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cherrychilli · 3 months

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18+ Steve Harrington x F! reader, established relationship, cockwarming WC:1K

A/N: Will I ever tire of writing about cockwarming Steve? big fat fucking nope. Enjoy!

By the fourth time you walk up to his home office with your teeth clenching the inside of your cheek and your thighs warm from pressing together so often, you know for certain that you wouldn't be able to peel yourself away this time.

On days when Steve worked from home you usually tried not to intrude until he was finished with his work. You always left him to type and scroll and click without distraction but you're forced to break your little rule today, reminded that some urges are just too strong to quell when the throbbing between your legs refuses to yield.

He's yet to notice you watching him from the doorway as he types, quietly taking in the way he's concentrating on his tasks. The light from the monitor reflects off the lenses of his glasses, the same ones he'd once grumbled about having to wear when the Doctor recommended them at his last check up.

He only warmed up to them after all the times you slipped in little comments about how handsome he looked in them. Even now when the woody hazel of his eyes are veiled with a sheen of blues and purples and his hair, now dry from his morning shower and uncombed, hangs over his forehead instead of pushed back like usual.

Stepping inside, you pad over on bare feet, your footsteps muted by the soft carpet beneath your soles as you approach him silently. It's only when your shadow stretches over his keyboard that Steve realizes you've come in, turning away from the computer screen to give you his attention.

"Hey sweet thing", he greets with a smile, lazy but full of warmth.

You try to match it with one of your own though you realize you've already given yourself away when a look of concern overtakes Steve's face, noticing the furrowing of your brow and the soft pout of your lips as he reaches out to take your hand.

"Everything alright?", he swivels his chair round to face you, meeting your stare with his wide, attentive eyes.

"Just wondering if you'll be done soon", you try to keep your tone steady but your voice wavers towards the end, bleeding into a slight whine that he catches easily.

"Gonna be another hour", he tells you with soft, kind eyes and a gentle squeeze of your hand. "What's got you so worked up?"

The question, though expected, leaves you feeling a little frazzled. You can't deny how tightly wound you've become over the last couple of hours just from imagining all the things you'd like for Steve to do to you, a potent mix of tension and yearning gnawing at you from within your belly, your whole body begging for a kind of relief only Steve can provide you.

"I miss you", you reply earnestly before your voice drops into a pointed whisper. "Wanna be close to you".

The way Steve's eyes light up from behind his glasses makes you feel hopeful, happy to see him appear so eager because you know he's caught on now.

"Yeah?" he pulls you closer to stand between his spread legs, lips picking up into a grin. "Feeling needy, huh?"

You're not embarrassed to admit it, leaning in closer to Steve, your lips brushing the shell of his ear, inhaling the lingering scent of the mango shampoo and body wash you both share.

" 's all wet down there. Feels so empty Stevie", you whisper, making sure to flick your tongue over his lobe before you pull away and look at him longingly.

You find him looking more than a little pleased. "Show me", he orders you gently, his gaze following your hands as you curl your fingers around the hem of your dress, lifting it up to let him see underneath.

Your panties are simple, standard white cotton but thin enough that he can easily make up the shape of your pussy underneath, the fabric swallowed up slightly between your folds while the near translucent patch of cotton where your slick had gathered is damp to the touch when he extends a hand to cup you gently.

"Poor baby. Need me to fill you up?", he pouts playfully at you.

You nod, letting out a shaky sigh as he pulls your panties aside, unsticking the wet cotton from your weeping core, lightly brushing his fingers through the hair on your mound before beginning to rub circles over the firm bead of your clit.

"You gonna be good for me and stay still till I finish my work?", he asks next, leaning forward to press a quick kiss just above your clit.

"Yes", you nearly squeak, his fingers closing around your clit to pinch it softly, rolling the sensitive pearl between his thumb and forefinger.

"Come here then", he grins.

Elated, you let your skirt drop, reaching under it to pull your panties down past your knees and step out of them when they pool around your ankles, letting the undergarment rest on the floor to be picked up later.

Steve gets himself ready too, pulling his jeans and boxers down to his ankles with ease, his cock still mostly soft but starting to harden as you move to straddle his thighs first.

You start by licking your palm, both of your eyes fixed on the way you wrap your wet fingers around his length and begin to stroke him until he firms up completely in your hand.

"Can I? please?", you look to Steve, your breathing almost labored because of how close you are to what you've been craving all day.

"Yeah, go on sweetheart", he replies, cradling your cheek and pulling you in for a kiss before you balance yourself of your knees, hands on his shoulders and with Steve's hands secure on your hips to help keep you steady.

Aligning your entrance with the tip of his cock, your skirt fans out around you, feeling Steve's tip press past your folds and bump your hole. You're able to have him push through with a little effort, popping inside and easing the rest of him inside you while you sink down inch by inch, swallowing his length as your walls keep a tight grip on him down to his base, your built up arousal leaking all around him.

"Thank you, Steve", you sigh blissfully, so relieved to be full, no longer battling that ache that'd formed when you were empty.

"That's my girl. Sure you can hang on till I finish this up?", he rubs a hand down your back to soothe you while you hook your chin over his shoulder, humming back contently.

He pats you lightly on the ass, a soft chuckle making his chest rumble against yours. "Good. And don't get too comfortable, okay? I'm not even close to being done with you yet".

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #steve harrington x reader

933 notes · View notes

michaellangdonswhore · 1 year

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warnings: again, smut. put me in a fucking hospital.

word count: 5.5k

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You were, by far, Jonathan Crane's least favorite student.

You knew it, and it was complete bullshit. You were always on time, always in every class, and always completed the work. You had always had such good grades in every class, but not with him.

While not giving you the worst grade imaginable, you were never able to get over an A-, which pissed you the fuck off. Obviously, to any other normal student studying psychology, they'd take the A-, but not you.

And again, nothing over an A-. There was the frequent B+, sometimes B, and when you really pissed him off he would go as low as a B-.

You've done everything you could to get him to like you. You would ask questions, clearly put extra effort into the homework, and even applied to laboratory studies that he ran. You hated not being liked.

However, at this point in the year, you had given up on trying. You still did everything you were supposed to do, because you wanted a good grade, but you hadn't bothered participating or showing any interest anymore. You had decided to focus more on your other classes. Due to this, you had been working late into the night, causing you to be exhausted for your 8 AM lectures with Crane.

You were exhausted, trying to pay attention. Your head hurt so much for looking at a screen for so long last night.

Crane is flipping through a slideshow, and you find yourself dozing. It's not that this stuff bored you, you had just already learned it back when you took AP Psych your sophomore year of high school.

You snap back into reality when you hear your name being called.

Crane is singling you out with an annoyed expression on his face. You turn red because everyone, all 400 other people in the class, are staring at you.

"I'm sorry. Is this boring you?" He puts his hands on his hips.

"No-" You begin.

You're stammering. You normally don't have such a rough time with public speaking, but being downright exhausted and being singled out for nearly falling asleep in class is extremely embarrassing.

He pauses for a moment and stares you down.

You feel as if you were naked, as if you were completely exposed to him. You didn't like him looking at you like that, like he was taking into account every imperfection.

"As I was saying..."

Thank god.

He resumes to what he was talking about before and you're more alert, heart pumping full of humiliation. You're taking notes now, typing quickly and probably annoyingly loud (you can tell because he keeps shooting you small glares every time you hit the spacebar).

Finally, the hour is up and he reminds everyone about the homework due that Friday. You collect your stuff and head out the door. You don't realize, but he watches you leave.

Everything you do irks him.

Maybe it was because your first paper challenged his psychological beliefs, or because your intelligence challenged him in general. But literally everything about you pisses him off.

Your loud typing, your questions that challenges his lectures, how you turn everything in on time, how you flawlessly converse with the other students. He is so desperately waiting for you to slip up.

As previously stated, you were putting less effort than before into his class. He picked up on this. You were turning your papers and chapter readings in the last minute, you weren't asking questions, and you were even falling asleep.

You had three days to complete a portion of the assignments given. You completely forgot about it.

Due to your tiredness and your weakening desire to try for the class, you had forgotten to write down the homework in a planner that you always checked daily.

Crane is a quick grader, and usually he always grades your homework first; more specifically, as soon as you turn it in.

You realized you didn't do the work as soon as you woke up that morning for your 8 AM class. You had never ever missed an assignment. Ever. And you had no time to do it and make it to his class on time. You were freaking the fuck out.

It's okay. Maybe he hasn't graded it yet.

But no. He was such a strict grader. He was harsh.

Whatever. You may as well hope for the best.

To distract yourself from your predicament, you talk to the boy who sits next to you in the class. It's just smalltalk about the workload and about an upcoming test.

You stop talking when Crane clears his throat. You shift back in your seat and open your laptop.

"It's a Friday. It's 8 AM," Crane begins. You think this is going to be the introduction of a psychological speech. "For all 399 of you that did your homework last night, go enjoy your Friday morning."

People being looking around and whispering, not sure if this is a trick, but you know it's not.

You're freaking out. Your heart is racing and you cannot believe that he would actually do this to you. Usually teachers will just give you a bad grade and call it that, but to single you out and have the entire class leave except for you is an all time low.

"I'm not messing with you," Crane continues. "Go. You know who you are."

He's looking at you dead in the eye and you stay put as people slowly get up to leave, looking around to make sure others are doing the same. You avoid his gaze, looking at your computer screen.

Soon enough, everyone is out of the large lecture room, some looking back to see the one person who didn't do their work.

Once the door is shut, and everyone is completely out of sight, Crane locks both of the doors and looks up at you.

"Are you deliberately trying to fail my class?" He questions. "I thought you wanted to be outstanding."

You can't find words to say. He scoffs and moves to his desk, shuffling through papers and bringing out a decently large stack to over to you. It feels like hours pass by as he walks up the steps to you and drops them onto your desk.

You look at them, confused.

"This is the homework that was due at midnight." He explains.

"It's never so much..." You stammer. You can feel his hatred burning into your skin.

"It's what's due next Wednesday, Friday, and the following week too. Let's see if you can get this done by.... hm," He checks his watch. "By the end of the period?"

"All of this?" Your eyes widen.

"When's your next class?" He asks.

"You're my only one today." You continue to avoid his eye contact.

"Then you can stay." He says. "Until you finish all the work."

"But-"

"I can't trust that you'll do it." Crane says, taking a step back from you. "You need to complete it. In front of me."

"Please, Professor," You try to defend yourself. "I've been-"

"I can assume what you've been doing, you've almost fallen asleep in my class." He scoffs.

You feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment over him getting the wrong impression. Does he really think that low of you?

You take a deep breath. You'll just have to deal with this.

"Do you have a pencil?"

He grabs a black pen from his desk and looks up to you, motioning to sit in the front row. Close enough. You swallow your pride and grab your things and the stack of paper, walking down to the seats in the front.

The class itself is an hour, but it took you almost five to complete the amount of homework he gave you. The readings were long, and the quality of work was demanding. You were eager to do well, to prove yourself.

You hate that he hated you.

His eyes were on you the entire time you did your work. The silence was loud, but you pushed through it. You got three weeks of homework done, and proudly put the stack back onto his desk.

"I'll see you Monday, Professor," you smile, then walk away.

After that, you tried harder; harder than you tried compared to every other class you took. You did this, not to get him to like you- but to get back at him with the fact that you knew your shit; you were a good student. You sat in the front, did side research, and spent nights studying for his endless quizzes. And he wanted to fail you to make you stop what you were doing, but you were getting all the answers right and you both knew that. He wouldn't want you taking anything to the next level.

With you in the front, it made it harder for him to not be distracted by you. Mid speech he would find himself locking eyes with you, disrupting his words and leaving him stammering for a brief moment. Ever since you've upped the eye contact, you've gained more control of the situation.

You arrived in class that Wednesday; the situation in which Crane forced you to stay and do two weeks worth of work in front of him occurred around three weeks ago. You're sitting in the front in between two empty seats; no one likes to sit in the front in Crane's class. It's usually only filled with around three to four people. Crane isn't in class yet, which is weird considering he's always there early, before anyone else even gets there. The class is almost about to begin and he's never been late.

Soon enough, it's one minute after the class is supposed to start and he's still not there. You start feeling antsy, wondering where he is.

Finally, he walks in; two minutes after class is supposed to start. So unlike him.

He places his briefcase on the desk and begins setting up his computer while everyone takes out something to take notes with.

"Now, you all know what I specialize in, I hope," He states, not breaking eye contact with his computer.

He specialized in phobias. Apart from dedicating his time to teaching you, he was a therapist mainly for fears.

"I'm sure we all know what exposure therapy is, correct?" He asks. Pretty much the whole class nods in unison. "Good. For those of you not on the same page, it's the type of therapy which someone is exposed to their fear or trauma."

He begins flipping through his slideshow, giving more and more information and lecturing about it, but you can't help but notice it's an almost bias review.

You're left with homework to write a review on some boring documentary on the history of exposure therapy and a pretty long excerpt of the textbook you all were reading.

So, you did your work and followed all of the instructions. You wrote a review on exposure therapy.

The next Monday, you get to class and you sit in the front row. There's a big stack of paper on Crane's desk, and you assuming that you're getting a pop-quiz, but no, that's not the case.

Crane's waiting for everyone with his shoulder rested on the large stack of papers. Once the time hits 8, he begins.

"I printed out all of your outlines," He begins. "I've made some comments and given some feedback. We'll spend the class working on them."

He starts calling out names and one by one, people receive their papers. You're sort of anxious- you left a pretty negative review on exposure therapy, something that he seemed so passionate about.

"Y/N Y/L/N." He says, saying your voice with more of an annoyed tone than the other students. You get up and grab your paper from his hands, tugging harder due to his firm grip. Clearing his throat, he continues calling out the following names. You go back to your seat, nervous to look at the paper. When you sit and look at it, your stomach dropped.

There's nothing on the front page. Then you look at the second.

See me after class.

There is literally nothing but a see me after class.

Oh my god.

What did I do?

Was he offended at all by what was written? Surely, that wasn't your intention... yes, you wanted to piss him off, but you had some respect for him. You didn't want to actually maybe- make him insecure about his work?

Class seemed to take hours to go by; you didn't even know what to do about your paper. He gave no other feedback other than to see him after class. How were you supposed to work with that?

You looked around at your classmates typing away. You're annoyed that he actually helped them.

See me after class.

At least give me feedback on my fucking paper.

Everyone then realized the time and began to pack up. Crane stood up from his desk and took his glasses off.

"Remember, papers are due Friday!" He manages to get out before people start heading out the door.

You put your things in your bag, trying to act out to your classmates as if you were leaving. You felt so embarrassed. You hated how he kept embarrassing you and how he had the power to do that. It was infuriating. You felt him staring at you as you packed your stuff up, moving slower, nervous that he would call you out.

You took your time, though, waiting till everyone was out of the room.

With everyone else there, you felt so confident. You were one of the smart ones and you at least had witnesses, but alone with him? You were completely inferior. He could quite literally ruin your life with a bad grade and could easily tarnish your image, being the head of Arkham and all that.

"I found your paper quite interesting," He says, emphasizing quite.

"I'm sorry-" you begin. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Offend me?" He scoffs. "You think you offended me?"

"I just- I know this is what you do, right?" You stammer.

"I'm interested in your point of view." He says. "About the pain, how it's long term. I'm interested as to why you seem so against it."

You shrug.

"What's your biggest fear, Y/N?" He asks you. "What is it? Failure?"

"I'm not trying to fail."

"Oh, yes, you've proven that." He clicks his tongue. "Sitting in the front, turning things in quickly, wearing shorter skirts. Don't think I don't notice what you're doing."

"What?"

"You write intensely about the struggle that people with PTSD-"

"Wait," you interrupt him. "What did you say?"

"I'm trying to discuss with you what you've written."

"Professor, my clothing choices have nothing to do with me wanting to do well in this class," you say. Now you're offended.

Instead of apologizing, which is what you think any decent person would do, he looks you up and down and scoffs.

"You're wearing tights."

"What?"

"Surely, those must be uncomfortable. You're not wearing those to satisfy yourself," he says.

You grow red, and angry.

He keeps humiliating you.

"Who are you trying to impress?"

"Will you stop?" you groan in frustration. "Why don't you just let me get by like you let everyone else get by? I do everything you ask!"

"I want to know who you're trying to impress."

"I'm not trying to impress anyone," you hiss, finally looking up at his crystal eyes.

You know it's disrespectful, but you turn to walk away and to leave.

"No, no. We're not done."

You ignore him, walking towards the door, but he quickly beats you to it, shutting it and locking you in.

"I said we're not done." He said, completely composed. "Sit."

"I want to leave."

"Your biggest fear is failure, yes?" He questions. You don't nod or shake your head, but it is pretty much true; you hate failing. You need to succeed and be good at everything you do. "Sit. I can very much make that fear come true."

"I do everything," you repeat. "Everything. I do it on time, I'm here always, I'm prepared for everything."

"Can you just fucking-" He pushes you down onto the seat next to his desk. "Sit?"

You weren't expecting him to physically force you to sit down, but you could pick up on the pent up frustration he had with you.

"The off the cut sweater, no bra-" He points out.

You weren't wearing a bra. You were surprised he had picked up on the fact- you could've been wearing a strapless, but no. He was right.

"Are you even wearing underwear?" He whispers.

You're flushed.

What the fuck was going on?

You thought he hated you.

And yeah, you knew he was an attractive man, that's what made this whole thing pretty exciting, but you never thought you would be sat down with him leaning over you saying things like this.

"Let me see."

"Professor?"

He grabs you off the chair and pushes you onto his desk, spreading your legs for you. Everything was moving too quickly; this all felt like a fever dream.

He tugs at the middle of your tights, ripping them open to expose your- and he was right- bare pussy. He lets out a chuckle.

"You're not trying to impress anyone?" He questions, again, peering up at you.

You try moving your thigh to cover yourself, but he forcefully keeps them open.

"Who was that boy you used to sit next to... Tim, is it?"

To be honest, you really didn't know that kids name. He was just someone you sat next to out of habit since you had picked that seat the first day of classes. But you hadn't been sitting with him for weeks at that point.

"Is Tim who you're trying to impress?"

"No!" You argue, still trying to fight the grip of his hand off your thigh. "I told you... I'm not trying to impress anyone."

"Hm." He says, placing two fingers on exactly the right spot of your clit, slowly rubbing in circles. . "You're not even trying to impress me?"

You stay silent, for a brief moment.

"Not in this way..."

But it's past that point now. He's already touching you, rubbing faster, and your exposed pussy is laid out right in front of his face. You're embarrassed and self conscious. He's too close for comfort.

"Yeah?"

The fingers once on your clit are now entering you. You still can't comprehend the situation.

But for him, he was putting you in your place. It was enough of the looks in class, the semi sexual and revealing clothing, the obvious need for his approval and to show him she was as smart- maybe even smarter than him himself.

"Is that why you're letting me touch you like this?" He asks, using the two fingers to pump your pussy.

