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#at the time of writing his costs HAVE at least been covered but like. it took a lawsuit.
aeide-thea · 1 year
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delulujuls · 3 months
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his eyes | mv33
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hi! you asked about part two for the mad dutchman and the fearless dutchess so i delivered (its still hot, fresh from the oven). i'm not sure if i like it but don't worry, for sure i will write something about the mad dutch duo in the future. but now enjoy this one!
summary: eyes can say a lot so where it comes to reveal feelings there is no place to hide
warnings: none, mentions of car accident
pairing: fem!redbulldriver x max verstappen
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Max's eyes were beautiful.
They were always beautiful when they had small wrinkles around them caused by smiling. Always then, they were the color of a cloudless sky on a warm july morning. They were beautiful even when there was a storm raging inside. They were dark and agitated then, but still beautiful. But they were beautiful in a terrifying way, because at that moment there was no trace of a smile on Max's face, and the only warmth was the rage burning in his veins.
Y/N could have sworn she had never met another pair of eyes like Max's, so whenever she could, she allowed herself to drown in them. Even during arguments, when they were shouting and calling each other names, his eyes were beautiful. However, they lost all their beauty when they were struck by fear.
When Max was scared, his eyes faded. The july sky was covered with clouds and the turbulent sea was shrouded in fog. Y/N stopped noticing the fear in Max's eyes when he managed to break free from his toxic father and their karting years ended, replaced by Formula 1.
However, on that day when she woke up in the ambulance, the first thing she encountered was the cloudy sky in his eyes. Max wasn't scared; he was terrified to the core. When, after a few seconds, his brain acknowledged that his friend was alive, he sighed with relief. The sky began to clear.
"I never thought I'd be so happy to see those deceitful eyes of yours."
Verstappen smiled, squeezing his friend's hand.
"What happened?"
She asked with difficulty. Her throat hurt terribly; the hot smoke and fumes had taken their toll.
"You had an accident and lost consciousness. We'll be at the hospital soon."
"Accident is an understatement," a paramedic interjected, removing her drip from the hanger "You did a Grosjean from Bahrain 2020."
Y/N blinked several times and it took her a moment to connect the dots. Judging by the man's comparison, her accident must have been truly unpleasant.
"How's the car?"
"Just needs a wipe."
She rolled her eyes at her friend's words, and a moment later, she coughed. Quickly, she put her oxygen mask back on.
"Don't worry about the car," Max said, still holding her hand. "The most important thing is that you're back with us."
"At what cost? At least, being unconscious spared me from looking at you."
She replied sarcastically, pulling the mask slightly away from her face. Max chuckled quietly at her words, relieved that she still had the strength to joke after everything. She returned his smile. She still didn't fully grasp what had happened or what she had been involved in, but the feeling inside her body told her it must have looked bad. The last time she saw fear in Max's eyes was years ago.
But something had changed after that. Since her accident, she noticed that Max's eyes looked at her differently. In a way she had never seen before, a way she couldn't compare to anything else. They looked at her with unimaginable gentleness and tenderness. They looked at her with love.
"You're damn stubborn, you know that?"
Max said when barely two weeks after the accident Y/N, using crutches, appeared in his garage. He didn't say it maliciously; he was just genuinely worried. He put down his water bottle and approached his friend, gently hugging her and pulling up a chair for her.
"I'm glad to see you too."
She replied, leaning her crutches against the chair and sitting on the workbench.
Max sighed and shook his head. Since the accident, Y/N had been a constant source of concern for him.
"What?" she asked, glancing at him, "I'm not getting into the car, don't worry."
"You should be resting."
"I am resting, see?" Y/N pointed to her makeshift seat, "More comfortable than a bed."
Max was about to reply, but he was called to take his place in the car. Friends exchanged glances one last time and as he left the garage, Y/N hopped off the bench and approached Christian's workstation, taking a seat next to him. He smiled at her and handed her headphones.
"Good to see you, Y/N."
"Some would prefer me not to be here."
She replied, glancing at the monitor. Christian smiled at the thought of Max, who was very concerned about his friend.
"He was really worried about you, like we all were."
"I guess I'm just not used to Verstappen seeing more than the tip of his own nose."
The man laughed at her words. She was absolutely right; Max's reputation could be unpredictable. However, lately, his behavior had changed noticeably, evident to everyone in the paddock.
When the training session ended, friends returned to the hotel. Max kept pace with Y/N, ready to catch her if she stumbled. Moving on crutches wasn't problematic for her, though.
"Don't look at me like I'm an eighty-year-old grandma."
She said, seeing his gaze as they reached her room and she plopped onto the bed with a heavy sigh.
"I'm not looking at you like that. We both know that you are slower than this only in a car."
Y/N grabbed a pillow and threw it at him and he laughed, effortlessly catching it. They looked at each other for a moment in silence, but Y/N lowered her gaze when she noticed his eyes doing it again. Looking at her in that way.
"Christian said you were worried" the girl said, after a moment gathering enough courage to look at him again, "Really?"
"I thought I was pulling a corpse out of that wreck. Of course I was worried."
She lowered her gaze again, focusing on her hands. Max squeezed the pillow in his hands and sat next to her.
"Thank you."
She said softly. Even though she had thanked him earlier, she knew that no amount of gratitude would match the level of his deed. She turned her head towards him and their gazes met again. He smiled.
"I knew you'd do the same. You've always got my back, no matter how angry you are with me."
Y/N snorted and nodded. Max was absolutely right. Although some time had passed since the accident, they hadn't had a chance to talk about it. Not about the accident itself, but about what changed between them. Because something definitely had changed.
"Can I ask you something?"
She spoke up, glancing at him. He nodded.
"Did what happened change anything between us?"
"What do you mean?"
Max tensed a bit. Although he didn't move an inch, after so many years spent together, you could pick up every detail.
"You're behaving differently toward me."
She explained. He looked at her attentively.
"You're more affectionate. I've never felt something like that from you before."
Max lowered his head and interlaced his fingers. He wasn't sure how to put into words what had been swirling in his head for some time and growing stronger with each passing day. So, he decided to go for honesty.
"When I was pulling you out of the car, I had no idea if you were alive. Riding in the ambulance, I wondered if I would ever be able to talk to you again and apologize for that senseless argument."
He took a deep breath and rubbed his face with his hands.
"When you woke up and looked at me, I thought I'd cry with happiness. That's when I realized how much you mean to me and how important you are."
Y/N stayed silent, trying to absorb all the words he had spoken. She could feel the emotions quickening her pulse, so she decided to lighten the mood a bit and probe whether they were on the same page.
"If you had kissed me, I probably would have woken up faster."
Max felt as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water on him. He blinked several times and looked at his friend. She just smiled slightly.
"Kissed?"
She nodded.
For a moment, Max struggled to open his mouth to say something, but to no avail. He was in too much shock.
"Are you setting me up now?"
"I'm not setting you up, Max."
"Yes, like if I had kissed you back then, you would have woken up faster. But only to punch me in the face."
She laughed and fell back on the pillows, pretending to be dead.
"You have to check it yourself."
Max wondered for a moment if she was joking, but he didn't have time for further contemplation. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward her. He leaned on his elbow next to her head and looked at her face. Her gaze and a faint smile indicated that it wasn't just a silly joke.
Without hesitation, Max lightly touched her cheek and kissed her. She smiled and hugged him around the neck, returning the kiss.
When they separated for a moment to catch their breath, the eyes of the two met again and Y/N once again allowed herself to drown in the boundless blue of his eyes. The turbulent sea was calm and the july, sunny sky was cloudless. Everything was fine.
Everything was just how it supposed to be.
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arabellasleopardcoat · 11 months
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Honesty (Daemon Targaryen × Reader)
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Summary: In which Prince Daemon seduces his unwilling Lady Wife.
Warnings: Smut. Dub Con/ Non Con. Oral sex (F receiving), P in V sex. Stark reader. Convenience Marriage. No use of Y/N.
A/N: First time writing for Daemon. Reader is the oldest sister of Cregan Stark and acts as his regent. Might write the full story one day. High valyrian from an online translator, not explaining it because I wanted the reader to not know the meaning.
The shift was white, silky, and oh so tiny. You stared at it with contempt. It had cost you a pretty penny, as had the cosmetics Lady Manderly had so eagerly pushed into your hands. Red tint, she had said, to paint your lips and enhance your natural attributes in other areas. The woman had even had the nerve to point at your breasts!
It was ridiculous, this whole thing. Had you been born a man, there would be no need for this nonsense. Had you not been born a Stark, it would still be happening, but perhaps in not such a brutal way. Or had you not been tempered by the cold, made so brazen to insult and oppose Otto Hightower, perhaps your punishment wouldn’t be marital rape.
Still. It was your duty, and you intended to perform it. It was the only way to keep Cregan, Rickon and Sara safe. And you would do it. Prince Daemon, your lord husband, as he insisted you called him, could surely get the deed done faster with the proper incentives.
You took off your gown, having been previously unlaced by your trusty maid. You put on the dreaded, lacy shift. The latest fashion in Dorne, you had been told. For how expensive it was, it certainly was made of little fabric. You glared at your reflection, watching how the long sleeves had a vertical cut that made them useless. Your skin broke out in goosebumps, as you wished you could add more wood to the fire.
Some rustling could be heard outside your room and you panicked. You were running out of time. The tint! Made of some berries, you hoped didn’t poison you. You quickly rubbed it on your lips and cheeks, trying to seem less like the terrified girl you were and more like an appealing sight. You sat down, primly, on the foot of the bed just in time for Daemon to enter the room.
“Wife.” He rumbled, coming to stand in front of you. Daemon had docked his furs and armor, his sword no longer rested at his side, just as your agreement dictated. He had come to you unarmed and barefooted, yet it didn’t make him cut a less intimidating figure in the least. His purple eyes looked at the tint with curiosity, and plucked it from your hands. “Getting ready for me? I’m touched.”
You glared at him, trying to hide how much nerves pooled in your stomach, how you were cold from fear, skin clammy and pale.
“If I must…” You shifted to your hands and knees, and lifted your shift, exposing your naked folds and arse. It was quite the vulnerable position, and heat started to spread almost immediately to your cheeks and neck. You hated the humiliation it brought you.
Daemon’s breath hitched. Clearly affected by the sight of your prone, soft body, on the bed. “What are you doing, zoklītsos?” His hand went to your exposed folds, finding you as dry as the sands of the dornish deserts. You nearly jolted at the touch, and only his hand on your hips kept you in place. It was not a good omen, you had gathered, from nights spent exploring your body before the cold and worries had turned you into the frigid ice queen the lords in the South accused you of being.
“Go ahead. Do it.” You closed your eyes, keeping them tightly shut, and braced yourself for the pain. Daemon tsked, his warm palm caressing your bottom.
“Hells, you have been deprived.” He pulled your shift down, covering you.
“I do not understand.” You frowned, looking at him over your shoulder, still on your hands and knees. “This is right, I know. I have seen animals do it.” Your tone was of absolute confidence, petulant, even. To you, it was one of the facts of life. The sky was blue, the sun rose in the west, and fucking was done on one’s hands and knees, with the man behind you. It cracked Daemon out. He snorted, hands still busy fixing your shift. It soon turned into a full-blown belly laugh, at your icy glare.
“Poor little wife, your previous lovers have done you wrong.” He palmed at your ass. You hated how the warmth of his palms made you shiver. Good gods, how was he so warm, barefoot as he was and in only a linen shirt? You wanted to kick at him, at the offense of your virtue, perhaps make an icy comment, but you were frozen in shame. “Unless…” Daemon’s hands moved to your stomach, urging you to get up on your knees. He pressed a kiss to your exposed nape when you did, as if rewarding you. Stubbornly, you tried to escape his grip, but he only hugged you tighter. “Oh, what a treat you are… The gift that keeps on giving, zoklītsos.”
“Shut up and get it over with.”
“Don’t be like that, little wife.” He kissed your jaw, tenderly, and when you moved your face away from him, Daemon adapted and started kissing a path down your exposed neck. “You wouldn’t like that, sweet innocent virgin you are. I would tear you apart, and that's no fun.”
“Oh, by the…” You muttered, exasperated. You tried telling yourself that the red of your cheeks was out of rage and not embarrassment. Used as you were at being the smartest one in the room, you deeply disliked how out of your depth you were here. It was not your fault, being uneducated on these matters. Orphaned when you were a lady just flowered, there had been no time for anything else but caring for your siblings. “Why must every woman you meet burn for you?”
“Because I am the blood of the dragon. Heat is in my veins.” He mouthed at your shoulder, this time. His kisses felt like a trail of fire down your body. It was… Waking feelings you didn’t wish to have. Nipples pebbling, hairs standing up, pleasant shivers and all. You breathed in and out, trying to control yourself. Daemon pushed the sleeve of your shift down. “My proper little wife. My ice queen. You will melt, in the end.” He kissed back up and towards your ear, whispering, cruelly. “They all do.”
Your breath hitched. A slip. The first of the night. You could feel Daemon’s smirk against your skin.
“Do you really want to find out how the fire in your veins meets the ice in mine?” You remarked, coldly. It was an attempt at projecting a bravery you did not feel. Bravado. Nothing more. And Daemon could tell.
“Fire can melt ice.” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss on your throat. With the way he held you, curling and uncurling around you, Daemon reminded you more of a snake than a dragon. You felt as if you were in the grip of a boa, constricting around you, robbing you from your air, leaving you breathless. It was wrong, being so excited at being the sole focus of such a predator. But heat was pooling between your legs, you were getting embarrassingly slick.
“Ice can put out a fire.” You warned, one of your hands going to his silver locks and tugging. You got exactly the opposite reaction of what you wanted. Daemon’s eyes closed, expression turning into a delightful mix of pleasure and pain.
“Only a fool would meet your ice head on.” He kissed your sternum. You remained as still as a sculpture. He tugged at the sleeves, until they gave. There went the dornish shift, ruined forever. You felt a distant rage at having wasted so much gold on it for him to rip it apart. Daemon drank the sight of your exposed chest eagerly, seemingly entranced. You tried covering yourself, but he grabbed at your wrists.
“I think not, Lady Wife.” Then, very tenderly, he pressed kisses to the top of your breasts. You whined, low in your throat. It felt good, and he had no right, no right at all, to get your body to betray you like this. “You see… A tiny flame, if constant, can begin…” Daemon kissed lower, encircling your areola, purple eyes gleaming with mischief. “To melt your ice.” And with that, he took your nipple into his mouth, making you let out a little scream. You squirmed, feeling more wetness gather between your thighs. If you wanted to keep your dignity, you had to get away from him. But Daemon’s grip wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard you tried.
“No… I… Husband… Please. Please.” You begged, shame so deep you were nearly in tears. How it was that easy for him to take you apart, you didn’t know. Despite your pleas, his tongue circled your nipple, his lips making nearly a vacuum around it. His hand came up to pinch at your other nipple, warning. “I don’t want this, please. Just… Just…” But whatever you were saying got lost into your moans, until you were unable to know if you were asking him to stop the sweet torture or give you more of it.
When your tears started to fall in earnest, Daemon let go of your breast with a nearly obscene slurp.
“What is it, zoklītsos? You don’t want the attention of your Prince?” You nodded, and he gave you a mocking little coo. It almost made you think he would stop. