you has you feeling empty and the over stimulation is close to electric. 
Steve lifts you off him, placing you gently on the bed so he can go to the bathroom to get something to clean the pair of you up with. He’s so soft with you, all affectionate and doting like you’re the most precious thing in the world, he thinks you might be.
“Steve?” You sit yourself up on the bed as he pulls his boxers on, your cheeks flushed pink and lip pulled between your bottom teeth.
“Yeah?” 
“This mean I’m actually your girl now?” You grin at him, and you’re asking a question you already know the answer to really. But you want to hear him say it, purely for selfish reasons.
“Fuck, yeah, you’re my girl.” He leans over and kisses your forehead, and the way you look up at him has him thinking that you might always send his head a little dizzy. But he definitely doesn’t mind.
thank u so much for reading ! plz reblog if u enjoyed and message me if u have any requests/wanna gush over steve lol <333
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deadhands69 · 1 month ago
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In The Bathroom is Where I Want You
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*not my photo, found on the internet. The title is from a Nightmare of You song that sparked this idea.
MDNI
Dabi x gn/afab Reader 
Warnings/Content/etc: alcohol use, public bathroom sex, light teasing/begging, swearing.
You don’t even know this band, just a random local punk show. It's at some dingy underground venue where no one cares who you are. That’s perfect as long as the band doesn’t don’t suck too much, you think while getting in the disproportionately long line for drinks. Besides, it’s not like you have much else to do. With Shigaraki at home healing, the league is at a pause on most missions, giving you all more free time than you know what to do with. 
Most of the others stayed in to rest but you tagged along with Dabi and Toga, wanting more out of tonight. 
The next band begins their set, the same mediocre drum beat you’ve heard a million times. Toga runs off. You watch as her blonde buns disappear into the crowd, leaving you alone with the tall dark haired man beside you. 
“I guess it’s just you and me tonight,” Dabi lightly elbows you in the side. You could swear his blue eyes look you up and down before landing on yours.
“I guess so,” you yell back at him.
When you approach the bar, he puts in an order before you can decide.
“Two shots of absinthe,” his loud voice booms over the music. You consider asking for something less strong but realize there’s no point when you have all day tomorrow to sleep it off. He shoves a glass of too green liquid in front of you. 
Tapping his drink lightly on yours, you watch as he downs the whole thing at once. You’re always taken aback by his confidence, this is no different. 
Your turn. 
The moment the shot touches your lips, you're overcome by licorice and fire. Less smooth than him, you swallow it in three wincing gulps. 
“Fuck, that’s rough,” you mumble, eyebrows still furrowed. He only smirks.
After another round, the two of you settle into a dark corner for a few songs.
“This band sucks,” he rasps behind your ear, lips grazing your neck, “you look bored.”
Flustered by his closeness, you nod. 
“Come with me,” less of an ask and more of a demand. A large hand grips your arm, pulling you through the crowd to a somehow even darker hallway. Pressing you into a room, he follows you in before slamming the door behind him. The lock clicks.
For a fraction of a second, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the graffiti covered mirror before he spins you around and picks you up onto the counter. His eyes rake over you, nearly glowing in the faint lighting. Soft scared lips find yours, pushing you back into the mirror. You gasp, shocked at the suddenness of the act before moving your mouth with his. Your tongues tangle together as the loud music vibrates through the wall, shaking its way into your bones. He pulls back for a moment to look down at you. His rough hands firmly working over your body before landing on your belt.
“You didn’t think I’d let you have a boring night, did you?” he asks, sliding your pants down your legs and pulling them to the floor (disgusting but you can't bring yourself to care.) The counter feels cold against your warm ass. He continues, “I see the way you always look at me. Let’s do something about it, huh?”
His boldness has you in a chokehold again, while he stands over you. Forehead touching yours. 
You nod impatiently, unable to find the words.
Sliding your already damp panties to the side, his fingers brush lightly over your skin. Parting your lips slightly, he runs two flat digits up and down before pressing a little harder on your clit. He watches amused as you writhe under him. Continuing, his hand begins to slide more easily the wetter you get. 
With his free hand, he grabs a handful of your hair, tugging you back into the vandalized wall. Your fingernails scratching at the rough edges of the stickers on the surface beneath you. 
One of his fingers quickly dips into you before pulling away. Turquoise eyes meet yours again. He repeats this, knowing exactly what he’s doing. Lightly, he resumes rubbing you. His fingers teasing, never quite giving you everything you need.
Then you realize: he’s going to make you beg for it. You’d never degrade yourself to asking for anything; he knows that. 
But you want- no, you need him. And he needs to hear it.
He picks up the pace just enough to bring you to the brink as you shove your hips further into him, feeling him hard through his pants against your thigh. He pulls away.
You need it.
And that’s how you, someone who has never begged for anything-
“I fucking need you in me!” you scream.
A smile breaks across his face. “Oh? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Fuck you,” you mutter as he loosens his belt and unzips his pants.
His length springs out eagerly. With a few quick strokes, he lines up with you, pulling your hips to the edge of the counter. Rubbing precum into you, his tip barely presses your entrance before he pauses. 
“You sure?” he muses above you.
“Uh huh,” you nod again.
“You’re gonna have to use real words,” he teases, barely poking into you before sliding back, “come on, tell me what you want.”
“You. I want you.”
“What do you want from me?” he whispers in your ear before resuming eye contact. He’s having too much fun with this.
“I want you to fuck me, Dabi,” you whine, your voice more desperate than you'd prefer but he loves it.
Fortunately, that’s all it took. With one quick snap, his hips jut forward filling you in an instant. You sigh in relief. It’s everything you need and more. His dick begins sliding in and out, plowing into every sensitive spot along the way. Grabbing his hair, you pull him in closer.
“You like that, huh?” he groans into your ear while slamming back into you. His thrusts are hard and out of sync with the muffled music. 
“Yes!” you half scream, your body clenching around him. Another hard snap and you swear you can see stars. Your body weakens under him as your orgasm overtakes you.
“You look so good, cumming on my dick,” he looks down at you, practically holding you from sliding to the floor, “how’s it feel?”
“So fucking amazing,” you babble, still clinging to him. 
He pounds into you harder, watching how your head lolls into the wall behind you while you whimper his name. It’s too much.  
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moans as he collapses onto your shoulder. His cum overflows from your already full pussy. He snaps his hips a few more times forcing your combined mess to spill out of you, pooling on the dirty counter, and dripping onto the floor. 
Pressing his head to the mirror behind you, you both catch your breath. 
“Careful,” he mumbles while helping you off the counter. He wipes himself off and gives the counter a quick swipe as you get cleaned up. 
Within a few minutes, you’re back in the corner you started in as another band takes the stage. But this time, Dabi’s standing behind you, arms wrapped firmly around your waist. 
“I hope this one sucks too,” his husky voice whispers into your ear.
m.list
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missmonsters2 · 1 year ago
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Mirror, Mirror | Six: Epilogue
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Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.
PART FIVE
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: You never really thought about Wanda other than the fact that she's your best friend. Nothing more, nothing less. It just wasn't in the realm of possibilites, so you never let yourself develop feelings. At least until someone points out that you have a very specific type when it comes to dating, so maybe it is all subconscious? Reader's POV
Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.
*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*
Note: Mini Series is completed! Thank you so much for tagging along with me <3 Explicit version available in a week.
Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘
Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3
Count: ~3.1k
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You rarely think about sentences that could change your life.
There are too many instances that could change your life; therefore, it would be moot to think about.
You have a terminal illness. 
You've won 69 million dollars.
Someone you love has horrifically died—no, there were no remains.
It's all too overwhelming to think about; therefore, you don't. Yet, somehow, if you ever did think about life-changing sentences, you didn't think it could ever be, "Hey, have you noticed how you seem to exclusively date girls who look like Wanda?"
And it was like the ground crumbled underneath you. It was such a sickening realization—not that Wanda was in any way sickening—it was the fact that you might just be subconsciously a pervert. 
The more you thought about the words, the more horrifying it became. Every one-night stand, every situationship, every girlfriend—god, they all looked like Wanda. 
You're too scared to think about it deeper in fear of what it would reveal subconsciously every time you kissed or fucked a girl. Were you thinking of Wanda? God, you just couldn't think about it.
This was all Bucky's fault. You wished you had never gone out onto that balcony that night. 
3 months prior to that night at the bar with Wanda & Steve
The cool air felt better, and the breeze settled on the back of your neck. There was definitely too much wine going around, and you only managed to escape as Tony brought out the hard liquor. 
The crowd dispersed after several shots you didn't partake in. You stared into the distance, thinking idly how Tony had way too much money. Old money was ridiculous. Why does someone need a garden fountain as big as a pool?
Movement caught the corner of your eye, and you saw Wanda and Vision walking through the dimly lit garden. You smiled fondly at your best friend as she laughed at whatever charming thing Vision had managed to say. 
Vision was...just okay, in your opinion. You thought he was too nonchalant about Wanda, and that was why they were so on and off rather than consistently being together. Wanda deserved someone who loved her fiercely, and you couldn't imagine Vision always putting Wanda first. 
You watched with slight melancholy when Wanda linked her arms through his as they sat on the ledge of the garden fountain. You wished you had also brought someone along for this party. 
"Hey, thought I saw you sneak out here."
You turned around and saw Bucky holding a glass of beer. You smirked at him with mirth. "You know what I must do when Tony starts bringing out the grey goose."
Bucky shuddered, clearly having been roped into a few shots. He came and stood next to you, catching the scene you were staring at. "Guess they're back on then?"
You shrugged. "Guess so. We'll see how long it lasts. I'm betting 3 months."
"Be realistic. It'll be 2 and a half months," Bucky snorted. 
"Ye of little faith," you teased and then sighed. "I wish I also brought someone along. I should've brought that girl I met at my photoshoot."
"The brunette with green eyes?" Bucky asked, and you nod. "You know what I've noticed?"
"Hm?" you hummed in response to Bucky's casual tone. 
"You seem to have a very specific type when it comes to dating," Bucky mused. "They're always brunette—save those two girls from university—and they always have green eyes." 
You furrow your brows in serious thought. "I suppose so."
"Yeah," Bucky nodded, his tone still casual. "They always remind me of Wanda, especially from the back. I always have to make sure I'm careful not to mix up your date with Wanda." 
Bucky ended it with a chuckle, stating he was getting cold before he left without another world, leaving you alone outside.
The connect dots snapped into place almost instantly, horrifying you as you continued to stare at Wanda from above. 
Oh, fuck. 
Maybe it was a good thing you didn't bring anyone tonight. You're not sure how you'd be able to take someone home into your bed with the daunting realization you go after girls who look like your best friend...because you actually want your best friend. 
The three months since that discovery had nearly driven you to insanity. Since you refused to talk to anyone about it, most of your thought process was, " Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no."
But in the end, you resolved that it couldn't happen. Wanda would never reciprocate your feelings in a million years, especially since she had Vision. Wanda occasionally even talked about the possibility of marrying him down the road. 
It wasn't happening. It was never going to happen. 
Wanda was more important to you than anyone in the whole entire world. You would never allow anything to risk the friendship—even your feelings. 
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You felt like a sick sexual deviant. 
Despite your resolve to bury your feelings and continue on as normal, it was getting increasingly weird to continue to see girls who looked like Wanda. Yet, you couldn't stop. It wasn't doing it for you otherwise. 
But now, every time you kissed a girl, all you could see was Wanda in her. Sex was beginning to become a guilty pleasure for all the wrong reasons. 
When you met Raye, it felt like another sinful thing to lust after, knowing how much she physically reminded you of Wanda. But you could see a big personality difference in the short time you spent chatting with Raye. 
Wanda was the type you spoiled, indulging in her strange, wacky ideas. She could be very emotional, swinging from one side of the spectrum to another. She had such a big heart, willing to love, but also held grudges and was wicked if crossed. Wanda was a brat in all the loving ways you could mean. 
Raye could be best described as emotionally consistent. On the surface, she portrayed a wicked sense of humor and was fun to be around, but she was much more guarded than Wanda. She was very independent, not liking anything that might even intrude on her freedom. Raye kept her true feelings close to herself and seemed to be teasing you to come find out. 
It was different. You didn't mind, maybe liking it even (purely in the sense it was the opposite of Wanda, and you couldn't afford to keep lusting after your best friend in all possible ways).
Even so, your mind was distracted on the first date.
"Have you ever done a boudoir photoshoot?" Raye asks, her tone low and seductive.
"Can't say that I have," you smile, trying to remind yourself to be present during the date. It's been long since you've properly wined and dined someone, and Wanda kept entering your thoughts. 
"Well, there's a first for everything and you might even have a willing model," Raye bit her bottom lip suggestively, her index finger stroking the back of your hand. 
And while the southern twang does stir something in you, and you feel your stomach tingling, you're very aware that it's because Raye physically reminds you of Wanda. So, your mind traitorously imagines Wanda biting her lip and saying seductive things to you. 
"THEY WOULD NEVER—"
You whip your head around, swearing you heard Wanda. When there was no sign of her, you furrowed your brows in confusion, turning back to Raye.
Was this a sign of insanity?
You resolve right then and there to focus on the lovely brunette before you and enjoy the date. It was easy enough if you relaxed and earnestly asked Raye questions about herself. 
It was easy enough to hold Raye's hand and swing it back and forth if you just thought about how warm they were. 
It was enough to giggle when Raye leaned in closer to whisper something silly or naughty in your ear if you just thought about how her breath felt on the shell of your ear.
Suddenly, the car next to you went off, the alarm beeping loudly enough to make you and Raye jump in surprise. You turned around and noticed the couple behind you were gone. You thought they looked slightly familiar, but it was too difficult to determine when they were so far away in the dark under passing streetlights. 
Ultimately, you walk Raye up her steps, unsure what you want your next move to be. Everything feels strange since the revelation. You feel guilty for your lust, but specifically what causes it. 
But when Raye pulled you in for a hot, searing kiss, you decided to just go with the flow...which also ended up being nothing as she got a call from her sister while clothes were discarded. 
The call was only bordering on 40 seconds, but you decided your momentum was lost, and you needed that momentum to have sex with someone else while you tried (unsuccessfully) to not think about Wanda. 
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Fuck. Darcy.
Those were the only words that could come to your mind after Wanda texted her vague answer about whether or not she was returning home tonight. 
You sighed as you scrolled through the videos and photos, trying to get a headstart on putting together the video for Tony and Pepper. As you began opening up files, many were corrupted by the inability to open or glitchy images. 
With another sigh, your chair scraped against the floor as you shifted back, pulling out your phone and shooting a quick text to the videographer asking if you could meet up tomorrow to get the SD card for the originals. You got a prompt reply with a thumbs-up emoji with a time and place. 
You thought you might've just heard something shuffle in your room, but you forget about it when it's quiet again.
In the end, you spent another 45 minutes scrolling through some other photos that weren't corrupted, catching Wanda in the background and staring with a lingering thought about how absolutely pretty she was.
A part of you was in disbelief that Wanda was interested in women. You had so many questions that still lingered, but you didn't want to push Wanda or make it seem like you were interrogating her, and she needed to prove it.  
Still, you wondered what exactly made Wanda come to terms with the fact that she liked women.
Specifically, why couldn't you be the reason she was interested in women? You shoved those forbidden feelings down, beating them back into its box to put away. 
It didn't matter. 
It shouldn't matter.
You're with Raye, and Wanda may be with Darcy. Or some other girl, or maybe even with a guy again.
It's just not going to be you. 
And that's okay, you tell yourself. You can love someone without having to pursue anything. You just want to be there for Wanda. 
Of course, all of this changed the moment you watched a slanted confession video from an unaware Wanda while your roommate was out for lunch with a client.
Shock is the only thing that registers upon the video finishing. Were you hallucinating again? Was this like the first date with Raye where you kept thinking you could hear or see glimpses of Wanda?
But you played the video over and over, blinking every time it was finished.
Then a burst of strange laughter bubbled from your mouth, and then horror dawned on you that, 'oh, fuck. She actually feels the same way.'
It was unclear whether or not Wanda was trying to let her feelings be known or if she was also facing the same issue as you, where she was suppressing them. Either way, Wanda would unlikely be brave enough to say anything soon. 
You spent the week humming and hawing about what pursuing a relationship with your best friend would mean. What would the consequences be if things didn't work out? What would the consequences be if you declined to pursue anything more despite if Wanda confessed? What would the consequences be to watch Wanda move on and love someone else?
Your stomach dropped. 
You needed to break up with Raye. 
Your stomach dropped. 
You wait 3 more days before confronting Wanda since she's clearly a chicken.
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"You knew you had feelings for me for at least 3 months?" Wanda screeches. "And you said nothing?!"
"Okay, relax, you banshee," you wince at the sound. "How is that the only thing you hung onto out of everything I just told you?"
"But...but!" Wanda narrows her eyes on you. "It was getting serious with Raye!"
"Serious?" you raise your brow at Wanda. "What gave you the idea it was getting serious? We were dating but I saw her maybe a few days out of a month with how much she flies out for work."
"So, it wasn't getting serious at all?" Wanda frowns.
"Well," you purse your lips. "Maybe for Raye. She was considering transferring to another department so she wouldn't have to fly out anymore."
Wanda's mouth hangs open, her face pale with the worst thoughts of what might've been if they never confessed their feelings.
"Which," you cut in like you're able to read her mind, "obviously, I told her to not do as I wanted to end things with her."
"How did she take it?" Wanda asks curiously.
You look uncomfortable as you shift in bed, but Wanda waits patiently. "I think she just emotionally shut down. There were no tears, no screaming, or any accusations about why I was ending things. She just looked impassive as she accepted it and asked me to leave."
"Oh," Wanda bit her bottom lip. She feels bad in a way, but not bad enough to regret making you hers. "I'm sorry, bug."
You sigh as you reach over and pull Wanda close, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. The blanket shifts down, exposing Wanda's neck and collarbone where you had unabashedly marked up.
"Now, are you done with the questions, or can we resume where we left off?" You ask mischievously, pressing languid kisses against the side of her neck. 
Wanda closes her eyes with a soft hum, pressing her body closer to yours until you shift and move over Wanda. 
"I notice that you didn't mention anything about Darcy."
"Mention what exactly?" You say between kisses, stroking Wanda's hip. "That I was insanely jealous and wished her ill? Although, now that I know it was a fake date and neither of you had interest in each other, she seems nice."
Wanda laughs. "Even after she hacked your laptop?"
"With your help, might I remind you," you pull up and pointedly look at her. "But if she never corrupted those wedding files, I would've never got the original SD card and found out about your feelings."
"Very true," Wanda muses as she throws her head around your neck and pulls you close. She pecks your lips charmingly. "We should get her a nice bottle of wine."
"What about Steve and Bucky."
Wanda scoffs. "They're meddling little school girls who are probably kicking their feet and giggling."
You can't help but laugh before you dive in for another kiss, eager but slow. Oh, man. You were going to love Wanda for the rest of your life.
After a moment, Wanda sighs. "Okay, fine. We can give our McDonald's coupons to Steve and Bucky."
You laugh again. "Alright, brat."
"Okay, stinky."
"Chicken."
"Stupid."
"Witch."
"Here we go again with that," Wanda rolls her eyes with a smile. "I'll have you know that if I were a witch, I'd be the most powerful and best witch ever."
"I bet you would," you agree very readily. "Instead of cursing people to death, you'd be saving their lives...or causing mass chaos. Huh, I guess that's not so different from now." 
Wanda scoffs indignantly before she starts tickling you. You laugh, trying to jerk away, but Wanda is persistent in keeping you in place. 
"Mercy!" You laugh as you roll to the side. 
"Take that back! I do not cause chaos!"
"I take it back! You're clearly an A-List superhero!"
Wanda continues to tickle you anyway. "Say you love me!"
"I love you!"
Only then does Wanda stop, grinning wickedly as she presses a chaste kiss to your lips, and you're breathing heavily.
You want to call her a menace, but you're afraid that will only result in another tickle fight. 
Wanda smiles warmly.
"I love you, too."
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
"See, I told you Wanda would be the one to confess!" Steve smirks.
"That's because you're a little cheater who went and nudged Wanda along," Bucky rolls his eyes with a smile.
"Oh, yeah, like you're the perfect picture of fair," Steve narrows his eyes. "Don't think I don't know that you went to Bug first. I had to step in and nudge Wanda to make the odds even."
"Was it really Wanda who confessed when it was Bug who technically discovered her secret."
Steve seems to think about it before he slumps into the sofa, "I feel like that's a gray area." Then, Steve frowns. "Ugh, but then that means neither of us wins the bet."
"We can just call it even," Bucky shrugs, laying his head on Steve's shoulder.
"Oh, no," Steve shakes his head. "I won't let you wriggle out of our bet. We will watch all the Lord of the Rings movies if you lose."
Bucky groans loudly. "But there's so many and they're so long."
"You really think I want to watch the Star Wars movies?" Steve rolls his eyes.
"They're a classic!" Bucky argues.
"So is Lord of the Rings."
Bucky huffs but concedes. "Fine," he wrinkles his nose. "Should we bet on something else?"
"No, I like the thrill of two people getting together, even if it takes time. Besides, we have the time since we have to finish a whole bunch of shows," Steve says.
"Hm, which ones of our friends are due to get together?" Bucky muses.
"We could try Nat and Maria," Steve suggests.
"No, too hard since Maria doesn't live here," Bucky shakes his head and then offers, "Yelena and Kate?"
"I think they're actually already together," Steve furrows his brows. "But if they're not, I'm too scared of Yelena to get involved in her affairs."
"I think that's all our friends who are technically single with a viable date option," Bucky sighs.
Silence falls between them before Steve suggests, "Want to bet when Tony and Pepper will announce they're pregnant?"
They stare at each other for a moment before they yell out their guess at the same time. 
"6 months!"
"6 months!"
The silliness of it all leaves Steve and Bucky giggling. 
591 notes · View notes
slippinninque · 7 months ago
Text
🫣🍑Private Dancer🍑🫣
Or: You discover another half to the secret you thought you were keeping
Fontaine x blackfemreader
Warnings: MINORS DNI, cursing, use of the n-word, mentions of smoking/weed, P-in-V, mentions of insecurity, long fic
Truth was, you were a secret shaker.
A tentative twerker. An apprehensive ass-thrower. Your waist whined when being perceived directly and not in a good way. Not only did you decline to throw ass in public, you will also turn away any offers to catch it.
When you were alone, though...
You learned chorography to your favorite sounds, bounced around your living room as you folded clothes. Recorded dance challenges and deleted them a few hours later. You were your very own Stallion behind closed doors.
It took only a handful of awkward encounters and an asshole ex-boyfriend suggesting you 'stand to the side' for you to be determined to find your rhythm.
Looking up tips online and went to any beginner's classes you could find in the area. Ballroom, salsa, the pole--it all helped you understand your body outside of what it looked like. It was about what you trained it to do, what you wanted it to do.
Investing in a really good floor length mirror was the last puzzle piece you needed to really find your beat. From there on, you and the mirror were lovers.
Only your small circle of friends knew. That was thanks to enough years of trust and tequila, leading to wild nights at house parties with the radio cranked high.
You eventually learned that it was nothing to be ashamed of. It's not like it kept you away from fun or being included in the antics. If you went out with the ladies, you hyped them and kept a cute lil' two step. You held the title of Camerawoman with pride and your background cackles were famous in the group chat.
The booty wouldn't boogie with anyone else around and it's been that way for years.
It was your own little secret. No one had to know everything and you babbled enough as it was. If anyone cared to stare hard enough to a deserted, dark corner of the house--then maybe they could catch a glimpse.
The sway-snap of your hips, falling beautifully with every beat that you heard. How your hair gleamed, the way your smile swelled with the change of the songs.
Your entire body sang a song.
At least, that's what Fontaine thought when he first spotted you.
Of course you never knew he saw you. Even after the reciprocated confessions and hot-n-heavy honeymoon phase, you thought you went unseen.
Fontaine took your secret for his own, delighting in your shadow shows on the rare occasions you came out to play.
Fontaine could wait and if you had to feel alone to feel secure, then so be it. He used his admiration and desire to touch you, to be a proper witness.
Just being near you was more then enough, it would have been ungrateful to be so greedy.
------
You screamed when you saw him standing there.
The earbuds went off into the wilds of the kitchen, one skittering beneath the fridge.
Fontaine's eyes were popped wide but didn't seem remorseful for scaring your soul to the heavens.
"I thought you heard me when I came in." Fontaine hung up his keys before going in search of your earbuds. You watched after him, mortified.
You were just really into organizing the lower pantry. Lost in shaking your ass with one hand braced on the red potatoes and the other searching for the brown potatoes to put them back in their proper spot.
When you turned to grab the few 'taters that eacaped, you saw your man standing a few feet away from you with his arms crossed and head tilted.
How long has he been here?
Oh god, you have never danced for him. You have never danced in front of him--you weren't even serious. There wasn't a problem with you shimmying to the beat in his lap at a function or waving from your hips up while riding in the car to some jams.
This was different.
"Hey, hey--whatcha curling up for? C'mon now, I already know you can move."
"It-- that, um, I-I'm not that good, so, y'know..."
Fontaine pocketed your traumatized earbuds and kissed your hands until you inched them away enough for him to see your worried gaze. He tutted quietly, taking your hands into his and kissing your knuckles.
"What matters to me is what makes you feel good, baby." His voice rolled into a purr as he continued, "Lucky me that you look so fine when you do."
You wriggled as your shyness battled against the excitement of having Fontaine looking at you the way he was.
"So I don't look.... awkward? Do I have enough stuff to make it look good?"
"Wasn't nothing awkward 'bout how you were throwin' that, trust me."
Fontaine's hands went down and grabbed two handfuls of your ass. His palms were warm and wide as he kneaded, bringing you even closer to him as you went to your tiptoes. He hooked his chin over your shoulder with a happy little hum, distracted by you but only for only a moment more.
"Hold up, whatchu mean by 'enough stuff' ?"
You shrugged and decided not to answer. The truth of past insecurities felt redundant and you rather liked the way Fontaine was making you feel at the moment.
Fontaine grunted, giving you another squeeze before pulling back a bit to look into you square in the eyes.
"Look here-- I'm in love with all this right here, so I'm rockin' with you regardless of what you can make it do. Don't matter if you think you ain't got enough, shit, it's enough fo', me. Understand?"
His words worked out the few kinks in your heart, aches you grown used to and ignored when they flared. You nodded more confidently and only then did Fontaine lighten his hold on you, nodding back.
No telling how long Fontaine was standing there and if you never turned around-- you would have been none the wiser. How many times has he been there? Letting you have yourself, taking only a moment for himself as he had that smile on his face.
It was the same smile he had when he took away the shea butter to rub you down himself. Or similar to the smirk on his face when following after you to the bedroom after you talked a bit too much shit.
Your shoulders dropped as you fully relaxed into his hold. The burning embarrassment in your stomach churned into smooth, seamless and leaving you suddenly eager.
"So, tell me what a nigga gotta do to get a private dance from yo' pretty self?"
His hands helped themselves to another handful, this time spreading to touch between your legs. There was promise in his eyes and you knew you only needed to say yes.
You twist away from him enough to pluck your phone from the counter, sliding through a few songs before settling on something with drums and bass. The speakers pulsed and you began backing Fontaine out of the kitchen and into the living room.
He let you push him to sit in the recliner and he made an appreciative sound at the way you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips. It evolved, going deeper until you pulled away with a protesting noise from Fontaine.
"That's the only touching you gonna get from me right now."
"Oh, word?"
"You're going to distract me enough as it is." You said, stepping away from him and stretching your arms over your head.
"Bold as hell to call me a distraction." Fontaine's brows rose as he leaned back to make himself comfortable, "Lookin' at me with them eyes..."
His eyes hooked onto your hips. You stretched, teasingly bending over and holding onto your ankles as you gave a cute lil' shake, looking over your shoulder coyly .
"What can I use to look if it ain't my eyes?" You asked, "How am I supposed to see you?"
"Don't worry 'bout what you see back here, act like a nigga ain't even here."
"Oh, that's impossible now. You still make me feel so shy..."
Fontaine snorted and your gave a giddy smile in return.
What you wore was actually perfect. Tiny shorts and cami, perfect for when you were bounding around to clean house. Just what you needed for you to do a little Bend n' Snap for your man.
The music changed and you looked over at him in surprise, he held your phone but watched you with a mischief. Reaching for the little, polka dotted stash jar you left on the coffee table to pull out a blunt to wag at you.
"Go on, show me what you got fo' me."
Waiting until he fired up, you sauntered closer and tied up the front of your already teeny tank. Fontaine's eyes honed in to your nipples, distracted as he took a drag. When his fingers crooked, you leaned in enough and pursed your lips.
Fontaine blew a strong stream that you breathed in and held. You held as long as you could before releasing the smoke a final time into the air.
Fontaine's blunts were no-nonsense, where he still rolled with leaves rather than the papers you preferred. It felt like a straight shot to the head, the smoke lifting all the chatter in your mind to leave you swirling in electric eagerness.
Without further ado, you showed him what you could do.
Your hands braced on your knees, clasped above your head, went down to touch your toes. You rolled your stomach and snapped your hips mouthing the words to Fontaine as you fully felt yourself. You extended your arms and tried to be as dramatically sexy as possible. Touching all of Fontaine's favorite places yourself, pushing up your breast and skimming your hand between your legs for him to see.
Fontaine was a chaotic DJ as he flipped through your playlist. He went from instrumentals filled with nothing but baselines and adlibs, to Glorilla to Megan Thee Stallion to Trina. Whistling at every peek of cheek and nip, calling out to see the 'pretty lady' when you coyly fanned your legs at him from the floor.
When you got down on your hands and knees, you felt a smack against your cheeks hard enough to snap your illusion. You leaned onto your forearms, ass up in the air, and broke into laughter as more bills rained down. It was like a confetti canon was let off or someone hit the Golden Button for you.
"That felt personal." You said over your shoulder at where Fontaine sent another fan of bills into the air, "You tryin' to tell me something?"
"Yeah--to bring that ass over here so I can get my hands on you," Fontaine patted his thigh, "Thought this was gonna be a lap dance..."
"Private does not mean lap." You sniffed. Honestly, you weren't sure because you've never been to a strip club but with the way he was throwing bills--the living room was cosplaying as a VIP section at King of Diamonds.
You took your time in coming closer, wondering if you could skip on singles before Fontaine snatched you right up when you were close enough.
"This is too much! When did you even have time to take out all these damn dollars?"
"I been waiting on this, baby. Shit, I woulda threw gold if it ain't' hurt..."
You laughed and looked around at the singles carpeting your floor in disbelief, it's like you had a new rug installed! There were dollars all overt the coffee table and even some fluttered over to coat the entertainment center. Was there a dollar up in the light fixture? Was that a fire hazard?
Fontaine's teeth nipped at your earlobe, turning your next remark into soft moan. His hand ran up to cup your neck, breathing you in with a hungry hum.
His voice was all smoke and honey, "This is all well an' good, but I think I'm feeling a certain type of way..."
"Is it the horny way?"
Your cheekiness got you mean little pinch to your sensitive nipples. Jolting only pushed you closer to his greedy hands. It was his turn to touch. He plucked and twisted your nipples, making you mewl and melt into his touch. You ground down into his lap where you felt he needed you most, making him sigh into your ear.
"Gonna be the death of me, ain't ya?" Fontaine husked, "Here lies 'Taine, bust so hard he went on to glory. He leaves everything to his pretty-booty havin' lady."
"What if I promise to shake somethin' on your grave, would that be better--no biting!"
Fontaine growled something into the mouthful of shoulder he had, shaking his head gently and making you squeal and scrunch up to try and escape.
Still warm from being in the spotlight of Fontaine's attention and the pulsing music, your head swam with delight. It felt like victory. You turned and kissed at the side of his face before your lips met.
Allowing yourself to be admired and seen was like nothing else. Fontaine has always shown nothing but devotion to you but you still felt like he was...just being nice. You were holding yourself back from assumed disappointment but this whole time he's been waiting on you.
Talk about blocking your blessings...
When your grinding became more insistent, Fontaine leaned back with his lip caught between his teeth.
"That's what I'm talkin' about. Show me how you feel."
You looked over you shoulder, holding his hands against your breast as you rode in his lap. Fontaine hissed, one of his hands quickly escaped to clasp around your hips to grind up into you.
Leaning forward enough on your hands, your delicates went directly in his face as you tugged at his pant leg pointedly. Fontaine ignored your impatience and ran a hand over you, from between your shoulders down to the backs of your thighs.
You could hear him popping the button on his jeans and the rattle of his belt.
"How bad you want it, pretty?"
"Bad, real bad."
"'Do anything fo' it' bad?"
" 'Let you do anything to me' bad."
It happened fast after that, Fontaine righted you in his lap enough for him to press into your pussy. The stretch dropped your mouth open and Fontaine groaned at how wet you already were.
LOW started and you bounced to the beat, grinning dopily up at the ceiling at the feel of him hitting all your good spots. Your shorts provided a wonderful friction against your clit from how Fontaine shoved the fabric aside to let himself in.
It felt so naughty. To fuck on Fontaine like you were starved for him to the music rattling your walls. The thrill twisted with desire in your stomach, hurtling you faster and faster to your peek.
Suddenly more bills rained down and paired with Fontaine's laugh, more lust than amusement--it pushed you over the edge.
"That's it, I feel you, g'on and get yo' shit. Can't believe yo' pretty ass was shy..."
Fontaine took over. A bruising grip onto your hips, tipped you back into his chest as he thrust up into you in earnest.
"Puttin' that shit on me heavy, acting like you don't know what you do to me." Fontaine found a few singles that were being crumpled between you and pressed them to your dewy, lower back.
"Shieet, looks better than money. Wish you can see as much as yo' ass feel it, fuck." He gave your ass slap, you called out as you came. It felt like fire shot through you, leaving you reaching for any bit of him to clutch.
Between the music still going and Fontaine handling you so well, the sensations left you gasping. Legs burning and head filled with needy thoughts, you protested when Fontaine stopped your bouncing and maneuvered you until he slid free.
"Oh, show ain't over yet--you feel me?"
You did. Fontaine was heavy and hot where he tapped all over your ass, leaving kisses of wet spots. It filled you with a flash of pride or maybe even possessiveness. Craining your neck, you did you best to get a glimpse but Fontaine hand cupped your neck licked the shell of your ear.
"Yeah, that's you gettin' all over me. Tryna make me messy just how you like it, huh?"
He hissed when you writhed in his lap, ghost riding his dick until he gave you a little push to stand. Your mouth dropped open to whine but Fontaine turned you towards the middle of the room.
"Show me how you want it."
Fontaine held himself tight at the base, his lips lax enough for his gold to wink in the lamp light.
As gracefully as you could--you went down onto your knees before lying back to put your legs in the air. You rolled over in the blanket of dollars, wriggling down your shorts to one ankle until you could flick them away.
Fontaine grinned down at you, kneeling to slot his palm into the arch of your foot, his other hand stroking himself.
He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, eyes fixed to where his dick bumped against your mound.
"Prettiest thing touchin' soil and you think it ain't enough..."
Fontaine moved your other thigh to the side around his hip, leaving you spread completely. You were still working, still giving him a show, but you couldn't bear to keep your hands off of him.
When you hand ran under his shirt, Fontaine tugged it over his head swiftly and much to your delight. The sight of his broad chest and delicious skin made you all the more impatient.
"Hurry up, Mr. Lapdance--the show ends when the music does."
Fontaine's eyes flashed.
"You lucky we ain't meet like that. D'you wanna know what I would do if you showed out like that on a pole?
The image formed in your mind was electric. Pretending to be a little Stallion and running into a hungry handed, greedy eyed Fontaine in low strobe lights.
Not knowing just what he had in store for you as you led him to the privacy booths--intent on earning his attention.
When you licked your lips, Fontaine groaned softly, you smiled at him.
What's another little secret?
"I did take a few classes, if you ever wanna see ahn--!"
Pressing into your heat, Fontaine grumbled something about Home Depot.
"Shouldn't have told me that, now I gotta put a stage in here somewhere in this bitch..."
Drunk on pleasure, you could only cry out as Fontaine chased his thoughts out loud. The change in position, with him looming above you muttering filthy promises--it was too much for you.
"O-Oh fuck, 'Taine!"
He froze to watch your eyes roll close as you shook apart beneath him with a sob. Fontaine lowered himself to bracket you between his forearms to kiss you, swallowing your moans. His hips snapped, lost rhythm and then he was coming with satisfied growl.
That was it. You were dead. Your very soul leaked onto his thighs and the carpet below.
'Here lies me, twerked too close to the sun...'
Fontaine releases a heavy, satisfied hum into your ear as he finally collapsed onto you. It should have been stifling and your knew your legs would be useless for the next while, but all you could do was grin at the feel of the dollar bill stuck to his shoulder.
What a way to go....
------
When the playlist finally ended, the silence found you both covered in sweat and dollar bills. Fontaine rubbed a loc of your hair between his fingers and you rested your eyes--head on his shoulder. Your hand wandering aimlessly across his chest as you began to doze.
He tugged gently to get your attention, "Want you to do me a favor."
"Mn. If it involves moving, you gotta pay me."
Fontaine snorted and flicked away the bill stuck to the thigh you've strewn across him. You shrugged a shoulder with a lifted brow, you got me there.
He continued, "If you can help it...I'd like for you not to hide from me anymore."
The change in his tone had you searching for his gaze and of course it was already on you. Fontaine took your hand in his, turning yours until he held it in his open palm.
"I...okay. I can do that for you."
You weren't ready to talk about the past and trying to make sense of your complicated feelings of being perceived. Something told you that it wasn't the time, maybe it was you hiding again, but at least Fontaine took your words earnestly.
He kissed your hand once, twice before leaning his head back and closing his eyes as he went back to playing with your locs.
"Good..and no more watchin' Baddies. Watching them girls fucks wit' your disposition," Fontaine reached for a handful of bills to sprinkle all over you, "You wanna be a Stallion? Lemme know and I'll give you a ride."
"Oouf you are terrible." You hid your face into his neck, "But once my legs come back online, you're in trouble."
Fontaine patted your ass, "Can't threaten me with good troubles, baby."
-----------
ending notes: thank you so much for reading! It's a long one but the idea wouldn't leave me alone! Might need some tweaking and editing since it's another Before Work Drop lmao! Please tell me what you think and what other things I should try, don't be shy! Comment and reblog please! 💕🥰💜
Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @sageispunk @miyuhpapayuh @cardierreh15 @mcondance @thadelightfulone@mag1calenchantr3ss@cocoeffects@wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached@thadelightfulone@hobiesmain@thickeeparker@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina
(Added a more after some slight revisions 🫣)
210 notes · View notes
the-kr8tor · 6 months ago
Note
REQUEST
Y'know, Hobie n R hit the boombahya, now the twins are getting a li'l bro? :3
The twins could be like, 4-5 years old now, maybe?
Yeesss new baby alert!! Thank you, roze ❤️
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Word count: 2.1k
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, mom! Reader, dad! Hobie, Billie and Ramona AU, Twin AU, dad AU, fluff
ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ
Hobie's nervous, and it's not because he's scared for you because you're in labour and actively pushing out a whole new human being, that was hours ago, all the blood and sweat have been wiped clean and the baby now presumably sleeps in your arms. And it's not because he's scared of having a new kid, he's way past that phase thanks to your help. No, it's not because of those things why his hands are so clammy, he's scared whether or not his girls, his first babies will get along with the new addition to the family. Especially when they wanted a baby sister.
He flicks his eyes upwards towards the rearview mirror to check on the girls. Their legs dangle off the car seat that they've quickly outgrown. They should be out of it in a few years, but he's sure he won't be ready to face the fact that the squishy cheeked babies he used to carry around all time are now eight years old with their long legs they both inherited from him. The new baby car seat sits between them, all shiny and new, awaiting the new baby.
They eat their chips and ice cream happily, a little treat he bought for them to soften the blow of the news. Ramona hums a tune, a nervous habit of hers. Her, or your cardigan for the matter sits largely on her frame, sparkly trainers shining in the early morning light. While Billie eats her ice cream cone like she hasn't eaten in days. Like Mona, she also sports one of your jackets, a frilly one that you used to wear back when you and Hobie were just friends. They clearly miss you after just a couple of days in hospital.
Hobie unclasps his seat belt, twisting around his seat to speak to them, like a zoo keeper facing lions, he gingerly takes a chip, waiting for their protest.
“Dad!” Billie reacts first, “I was eating that.”
“And I bought it.” He annoyingly chews to lighten the mood.
Mona lifts her eyes from her melting ice cream to her dad. Always the more perceptive one, she senses his nerves. “Is mum okay?” Her tone makes Billie take a whole 180 on her emotions.
“What– why would she not be okay?” Billie turns to her dad, tone soft and clearly terrified at the thoughts rolling in her mind. “Dad, mum is okay, right?”
“She's fine, Mac,” He can see the relief on their faces. “just— she's knackered, pushing the baby out tired was hard, so can you two promise me that you'll be extra careful with her and the baby?”
They look at each other for a second before nodding. “Okay,” they say simultaneously. Hobie's used to their synchronization.
“Good,” he pats both of their knees. “Ready to head out and meet your sibling?”
“Yes!” Billi exclaims, the ‘s’ sound prolonged.
Mona finishes her ice cream in one gulp, brain freeze evident on her face. The same expression you get whenever you bite into your ice cream. He can't wait to see you too, it's only been a few hours since he left your side but it feels like a year.
Wincing, Mona smiles, showing off her dimples and pearly whites. “I'm good!”
“Let's go then.” Hobie doesn't need to help them with their car seat, but it doesn't mean that he doesn't miss it. All he does now is open and close the doors for them, he feels all nostalgic. He hopes he gets the same feeling when his boy gets the same age as his girls.
Locking the car, Billie skips ahead while Mona takes her dad's hand wordlessly. “Bee!” She yells after her sister. “Look both ways!”
Billie stops in her tracks to check her left and right. Then she tosses a thumbs up behind her, continuing her way towards the entrance of the hospital.
“D’you think we need a leash for your sister?” He tuge at Mona's hand jokingly.
“Leashes aren't nice, dad, they hinder us from our freedom to move around.” She says seriously, or as seriously a eight year old can sound like.
“That's my girl.” Hobie grins down.
“Learned from the best.” She beams up at him, he can't believe that she grew up looking more like you when everyone thought she looked like him when she was a baby. “Aunty Yuri taught me that.”
Hobie scrunches his nose. “You ruined it, cheese.” She clearly knows what she's doing based on her cheeky grin. He's her kid alright.
“Dad! Elevator!” Billie, in her blue overalls, holds the elevator doors open. “Hurry!” She stomps her foot impatiently.
“Alright, we're comin’” Entering the elevator, Billie seems to be jumping all over the walls. Maybe he shouldn't have given them ice cream.
Her eyes flit over the various medical posters inside the elevator, feet unconsciously doing a little dance.
Mona tugs at Hobie's hand, beaded bracelets clinking against each other. “You look knackered, dad.” His heart melts.
Patting her head, Hobie's hand is big enough to cover her entire head. Her curls stick out in-between his fingers and the ribbons she hastily tied around her hair. “I am, dovey. But I'll be alright, mum and my babies come first, yeah?”
“But who'll take care of you?” Her eyes gloss over. Billie heard the conversation through her fog of excitement. She holds the sleeve of Hobie's leather jacket like she always does when she's unsure.
He whispers, hands on both of their heads. “I'm Spiderman, innit? If I can handle lizard on my worst day, I can handle this.”
Mona thinks for a second. She smiles once she gets an idea. “Then we'll watch over you then!”
“Mm-hmm!” Billie agrees, “Like mum always does!”
Hobie would've embraced his girls until he lets all his love for them out, but the ring of the doors opening cuts him off. With a sniff, he feels the tears behind his eyes once again.
“You two are already better at this than me,” he softly says as he leads them out of the lift. He has no idea why he worried so much.
Walking past the nurse’s station, both of his babies are holding each of his hands now, hopping and skipping happily. Their curls bounce cutely, getting a nurse’s attention. Hobie recognizes her as one of the nurses that attended to you.
“You two are adorable!” She coos, “d’you girls want a lolly?” Shaking a jar full of colourful lollipops, surprisingly, the girls shake their heads.
“No, thank you, Mum and dad said to not accept any candies from strangers.” Mona puffs out her chest bravely. Her sister agrees, nodding along to her words.
Hobie chuckles whilst the nurse does the same. “It's alright, love, I know her, go take some.” He urges them, still a tad apprehensive, Billie takes one for the team, taking two lollies. Yellow for her, and green for Mona.
“Wait! What about the baby?” Mona exclaims,
Billie knits her eyebrows.
“I don't think your baby brother is allowed to have a lolly yet.” The nurse, naive to what she just revealed, returns back to her desk.
“What?!” They crane their neck up incredibly fast, shock on their faces, letting go of their dad's hand like they've been betrayed.
Hobie's ready to mitigate any tantrums, mouth opening to explain, the twins’ grins grow larger (and cuter) making their dad go through a rollercoaster of emotions.
“We have a baby brother?” Mona says giddily.
“Told you it would work!” Billie takes her sister's hand, bouncing up and down.
“What would work?” Hobie has never been more confused when it comes to his daughters.
“Reverse psychology!” They both speak at the same time.
“We keep saying that we want a baby sister but we actually wanted a brother! Now we've tricked mummy's belly to have a boy instead of a girl!” Billie explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
Hobie doesn't have the heart to tell them that it doesn't work that way. He lets them be, guiding them towards your room as they celebrate their so-called win.
He smiles at them, nodding along. “Yeah, that's great, love— look at that we're here.” Knocking once, he opens the door with a creak.
Billie and Ramona stop from hopping around, peeking inside, they see you sitting up on the bed cradling a bundle of blue blanket.
You smile, shoulders sagging and finally able to relax. Eyes glistening from the mere sight of them alone, (you blame your hormones) you beckon them over.
“My babies,” you softly say, sniffing.
The distinct smell of disinfectant and clean linen immediately has Hobie on dad mode. He remembers the day the girls were born, all shaky legs and clammy hands as the doctor hands them over to him for the first time. Now he has one more bundle to carry, and now he's much more ready and experienced, yet his legs are still wobbly, and his hands are still sweaty. It's like he's back when he first carried his son even though it was just a few hours ago.
He guides Billie and Mona towards your bed, hands on their back, whispering to them. “Indoor voices, mac and cheese. We don't want to scare your brother.”
“Okay.” Mona nods. “Hi, mum, hi little brother.” She softly says, and you scooch to make space for them both on the bed so they could see him better. Mona lifts up her leg carefully, sitting down by your side, planting her face on your bicep. Eyes wide, she holds your hand where you hold your son's tiny leg. “He looks so much like dad. Especially his eyes.” Voice even softer now, you kiss her temple as thanks for being gentle.
Billie has a harder time though, Hobie senses her nerves, whether it's his spidey senses or his dad's intuition, he just knows. Billie is definitely nervous by how she bounces on the balls of her feet, and wrings her hands. He hasn't seen her this anxious since her first recital.
Hobie crouches down, hand on her shoulder, soothing her by mere touch alone. “You alright, Bee?” You watch the interaction in the corner of your eye. Mind still a bit foggy, body still aching, you'd help if not for those feelings.
“Will the baby like me?” She timidly asks her dad, frown deepening on her lips. “What if he hates me?”
“Impossible, angel.” Hobie rubs her back, “he listened to your voice while he was still in mum's belly, and he always moved and wiggled around whenever he heard you. I know he loves you, just like how your mum and I knew that you and Mona would love each other.”
Billie, still his little girl, hugs him right on the spot. Little arms wrapped around his neck, nerves melting off her. Just like how Hobie used to do, he lifts her up, carrying her to your bed.
She sits down right next to her sister, frown immediately gone the moment she lays her eyes on her brother. “He’s so fat.” Giggling, Billie looks at you with the same adoration. “You made him fat, mum.”
You beam at her, you'd embrace both of them if your hands aren't occupied by the sleeping newborn. “It’s because of all the bread and pasta I ate.” Billie and Mona laugh softly, continuing to coo at their brother. Billie sniffs at the blanket, whispering something that sounds like ‘new baby smell.’
Tilting your head at Hobie, eyes tender, you smile at him. Grinning back, he holds your head, placing a heavy kiss on your forehead.
“I was the one who made you all that pasta and bread, you blamin’ me, love?” He says the joke against your temple.
“I'm feeling nice today, so I'm blaming us both. I blame my cravings and I blame you for indulging me.” Moving your head without moving your body to not disturb the baby, (which was a challenge,) you pucker your lips, waiting for him to move. “Told you they'd love him.”
“I should've never doubted you.” With a dramatic sigh, he leans down to kiss you properly.
Now for the next challenge, naming their son. Billie and Mona are already whispering ideas, which includes names ranging from their favourite cartoon characters to even naming them after their uncles. You and Hobie watch on while the baby sleeps soundly, and while your girls argue quietly.
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