It's out of your control but you're getting wetter the longer and faster he fingers you. It's beginning to show, beginning to drip down his fingers and onto his wrists. He notices this, then stops and looks.

"Disgusting," He huffs before licking his fingers clean.

"That's disgusting," You repeat at him, glaring a little, but you can't help but want his finger- more of him back inside you. You feel empty, desperate for his hands back on you.

"I don't see you asking me to stop."

You're silent, again.

He smiles, kneeling back down and spreading your legs open again, this time with a more forceful grip. He doesn't use his fingers this time, devouring you with his hot mouth and basically digging in.

He was really good at this. To be fair, no one had ever actually eaten you out, but you had never felt anything like it. He moves his fingers towards you again and fucks you with them as he sucks and licks at your clit. He was freakishly good. You felt something drip down your thigh; you didn't know if you were sweating or if you were fucking leaking. By the sound of it, probably the second one.

He removes his fingers and dives deep into your pussy more, making obscure sounds as he does so. He stops and looks up at you.

"Take your shirt off. I want to see your tits," he demands.

You comply; he's already seen a lot.

"Fuck, they're perfect." He says, now standing over you, playing with them and poking and twisting at your hardened nipple. He's pushing his hardened clothed dick into your bare pussy, giving you some friction has he sucks on your neck and plays with your nipples.

He grabs your hips and flips you over, putting you on your stomach and leaning you over the desk.

He kneels back down, eating your pussy again; he can't get enough of it. He can't get enough of the small whines escaping your throat and the way you leak and how you shake when it feels good- or when the pleasure becomes too much.

He adds his fingers in again, this time three, and you let out a louder, but not too loud, moan than usual.

"Professor-"

"You can take it." He assures you. "You better take it. If you can't take this how can you take my cock?"

You just weren't used to it- you had been fucked, but not for so long. He keeps licking and devouring your clit while pumping in and out of you. You feel so full- on the brink. You feel hot, and god you feel good. You don't even realize it, but you're riding his mouth and his fingers.

"You know, I wasn't going to let you come," Crane begins between breaths, keeping his face close to your pussy so you could still feel him. "But now that I think about it... I want you cum drunk on my dick. I wanna make you cum over and over again until you're a fucking mess."

He goes back to sloppily and messily eating you out again. It was so dirty; the noise, what was leaking out of you. You then felt that familiar feeling and you couldn't stop it; no matter how wrong this felt or how humiliated and exposed you felt, you couldn't stop yourself from moaning like a mess and cumming all over his mouth.

You needed a second to recover, but he stood up and grinded his clothed dick against you. You weren't ready for the friction, wincing over the contact with you sensitive clit. He grabbed your neck and pulls your back to him, kissing you, continuing to grind.

He unbuttons his pants and undoes his boxers, his large thick cock springing out, begging to be touched. He pushes one of your legs up onto the desk to give him better access to you.

"You're fucking soaked," He says as he teases himself some more, collecting what's came out of you as some lubricant.

He keeps rubbing your clit and the outside with his dick, back and forth. It feels good, but it's not enough. He pushes harder with his dick on your clit, continuing to hump you.

"Professor, please," you look back at him, trying to guilt him into giving in and fucking you, but it's not that easy.

"Shut up, and let me take my time." He says. He continues this for a little, before getting a new idea. "I want you to cum on my cock without me fucking you."

"What?"

He pulls you towards him then on his lap on the chair next to his desk.

"Grind on it." He demands, holding you in place by your hips. "Get it soaked."

You hesitate, but he's impatient. He pushes you down and moves your hips for you until you begin to do it with him. You grind your pussy against his cock, stimulating your clit once more. It didn't feel as good as his mouth, and god it probably didn't feel as good as his dick would feel inside you, but it felt good. And you were so fucking horny, you were on the brink of cumming again.

"Yeah, yeah, you got it," he praised you, rocking your hips back and forth. He digs his nails into your hips, definitely leaving some cuts in your skin, but you didn't care. You were so close. He begins to bounce up, pretending to thrust into you, adding to your pleasure. "That's it, you- oh fuck, yes, cum on my fucking dick."

You're dripping onto him as you ride out your high, clenching around nothing. It seems to last for a while, wrapped up in all the pleasure combined with his dirty talk.

He angles his cock towards your entrance and pushes into you- he feels hot and he's sensitive due to teasing himself. But no- he doesn't want to cum yet. He wants to put you in your fucking place. And even if he does cum, he has no issue continuing and even fucking a baby into you. Then, you'd have to walk around with the shame.

He gently picks you up, but then harshly slams you up and down repeatedly onto his cock. You've had no time to readjust after cumming a second time, and you were extremely sensitive.

"Slower, professor, please," You cry, burying your face into his shoulder. "It hurts..."

"Shut the fuck up."

He grabs you by the neck and pounds up into you, rubbing your clit as well to add to the sensation.

Yes, it feels good, but it's so overwhelming you can't help but tear up. Crane notices this and it goes straight to his head.

"Are you fucking crying?" He scoffs. "Fucking crying for me?"

He picks you up, keeping you firmly attached to his dick, and throws you over the desk again. He's fucking you deeper and at an animalistic pace; like he fucking needs this.

"Keep crying for me. Keep fucking crying."

He harshly grips your tits, twisting your nipple in the process.

"Fucking perfect tits, perfect pussy, perfect everything. You fucking strive for perfection- but you're letting me fucking ruin you. Is this how far you'd go for a good grade?" He laughs, fingers deep in your clit.

You can only moan in response, but this doesn't satisfy him.

"Fucking answer me."

"Yes," you cry out.

"Yeah, you're just a fucking whore who'd sleep her way to the top if that's what it took." He says, tugging your hair back, your sweaty bodies pressed closer together.

His words are filthy, but you're fucking cumming again.

He's laughing, mocking you for doing so.

"You fucking like being treated like a bitch, don't you?" He says, fucking you through your third orgasm. You don't know how he's not tired. As you expect, he doesn't give you a fucking break. You're worn out at this point; almost numb.

"Professor, I don't know-"

"You don't know if you can keep going?" He questions. "Yeah, you can. I'll fucking make you keep going. What was that... your third orgasm? Let me see if I can double that."

"Professor..."

"I'll stop when you give me three more."

You feel like you're going to pass out; the pleasure had become too much, but you were so fucking sensitive that a fourth one had come quickly. Your pussy was so swollen and red, but he had not gotten off of you.

"You're fucking..." He brings you back to the chair and places you on top of him. "You're fucking leaking all over me, fucking hell. So wet... do you hear yourself?"

You could hear yourself. It was disgusting. It was filthy.

"Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks. He slows down his pace, and you know he's teasing you. "Embarrassed that you're whoring yourself out to me like this? To a professor that so clearly disliked you? This is what you do for my approval."

He slows his pace some more.

"Would you do this for any other professor, Y/N? Let them fuck your pussy till you have nothing left to give? Bounce on their cock the way you do for me?"

"No, professor," you shake your head, trying to bounce faster but he keeps your hips in place, restricting you. He had succeeded- made you cum drunk and fucked you stupid, but this wasn't enough. He needed more. "No, no, only you. I'd only do this for you."

You're squirming around on his dick. He's stopped moving at this point, just staying in you.

"Stop fucking moving around. Don't you want to impress me?"

"Have I not?" You begin to regain some of your strength with this somewhat of a break he was giving you. "Have I not impressed you, professor?"

You give him puppy eyes as you gain some control of the situation, his grip loosing and you bouncing on his cock at a pace you like.

"I want to impress you, professor," you say seductively. "I want to- fuck!"

You start chasing your high again, you didn't even realize that you'd ever be able to cum this many times.

"Fuck!" You repeat. Crane is letting you take control, enjoying the show of you riding his cock, using him for your pleasure. "Do you like this, professor? Do you like when I fucking bounce on your dick like this?"

You had never heard yourself like this, or ever expected to talk like this. You had never felt so confident.

"Have you imagined this professor?" You continue. He's obviously at a loss for words, not expecting this side of you. "Have you imagined fucking me? Have you imagined bending me over your desk and eating me out till I came all over your face? My tits? Putting me in my fucking place?"

His hands found your hips again and he's helping you ride his cock. He's loving the words coming from your mouth.

"God, I think you wanted this more than I did," you laugh. You're so close. You wanted him to talk, but his reactions to your words were enough for you. "Make me cum again, professor, please. I- fuck!"

He's pushing into you and bouncing you up and down quickly and you're riding out your fifth orgasm.

He pulls you off of him and lays you out on the desk again, licking up your sore pussy. He hums while doing this, telling you how you taste so good. You're so- so sensitive, though, and you can't help but cumming on his tongue again not even seconds later, letting out a string of incoherent words.

That's six.

You look at him, but he's positioning himself in you.

"You said six-"

"I say a lot of things. I want you to cum on my cock again." He says, kissing your neck. "Last time. I promise."

He pumps into you, at a softer, but still quick pace. You feel so incredibly numb, but he still manages to work you up quickly while fondling your breasts and pressing hot kisses into your neck.

"Ah- fuck." He pants, fucking himself into you. "Fuck... gonna cum in you. Want you to fucking carry me around for the rest of the fucking day."

You don't object- your hearing was probably a little impaired at this point.

"Yeah, you want that, don't you. It's like a fucking award to you."

He's holding you closer now. You both are so sweaty and sticky.

You're about to cum again, but he grabs your throat tightly.

"Fucking wait for me. Don't be impatient."

As hard as it is, you listen to him. He speeds up, becoming sloppy before he cries, "Fuck, cum! Cum all over my fucking- ahhh, yes, fuck."

He shoots hot loads into you as you clench around him, milking more out of him. He doesn't stop, continuing to fuck you until every last bit of his seed has marked you. Even after he's done, he gets a few more strokes in before he pulls out, showing the combination of you and him leaking out of your pussy. He pushes you onto the floor and presents his dick in front of him.

"Clean it."

You obey, wrapping your mouth on his cock and licking away the filth that the two of you made. He groans and pulls you off of him.

"You'll get me hard again." He says.

He puts all his clothes back on and hands you your sweater. Your nipples are hard, poking through them now.

"I look forward to your next draft of your review." Crane says calmly, as if what just happened didn't happen.

"You- um..." you stammer, brushing your fingers through your hair. "You didn't give me any notes."

"I didn't?" He questioned. You shook your head. "Well, stay again after class next session. I'll go over it, personally, with you."

"Oh." You blush. "This wasn't a one time thing?"

"Y/N..." Crane looks at the floor. "I'm your professor."

You felt awkward. Of course it was a one time thing; how could it not be?

But then he looks back up at you.

"You don't want to fail my class, do you?"

#jonathan crane #dc scarecrow #scarecrow #the scarecrow #batman imagine #the batman #batman #the dark knight #cillian x reader #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n #cillain murphy #jonathan crane smut

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perdidosbucky-yyo · 3 months

Text

Find the joy

Drabble

Pairing: Mechanic!Steve Rogers x Reader (no mention of body type or ethnicity)

Summary: When it rains it pours.

Warnings: angsty angst, serious money problems, implied sick parent and I think that's it, pls let me know if I missed something <3

a/n: i saw this gifset by @meidui and Steve's sad lil face unleashed this 😭 sometimes it's hard not having enough money to live comfortably guys, taking the bus every day, buying the cheapest brand at the grocery store, seeing my mom cry bc she can't quit the job she hates, sigh... it was nice to imagine going through it with Steve :')

wc: 1.1k

When you were younger you always assumed once you met that person who is supposed to love you as you are, always and forever, life's problems would cease to exist, because you found the love of your life.

After your first heartbreak, you realized you were sorely mistaken, you felt stupid for ever believing that fairytale.

Life is cruel and often unfair, whether it was the environment or politics, the world kept on letting you down, your whole life you worked hard for the bare minimum, your mother worked two jobs to pay for college, while watching others live life just a bit easier, or at least not worrying if they could afford groceries that week.

Despite your differences, you were grateful for having a strong mother, she taught you to find joy in the mundane and to never allow your worries to overpower your spirit for too long, because there is joy in the world, the trick is to find it.

For a long time, after countless jerks and disappointments, you thought love was just a glorified infatuation, maybe your career was enough... you'd make it be enough.

But one early morning, on your way to a job interview, your mother's car broke down, but as tears were already staining your freshly steamed blouse, you realized you had the card for a mechanic, the best one in the city according to your sister.

After calling, you expected the Mario bros but instead, the most beautiful men you'd ever seen in your life drove in, while the 6'0'' brunette checked out your car, you felt weirdly comfortable enough to sob about your missed opportunity to the 6'2'' blonde.

By the time you were dying your tears, Steve you'd learned his name was, wouldn't have it, offering to give you a ride to your interview, you were about to kiss him on the spot but instead promised him a date if you got the job.

You didn't get the job, but you still called Steve, he was unlike anyone you'd ever met, loyal, kind borderline bleeding heart, chivalrous, romantic, and a goody two shoes.

Now, after almost 10 years together, and 5 of them married, you never doubted the existence of love again, you felt it with every heartbeat, you saw it in his eyes every day.

But life was still life despite being married to the love of your life.

Cats and dogs poured down as you closed the door behind you, shaking off your pink water boots you cursed yourself when you got mud on the floor.

It was past 7pm so you knew Steve was home, he'd usually be making dinner with Marvin Gaye in the background, but the apartment was quiet, with only the rain to fill the silence.

You found in the kitchen a pizza box waiting to be eaten so now you were sure he was home, and since the apartment only had 3 bedrooms, there could only be one other place he could be.

And there he was, sitting in the rain on the fire escape, shoulders down, as his eyes admired the rain.

Worry weighed down in your bones, and in seconds you were by his side, placing a hand on his back to rub, his broad shoulders tensed as he shook his head.

He'd always welcomed your touch, and now he wouldn't even look at you... "Honey what's wrong?" you whispered, afraid of the answer.

Over the years Steve has been your rock, he was calm in a crisis and often grounded you when you needed it, if Steve was known for one thing, it was that he always gets back up again, and as you watched the defeat underlining his eyes it made your stomach churn seeing him like this.

When you saw a single tear roll down his cheek, nothing mattered anymore and you only wanted to comfort him, sitting on his lap, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your hands cupped his face against your chest.

As you kissed his temple you felt his whole body relax "I got fired" he croaked, and then silence.

You don't know for how long you stayed like that, you wouldn't let each other go, maybe hoping the rain would wash away your troubles, or maybe just not ready to talk yet.

His big hands traced your back softly as he sniffed, he could feel your skin was freezing cold, that's when he gripped you and finally carried you inside, not stopping until he reached the bathroom.

He thought about making a nice warm bath but before he could, he remembered the water bill, and now that he was out of a job, you'd have to be even more careful with your expenses.

As he turned on the water, you sensed his unease so you started to slowly get him out of his uniform, peppering kisses as more and more skin was exposed, and as he let out a shuddering breath of relief, you gave him a small smile.

After you finished lathering soap on each other and washing your hair, he was about to step out when you held onto his bicep, "Stay", his eyes told you he wanted to indulge you, and you knew he also needed comfort, but he shook his head.

"just for 2 minutes" you encouraged "I won't shower tomorrow" you giggled but only got a subtle smile in return.

As he towered over you again, his hands rested on your back as he embraced you, but when you sighed into his chest, he released you and stepped out of the shower.

turning off the water and wrapping yourself in a towel, you followed behind, but before you could say a word, he was already in his gray sweatpants and sitting on the edge of the bed with his head between his hands.

Taking his hands in yours, his head now rested against your stomach, "we'll be o-"

"Are you happy?" Steve's voice trembled, his eyes shining with the threat of tears as he looked into yours. As you thought of your answer for a second, your hands cupped his face "Not right now" you muttered honestly, he fiscally recoiled but you gripped his face still, begging him to listen to you.

"It's been hard" you exhale "paying off the car, taking care of my mom", now it was your voice that threatened to break, "We wanted to start trying" you lamented and Steve instinctively kissed the inside of your wrist and nodded in response.

"We have to look for the joy" he whispered your mother's words, you smiled and let yourself be wrapped up in his arms, "I've loved you and our marriage every single moment of it," you said into his ear, "as long as we get through it together, we'll be ok".

"I love you" he promised, as he pulled you under the covers, pressed against him, there was nothing more left to say that night, you would talk more in the morning, and as the rain washed away the day, Steve never let go.

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #mechanic!steve rogers #chris evans #marvel fanfiction #carrot's harvest

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sturnsreader · 10 months

Text

sleeping in

part 1 of 6

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

you and chris were never the type to sleep in, but after you stay up all night watching tiktok’s together you could imagine how difficult it would be to get out of bed the next day. especially if that time is 7 in the morning when you had gone to sleep at 3 in the morning.

you groaned as the ear bleeding alarm rang throughout your ears. you rolled over to stop the alarm and checked the time, it hurt your head seeing the early time. you turned your head to the window to find it still pitch black outside, then to chris, fast asleep in his bed; the street lights from outside barely lighting up the room and his face. you realized how awful you would feel if you had to wake him up right now and tell him he needed to go do a show with matt and nick. so instead of doing exactly that, you turned your phone face down and scooted closer to your boyfriend and placed your head on his chest and fell back asleep immediately.

you were woken up hours later to shuffling around the room and muttering. you fluttered your eyes opened and slightly tilted your head up to find chris running around the room collecting his things then tugging his shirt off.

"shit, shit, shit, shit!" he mumbled while throwing on a hoodie.

"chris?" you asked sitting up. "what time is it?"

"12:30!" he exclaimed with stress in his voice

chris slid on his shoes and grabbed his phone.

"babe, we need to go, please hurry!"

"w-what, why?" you stuttered with a whine. hearing those words made you want to dig a hole and never come back out.

"remember the show..? we stayed up until three in the morning.. and it’s in ten minutes!" chris ran a hand through his hair.

"fuck! i forgot!"

you practically jumped out of the bed and dug through your bag of clothes for an outfit and hurried to the bathroom and changed and quickly did some makeup and tied your converse on.

you met chris at the front door and you guys ran out of the house and to the car and you drove to the directions nick gave you.

"we made it!" chris smiled at you as you both panted.

as soon as you seen nick you gave him a big hug. “omfg babe you look so good” he said with a smile.

“you were almost late and didn’t answer my texts.” matt said to chris after you gave him a side hug.

"we just slept in." he told nick and matt. "it's not a big deal.”

chris scoffed and grabbed your hand, you turned around as you hold onto chris’ arm and waved at matt and nick. you walked together until the show started and more people showed up. chris hesitantly walked up on stage. right when we walked on every kids head turned to the both of you. it was your first time doing a big thing like this with him. your attention turned to two girls whispering and laughing to each other. you rolled your eyes at them and stood closer to chris. chris took your hand and smiled at you. a guy cat called you from the front of the crowd. you ignored him as chris flipped him off.

you look at chris while him, matt, and nick talk to the big crowd. you turned around to see the guy that cat called you to be smirking at you, you scrunched your nose in disgust and turned back around and turned your head to chris to find him very concentrated on the first question he was answering. he ran his fingers through his hair. his nose all scrunched up and you couldn't help but just melt at the sight of him.

time passed and chris had started talking, it made you really anxious from the amount of people staring at you. your leg started shaking and your foot started tapping. chris luckily noticed the sudden movement and placed his hand on my thigh and gently squeezed while rubbing it with his thumb. the tapping slowly came to a stop, but he didn't move his hand off.

"what's going on, mama?"

you tore your gaze away from the crowd as he was trying to get your attention.

"i'm just stressed out, it's okay." you huffed a laugh.

"hey," chris scooted closer towards you.

"it's okay, baby. do you want to talk instead of me so people can hear it from you instead of me?"

you looked up to nick as he was speaking, nick knew that you wanted to speak so he got up and gave you the mic. you turned to chris with a smile as he smiled back. usually, you guys liked to keep these moments to yourselves. you guys found it extremely soapy for couples to be like this in public, but in this moment all you wanted to do was kiss him; and you knew that was what he wanted by the little sparkle in his eyes. so, you quickly pressed your lips to his, closing the gap between you two.

you guys quickly pulled away and chris took a quick glance around. you started speaking, all four of you making jokes. you even told the crowd how you knew you were in love with chris.

the dude who cat called you was now staring at you. chris was pissed. you could see the red on his face. chris gave him a cold look, wishing he would wipe that ugly smirk off of his face.

"baby, are you okay?" you questioned catching chris's attention again.

"pay no attention to him, ma." he said in anger

you ignored it and started speaking again. chris stayed close by the rest of the time. soon, the show was finished and you walked off stage hugging nick and laughing. the dude who was staring at you the whole show was right behind us.

as you were walking back he caught your attention.

"you smell great, y/n. nice body too” he said as he licked his lips

you turned to face the boy.

“uh, who are you”

“micheal. you really are sexy as f-“

he was cut off suddenly by chris.

“the fucks wrong with you, bitch. back the fuck off.”

he stayed silent. staring me up and down.

”chris what's going on?” you whispered to him.

you watched chris as he pushed micheal’s shoulders “speak up motherfucker!” chris said with such anger. you have never seen him so angry.

you rolled your eyes and looked to chris who was biting his lip.

you started walking away when suddenly there was a slap at your ass. you first turned to chris with widened eyes but then heard laughing from behind you.

"shit! i got her good!" michael laughed.

chris's jaw clenched in pure anger.

"chris-let's just go." you tried to walk away with him but he stayed still like a stone.

"the fuck was that?" chris took a step closer.

"alright, tough guy." michael chuckled.

"chris." you said sternly.

chris turned to you a second later, but he didn't look you in the eyes.

"look at me." his eyes quickly met yours. "leave it. i'm fine. let's go."

chris took your hand and you guys didn't turn back as you started to walk off.

"yeah, that's right, walk away like a little baby." michael laughed.

chris had enough, he quickly turned around and punched him right in the face; making him fall to the floor. you gasped in utter shock as you saw michael's nose start to bleed.

"fuck! chris!" you quickly grabbed his wrist and ran with him all the way to the car.

you faced him and took a deep breath, his blue eyes staring at you apologetic.

"are you angry?" chris asked with a slight frown on his face.

"no, baby, no." you took a breath. "just... overwhelmed."

chris took your hand gently. "i'm sorry. i was just really angry and lost it." he frowned once more at you.

"hey, it's okay. that was a nasty thing of him to do."

you pulled chris in and tightly hugged him as he hugged you back then kissed your head. you always knew you couldn't stay mad at chris, it's impossible to.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

ahhhhh my first story posted !!!

hope you enjoyed (this is only part ONE of SIX, the GOOD stuff is coming soon) 🎀🐩🦴🦇

#chris sturniolo #fanfic #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #ao3 #christopher sturniolo #kms instead how about that #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #sleeping in #zoeymadysonn #sturniolo fanfic #my man my man my man

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forthechubbies · 1 year

Text

Watch out for strangers //Boxer! Bad Boy Au x Chubby! reader// Loser Drabble Series # 1

Warning! Groping, noncon touching, violence (Yn slaps the menace), bruised up pretty bad boy..um, I think that's it.

"Next stop Tokyo station!"

6:34am. Your usual mornings aren't this bad..You come to the realization you're life is like picking from a hat. Sometimes good and sometimes your crammed on the train similar to packaged sardines.

You gasped being shoved by the wave flooding the train. "Ouch." You massaged your sore nose. You hit something....or someone pretty hard. "That hurts."

Your eyes met a pair of black round eyes. He stood a foot over your tiny plushy status. "Fuck, someone's pup is out for a morning walk.. Where are you headin?....and all alone too."

You didn't like the vibe of him. He looks like violence is always the solution type. His brow had a mean gash making him squint like left eye slightly, purplish blue bruises can be spotted easily on his face and let's not forget the bandaids covering his bloodstained knuckles and other visible patches of skin.

Bad news! Alert! Red flag!

Yet you obediently answered. He chuckles. "Well, lucky for you, I'm free for the next-" You watched him check the time. " Ah, fuck dem, We can call me if they need me so bad-" He clicked his tongue before those eyes held you prisoner.

What is he on drugs?! Who is this guy?

"No!-I-I I don't even know you or anything about you besides you smell like sweat and blood." You attempted to widen the distance between you and the strange...and as much as you hate to admit it he's extremely handsome and by his cocky smirk.

He's well aware.

The stranger nonchalantly tilts his head examining your outfit instead of acknowledging you sassing him. "You'll catch a cold running around in this." You squeaked at his large grabby hand tugging around the base of your skirt. He paused at your cute sound, leaning in to whisper- "Fuck" He groaned, " Your too cute to pass up..."

"How about I make you mine?" He accepted his own question, quickly snatching your chubby hips into him. " You smell good-feel good to-" The bastard hands snuck behind you squeezing your bum like it's his.

You gasped, unconsciously gripping his biceps.

"Who did you think you are!? Get your hands off me!" The loud smack of a harsh slap caused silence to bleeding through your section of the train.

All eyes are on y'all.

Your eyes widen at your unintentional action, hurting him wasn't a part of the plan you just wanted to get his hands off you yet you manage to strike him.

" I didnt-I really didn't mean too- I'm sorry."

The smirk was gone in it's replacement was a really pissed off look but it was strangely temporary. He scoffed curling the corners of his lips into a rather unsettling smirk. "It's fine, sweetheart. I can take a hit."

He struggles to hold his laughter at your cute expression at the nickname. "But we should save the foreplay for later. Yes?" He aggressively snatches your chubby figure against his firm body.

You could only imagine what he's hiding under that baggy hoodie.

"What are you-"

You were interrupted by the train coming to a stop, seeing a window of opportunity you kneeled the creep in his groin before dashing into the crowd of people getting off.

You could hear his arrogant voice spitting insults from every direction.

God, I hope I never see that psycho again.

Loser Drabbles is a new series created to resemble the boyfriend's drabbles but in my way dumb way. This bad boy can be anyone you want but I thought of Kota Miura.

#ren hiramoto x chubby reader #ren hiramoto #ren hiramoto x reader #kota miura #kota miura x chubby reader #kota miura x reader #dark romance #yandere oc x reader

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drabbles-mc · 1 year

Text

Gone Soft

Takeshi Kovacs x F!Reader

For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo square: nursed back to health

Warnings: 18+, language, blood/injury, mild angst

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I've been tossing Tak around my head like a pinball for weeks now. Eventually I will get my thoughts and feelings about him together to do some longer fics and all sorts of stuff. But this was a nice little something to start writing him 😌

Altered Carbon Taglist: @garbinge (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

He came to with a groan and a cough, which was about what you had expected. Well, for a little while there you were wondering if he was going to come to at all. But Tak wasn’t ever the type of man who stayed dead. Might go down for a year, or a decade, or a century, but he always came back around. Lucky for you, this time he didn’t really go down, and he was only out for a week.

You looked over at him from the chair you’d set up beside his bed. Your bed, but for now it was his. You watched the way his face contorted—exhaustion, confusion, pain, all in rapid succession. He shut his eyes tight for a moment before opening them up all the way. After a few long, slow blinks he finally turned his head to look around the room. The confusion faded slightly when he saw you sitting beside him.

“You’re back,” you said as you uncrossed your legs, leaning forward.

“Didn’t realize I left,” he grunted. He braced his palms against the mattress, went to try and push himself upright just enough to lean back against the headboard. He didn’t get very far before the pain shot through him again and he dropped back down flat onto the mattress. “Fuck.”

You shook your head, a small smile on your face. “Yea I’d just stay flat if I were you.”

“Thanks for the warning,” he said, still staring up at the ceiling. He brought his hands up to his face, dragging his fingers down as he wiped the last of the sleep from his eyes. “How long?”

You laughed. “Not like you were on ice, Tak.” He turned his head so that he was looking at you. Propping your elbows on your knees, you told him, “One week.”

“And it still hurts this fuckin’ bad?”

You laughed. “Imagine if you hadn’t been out.”

He groaned, letting his eyes shut again. “I’m going back to sleep.”

You chuckled, shrugging. “Sure.”

He was already awake when you came in to check on him the next morning. He was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. You lingered in the doorway for a moment, wondering what he was thinking about. He knew you were there—it wasn’t like you’d been quiet. And even though he’d been put through the wringer you knew that his senses were still going to be sharper than most, sharp enough to have heard you the second you got up off the couch in the living room.

Flicking on the light, you stepped in. You couldn’t help but to chuckle at the groan he let out. “Like you didn’t know that was coming.” He turned his head so that he was looking at you. Not that you needed a reason to be popping in to check on him, but this time you actually did have one. Holding up the pack in your hand, you said, “Bandage change time.”

He let out a deep breath. “Right.”

Walking over, you peeled the blanket down off of him before sitting on the edge of the bed. For the first few seconds, your lingering stare could be written off as checking to make sure that everything was healing alright, the bruises, the cuts. But it didn’t take long for that excuse to run its course. Then you were just staring because you could.

When you finally made your eyes look into his, you found him already looking at your face. Despite the exhaustion and the pain, he still had that same stupid shit-eating smirk on his face. “Is it everything you remember?”

You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t help the smile that was creeping across your face. “Shut up. Just making sure you didn’t wake up with any new injuries.”

“Yea, I can see that.”

If he wasn’t already so beat up you would’ve given him a shove or clipped him on the side of the head. That seemed a little unfair given the circumstances. Rather than dignifying it with any kind of a response, you opted to start peeling away the bandages that were secured to his side and his chest.

“Couldn’t find me a sleeve that wasn’t beat to shit?” he asked, cringing slightly at the pull against his skin.

You shrugged. “Maybe. But I actually like this sleeve.” You paused, looking up at him until he locked eyes with you. “It’s pretty enough to make me forget how annoying your stack is.”

He chuckled at that, and you could feel the movement of his muscles beneath your fingertips. Somehow you managed not to fumble at the sensation of it, managed to keep a straight face. He could still sense the shift in you, though, because of fucking course he could. Whether or not you believed in Envoy Intuition was a moot point because Tak could read you like an open book and you had faith that he would be able to do that just as easily even if he wasn’t an Envoy.

“More work than it’s worth,” he said with a shake of his head.

Your eyes were back on his wounds again. They were already much better than they were when you’d managed to get him back to your place, but he was still a ways away from being healed. You didn’t have the money or the connections to get your hands on things that would heal him instantaneously. The selfish part of you in that moment didn’t mind it too much.

“I’m always in need of a good hobby,” you answered casually. You heard him chuckle at that and you looked back over at him. “But got it—next time I’ll let them throw you back on ice.”

He shrugged, and you knew that there was part of him that really would be that flippant about the prospect of going down again. Even if he wasn’t gonna come back for another couple hundred years. “No more hobby for you, then.”

You tried your best to reciprocate the energy. “I’m sure there are plenty of other broody men out there who need patching up.” Your expression shifted and you allowed yourself a moment of honesty even if Tak wouldn’t do the same in turn. “I would’ve found you a new sleeve if I thought I had to.”

His satisfied grin made you want to take it all back.

“Don’t,” you told him with a shake of your head.

“What?” he asked and even though you weren’t looking at him anymore you could still hear the smirk in his voice.

Rather than giving him the satisfaction of saying any of it out loud, you dumped disinfectant onto the gash across his stomach that hadn’t completely closed and started to scab over yet. He pushed the air out sharp between his teeth, hands balling into fists as he clutched your bedsheets between his fingers. He wasn’t looking at your face, eyes shut tight for a moment instead. When he finally pried his lids back open, he looked at you, able to just catch from the angle you were sitting that it was your turn to have a self-satisfied grin on your face.

“Feel better?” he asked, voice still strained as he worked his way through the sting.

“Who knew you’d gotten so soft, Tak?” you taunted with a smile.

“Wouldn’t be soft if you’d grabbed me a new sleeve.”

“You’d still be soft,” you joked. You paused, taking a moment to wipe away the excess medical alcohol on his stomach. “And if you wanted someone who could just grab you a new sleeve anytime you got yourself into a goddamn shoot-out,” you locked eyes with him, “should’ve been nicer to your Meth buddies.”

“They weren’t my buddies,” he said the word like it left a physical bad taste on his tongue.

“Did you tell them that?”

“I think the shooting might’ve said it for me.”

“You assume too much of them.” You said it with a chuckle, almost like it was a joke, but you didn’t have to be looking at him to know that he heard the truth in what you were saying.

It grew quiet between you again. You were more at ease than you thought you were going to be. Up until now, swapping out his bandages had been a solitary activity since he was still unconscious. You were expecting him to try and brush you off, try and take care of it himself. It crossed your mind, you found yourself hoping, that maybe this was progress. He was still tense beneath your touch, still sidestepping almost every chance at a real conversation with a joke or a snide remark. But he was letting you help. He was sitting still and he was letting you help. That was something.

“How often you been doing that?” he asked when you were done.

“First two days it was twice a day. Once the bleeding slowed it was just once a day.”

“Why?”

“So you didn’t get blood all over my sheets.”

He huffed out a short, quiet chuckle. “No. I mean, why put in all the effort?”

“What is your problem with this sleeve?” you asked, eyebrows raised in confusion.

“Not about the sleeve.”

You paused, lips curling down into a small frown as you turned over his previous question in your mind. “Wish I could say I just didn’t want the guilty conscience.” You shook your head. “But unfortunately, I think that I care about you now.”

It got a brief, weak smile out of him. “Very unfortunate.”

“For both of us, apparently, since it means I’m gonna make sure you stay alive.”

He let his head drop and rest against the pillow. “Looks like I’m not the only one who got soft.”

#altered carbon #altered carbon fanfiction #takeshi kovacs #takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs x you #x reader #x reader fic #navy and roos sleepover #navy and roo's sleepover #slumber party bingo #slumber party #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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diamondheartyux · 10 days

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Purify Me

Pt. 3 of The Cumanent: Sinful Sacraments

A little holy water cleanses everything,...except this

Genre: Smut 18+ Only

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings: religious themes, blasphemy, aggression (hella), foreign object play, pet names, brief mention of pregnancy, anal, dominant\submissive dynamic, no HEA, possibly toeing the line of dubcon\noncon

Note: These are stand alone and can be read in any order :)

Read Part One Here!

Read Part Two Here!

Check out the playlist on Spotify here!

I watch with full interest as the priest before me dives deeply into his Sunday morning sermon. Normally service was tame but today he was passionate, driven, dare I say, consumed by his words. His hands connect with the pulpit as he speaks, his voice rising in volume gradually until he is all but screaming the word he was so desperate to teach. His enthusiasm was as attractive as he was. He was of average height, clad in the heavy, standard Catholic robes. His deep chestnut brown hair falls perfectly around his face as it stops just above the top of his ears, curling under so the ends graze his face with every movement of his head. His onyx colored eyes were ablaze as he leaned over the pulpit to convey his point. He was driven and it was driving the type of thoughts I shouldn't be thinking in the middle of church into my mind.

My eyes never left him and occasionally, he would lock his with mine. The small action sent my stomach fluttering each time. I bit my bottom lip as I imagined what it would be like to be the sole target of that gaze. I shook my head slightly, hoping to clear the blasphemous thoughts like an etch-a-sketch to no avail. With every passing second, the sight of him fueled my reprehensible daydreams even further. I squeeze my legs tightly in an attempt to alleviate the ever growing ache building between my thighs.

Service ended in what felt like mere seconds, my mind dancing merrily in fantasy. I stood, smoothing my dress before slinging my purse strap over my shoulder. I took one long last glance at him, watching him smile and converse with his patrons. I turned to make my way down the aisle, making it halfway between the rows of pews when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned slowly, not expecting to find the priest standing there, hands tucked behind his back while smiling brightly at me.

“Excuse me, miss. Could I possibly talk with you for a moment?” He asks, eyes gleaming. I lift a hand to my chest, slightly confused. “Oh, me?” I ask in response. He nods in confirmation before I agree. He gestures for me to follow him as he makes his way to the front of the old Catholic church before exiting through a side door. I follow as we glide through an ornate hallway before stopping before an old, wooden door. He pushes against it and it opens with a groan before he gestures for me to enter.

I take small, timid steps inside as my confusion for my reasoning for being here is painted plainly across my face. He turns, pushing against the door once more and it latches in place with a thick thud. I clutch my purse against me out of the anxiety of it all, my mind tumbling possibilities as to why he invited me into his office. I watch him carefully, studying his angelic features, noticing as his eyes take me in intensely. They fall slowly from my lips down, hovering over my breasts before sliding down to my thighs. They begin their ascent and I see a flash of hunger behind them before he blinks, realizing my eyes were on him.

“No need to be alarmed.” He holds his hands up in front of him slightly to show he was not a threat then continues. “ I just noticed you in the front today. I've never seen you here before. I'm sure I would remember you if you attended previously.” He grins slyly, a hint of something snaking over his words. My body shudders slightly, his implications not lost on me. He knew he was attractive. He knew his position put him in a place to be considered forbidden, He knew how easily swayed most people were by a pretty face and the right words. It was evident in the way he was carrying himself. He holds himself upright with perfect posture but his body language was lax and non threatening. His voice was calm and reassuring, his hands hanging gently at his side yet he was so inviting as he reached out to touch my upper arm softly.

His fingers dance across my skin before he steps in closer. My heart flutters in my chest at the action that gradually puts him in a closer proximity. My eyes survey his face, spending too long on his plush, rouge lips. He curls them upward into a smile before leaning forward, stopping close enough that his breath billows softly on my cheek. “Like what you see?” He whispers in my ear. “I saw the way you were focused on me today. It was distracting, honestly. Those pretty little eyes on me yet so far away at the same time. I could barely think about what I was preaching because I couldn’t stop creating possibilities of what you were so obviously focused on. Just imagine how much better my sermon could have been without you practically eye fucking me from the front row?” He smirks and my stomach lurches, flipping wildly in my abdomen. His hand comes up and he wraps his slender fingers around my arm, squeezing softly.

He leans in more, now close enough his lips almost brush my ear. “Luckily, I was still able to resist the temptation. Very grateful for these thick robes as they are able to hide the effects of your undeniably sinful thoughts. But, precious, I have so much pent up energy from it all. The excitement of everything, you know? Today’s message…and then, of course, you.” He brings his face to look at me, stopping a breath away from my lips, his gaze holding them. “ Would you be my rest for I am so, so weary. I just need somewhere to lie my head.” His eyes flit to mine, burning with desire and the sight sends little prickles of electricity through me.” So, tell me. Will you be my friend?”

My breath hitches in my chest at his words, my heart pounding violently in my rib cage like a rabid animal. I don't have time to respond before he pulls me flush against him and presses those luscious lips against mine. My body relaxes at the contact despite my brain screaming at me for it all. My hands come between us to fist his robes as he brings his hands to rest on my waist, squeezing forcefully before pulling my body rough against his own. His mouth is eager, nipping at my lips before his tongue comes to flick over them. He catches my bottom lip between his teeth causing me to gasp. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, allowing it to dance with mine as he explores my oral cavity. I tug at his robes to press myself against him more and he brings both hands to cup my cheeks momentarily before they fall to cradle my neck.

His lips crash faster into mine and his breathing turns rapid. The sound of his panting as well as feeling his chest heave rapidly under my clenched fist sends another sudder through me and it reignites the warmth between my thighs. I knew I should stop but I simply could not. His lips felt better than I ever could have imagined and I was curious to know how his body felt now. I knew this was wrong on many levels but he was just so goddamn intoxicating. My lips clashed against his in effort to devour every bit of his taste. My mind was hazy, already clouded with lust, so when he pulled away from me, my mouth reached out to reconnect immediately. Only instead of finding his lips again, I was shoved roughly downward. The force causes my legs to buckle at the knees and I crash into a chair behind me, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

“Fa-father Kim.” I mumble between breaths, startled by his actions. “W-wha-..” was all I could get out before he reached down to grab my neck, squeezing his fingers around it tightly. “Shut up.” He bellowed. “Do not speak unless you're spoken to.” He squeezes my neck once more before roughly shoving away, my head snapping back at the force. “The only thing I want to hear from these luscious lips is those pretty little whimpers you're going to be making soon enough.” A small moan echoes in my throat and my heart threatens to beat right out of my chest. He circles the chair slowly, studying me like a predator studying their next meal. A hunger flashes across his dark eyes and he runs a hand across my chest before circling back around to stand behind me. He slides his hand at a snail’s pace to my arm, resting it there.

“Hands” he commands. I sit for a moment, not really sure of what he’s demanding of me. When I don’t obey quickly enough, he grabs a fist full of my hair and yanks my head back, forcing me to look up at him. “I said, hands,” he spits through gritted teeth. I lift my arms out in front of me, staring up at him. “No,” he growls, “Behind you. Now.” I cautiously slide my arm around behind me as he shoves my head forward forcefully. He reaches down to grab the hand and I twist my other hand behind me as well, feeling as he gathers them into one of his own before turning to grab something behind him. He makes no sound and soon I feel something silky soft wrapping around my wrists before my arms jerk slightly. I can hear the soft sound of fabric rubbing against itself before there's a gentle tug. He stands back to admire his creation.

He sighs in satisfaction, a puff of air escaping through his nose before he comes to stand in front of me. His eyes roam my body before landing between my legs. Another flick of hunger dances across them momentarily. “Spread your legs” he demands, looking up to meet my eyes. Hesitantly, I spread them slowly causing the hem of my dress to rise over my knees. He groans under his breath before leaning forward, cupping my cheek with his soft hand. He begins to run it down to my chin, my neck, and over my chest before stopping to cup the small bump protruding at the bottom of my belly. A shiver works through me as I watch him caress my stomach softly, chewing on the bottom of his lip. I wasn't obviously pregnant. I was still small enough to hide behind loose clothing but present enough to protrude almost cutely. My dress wasn't form fitting but it accented my natural curves, the fabric draping in just the right way around my breasts, hips, and stomach. The only giveaway to my condition was the subconscious need to cradle my belly constantly. It was no surprise he knew about it.

“Look at you.“ His voice is low in volume but his words are laced with a venomous tone. “Sitting in my church, in these revealing clothes…” His hands continue downwards, stopping to stroke the front of my lace panties. “... taunting me with the seed of another man growing in your womb.” He lifts his eyes to mine. The intensity burning in his jet black gaze sends chills through me causing my stomach to jump and a tingle to burn between my thighs.

He drops his hands, turning to walk away from me. I watch as far as I can as he makes his way back towards an armoire nestled in the far end of the room. The doors creak as it opens. I hear the sound of items rustling as he rummages through its contents. Moments later, the doors shut with a heavy click and I hear rosary beads clacking gently before I hear his footsteps again. He’s behind me again quickly. I can hear items as they’re set down before something cold is wrapped around my neck and pulled taut, cutting off my airway. My arms strain against the binding on my wrists, my hands desperate to claw at whatever is on my throat. My head is pulled back and I stare wide eyed at the priest hovering above me.

A maniacal grin graces his face and his eyes flicker with animalistic need. Fear courses through me as I instinctively struggle, the lack of air causing my head to feel light and vision to spot. He stares down at me, tugging tighter, before licking his lips. His tongue darts across his dark pink bottom lip before he brings his teeth into them. I squirm in the chair, terrified, my eyes never leaving his, tears beginning to well at my water line. “It's funny, don't you think?” he says, tugging at the rosary once more. "You don't fear the lord, even inside his house knowing the weight of your transgressions, yet you fear for the life he gave you?"

The edges of my vision are solid black, what's left is a hazy blur, clouded further by the tears gathered there. I feel one more rough tug at the rosary before it's pulled away. I gasp as air rushes into my lungs so fast it causes me to choke. I cough violently, the tears that were being held at bay now cascading down my face. I tug at the binding that keeps my hands behind me. He wraps the rosary tightly around my mouth. It cuts into the corners of my lips before he ties it behind my head somehow. He disappears once more, leaving me to my recovery, the armoire door creaking and clicking in the distance,only to reappear with something wrapped in purple velvet in his hands.

I watch as he slowly pulls the corners of the fabric back, opening his item as if it were a present. He lifts it slowly, the fabric tossed to the side, to reveal a rather large crucifix. He turns towards me and grins that maniacal grin again before he stalks back over, standing in front of me again. His hand roams over me once more before stopping between my legs. With another grin, he sticks his fingers into the delicate lacing of my panties and pulls, ripping a wide hole in the front of them.

His fingers immediately find me dripping and he runs his slim digits up and down between my folds before he brings the crucifix to rest against my entrance. My body trembles in a mix of adrenaline from the previous lack of oxygen as well from the violent gleam that was burning in his eyes. With no warning, he thrusts the longer end of the crucifix inside me, causing me to cry out. It was wider than anything I'd ever taken before. the squared edges pressed against me as it stretched me wide and the feeling paired with the cool sensation of the metal figurine nailed to it. It was overwhelming, bordering on painful, and fresh tears welled in my eyes.

He began to ram the cross in and out of me, his pace ruthless. The overwhelming feeling soon morphed into something more pleasurable and his thumb came up to rub rough circles on my clit. My hips rolled upward to grind against the crucifix, small whimpers billowing over the rosary nestled between my parted lips. He watches me as he pumps it harder and faster, a tightening in my stomach already on the verge of snapping. I buck against the wooden cross, matching his pace before I feel the tension that was brewing in me snap. My orgasm hits me harder than I expect, surprising me as my body jerks hard. My legs squeeze his hand, clamping tightly around the foreign object as my head lolls back. My eyes flutter before closing and I launch a soft cry into the room as my body is racked by wave after wave of release that slams into me before it subsides.

I pant rapidly as new tears paint my cheeks. I bring my head upright and open my eyes to find him watching me intensely. The hand that had been assaulting my clit was now under his robes, faint movements rippling through the fabric. A tingle forms in my stomach and shoots down between my legs at the sight of him touching himself despite the orgasm that just ravaged my body.

I watch as he stands leaving the crucifix in me to bunch his robes up revealing himself pulled through the zipper of his dress pants. He strokes himself slowly before standing in front of me again, placing a leg on each side of the chair. I was at the perfect height for my face to line up with his groin in this position. He reaches around to remove the rosary from my face before putting his tip against my lips, rubbing it against them softly. A hand meets my cheek, patting twice. “Open” he demands. I part my lips slightly and he pushes himself between them forcefully. I groan around him before I begin to suck softly. His hand twists into my hair before he thrusts aggressively into my mouth entirely. His cock hits the back of my throat causing me to gag and I try to pull back but he holds my head in place.

What felt like an eternity later, he pulls out of my mouth before he plunges right back in. This time he pumps in and out violently, his cock jamming the back of my throat each time. He stops, holding my head against him, my nose flush against his pelvic area. He rocks against me, his cock jabbing into my throat as I gag sharply around him. Tears flow down my face as he continues to fuck my mouth, each stroke harder than the last. My stomach turns and my pussy tingles at the entire thing, despite the trails of water that leaked down my cheeks. I squeeze my thighs together and thrust softly against the crucifix still buried inside me. His tempo quickens, his thrusts erratic yet still just as ruthless. My throat throbs from the repeated assault and burns from the force of every gag he's caused.

With one final thrust, he forces my head onto him again, his hands using all his strength to hold me in place. He pulls at the roots of my hair as I gag on him before he pulls out of me as quickly as he slammed into my mouth. I sputter a cough, grateful for the air as I watch through cloudy, teary eyes as he moves from me to his desk to the left of me. He grabs a few bottles of holy water, twisting the top off one single handedly while stroking himself with the other. He returns to stand in front of me, tossing the end of his robes over his shoulder before he releases himself from his hand. “Look at me” he commands.

Disappointment flows through me, deep down having wanted to watch as he got himself off but I turn my eyes to his obediently. I watch as he strokes himself faster, fast enough to bring himself to his own conclusion. He lifts the open bottle of water, cradling it over his tip. A groan rumbles in his throat as he jerks lightly. His eyes never leave mine as his cock twitches before shooting his sticky load into the holy water, save a few drops that end on his fingers. He flicks his robes down, covering himself and a whimper almost leaves my lips.

He swivels the bottle around before approaching me, sliding his sticky, cum covered fingers into my mouth. I suck on them greedily, savoring his taste before he removes them quickly. This time I allow myself to whimper out loud, eliciting a smirk from him. He reaches up and grabs my chin, squeezing hard. “Open up, precious. I have something to help purify you.” I shiver at his words, parting my lips obediently. He brings the cum filled holy water to my lips, tilting it to where all of it rushes into my mouth at once. I choke, sputtering slightly as I begin to gulp the unholy cocktail as fast as I can.

Once empty, he drops the bottle and it clatters loudly on the floor. He walks behind me, untangling the tie holding my hands. It falls gently as he finishes releasing my wrists. I bring my arms around to my front, rotating them to combat the ache in them. Father Kim brings his hands to my shoulders, lowering his mouth to my ear before he whispers in it. “I hope you didn't think we were done yet, precious.” His tongue flicks against my earlobe, sending a shiver through me, before he shoves me hard, propelling me forward. I reach out, catching myself with my hands as I meet the floor.

He kicks the chair to the side with his foot before he sinks to his knees behind me, pulling me up onto my knees. His hands caress my ass before his fingers dig roughly into the supple flesh. Aggression leaches from his touch paired with his deep, panting breaths. My stomach jolts again as he runs his hands along my backside once more before his hand lifts only to come back down against my skin harshly. I jump at the action, a yelp coming from me. His hand caresses the spot before lifting to come down on it again, this time a little harder.

This coaxes a small moan from me, the pain once again morphing into pleasure and I found myself wanting more of it. His hands grasp my ass again before skillfully ripping my underwear down to expose me completely. He grips my ass again, squeezing roughly as he spreads my cheeks apart. Another strike lands against my ass before he stands, disappearing momentarily. He returns, kneeling behind me once again.

He runs his hands over my ass to the small of my back then up to my shoulder before running his hands into my hair. In one violent motion, he shoves me down, my face meeting the floor. He shoves me against the floor, holding me there the same way he held my face against his cock earlier. A small thrill races through my body as I feel him pressing against my bare lower body, my ass high in the air. In between my thighs was slick with my own moisture and it dripped down the inside of them slowly. He keeps the force on my head and I hear the sound of a top opening.

Moments later, something cold runs against my ass, dripping between my cheeks. My eyes widen in realization as I feel his head rub against my hole after. He presses further, working to gain entrance. Another trickle of cold hits me before he pushes again, pressing his head in completely before resting momentarily. I gasp loudly, the intrusion of him in my ass paired with his girth was foreign. The few seconds he gave me to adjust were the only ones I was allowed. In one swift movement, he forced the rest of him inside me, burying himself to the hilt. It was uncomfortable and painful and more tears welled in my eyes as he reared back to plunge into me again. I yelped loudly, a sob nearly escaping my lips. My cry of pain only seemed to excite him more. His fingers clasp my hair tighter as he adds more force against my head. The floor pressed into my face painfully while his other hand dug equally as painful into the soft flesh of my ass. I just knew I would have bruises the following morning.

The idea of him marking me caused my stomach to flutter again despite everything. Tears still ran from my face as he fucked my ass rough, sliding out of me to slam back into me as hard as he could. My body rocked with every thrust and at some point, the pain began to grow softer and pleasure bloomed in its wake.. My pussy ached to be touched as he buried his cock into my asshole over and over. My yelps turned to uncontrollable moans. A tension built in my stomach with every guttural groan that flowed off his lips. His hand released my hair, moving to grip the opposite side of my bottom, digging his fingers into my skin there as well. My pleasure crested and I found myself eager to match his pace. I rocked against him as he slammed into me, each thrust coaxing the storm brewing inside.

“Look at yourself.” He commands before leaning forward to grasp my hair in his hands, whipping my head up to stare at myself in a mirror propped against the wall mere feet from us. “Look at your face, the blissed out look in your eyes. The tears fall as freely from your eyes as the moans flow from your lips.” I stare at myself in the mirror, taking in my reflection.I barely recognized myself. My eyes were hazy, glazed with lust. My mascara was streaked in black rivulets down both of my cheeks all the way to my chin. A few tears streak the dried flakes on my face. My lipstick had smeared across my lips, half of it missing. I was truly a mess but I did not care. I craved the pleasure he was giving no matter how forbidden it was supposed to be. He released my hair with a shove, pushing my head forward before he thrust into me again.

I cried out, bringing my head up to lock eyes with his reflection in the mirror. My insides trembled at the sight. His robes were tossed aside and his pants had been pushed down to reveal more skin than I'd ever seen on him. His eyes were glazed over as well, a flicker of mania behind them. The corners of his lips curled up in an equal maniacal grin. The primal rage brewing inside him evident in his gaze as well as the way he fucked me like he absolutely hated me. The sight alone almost sent me over the edge.

His eyes found mine in the reflection, holding my gaze as he ran a hand up to caress my stomach softly before snaking a hand around in between my legs. His fingers circled my clit softly, a stark contrast to the way he slammed in and out of me. The feather light touch caused my eyes to roll back as I sighed. I bit my lip to suppress a loud moan and was met with a hand across my ass.

“Let it out. I told you the only thing I want to hear from you is the sounds I cause you to make.” Another command I immediately obeyed. A loud moan flows across my lips, the storm ready to roll in. He rams into me faster, sending steady beats of pleasure through me. Sounds fall from my lips uncontrollably as I reach my second orgasm. One final rough thrust sends the storm inside on a rampage. It claps hard and I all but scream as it rips through me. My body begins to seize, shaking almost violently as he never loses his rhythm.

A deep growl reverberates in his throat before he pulls out of my ass, his hands coming to squeeze my cheeks roughly once again. He dips his head down, pressing it between my legs. His tongue flicks forward, sliding between my folds on its way to my clit. I moan once more as he shoves his face into my further. He pulls me back as his tongue darts lazily over my sensitive bud. I arch back, stretching my top half to lie flat against the floor. He continues his teasing, pulling back to slide two fingers deep inside of me. He pumps them slowly at first, the softness in his motions foreign to me and I whimper, aching for more than what he was giving. I hear a deep chuckle from behind me before he removes his fingers and buries his face into me from behind. He laps greedily at me and I rock myself against his face. My body hums excitedly as another murmur of pleasure begins to rise inside me.

All too soon, he pulls back from me and I voice my protest to the action with a loud whine. A hand comes down sternly against my ass and I jolt at the unexpected contact. His hand rubs my ass briskly before it lifts again. He brings his hand back against me in three consecutive slaps, his strike growing in intensity each time his hand connects to my tender flesh. I made a noise that was as much a moan as a cry out, the sting left on my skin burning pleasantly.

I feel him pressing his cock against my ass once more before he shoves himself deep back inside me again. My body trembles beneath him as he fucks me relentlessly. Grunts and moans pour from him freely now, the carnal need within him possessing his actions. He rams into me over and over, chasing his own ecstasy and I expel my own sounds into the room to mix with the Lord is with thee.his as freely as he does. The room is a symphony of the sounds of our bodies clashing, the music of it dancing across the walls around us.

Without breaking stride, he leans forward to grab my hair, wrenching my head up forcefully. My eyes focus back on the mirror, watching him as he drives into me mercilessly. He releases my hair, the look in his eyes commanding me to keep mine on him. “It’s time for ceremony, precious” He grunts between each roll of his hips. “Allow me to pray for you. Eyes on me.” he commands.

I don’t lower my gaze from his reflection as he lifts his right hand and brings it up to his forehead before dropping to his heart then crossing it from right to left. His eyes move to capture mine in the mirror and his rhythm never slows as he begins to speak. “Hail Mary full of Grace…” he pulls back and crashes into me harder, grunting through his teeth. “the Lord is with thee.” Another violent thrust rocks me forward. “Blessed are thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus…” I moan loudly, my body beginning to shake under the assault. “Holy Mary Mother of God,..” My eyes flutter, fighting to close. My stomach tightens, the ticking time bomb inside threatening to explode once again. His hand rises again, coming down with as much force as he could muster without breaking his rhythmic assault on my ass. I moan wildly as I begin to teeter off the edge. “...pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.” He growls, a guttural sound that sets the fuse inside me on blaze, burning it down almost immediately. “Amen!” he barely gets out as he pounds into me one final time, growling primitively. His fingers dig painfully into my hips as he releases into me.

My body convulses violently, the explosion of pleasure sending me into another realm. I scream out, barely able to hold myself up as the fallout arrives in segments, coursing through me with almost as much force as he fucked me with. My eyes roll back and flutter before closing, sparks dancing in my vision. My arms buckle and I let my upper body fall against the floor, waiting for the calm after the storm. He pulls out of me and I hear his clothing rustle as he adjusts himself. I lie a crumpled mess on the floor still trying to catch my breath when I hear his footsteps recede before returning.

He drops my purse and my torn up panties next to me. He squats down, fisting my hair once more and yanks my head up to look at him. He flashes a fake smile at me. “I’m sure you remember the way we came in, right precious?” He shoves my head away, releasing my hair before standing again. I push myself upright, my legs curled up to my side, an embarrassment flooding my body coaxing a pink tint to color my cheeks. He turns and begins walking to the door before stopping, swiveling back around to me. “Ah, yes. One more thing. If I ever catch you in my church again, there’ll be hell to pay. A lot like today but much, much worse.” He smirks once more, something sinister flashing in his eyes, before he continues to make his way back to the door. He pulls it open and slips out, leaving me on the floor as the door closes behind him.

#kpop fanfic #kpop smut #smut #hongjoong #hongjoong smut #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong smut #smut series #one shot #female reader

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poisonheadcrabsalesman · 8 months

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Between You and Me

A prompt from @bloodgulchblog for the phrase "Between you and me, Big guy's a little shy." Very much inspired by this art from reddit user InvalidMedia - check it out.

If he closed his eyes, he could inhale the morning air and listen to the trill of insects and imagine he's home. He remembers the air of Charybdis IX away from Scyllion and other loud mining towns, full of life. Down from the wharf and up the river where the water made the air damp and the vegetation softened the sound of progress. Zeta Halo's air clings to him now. A second skin, or really a third, since he feels covered in dirt, sweat, and who knows what else.

There's no sound of a river. Only the slow flowing water swirling in the retention pond before him and a handful of other marines. Too perfect to be natural. Too clear to pass up. It was a bathing day. Some stood guard while those who drew the first straws bathed in the cool morning mist. He'd have preferred to have gone later or maybe in the midday sun when it wasn't so cold. But beggars can't be choosers, a little bracing water is good for the body.

And it would help with any stray thoughts about Chief as one of their lookouts. There wasn't anything going on between them except Fernando's twisted hope that he was worth caring about Chief and that Chief would learn to care about himself. It didn't matter now. It wasn't the time.

He wasn't the only Spartan on duty, but he drew the most eyes. Fernando almost wanted to laugh. He'd never bathed under armed guard before.

He stripped quickly a few feet from the shore and made his way into the water with little complaint. He couldn't help the hiss at the cold but he dunked himself under the surface quickly and came up with his teeth chattering. A quick bath then.

Scrubbing himself with a rag from his supplies and some sand from the shore made him reminisce about camping. They had to make do. He tried not to wrinkle his nose in disgust as the water turned filthy around him. Others were having the same issue, if the loud calls and splashing were anything to go by. He scratched at his beard and waded a little further in to dunk himself in a cleaner spot.

He wasn't expecting slippery metal beneath the silt and a sudden drop. He sank beneath the surface with a yelp and flailed back up clumsily. Just in time to notice the attention he attracted.

Chief was already past the shoreline and moving towards him when Fernando resurfaced and cleared his airways.

The cool water did nothing to stop the color in his cheeks as Chief nodded at him and returned to his post.

Some other crew swam up to check on him as well and he tried waving them off, but to no avail.

"Chief's got his eye on you. Thought he was going dive in after you went down." One marine said, grinning goodnaturedly.

"I'd hope he'd take the armor off first." Another marine shot back.

"You're his pilot, right?"

"His pilot?"

"Yeah! One he calls in and brings us vehicles. You're that guy."

"Uh, yeah. That's me!" He chuckles nervously. He's incredibly aware of how he must look like a drowned rat.

"You must know him pretty well."

"I-I mean. He saved me? But he does that for everyone."

"Come on guys, leave the pilot alone. We got a few minutes left before we're out and some of you look as bad as you did before getting in."

That gets the small crowd to disperse and Fernando breathes a sigh of relief. Until he realizes there's one last hanger-on. It's some young ensign type, barely had any weapons training before it all went to hell.

"What's he like?" He nods to Chief and Fernando's heart speeds up. "He hovers around you. It's kind of funny watching marines follow him when he's always following you."

Fernando swallows. "Between you and me? Big guy's a little shy."

The ensign nods solemnly like he's being trusted with top secret info. And maybe in a way he is.

He swims off to trail after his buddies and leaves Fernando still thinking about his words. Chief stayed. He always comes back, or checks in. Even when Fernando doesn't think he's worth it.

#my writing #Halo fanfic #Echo 216 #John 117 #chiefpilot #Halo Infinite

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inhuman-obey-me · 8 months

Note

levi + 🚪 no mc please!

"I feel a sickness for a home I’ve never been." - Leviathan

"YES, I got the last piece of the set!" Leviathan shouts excitedly to himself, happily setting the new piece to his gear before inputting a dance command.

The little avatar on his screen begins to bop around, moving its arms cheerfully to no particular music as if to show off the new jacket it's wearing. The blurry pixels that make up the character's face look like they're smiling, just like the Avatar of Envy is, beaming from his seat as he reaches up to stretch for the first time in hours.

Messages from his guildmates start rolling in, too, filling the chat with, "YOOO CONGRATS" and "omg sooo jealous" and "looks AMAZING, man!!"

Ah, satisfaction.

And then, killing his elation just as quickly -- "alright, I think that's it for me tonight."

"Wait, some of you still need another drop from this dungeon though, right? Let's not stop yet," Levi types frantically. For the first time all night, he notices his eyes stinging from the strain of playing for so many hours straight, but he's desperate not to log off. If anything, his chest is starting to constrict at the thought, full of panic at the idea of ending already.

The others, however, are done. They collectively decide this is a good place to stop for the night, and one by one, he watches his teammates' avatars disappear from the screen, leaving his character alone in the field, still dancing away.

And, just like that, the night's distraction is over. Groaning with frustration, he scrolls idly through his quest list, checking for something, anything to still do. A dungeon, a raid, maybe some limited-time seasonal event? Of course, he's already completed all the most fun quests though, and the only things still available for him to handle alone are mindless, repetitive tasks. Boring.

He closes out the game too, dropping his head into his hands in defeat. He should get some sleep anyway, admittedly. Lucifer will be mad if he oversleeps come morning, after all.

It's just, the moment he turns around, he'll have to see that same damn room again -- his new one, with its jellyfish lamps and porcelain white tub for a bed. He'd been excited about it at first, since he'd gotten to decorate it with all his otaku paraphernalia, and the fish tank walls really did cast a lovely blue glow over everything. His figurines look great in their displays, and his entire manga collection is neatly organized on the shelves, just how he likes it.

It's a good room. It's got all of his favorite things. It's very distinctly his -- no more of the dusty old guest rooms of the Demon Lord's Castle, each one indistinguishable from all the others.

He should like it.

But that doesn't change what the room is: new. This is his new room, in a new house, in this new realm, with a new body, having to make a new home, and it's all because he's not welcome in his old one anymore. The Celestial Realm cast them out, and he'll never see his old room in the Celestial Palace again. He'll never get to stay in that nice, comfortable, familiar place anymore, and the thought makes him deeply envious of his past self who got to enjoy his time there so obliviously, never even realizing that those days would come to an end!

Then again, if he's honest with himself -- wasn't he the same way back then, too?

It's just a sickness for a home that's never been. Truthfully, he didn't feel any more comfortable in his skin as an angel than he does as a demon. Having his brothers with him is what makes a place home more than anything else, but even they don't really understand him.

No one does.

But there's always escaping into his games, his anime, his manga. In those, he can imagine himself as the hero. He doesn't have to think about what a sad, pathetic demon he is now. He doesn't have to think about being a demon at all. He can be whatever he wants to be, wherever he wants to be.

And where he wants to be right now, is not here. Anything would be better than thinking about all this again. Late night be damned, he's not ready to face this yet.

Screw it, he's not going to sleep. He boots up another game.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #omnb #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #om! levi #om! leviathan #leviathan angst #obey me angst #obey me fic #obey me drabble #writings #drabble #4000 follower celebration #mod chaos in the devildom

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yeonboy · 9 months

Text

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 ♡ choi beomgyu.

He aches to be the one you would have snuck off with; to be the one you would want to share secret kisses with. He aches. And in that moment, he realizes his feelings have gone too far. They have caused him to stop being a true well-wisher to you; he is being selfish. He needs to take a step back. Or, Choi Beomgyu is head over heels in love with his best friend – and she simply doesn’t feel the same.

❧ choi beomgyu x f. reader | 16+ | college!au ♡ best friends!au ♡ unrequited love!au ♡ angst ♡ drama.

❧ 4.7 k words

❧ warnings! profanity, an extreeeeeme amount of pining, one-sided feelings, unrequited love, jealousy, heartbreak, some self-deprication, one (1) mention of drinking and partying, one (1) mention of making out, maybe an innuendo or two! mostly just buckets full of mopey, pining gyu </3 and a hopeful (?) ending (:

❧ note! i wrote this because i was listening to m5’s whiskey and crying and thinking of gyu so take that how u will </3 please note that the lyrics are there just to set the tone, not to be taken too literally. i just love this song, man. please don’t hate me for the ending, i changed it thrice and then settled on this. it just felt perfect to me this way :”) also! pls excuse the lack of dividers, tumblr won't let me add them without hiding the post from the tags for some reason :/

❧ masterlist | inbox ⁘

i never knew that love was blind; till i was hers and she was never mine…

“So, I have a question for you.”

Beomgyu blinks at your words, letting the steel straw escape his lips as you pull his strawberry milkshake away from him.

In fascination, he watches the way your lips wrap around the shiny tube in the exact place where his own had been. You slurp once and pull away, leaving a tint of pink – pinker than the drink, pinker than Beomgyu’s cheeks, pinker than the love-goggles that are permanently on his eyes when he’s with you – on the edge of the straw.

“Gyu?”

He wants to wipe that pink away with his lips, so bad. But your hand comes in with a tissue to clean that precious speck of your lipstick away, before he can even blink a second time.

Now he blinks again and looks up at you. God, you’re so gorgeous with your brows all furrowed and lips all pouty. He is so thoroughly ruined by you. Why does he continue to subject himself to this torture instead of keeping his distance like a sane person?

He doesn’t fucking know.

“Y–yeah? What question?”

“A hypothetical one. Very important, nonetheless.” You stare into space with your eyes squinted, perfect cheekbones reflecting the light from the evening traffic beyond the glass walls of the cafe you’re seated in. “If long time BFFs happen to develop feelings for each other, should they confess?”

Beomgyu chokes on air, freezing like a solid block of ice.

What did you just ask?

“You know… Just imagine! Two people who have been the best of friends for ages. And then one of them realizes they’re in love with the other.” Your rounded eyes turn to him with a hint of worry in them. “Should they confess and live their dream? Or should they take this secret to their grave and protect their friendship?”

Beomgyu is a mess.

Why the actual hell are you asking him that? Him – the one guy in your entire life that doesn’t have to imagine this specific situation because he’s been living it for years, now?

Now, he’s not panicking because he thinks you might have figured him out and are trying to pave a path to confession. No, he's self-aware enough to not be deluded. And his panic kinda stems from this very fact.

He's self-aware enough to know that while he's looking at you and daydreaming of a picket fence and good-morning kisses, your mind is stuck on someone else. Choi Soobin. Older than him, taller than him, cuter than him. Guy checks all boxes of the type of guys you like so well, Beomgyu wonders if Soobin is the reason why you created those boxes in the first place.

So he's scared out of his mind that you're paving a road to confess to Soobin.

“Wow, aren’t you super helpful this evening?”

Your whine of frustration pulls him out of his spiral. He clears his throat and shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, man. That’s a very subjective question.”

“Subjective?” You tilt your head in thought and Beomgyu dreads the next words you would say before you have even formed them: “Okay, let me answer it subjectively first then! Like, imagine if you had feelings for me. I wouldn't want you to confess them to me, like, ever.”

Ouch. Not that he plans to ever confess them to you, but still pretty ouch.

Slightly hurt, he drags his milkshake back to himself and slurps away the rest of it before smacking his lips and shaking his head. “Well then subjectively, it’s the complete opposite for me.”

You look at him with an extremely confused frown. “But what if I lose the friendship because you don't feel the same?”

This hypothesis is making him lose his damn mind.

“I… well, what if we lose the chance to be something much more amazing just because you were scared?”

Moment of introspection: he hopes to all the powers in the universe that he isn’t losing the chance to be something much more amazing with you just because he’s scared. You don’t like him like that, you won’t ever like him like that.

He’s being smart and self-preservative. Not scared.

You're lost in thoughts for a moment, and then you suddenly get up with a jump. Grinning at him, you lean down to peck his cheek and rush out of the cafe before he can even fully absorb the warm brush of your lips against his skin. “You're the best, Gyu, thank you so much!”

In a daze, he brings his fingertips to brush against the apple of his cheek.

Why did you run away like that? Why did you sound so excited? Fuck, are you going to confess right now?

He pulls his fingertips away.

They are pink.

yeah i was reckless, but i let it burn; i let it burn, yeah…

“And if they show up hand-in-hand, then what? Then what, huh, Tyun? It’s easy for you to say I’m overthinking, but you aren’t thinking nearly enough!”

Kang Taehyun, the university’s Student Council member who is in-charge of overseeing the set-up for tomorrow's inter-uni basketball game – and also Beomgyu’s best friend of fifteen years – rolls his eyes so hard, it’s a wonder they don’t fall out of their sockets.

“Why do you keep setting yourself up for more pain, man? Why don't you try to invest these emotions somewhere they will be appreciated?”

“I can't just compel myself to start or stop feeling, dude…”

Shin Ryujin suddenly appears behind the bleachers that the two of them were covering with a banner, both hands planted in the back pockets of her jorts. They should look incredibly lame, but she somehow pulls them off.

Beomgyu looks at her with wide eyes, wondering how much she heard.

“Yo, dumbass! Are you coming to the game tomorrow?” She’s smirking at him but there's a sparkle in her eyes that makes him chuckle at the name.

“The name's Beomgyu.”

“That's what I said. So, are you coming?”

Beomgyu has actually been trying to think of an excuse to get out his regular movie night with you - and this sounds like the perfect one. He shrugs a shoulder. “Don’t really got any plans, so… Maybe I will.”

Taehyun gives him a weird look because he knows Beomgyu always had plans on Fridays.

Ryujin grins wide. “Perfect! Well, just two requests.”

He squints with interest. “What requests?”

“Wear my jersey! And, uh, don’t bring a date, please?”

She looks extremely bashful while saying the second part of the sentence. Which is somewhat jarring. It’s Shin fucking Ryujin, she eats men for breakfast. Why is she almost blushing?

But then Taehyun is cackling, which reminds Beomgyu of the first request she made. He immediately scowls. “Hey! I’m not wearing your jersey like some groupie!

She rolls her eyes, but her lips are quirked up because he didn’t say no to the second request. And he knows he won’t; you're the only one he ever asks to accompany him to places, and he's only going to the game tomorrow to escape you.

“Your loss. Just so you know, boys are lining up to wear my jersey…”

Scoffing, Beomgyu goes back to handing Taehyun more pins. “Yeah right.”

“What? You don’t believe me?” Ryujin scoffs. “Watch this - ayo, Heeseung! Wanna wear my jersey tomorrow?”

A screech from the Students Council’s Vice Prez is followed by a high-pitched: “For real? Yes, please, I—”

“Sike! Haha, gotcha, little bitch!”

Taehyun is doubled over in laughter and even Beomgyu can’t hold in his chuckles at the look of utter devastation on Heeseung’s face and victory on Ryujin’s. She raises an eyebrow when their gazes meet. “See?”

“How much did you pay him for this skit?”

She smacks his shoulder with an irritated whine. “You’re way too fucking cynical for no damn reason, dude. Okay, no jersey - but get a no. 17 placard for me, at least?”

Rolling his eyes, he finally nods.

“Great! See ya tomorrow, loser! Bye, Tyun!”

Taehyun waves at her as she leaves, while Beomgyu cups his hands around his mouth to yell out: “The name’s Beomgyu!”

“That’s what I said!”

“Man, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you actually enjoy talking to a girl.”

Offended to his very bones, Beomgyu gapes at his best friend. “Dude! I enjoy talking to girls! I’m straight! Or did you forget how I threw up that one time when you kissed me during spin-the-bottle in seventh gra—”

“Yes, I remember!” Taehyun smacks him with a scowl on his face. “But that’s not what I meant. Gyu, you only ever talk to Y/N. Or have you not realized that? And look absolutely lovesick and physically pained while doing that.”

“Nahhhh, untrue. It’s just—” He cuts himself off to purse his lips. Taehyun is one-hundred percent correct. “It’s just a little difficult to mask my emotions all the time, but I manage…”

Taehyun just shakes his head in obvious disappointment. Then he tilts his chin up towards the direction where Ryujin is laughing around with some girls from the cheer team. “She obviously likes you a lot. Don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t,” he mumbles, lips forming a pout because this is so confusing. “But isn’t she basically signing up for the hurt if she’s doing this despite knowing where I stand with Y/N?

“Just…” Taehyun sighs. “Yeah, just don’t give her false hope.”

Beomgyu feels like he’s giving himself false hope every single time he talks to you, but what can be done.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You end up texting him first, that night, to cancel tomorrow’s movie night. You apparently have “plans” with a friend.

Bile rises up Beomgyu’s throat at the thought of you finally going on a date with Soobin.

He can’t get himself to directly ask if that is the case, but fuck, why won’t you tell him? He goes to sleep with a pain in his chest that night.

the feeling it was bittersweet, realizing i was in too deep…

As fate would have it, Beomgyu bumps into you at the very gates of the basketball stadium, the next evening. You look like a dream in your short skirt and varsity jacket.

He feels nauseous at the thought of discovering Soobin trailing behind you with a large drink with two straws, or something.

“Uh… these are your plans?” He says in a way of greeting.

Your eyes widen when you see him, but then you pout. “Yeah! Why didn’t you tell me you were gonna be here? We would’ve come together!”

He immediately thinks of his promise to Ryujin and shakes his head. “Ah, actually… Shin Ryujin invited me.”

Your mouth forms an O, a lost expression crossing your face. He’s never been great at reading people, but with the way his brain gets fuzzy around you, he’s doing an even worse job right now. Because he can absolutely not tell what this look on your face means.

Right then, the girl herself arrives, a wistful smile on her face. “Thought I told you to not bring a date? And she’s wearing Chaewon’s jersey, hmph.”

“Oh! We didn't—”

You cut him off with a chuckle that somehow sounds a little strained. “Ah, I’m actually here with her sister!”

Yunjin? He didn’t know you were friends with her… But that means no Soobin, right? Which might mean that no confession happened yesterday?

“Dude, Chaewon’s our Forward and our captain. No hard feelings!” Ryujin throws up a peace sign at you, and the two girls laugh.

After you leave to look for Yunjin, Ryujin stays back, smirking at him. But there’s a distinct look in her eyes that he can, for a change, recognize. Partly because the fuzz in his brain left along with you. And partly because he sees this look in the mirror everyday.

“I don’t even stand a chance, do I?” She doesn’t sound upset, just… regretful.

Taehyun’s words come back to him. “Ryu, I—”

“Nah, it’s fine. I knew what I was getting into, Choi.” She smiles, this time, pointing at the ‘17’ placard in his hands. “I’m gonna score a basket just for this, though. Cheer loudly, ’kay?”

she was a lesson – i had to learn, i had to learn, yeah…

Beomgyu had gone to the game only for Ryujin, not for you. He literally came here to escape movie night with you.

Yet, he sits in the stadium with his eyes straying from Ryujin’s great moves as Point Guard, reaching across the court, to land on you. It’s so annoying and makes him feel so helpless, he wants to scream. But there’s something magnetic about your presence that just won’t let him exist peacefully.

Is this how love is supposed to feel? Exhausting and painful at all times?

What adds to the exhaustion and pain is the way you are seated with your eyes bright and teeth on display, Yunjin on one side and…Soobin on the other.

Though he saw it coming, Beomgyu still finds it really hard to swallow the pain that pricks at his throat at the sight of you giggling into Soobin’s side and looking at the guy with eyes full of a million stars. He tries to seek comfort in the way Soobin seems to reciprocate your happiness, but it’s really hard.

He isn’t even jealous at this point, he’s just tired. If he could stop himself from feeling so much, all the damn time, he really, really would.

The crowd suddenly cheers, drawing his attention away from you – thankfully – and back to the court. And then his eyes widen in surprise. Ryujin stands with her hands braced on her hips, gaze directly directed at him. Well – she said she would score a basket for him and she did. She lifts a hand to point at him, causing a louder cheer to roar across the stadium, and Beomgyu cannot hold back the loud chuckle that escapes him. He raises both his hands up in a double thumbs-up.

Somewhere from three rows below, Heeseung shouts out an expletive at him, but the game has resumed again so everyone around the guy asks him to shut up.

Like clockwork, Beomgyu’s gaze slowly floats back up at the stands, slowly zeroing in towards your seat – only to stop short. You’re not in your seat. And neither is Soobin.

Oh.

Now again, Beomgyu should be prepared to face this as well. But he’s once again at a loss.

Unwittingly, his brain conjures up images of you and Soobin finding a secluded, dark corner to make out in. He envisions the brightness he just saw in both of your gazes, imagines the tinkling giggles you would release, pictures the darkening of your cheeks.

And in that moment, he can’t find it in himself to be happy for you. He can’t pretend to like Soobin.

He aches to be the one you would have snuck off with; to be the one you would want to share secret kisses with.

He aches.

And in that moment, he realizes his feelings have gone too far. They have caused him to stop being a true well-wisher to you; he is being selfish.

He needs to take a step back.

i used to try to forget her…

“Dude, the one thing I asked of you was to not hurt Ryujin. What the hell do you mean you’re taking her out?”

Beomgyu pinches the bridge of his nose, almost regretting disclosing his plans to his best friend. But he needed Taehyun to be on his side to make sure he doesn’t chicken out. Although given the tone the guy is using with him right now, Beomgyu’s purpose might be failing either way.

He puts his phone on loudspeaker, extracting a jacket from his closet to match the blue t-shirt he’s wearing.

“She was awarded MVP for yesterday’s game for the first time in this season. When I congratulated her on it, she called me her lucky charm—”

“Ugh, it’s as if she wants you to hurt her,” Taehyun murmurs and Beomgyu can hear the grimace in his voice through the phone.

“So I asked her if she wanted to celebrate the win with her lucky charm, and she said yes…”

Taehyun gives a sigh. “You literally flirted with her.”

“I did. Weren’t you the one telling me I should focus my feelings where they will be reciprocated?”

“Yes, you should. But do you even feel anything?”

“I do, yeah…” Immense sadness and despair with a brush of frustration. “I feel like I’m gonna have a good time with her.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” Taehyun gives another sigh. “Just be smart, okay? Don’t lead her on, Gyu.”

“I won’t, man.”

Settling on a black denim jacket that goes with his jeans and boots of the same color, Beomgyu leaves his dorm in the half a decade old Corvette his parents have permitted him to keep on campus. He’s meeting Ryujin at the cafe, which saves him from spending time in the car with her.

When he enters the cafe, though, Beomgyu begins to wonder if he has somehow offended some higher, superior power by some action of his, for which he is now being punished on the daily.

Because before he can even begin to look around for his date, a giggling Soobin catches his eye. He’s sitting facing the door, feeding spaghetti to his date.

His date.

You.

Your back is to him, but Beomgyu can still see how you’ve styled your hair in a way that is different than usual. You’ve always complained that your hair is too silky to be held up in an updo—a remark Beomgyu can never understand because he, personally, loves the texture of your hair—and so this complicated bun feels so strange on you.

And the off-shoulder dress instead of your beloved full-sleeves. And the dangling earrings instead of your usual studs. And—

Holy fuck, this isn’t you.

This isn’t you.

Beomgyu is fully frozen in his spot now, stunned and panicked at the same time.

Soobin is on a date – with someone else.

Should he be happy or concerned?

The sweat accumulating on his palms indicates the latter.

“Gyu!”

The call snaps his attention to a corner of the cafe, where Shin Ryujin sits with a grin on her face. Pushing his lips up, he waves at her. But his eyes involuntarily swim back to Soobin once more – only this time, both the taller boy and his date, Kim Chaewon, the basketball captain, are looking at Beomgyu with matching smiles.

He doesn’t know how to respond. Or react. His smile is frozen on his lips and his hand is still up in a wave, however, so the couple take that to be his greeting and go back to talking among themselves. And Beomgyu pushes himself to finally walk towards Ryujin’s table.

“I see you already spotted what I was dying to gossip about,” Ryujin grumbles with a scowl when he settles opposite her.

Beomgyu blinks. “Uh… Soobin?”

“Who?” This time Ryujin is the one to give a clueless blink. But then her eyebrows rise. “Oh, the boy. Yeah, in a way, I guess? But Chaewon, obviously. She’s finally on a date with her crush of a whole ass year.”

What? “O–oh?”

The waiter comes over to take their orders, right then. Beomgyu asks for a club sandwich and beer, while Ryujin chooses an extra cheese loaded pizza and a virgin mojito.

“You don’t want me drunk around you, loser.” She winks at him but her smile is forced enough to make guilt unfurl in Beomgyu’s chest. “Anyways! Chaewon! She’s finally winning at life and it’s all thanks to your girl.”

Beomgyu’s heart jumps up to his throat for multiple reasons.

His girl? You? Who else could it even be.

He drily swallows. “My…?”

“She was so hard at work during yesterday’s match! Fuck knows what magical words she said to both of them but they finally stopped their cat and mouse chase for good.” A fond look enters Ryujin’s gaze as she peeks past him to look at the couple. “It was sickening, watching Chaewon pine day in and out. Kinda like it is to watch you.”

Ryujin is laughing at her own joke, but Beomgyu’s mind is stuck on the information she just imparted. “Yesterday’s match?”

“Yeah. She arrived with Yunjin, remember? They both sat with Soobin and talked about Chaewon the entire time. Then she said something to Chae during break, and boom – this scardy ass dude was finally asking Chae out at the end of the match!”

Oh, fuck. This is why you were sitting with Soobin yesterday.

You were setting him up with Chaewon.

This is probably why you have been hanging out with the guy and generally interacting so much with him recently as well.

Wait, was this why you asked him that question about having feelings for a best friend? As far as his general university knowledge goes, Chaewon and Soobin have been best friends since before college.

Oh fuck, indeed.

Beomgyu really blew things out of proportion and let his overthinking mind carry him away.

“Speaking of – when do you plan to confess, Choi?”

Beomgyu scoffs at the question. “Never.”

Ryujin looks genuinely confused at the response. “What? Why?”

“She doesn’t feel the same, Ryu. And she’s my best friend. I can’t risk it.”

“How do you know she doesn’t feel the same?”

That’s – an odd question. One that Beomgyu feels like should be very obvious to answer, but when he opens his mouth to do just that, he has to shut it back again. Because ‘I just know’ is going to sound as stupid out loud as it does in his head.

But then what else does he have? He thought you had feelings for someone else but that was obviously not the case.

“I… I mean isn’t it obvious? She would’ve hinted at it… said anything at all if she felt anything…”

The moment Ryujin narrows her eyes and clicks her tongue, he knows he messed up. “Like you have? You’re sitting on your hands, too, dumbass. Does she even know that you don’t go on dates?”

“I’m on a date right now.”

“Keep talking like that and you’ll leave this date with a black eye.”

The waiter arrives with their food, and as Ryujin dives right in, Beomgyu takes a moment to actually think about what the girl has been saying.

You not having feelings for someone else doesn’t automatically imply that you’ve suddenly stopped viewing Beomgyu platonically. Which is why he doesn’t want to suddenly drop his plans of moving on and go back to pining over you.

He wishes for this to be a smooth transition – getting rid of his romantic feelings for you while also staying friends. But if he pays mind to what Ryujin just said, he will block this way for himself.

Because the moment he confesses, it will be a one-way street. You’ll never talk to him again and he’ll be too embarrassed to even show you his face.

Now, of course, he isn’t even considering what could happen if you actually ended up reciprocating – because he’s done enough of that for years now and he’s honestly… tired.

Loving you, as he has concluded time again, is painful and exhausting. He just wants to be happy again.

“How about you stop giving me love advice and start looking for someone new to crush on?” Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at Ryujin, who picks up an olive from her pizza to throw at his face with a scowl.

But then when she dissolves into giggles, sprinkling her happiness and beauty all over him, Beomgyu has to pause to wonder if she doesn’t actually need to look for someone new to crush on.

He offers to drop her off at the end of the date and Ryujin thanks him for the treat. His hands feel a little clammy when she grins at him with a tilt of her head, short hair flying up with the wind.

“Will… will I see you again?”

“Uh, yeah? You see me everyday, dumbass.” Ryujin gives a chuckle but it doesn’t sound natural.

“No, I mean – like this. On a date.”

Her shoulders deflate and her smile leaves her face. Pursing her lips, she looks at him in what could only be defined as disappointment. “This wasn’t a date, Beomgyu. And I won’t be your rebound.”

He’s not asking her to be – except, maybe he is. He doesn’t know anymore.

She seems to know more than him because she gives him another one of those wry smiles of hers and pats his shoulder. “Tell her how you feel and get out of this stupid limbo. I can be your shoulder to cry on, but not a heart to play with. Good night, loser.”

He truly feels like a loser when she walks away from his car.

but now i smile when i remember.

Beomgyu has heard people talk a great deal about ‘right person, wrong time’ or ‘wrong person, right time’, but he has never felt the gravity of it the way he does now.

You’re sitting on the bleachers with Lee Heeseung and giggling your heart away like he’s the funniest man alive. Heeseung, to his credit, is looking at you with a sparkle in his eyes that rivals the entire galaxy.

And as Beomgyu watches the scene from next to the water dispenser in a discrete corner, the bottom of his stomach feels strangely calm.

It’s been a week since he had that confrontation with Ryujin. He didn’t exactly take her advice and run to confess to you, but he certainly did drop hints. And he certainly did observe your reactions.

At the end, he ruefully finds himself exactly where he always has been – watching you offer your affections to someone else from afar.

“How long has he been keeping this in?” he asks around a scoff when Heeseung shows you some magic trick and gloats in your excited clapping.

Taehyun hums as he screws the lid of the water dispenser tight and dusts his hands off to come stand next to Beomgyu. “Fuck knows. I think he’s always smiled a little too brightly at her whenever—oh my God, did you see that? Butterfingers! I could see that card from here. Making a joke out of the best card trick in the books!”

Beomgyu laughs at his friend’s grumbles. Then he gives a sigh. “She looks happy, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, she does. But I don’t really think she’s on the same page as Lee. Or even you for that matter.” Taehyun settles on the ground and Beomgyu follows his lead. “She’s enjoying her college days like a normal uni student. And maybe you should too, Gyu. Enough of this pining, enough of being in love. Don’t you want to get drunk off your ass and makeout with some ditzy freshman at a party?”

Beomgyu’s horror must show on his face because Taehyun snorts when their eyes meet.

“Okay, maybe not all of it. But… we’re young, buddy. You’ll have plenty of time to fall in love. Hopefully this time with someone who loves you more?”

Beomgyu watches the way you lean closer to Heesung to whisper something in his ear, and as the guy’s cheeks grow red in response, he frowns to himself.

“What about all those times when she seemed jealous? Or upset I wasn’t paying attention to her?”

“Dude, for real?” Taehyun punches his shoulder. “You get like that too when I’m not available at your every beck and call.”

Beomgyu slowly exhales, leaning back on his palms and tilting his head up to let the sunlight wash over his face.

He really is stepping out of his delusions, this time.

You don't like him like that. You don't have feelings for him.

You and him are going to remain just friends.

He's finally ready to face the fact and move forward.

“Yo, loser! Wanna play catch?”

He’s smiling even before he has opened his eyes. Taehyun clears his throat in an exaggerated way with his eyebrows raised. “Never seen you grin that brightly in a while, my man…”

He looks around towards the source of the voice, his grin turning into laughter at the evil gleam in Ryujin’s eyes as she hurtles the basketball towards him.

Somehow managing to catch it with an enraged gasp, Beomgyu wastes no time in chasing the girl with it.

Somewhere in his peripheral vision, he notices the way you have cuddled up with Heesung and how the two of you are laughing at his antics with Ryujin.

When he briefly meets your eye, you give him a thumbs up with your grin.

And for the first time in years, he is able to smile back at you without an ounce of pain in his heart.

and i was so young till she kissed me like a whiskey… like a whiskey.

FIN.

#txt #txt x you #txt x reader #txt angst #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu fic #beomgyu fanfic #choi beomgyu x reader #beongyu x you #beomgyu x reader #txt imagines #beomgyu imagines #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #txt fanfic #txt scenarios #beomgyu scenarios #tomorrow x together

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laxmiree · 1 year

Text

[CN] MLQC Lucien’s Warm Fragrance Date translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Arriving As Promised Free SR Event | Prologue+Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6-9 | Warm Fragrance Date (You're here!)

"I think, rather than a good little assistant, it's more accurate to say that MC is a very talented gardener lady."

"Huh? Why do you say that?"

Lucien doesn't directly answer my question, instead, he pulls my hand and places it on the location of his heart.

I immediately understood the words he didn't say.

"This beautiful flower continues to grow, connecting all the veins that are linked to you."

[T/N: VERY RECOMMENDED to read the event story first because some convo on this date will make more sense if you read the event stories first]

[Date – Video ver]

youtube

(T/N: As always, I always recommend watching the video for a more comprehensive experience.

If the direct video doesn’t work - [Use this link]

(Besides, tumblr doesn’t allow us to use an old text editor anymore so I can’t add up more than 30 pics in this post. Tumblr post alone won’t capture the change in background and sprite as usual(for reference I always have like 60+ pic in one post LOL)

[Date – Transcript ver]

[Part 1]

The gentle morning sunlight pours down, passing through the vines on the wall, casting specks of light and shadow.

I look around, and as far as my eyes can see, various types of plants occupy my surroundings. However, I don't catch sight of Lucien's figure amidst the lushness.

MC: …Is Lucien not here?

I double-check his text message, then I put down the jasmine flower pot I've planted and the "OPEN" wooden sign. Afterward, I turn around and walk deeper into the greenhouse.

Today is the official opening day of the "Flower Shop." Perhaps 'Shop Manager' Lucien is currently preparing in some corner.

Following the path through the greenhouse, I continue forward. The comfortable temperature in the air makes me feel as if I'm in an oasis.

Under the towering green plants in front of me, dozens of calla lilies are cozily undergoing photosynthesis.

Next to the one blooming the most vibrantly, there's a label that reads "Reserved." My fingertips brush against that familiar handwriting, and I mutter softly.

MC: Miss X?

MC: ...I can't believe there's a reservation already.

[A throwback to Dance SP MQ and main story Dr. X :"]

I can't help but sigh, and I bend down to carefully observe these well-taken-care-of plants and flowers.

The snow-white petals of the calla lilies bloom brilliantly, and the leaves stretch energetically. The red and yellow tulips nestle against each other as if even the falling patches of light have become gentle.

??: Have you been here for a while? Why didn't you call out to me?

A familiar voice sounds behind me, and I quickly turn around.

The sunlight filters through the glass roof and falls upon Lucien, outlining a faint halo of light around his figure.

His white shirt appears exceptionally bright amidst the lush surroundings. His collar is unbuttoned, and he casually rolls up his sleeves, revealing his slender forearms.

The blue work apron he's wearing is loosely tied, and he doesn't seem to have noticed. A warm smile graces the corner of his lips.

With the jasmine pot I had just set down in his arms, he slightly bends forward and reaches out to hang the wooden sign on a nail above the railing.

This version of Lucien catches me off guard, and I find myself laughing with a belated realization.

MC: Pfft.

Lucien: (laughs, then playfully says) It seems my outfit is indeed a bit funny, isn't it?

MC: Of course not, "Shop Manager Lucien" is much more handsome than I imagined!

Lucien: Oh? Is that so?

Lucien slowly approaches me, and as his familiar scent envelops me, my heart rate instinctively quickens a little faster.

Lucien: (chuckles) So, can you tell me, what did you imagine 'Manager Lucien' to be like before?

MC: Manager Lucien's appearance right now has completely erased any other imagined images I had in my mind.

I hook my arm around Lucien's neck, a smile playing on my lips.

MC: Right now, my heart and eyes are filled with just the one before me.

I retie the loosely knotted apron behind him smoothly. But as I start to pull my hand back, he captures it in his grasp.

The next second, a gentle kiss carrying the scent of grass lands softly on my lips. Before my eyes could fully close, all that was left in my vision were those eyes brimming with joy.

Lucien removed his glasses at some point, and the gentleness in his eyes reflected my gradually reddening cheeks clearly.

Lucien: (whispers) Everyone else is busy in other greenhouses. Today, there are only the two of us here.

He slightly increases the distance between us, his brows and eyes curved.

Lucien: I remember that a lady once said that on the day she visits my "garden," she would buy the most beautiful flower from me.

MC: I remember that. I won't easily back down from my promise.

Lucien: Then, how about becoming my assistant? Consider it as payment for the flowers you intend to buy.

I tiptoe and peck his cheek on the side.

MC: Of course I'm willing to.

[Part 2]

As we walk through the corridor built with flowering vines from the entrance hall, the floral fragrance becomes even more rich and fragrant.

Lucien leads me through the corridor, and a lounge surrounded by flower walls comes into view. A row of bookshelves and an innovative instrument sit quietly in the corner.

Lucien: This is a newly introduced instrument from the Bioscience research center. It can measure various values of the brain's nervous system to detect the brain health of residents.

Curiously, I approach the instrument, looking around with keen interest.

MC: Can brain health really be determined using these two lines on top?

Lucien: If you're curious, you can put it on and give it a try.

Lucien noticed my eagerness and took the instrument's wires, guiding me to position my head correctly.

Lucien: Bring this wire over here, and place this device on here…

Following Lucien's guidance, I carefully placed the device from the instrument's wire onto my head.

Lucien: Now, let's take a look at Visitor MC's brain health, shall we?

MC: …Um!

I stare at the screen intently, and after a while, a green curve with a centered slope appears on the display.

MC: How is it?

Lucien: Hmm…

MC: I-Is it very bad?

Lucien: (chuckle) Very healthy.

MC: Phew…

MC: Back then, you were worried I might not adapt well, but the truth is, my "vitality" is quite resilient as well.

Lucien: How come I remember that it was a certain lady who was more concerned about me at the time?

Lucien: You prepared all sorts of emergency medicines for me, yet you only brought a small amount for yourself.

MC: Well, that might be because I've been eating well, sleeping well, and thinking about you a lot…

Lucien: From a medical perspective, perhaps "thinking about me a lot" played the most significant role.

MC: Although you're right, 'Professor Lucien' shouldn't go against medical principles just to prove the importance of "thinking about you".

Lucien places his hand on the top of my head and proceeds to explain seriously.

Lucien: Medical studies have confirmed that positive emotions, or good moods, are beneficial for brain neurons.

Lucien: I believe this 'Professor Lucien' hasn't gone against medical principles.

Lucien: People, scenery, animals, objects... all can serve as triggers for positive emotions.

Lucien: Including the plants we are cultivating now, it's all for studying the effects of different species on brain neurons.

MC: Does that mean that even for the same species, the experience could be different for different people?

Lucien: Exactly. The factors underlying the generation of positive emotions vary from person to person, and the feelings evoked by the same external factors can be completely different.

MC: Hmm... just like how I feel happy when I drink sweet milk tea, and Professor Lucien feels happy when savoring a cup of tea?

Seemingly amused by the interesting analogy, Lucien chuckles softly.

Lucien: (chuckles softly) Yes and no.

Lucien: If we slightly modify the reference in the comparison to "savoring tea alone and drinking milk tea with MC," for me, the latter naturally brings more happiness.

MC: Oh~ So the Great Professor's sweet words must also vary from person to person, right?

Lucien: Hmm... Not exactly.

Lucien: To be precise, I'm only like this with you.

I can't help but raise my lips; a kind of subtle tenderness seems to be quietly emerging from the depths of my heart, making me feel light and I can't help but indulge in it.

MC: I'm only like this with you too.

The conversation is interrupted by the hum of the instrument, and the fluctuation in the green curve produces new monitoring data for the device.

MC: Huh? Is there a new change?

Lucien: Mm, it seems that at this very moment, this little lady is happier than before.

The rising curve on the screen dances exuberantly as if it wants to reveal my thoughts in full detail.

Feeling somewhat embarrassed, I remove the device, afraid that the next moment it might detect those beautiful feelings in my heart once again.

MC: Alright, alright, I admit that indeed "thinking about you" played a significant role.

MC: So... Professor Lucien, do you think about me a lot too?

Lucien: Yes. Because I miss you so much, it feels as if the flowering period is endless.

Lucien's gaze softens, and the corners of his eyes curve like a gentle spring, causing the humidity in the greenhouse to quietly evaporate, filling the room with a sweet fragrance.

[Part 3]

After becoming familiar with the structure of the greenhouse, Lucien guided me through the final preparations before the official opening.

Since he has already completed most of it, my next task is to transplant the calla lilies into the flower bed.

Lucien: Here are these new gloves for you, and take this too.

Lucien hands over a brand new pair of gloves and then takes out a beige headscarf, naturally tucking my hair behind as he ties it on me.

His slightly warm fingertips inadvertently graze the back of my neck, creating a subtle and ticklish sensation.

Lucien: Hmm, you indeed look very cute with it on.

Lucien places a small red trowel in front of me and begins to demonstrate personally.

Lucien: Calla lilies thrive in a humid environment but are sensitive to waterlogging. They have high water requirements, so the root seedlings are crucial.

MC: I remember you mentioned in the email that Calla lilies, being plants adapted to humid regions, are much more challenging to grow in the desert compared to other plants.

Lucien: That's correct. Therefore, during the transplanting process, be careful not to damage the root seedlings with the trowel.

I nod and carefully take the calla lilies that Lucien has prepared, ready to transplant them into the flower bed.

The delicate and fragile root tendrils seem as if they could snap at the slightest inadvertent touch, and I take a deep breath subconsciously.

Lucien: (gently) Take it easy.

Lucien gently squeezes my hand, and the familiar reassurance gradually soothes my emotions.

I nod and readjust my breathing.

First, plant the flower seedlings into the small holes that have been prepared in the flower bed. Then, rearrange the positions of their roots, and finally, cover the soil from the side onto the flower seedlings…

I'm mentally rehearsing the steps Lucien taught me, carefully following the instructions as needed.

MC: Wow! It's a success…

Before I could even finish cheering, the next moment, the flower seedling drooped in front of me.

MC: ...Oops, did I just waste a flower seedling?

Thinking that each of these flower seedlings was personally nurtured by Lucien in such an environment, I can't help but feel a sense of guilt and regret.

Lucien: You didn't, it's just not fully acclimated yet.

Lucien: Don't worry, let's try it again.

Lucien said as he leaned closer to me, his palm gently cradling my hand. He carefully adjusts the position of the flower seedling and then presses the soil down slightly.

As if by some kind of magical spell, the delicate flower seedling trembles and sways, but it never topples over.

MC: Is it... a success?

Lucien: Yes, you did great.

With the experience of this successful attempt and Lucien's hands-on teaching, I learned some small techniques, and the subsequent transplanting process is going much smoother than I had imagined.

MC: Phew, just one more pot to go until we're done!

As I said this, I raised my hand to wipe the sweat from my face. I was about to dig out the seedling from the pot when Lucien suddenly chuckled.

MC: ...What's wrong?

He raises his hand with a smile and the clean back of his finger brushes against the tip of my nose.

Lucien: You've turned into a spotty bunny.

MC: …!

Thinking about the "fertilizer elements" in the soil, I hastily raise my hand and start randomly wiping my face.

Lucien can't help but laugh, then he grabs my hand.

Lucien: (laughs softly) If you keep rubbing like that, our spotty bunny might turn into a black bunny.

Lucien: Let me help you instead.

He uses the clean part of his palm to gently wipe across my face, bit by bit.

The delicate touch of his fingertips and the warmth from his palm gradually amplifies.

His breath, accompanied by a warm breeze, audibly falls on my ear, and my earlobe subtly starts to feel ticklish.

At some point, his gaze has shifted from my face to my eyes, and his finger lightly taps on my cheek.

Lucien: Now it's clean.

I can't seem to take my eyes off his face for a moment.

Lucien: (smiles) Do I also have something that needs wiping on my face?

MC: Ah? Well, right here on the chin…

I lift up my sleeve and gently wipe away the almost invisible speck of dirt on his chin.

The scent of flowers blending with the earthy aroma lingers in the air, and a gentle kiss softly grazes my cheek near my lips.

Lucien: Thank you, Miss Gardener.

[Part 4]

After a day of busyness, the flower shop's business is doing quite well.

People keep coming to buy flowers and admire them, and Lucien can smoothly carry out his experiment. He has printed a thick stack of monitoring data alone.

Until the sun sets in the west, everything except for that reserved calla lilies has been sold out.

MC: Looks like it's time to flip the signboard and announce the closing time~

Lucien's gaze falls on the back of the wooden signboard, his fingers tracing the patterns on it.

Lucien: Unexpectedly, there is a "gardener fox" on the other side?

MC: You noticed it!

I said as I leaned closer, my fingertips lightly tracing the slightly crooked wood-carved design.

[So it's her 'artwork' that she mentioned in the event :"]

MC: I carved it based on the desert fox's appearance and added a little touch of my own creativity.

Lucien: It's a nice touch. A little fox wearing glasses, an apron, and holding a pot of flowers.

Lucien: Hmm... Is it like this?

Lucien speaks as he raises the sign next to his face, mimicking the posture of the little fox on the wooden sign.

MC: Hahaha, it seems I carved it quite lifelike!

MC: By the way, after closing the store, let's go see the desert fox together~ I saw it last time near the sand dunes near the guest house.

MC: This time, I have Mr. Fox with me. So who knows, we might just have a smooth encounter with it.

Lucien: Of course, that's great, but I'd rather have a chance encounter with a desert rabbit.

Lucien: This little fox seems a bit lonely. I think this wooden sign leaves me some room for creativity.

[He also wants to carve a dessert bunny to accompany the dessert fox so it won't be lonely🥺]

Lucien carefully puts away the wooden sign and retrieves cleaning tools from the greenhouse.

Lucien: You've been busy all day, take a break. I'll handle the cleaning.

MC: There's no way the little assistant can take a break and let the big professor be busy.

MC: Besides, I've been resting well these past few days, but you've been in the experimental greenhouse all this time. I think you should be the one taking a break.

I say this while playfully pushing his back, half-forcing him to go rest on the sofa next to the flower hall.

Lucien accommodates and sits down but takes the opportunity to hold my hand.

Lucien: Well, there's no reason for the little assistant not to listen to the professor.

I can't resist this demeanor and tone at all, so I have to compromise and sit down next to him, nuzzling up against his side.

MC: The little assistant is now obediently resting. Professor Lucien, do you have any more requests?

Lucien: I think an obedient little assistant like you should receive her well-deserved reward.

Lucien promptly gets up and when he returns, he's holding the only remaining pot containing the calla lily with "reserved" written on it.

Seeing me blink in confusion, Lucien smiles and speaks.

Lucien: From the moment it miraculously survived, I selfishly reserved it in your name.

MC: My name? Does that mean…

At this moment, I finally realized belatedly why this unique pot of calla lily had been reserved early on and kept until now.

That Miss X is actually myself.

MC: So this calla lily…. is the first one that survived as you mentioned in your email?

Lucien: Mm. You mentioned wanting to see it with your own eyes, and now it's yours.

A gentle voice brushed against my heart, and I quickly took a few steps in his direction.

He cradles that pot of calla lily in his hands so dearly, and I feel as if I can hear something blooming in my heart.

MC: It's really beautiful... From this angle, the outer edges of the flower look like the shape of a heart.

Lucien: Perhaps that's why the calla lily's flower language is "the veins of our hearts are connected together".

The pure white petals sway gently in the soft breeze of the flower hall, the sunset's light casting a golden shimmer on Lucien's eyelashes. The picturesque beauty momentarily left me a bit entranced.

It's only when he bends down to place the flower in my hand that I realize our distance has somehow become so close.

Lucien: I think, rather than a good little assistant, it's more accurate to say that MC is a very talented gardener lady.

MC: …Huh? Why do you say that?

Lucien doesn't directly answer my question; instead, he pulls my hand and places it on the location of his heart.

I immediately understood the words he didn't say.

Lucien: This beautiful flower continues to grow, connecting all the veins that are linked to you.

A soft feeling wells up in my heart, his warmth in my hand, and before me is his most familiar expression.

The accumulation of longing and his gentle words make me unable to resist leaning my head against his shoulder and nuzzling it.

MC: I'm the same.

MC: Every move you make, it's all connecting with me.

MC: Sowing, nurturing the soil, watering, fertilizing, and then the flowers bloom…

MC: Every time you share these with me, it's like I can feel your emotions in that moment.

MC: You sharing your happiness with me makes me feel even happier.

Lucien: Mm, I like sharing with you.

Lucien: (softly) It's like we're taking care of them together, and you're right here by my side.

MC: If that's the case, then I'm just like you.

MC: When I see the photos of the seedlings you post, I imagine how you planted them.

MC: When I'm planting jasmine flowers, I also feel like we're nurturing them together.

MC: I get incredibly happy when I receive emails from you, and I imagine the world you see through the things you share.

MC: I feel like I have something to look forward to every day because of the promise I'm about to fulfill, it’s as if... all the waiting and longing is sweet.

Lucien reaches out and pulls me into his arms, affectionately nuzzling the tip of my nose.

Lucien: (tenderly) Endless is just a broad concept of time, it doesn't even begin to capture a fraction of my longing to see you again.

Lucien: MC, I miss you so much.

Lucien: Even though you are right in front of me.

The gentle breeze, carrying the fragrance of flowers, rustles the branches and leaves inside the flower hall. In my ears, there is the gentle rustling of leaves and Lucien's slightly sinking voice.

In a moment of reverie, the hues of the sunset have a scent, and the fragrance of flowers has a sound.

I submerged myself in the veins of his longing, where love flourishes abundantly, lush and verdant.

#i'll never get over the 'love is like flower' concept with them sob sob #10/10 very cute fluff piece before main story angst #mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mlqc cn #mlqc spoiler #mlqc #mlqc translation #mr. love queen's choice #mr love lucien #mlqc xu mo #mlqc spoilers #Youtube

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scarthefangirl · 1 year

Text

My job

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Request: I realize your request are opening soon so here's my request. Most of the time I don't make requests but I have a request. Can you do like a Peter Parker x sick reader. Where like Peter was doing night patrol and came home to the reader asleep on the floor in the bathroom but like whining in her sleep because her head and stomach hurts. So Peter picks them up and they hug him so tight and tells him it hurts. Peter does everything in his power to make it stop hurting

Warnings: Throwing up, sickness, doctors mentioned, idk what else

Story type: Imagine

A/N: I didn't revise this lol and ik its not great but I'm just now starting to write again so cut me some slack lol

Masterlist | REQUESTS OPEN

Peter had been gone the last couple hours, so Y/N was assuming something came up. Most nights she'd spend worrying while she did tasks to keep herself busy waiting for him to come home. She always stresses out after an hour passes, over thinking, watching the news, checking social media, constantly on the look out. Tonight however, her mind had yet to linger to Peter. Instead there she was, lying on the bathroom floor clutching her stomach. It had started this morning with a headache and slight stomach pain. Y/N knew it wasn't period cramps so she wasn't sure whay the cause was. Progressively throughout the day the pain got worse. It isn't nausea but more like a stabbing pain, and a horrible throbbing headache.

The reason she was on the bathroom floor was because the carpet and bed and couch were all too warm and soft. The cool comfort of the hard bathroom floor was better, at least until Peter got home. Y/N was whining as she fell as sleep, curled up in a ball. Her hair was messy and pulled back in a messy bun and she was wearing her pajamas. After some time she fell into a restless sleep, figuring Peter will be home soon.

It was 1 am before Peter arrived home, and he was careful to be very quiet as he entered the house. When he noticed Y/N wasn't up waiting for him he got slightly worried because normally, she would be waiting anxiously on the couch or in the dining room for him. He walked to the bedroom and was even more alarmed when he noticed Y/N wasn't in bed. He made his way to the bathroom and his heart dropped at the sight of his girlfriend on the floor, groaning and whining in her sleep. She looked so uncomfortable and Peter couldn't help the panic rising in his chest.

"Y/N, Y/N, wake up," he shook her gently. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing the bloodshot appearance inside them. Her bags were heavy and she looked greenish. "You look- rough." Peter admitted.

"Gee, just what I wanted to hear." Y/N attempted sarcasm, but she felt dizzy as she spoke. Peter noticed and immediately grabbed her hair as she threw up in the toilet. It hurt him to see her in so much discomfort.

When Y/N finished she leaned onto Peter. He went to get here water, leaving her alone again. He hurriedly returned and as she drank the water he quizzed her.

“What’s wrong? How long have you been feeling like this? What are your symptoms?” He rambled. I just sat in his lap and cuddled into him.

“I woke up not feeling well and it just got worse. I have a horrible migraine and stomach ache.” I mumbled into him. He petted my hair and rocked a little.

“Do you want to go to the doctor baby?” He asked but I shook my head. “Okay… Let’s wait a day or two and see if it passes before going to the doctor, unless it becomes unbearable.” I could tell he wanted me to go now but wasn’t going to push. He took me to the bedroom after a bit and laid me down in the bed. “Are you hot? Cold? Do you need a blanket? I can take some of your clothes off if you’re too hot.”

“Peter, as much as you want to strip off my clothes, I’m okay.” I attempted a smile but it was tiny. He laughed and felt my forehead. He went to the bathroom and ran water over a washcloth. When he put it on my forehead it made me shiver slightly from the coolness. All of a sudden Peter had thrown a blanket over me. I noticed his pacing around, trying to think of ways to help. He’d say the water by my bedside and turned the television in our room off.

“Peter.” I whispered, he immediately turned towards me, ready to do whatever I needed. “Just lay with me.” I told him. He nodded and got in next to me, cuddling against me.

Throughout the night I got up to puke quite a bit. Peter was always there, holding my hair back for me and giving me water, telling me how good I was doing. The next day he told me I needed to go the doctor because my condition wasn’t getting better. He held my hand as we walked into the room. I was struggling to walk.

I left with antibiotics and was told to stay in bed as much as possible for the next two weeks. “Peter don’t make this bed rest some big thing.” I voiced slightly on our way home.

“I make no promises.” He told me. If it wouldn’t have caused me pain, I’d have groaned. Luckily my migraine subsided by the third day on antibiotics. I was left with a horrible stomach ache and throwing up every half hour.

Peter helped me for the two weeks and when I was bored out of my mind he always cheered me up. He would watch movies, play games, read to me, buy me little gifts. He made meals, or attempted to, for me often. He would also order in if that’s what I wanted.

Soon enough I was finally able to live like normal. I hugged Peter after my appointment to confirm so. He kissed me sweetly and I happily kissed back.

“Thank you for taking care of me, my love.” I grinned up at him.

“Anytime, beautiful.” He smiled back. “It’s my job.”

Tags: // @themarvelprince // @misselsbells06 // @american-sataness // @cr0ssoverf4n4tic // @depressednoob // @cerene-ciderr // @leighanne03 // @inluvwithfictionalwomen // @singhfae // @mythixmagic // @itsyourboymicheal // @Ravensinthedaylight

Want to join my taglist?

#marvel #marvel imagine #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman no way home #marvel fanfic #mcu x reader #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #mcu fandom

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oboy-me · 1 year

Note

Hi! This is my first ever ask on one of these blogs, and I hope you’re still open to them at some point. But If you could get around to doing maybe a Possessive Levi x M!MC nsfw imagine, I think that might be pretty sweet. Like a soft-ish yandere scenario.

Hello anon, I'm honored that you chose to send me this ask! And just for you, I've done a little bit more than just an imagine; this one's gonna be a whole drabble! I may have ended up getting a little carried away with the length, but I wanted to make up for how long I've been gone, too. 💖

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▸▸ It was supposed to be his day with you; you two set aside some time to go check out a local arcade cabinet that had just been installed. When Mammon and Beelzebub show up to take you away from him though, he's in ruins. He's left to seethe, but this time alone gives him an idea...

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It just wasn't fair.

He knew you better than everyone else. He knew your favourite things to watch, your favourite things to eat, your favourite haunts, the little intricacies and quirks of your habits. He could recite from heart the episodes you love the most.

So why was it Mammon who got to touch you so intimately, and with such easily?

Fingers tipped with a deep blue nail polish dug deep into one of his plain pillows, knees drawn up tighter towards his chest to feel the compression of gryphons down on his body. Those honey-violet eyes of his stared at his D.D.D, missed message notifications practically staring him back down in turn.

It had only been a couple hours earlier. You were hanging out with Leviathan at a local arcade, invited by the Avatar of Envy to check out a cabinet that had just been installed that morning. It was all going so well, he felt so high on your smiles and laughter, he felt like he was actually able to make you happy. Then Mammon swooped in with Beelzebub at his back; they stole your attention away swiftly and firmly, and wouldn't give you a chance to decline before they dragged you off to do some stupid outing of theirs.

The memory played on loop made his blood boil hot, his chest tightening until it was a white-hot knot all throughout. It wasn't fair at all that they got to trample all over his day out with you, and that Mammon felt so bold as to slide his hand around your waist like he owned you. What was so special about Mammon — or the others for that matter — that let them be so close to you so effortlessly? Was it because he was some filthy shut-in otaku that you only hung out with to pity? … No. He wanted to have more faith in you than that.

Before he ended up spiraling again, he needed to watch something. Anything. His favourite anime streaming site had just announced an exclusive show premiering on their service solely, maybe he'd turn that on and just let himself get lost in a fantasy world where he didn't have to think about how deeply his heart ached for you, for your smile, and most of all, for your love.

The show he chose started off interestingly enough, being about a young man serving as the main protagonist, whose pet hog protected him as they traveled in search of answers to an old riddle; Levi loved to try and solve those types of plots before anything was confirmed or denied by the studio itself. As the episodes progressed though he took notice of one of the other protagonists — a rather reserved girl who seemed to very methodically work to charm the main character and kept the other love interests at bay out of a wicked sense of jealousy and possessiveness. Leviathan hadn't even realized how far he was leaned in as the episodes continued on to show this "yandere"-type girl cunningly maneuvering to curry favor with the male lead through both subtle and obvious shows of affection — all of her efforts culminating in a kabedon that won the young man's heart over in one fell swoop.

The girl… She was someone he could see himself being. Like her, he was viciously envious and upset that others were encroaching on the man he loved so dearly, and like her, he would do anything to earn the favor of that very same boyfriend. Though unlike her, he wasn't nearly as cunning or charismatic to pull off such clever stunts — but he was, if nothing else, very determined. Maybe he wasn't charismatic, but if he practiced and said the right things, you might be won over all the same.

So he planted a text message for you to read; a request to come to his room when you had the chance. Now that he'd asked you, there was no going back. He'd have to steel himself and make the move, just like in that anime — he had to channel that girl's bravery and charisma, her desire to win over the love of her life. So he waited and practiced the words he wanted to say over and over in his mind, out loud to nail the tone he wanted, eyes almost fixated on his D.D.D until he saw your message;

[ Okay, I'll be over in a moment. ]

This was it. This was his only chance; he rushed out of his seat and stood near the door poised and ready, he could only tell that it had swung open from seeing it with his own two eyes. If you said anything, he couldn't hear it over his heart drumming so loudly in his ears that he could not even hear his own shaky breathing. You had not even gotten past the door when he had closed the gap between you two, using his body to push you back, one hand of his reaching out to anchor down on the wall he'd backed you up against. In the same rush of movement his tail had lashed forth from hiding, snapped out in a way that would push the door shut with a flourish.

He had moved to kabedon you, just as he saw in the anime… and you had to admit, he had some fluid movement when doing so — enough so that it brought a rosy tint to your cheeks as you were surprised to see him being so bold.

"Y/N!" He gasped out, his face a bright scarlet as he fought the urge to crumple. You could see in the way his arms shook and his body trembled that he was fighting that desire to give up, to concede his defeat, to withdraw into himself and forget about what happened. Yet he didn't. Through a breath that was unsteady yet fighting so desperately to sound grounded and firm, he started to speak again.

"Y/N… I can't stand it any more… Seeing how Mammon handled you… I… I won't let that happen again! You… You're mine, you know that?!"

You froze at that, eyes widening at the spluttering declaration; this was a side of Levi you knew existed, but never had you heard him say it in such a firm, almost desperate manner.

"You… You be… belong to…" Then it was Levi's turn to stop mid-sentence, his chest practically seized up and unable to muster the courage to speak further. It was that familiar gaze of regret and shame in his eyes when he felt he had pushed too far, asked too much of you. His head sunk low, shoulders slouched for a moment, but on instinct you had reached out to grasp his chin, to raise his face right back up. It elicited a gasp out of the demon, his orange-violet eyes fixed upon your own now as his mind raced with questions — and desires.

"… To me…" Leviathan finally breathed out after a moment of tightness in his throat. His entire expression had melted with those two words into a mixture of rising passion and awe. Awe at you, his boyfriend, being so kind, so willing to go along with his outburst. It was such a strong wave of emotion that he had not even realized you pulled him closer for a kiss until your sweet lips had pressed to his own; when you had done this, there was no stopping the floodgates that opened in his mind. You were so close, so vulnerable, so very much his, and he wanted people to know it. He wanted his brothers to respect the fact that you were his, you were his handsome boyfriend, you were not to be claimed by anyone else.

Without thinking, his hands shot forward to grasp at your shirt and pull you in, breathless little gasps breaking the kiss before he lunged right back in for more. You encouraged him with how you wrapped your arms around his neck, gave him the subtle clues that you were willing to give yourself to him and fulfill those desires so clearly writ large in every action he took. You were relishing in this just as much as he was, and it led to you both having leaned in to one another until bodies were pressed flush and you could feel a noticeable throb against your belly. Leviathan's fantasies had been stewing in his mind for so long now, and in the heat of this moment threatened to boil over and completely consume any rational thought he had.

You smiled against his lips and decided to try and test just how sensitive he really was by smoothing one of your hands down the Avatar of Envy's back, down past his waist, to give his posterior a nice little squeeze. You expected the sharp inhaled gasp, but you weren't ready to hear the shuddering moan that wracked his chest, the sound like melting honey in your ears. It almost sounded as if he begged you for something, so you tried for another, almost kneading grope — and this time his whole body responded by rolling against yours, head thrown back and tail suddenly lashed upwards uncontrollably.

"Please!" Leviathan would gasp out, hands tensed on your shirt. "Please, do that again…! I want more… Please… Y/N…" The gasps he gave were choked, but more from how much pleasure was coursing through his veins, hazing his vision and his thoughts. You could tell he was lost in the moment, not a single care in the world for if he "deserved" such amazing sensations. You wanted to treat him for being so forward — he waited so patiently for you, he made his thoughts so clear to you, he only wanted you. Yet as you went for his belt you were stopped by a shaky hand, though Leviathan was quick to quell any concerns you had.

"Be... Before you do," the demon exhaled, his eyes shifting to watch your expression. "Can... Can I... nibble your neck...? Ju-Just a little..."

The question surprised you a little bit, yet you couldn't help but find it so endearing; here he was moments ago demanding that you were his, and now he was asking permission to claim a little bit of you. With a warm smile you gave him that permission, and found he only hesitated for a moment before he leaned in and pressed nervous lips and sharp canines to your neck. Leviathan's actions felt so gentle despite his explosive display of emotions, as if he were worshipping you, revering your body as something sacred despite the overwhelming need building in his chest.

The first nip was experimental, testing the waters against your skin. The second found more purchase near the artery in your neck, a gasp drawn against your throat as Leviathan froze and took it all in — the rapid rush of blood just inches below his lips was because of him. It was for him that your heart beat like so.

"I love you..." Leviathan would breathe out before taking another bite a little further down. "I love you... I love you so much..." A few more marks were left trailing down to your collarbone, but then he pulled away; the expression on his face could only be described as utterly consumed by lust, eyes soft and hazy and glistening in the light, lips parted with an awe-struck smile, scarlet spreading from his cheeks to his ears.

"Okay... I'm ready now," the demon would utter as he moved your hand back to his belt, a stuttering murmur escaping at the anticipation alone. "I... I wanted to leave those there... because I wanted others to know... Know that I'm the only one who gets to see you like this... who gets to be pampered like this... who... who..." His brain skipped a bit and he shuddered out a moan when white-hot flashes of pleasure washed over his nerves at the thought of what he would say next settled in.

"... Please don't be too gentle with me... I... I want all of you, Y/N... I've waited so long for this... to t-take you in like this... I, um... I've practiced a little for you... W-well a lot for you... I want to make you happy... in every single way... I want to be the only one wh-who can meet those needs... Okay?"

Leviathan was so wholly devoted to you, to your desires, and in a rush of courage brought on by all the positive reinforcement you had been giving he laid it all bare for you to take in. Despite letting you take the lead and be the one to dominate, you felt as though he was still actively feeding your own passion with the way he breathlessly uttered his affections for you from a chest gripped wholly by undying love.

You spared no time removing those layers of clothes from his body as you kept him pinned to the wall, your fingers deftly working to ease his entrance and prepare him. Your own dripping length was freed only when he was ready, and he squirmed and cried out in undiluted ecstasy when he finally got to feel you filling him up. The Avatar of Envy was so sensitive, so easy to react, you had to be careful not to overload him in the heat of the moment, but as soon as you started getting a rhythm going with your hips, a curious detail caught your eye.

As you fucked him there on that wall, his eyes were fixed upon the marks he left on your throat — as though he were admiring them, how they painted your pretty skin a bluish-red, how they announced so loud and proud who you chose to get so intimate with. He had even coiled his tail around your waist a couple times over, as if denying the chance to make any distance — he did not want you to stop, not for anything in the world.

"Y/N... Y/N..." Your name was a mantra on his tongue, spoken so sweetly, so desperately. Interlaced between each instance of your name was confessions of love, though mostly inaudible from how he mewled and moaned and cried out with each movement you made.

It did not take long at all for him to reach his climax, thick ropes of cum painting your shirt as his tail squeezed you gently and his body jerked and tensed from the sheer force of the release sending waves across his body. Yet he wouldn't let you stop, riding that climax through his tears and drooling just to see you to yours — only then did he slow down, mouth hung agape with a smile at the corners of his lips, eyes barely able to stay open.

"Thanks..." he exhaled after he was able to catch his breath, his voice so light and full of joy. He saw the confused look on your face and after a moment of processing it, realized he needed to continue. "F-for choosing me. For letting me be the one to experience this... It makes me so happy..."

The demon's arms would be thrown around your neck after he said that, his head lowered to nestle up against the marks he had left previously. It was so hard to believe that his little tactic worked, and that he had even gotten to enjoy the highs of personal intimacy with you for it too.

"Don't go doing this with anyone else, okay? Just... Just me. I don't want anyone else being able to see how beautiful you are covered in sweat like this..." After he mewled his reminder out on airy breaths, you felt him squirm on you a bit, still excited for more — still so pent up and ready for more. It was cute, you mused with a smile.

It was typical for Leviathan to go hours without messaging anyone, but when people caught on that you and him both had gone radio silent ever since you got back to the House of Lamentation earlier than everyone else, they couldn't help but wonder if you had stolen Levi away — though Asmodeus couldn't stop giggling to himself when he caught a very familiar scent wafting off of you both later.

And there we are! I hope I did your request justice dear anon; I got very, very excited to write this, so I made it a lot longer than I should have. Oops! But I hope I captured the essence of a soft but still possessive/obsessive Levi for you!

And to all who were waiting so patiently, hello! I'm back, so sorry for the wait!! 💖

#obey me leviathan #obey me leviathan smut #obey me levi x mc #obey me levi smut #obey me levi x reader #obey me levi x male mc

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lulutaylorsimaginarium · 9 months

Text

The Chain

Summary: When the guys get stuck in a situation and hunted down by a drug lord. Frankie makes a call he really doesn’t want to make to the only person that can help them

Words: 1,456

Warnings: “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the right age to handle mature themes. We handle our own triggers with kindness and grace

AN: Mind any grammar mistakes even though the story has been checked. The author is dyslexic and it is the wonders of her brain.

THE CHAIN MASTERLIST

Part Twelve

Gabby woke up at three o'clock in the morning dazed and a little too out of it. She looked to the end of her bed to see a foot resting on the mattress. It took a few seconds for her brain to catch up and confirm that it was indeed someone’s leg. She looked to her left to see Santiago sleeping in a tub chair that he dragged from the corner of the room.

She squeezed his leg “Pope?”

“Mmm”

“What are you doing?”

“You were sleepwalking. Didn’t want you to fall down the stairs”

“So you’re watching me sleep?”

“From behind my eyelids, sure”

Gabby chuckled and pulled at his arm, pulling him on to the bed

“Get up here”

“Yeah?”

“We’re both adults” she whispered as he got under the covered and got comfortable “Better then the chair?”

“Oh yeah”

“How long have you been here anyhow?”

He sat up and looked over at the alarm clock over on her side of the bed.

“About two hours”

“Duddddeeee, that’s creepy” she laughed before he looked down at her and they both realized how close they were. Even in a dark room with only the moonlight streaming through the windows Santiago could see her batting her eyelids and holding her breath.

“Don’t call me dude” he chuckled “Creepy or caring?”

“Bit of both”

“Yet you let me into your bed”

“Believe or not. You are not the worst person who’s been in here”

“I’d believe it” he chuckled “You seem like the bring-the-stray-home-and-fall-in-love-with-it type”

“That’s actually scary accurate”

“Good night Ms Gabby”

“Good morning”

She heard him mutter ‘smartass’ under his breath before she fell back to sleep.

Gabby woke up hotter than she did normally, especially since it was raining outside. She groaned softly and squeezed her eyes shut tight before giving up and gave into the idea of waking up. She was sleeping on Santiago’s shoulder with her hand over his heart. She felt him scratch her head slowly, playfully. Gabby looked up at him.

“How long have you been up?”

“A little while”

She moved up the bed but not quite off Santiago, he noticed. Boy, did he notice. Just like he noticed the smell of her body wash, her shampoo, her weight on his and the way her voice was raspier in the morning. He had never been more awake in all his life.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You’re dead on your feet, Kid”

“I’m okay. I promise”

“You have to sleep today”

“No, I have to cook you guys breakfast and I have to double check that the storm shelter is waterproof because if that money gets wet. We’re fucked. Then I have to think about dinner. Then….”

He cut her off by kissing her quickly. Gabby gasped surprised as he rolled her on her back not breaking that kiss for a second.

All the times he had thought about kissing her. Santiago imagined it would have been a tug of war. A fight for domination. They fought about everything else, why would this be any different?

But it was different.

Maybe it was because she was tired. Maybe it was because it was the morning but she gave him total control and he took it.

Days, weeks, even years of fighting one another. Annoying one another and this was what it came down too.

He felt her hands on his back before either of them realized he had put both her hands over her head and that’s the way they stayed for god knew how long and that’s the way that she thought they would stay until he stopped and rested his forehead on hers before pulling back slightly before attacking her neck

“I can’t do this worrying about the knuckleheads hearing us downstairs”

“I’m really not that loud”

Santiago looked up at her and playfully raised his eyebrow

“That sounds like a challenge”

“Take it any way you want but its true”

He kissed her throat one last time before moving beside her “Raincheck”

“That’s what they all say” she teased before getting out from the covers and making her way around the room.

“Trust me, I mean it”

She changed her top to a cotton razorback and pulled her unbrushed hair into a messy bun before looking back at him in the mirror

“What?”

“Just enjoying the view”

She pulled an old pair of jeans on before jumping up and down to get them up over her butt and zipping them up.

“Take a picture why don’t cha” she said throwing a sock at him. Only because that was the only thing she could grab to throw at him

“Don’t need too. Memory of an elephant”

He watched her spray perfume into the air and twirled around in it over dramatically just because he was watching. Gabby reached for the door handle before looking back at him

“Get out of my bed”

“Make me”

“Do you need a few minutes?” she teased “Do you need some unsexy thoughts?”

“That would be great”

“You’re grandparents fucking”

“Ugh”

He listened to her laugh down the hallway.

As she made her way down the stairs she found Frankie and Benny in her kitchen.

“What are you guys doing?”

“HEY!!!” the both yelled back

Frankie met her at the foot of the stairs with a hot cup of coffee and a cuddle.

“We’re cooking you breakfast” Benny called out happily “Or we’re trying too”

“We’ll clean when we’re done” Frankie whispered to her when she saw the state of the kitchen

“Thank you” she whispered back

“Go sit at the table”

She sat on the side facing the kitchen because there was nothing like breakfast and a show. She sat with her knees to her chest smirking over her coffee cup watching the muppet show.

Santiago made his way down the stairs a short time later and didn’t get the same treatment as she had. He had to get his own coffee.

“What’s happening ladies?”

“You wanna help out, jack ass?” Benny shot back

“Sure. I’ve worked up an appetite”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head to herself. Two of the guys didn’t understand why, but one did.

Frankie sat on the porch with his coat buttoned up and collar popped. He watched as Santiago and Gabby ran out of the storm shelter and back to the house. There had been a feel in the place today that hadn’t been there the day before. He had his suspicions but it wasn’t until this moment that he knew it was true.

Gabby went straight into the house and Santiago stayed when he saw the look on Frankie’s face

“What?”

“You two slept together”

“No, Frank we didn’t”

“Bullshit. I heard you go into her room last night. I heard you walking around”

“She’s been sleepwalking”

Frankie sat forward in his seat with his hand balled up resting on his forehead

“Since when?”

“As far as I know. Guyana”

“God damn it, Pope”

“She made me promise not to say anything”

“Since when do you two keep each others secrets?”

As if she knew they were talking about her, Gabby appeared on the porch. She looked at Frankie confused

“What?”

“You’ve been sleeping walking?”

She looked over at Santiago wide eyed “Duuuuuudddde”

“Don’t call me dude”

“Gabriella, answer me”

“Did you just use your dad voice on me?”

“Gabby!!”

“Ugh” she sighed “It’s not a big deal”

“Don’t give me that shit. I was there the last time this happened, Gabby”

“Baby” she said softly, which oddly sparked a fire in Santiago that had never been there before the countless times he had heard Gabby call Frankie that.

“How long?”

“The farm, I think”

“Was it the club? The cop? What?”

“Frank, you have to calm down” Santiago told him

“You’re regressing. I knew I shouldn’t called you”

“Baby, I’m not regressing. I’m stressed. We’ve all been running on adrenaline and hope for days now. I’ve been in an office for so long that my body doesn’t know how to deal with it anymore. A few days of down time here and some actual sleep. I’ll be back to my annoying self. Okay?”

“Gabby”

“Trust me, Frankie. I’m okay” she chuckled not quite believing it but needing him too.

Frankie nodded his head, gave her a hug and walked back inside. Santiago sidled up to Gabby wrapping his arm around her waist

“You know what is a good stress relief?”

“I have an idea, yes”

“For your health and all”

“Storm shelter?”

“Yep”

They both took off down the stairs and across the grass before making sure the shelter door was locked once they were inside.

#frankie morales #romanticism #santiago garcia #triple frontier #will miller #benny miller #netflix #santiago garcia x oc #ben miller #charlie hunnam #garrett hedlund #oscar isaac #pedro pascal

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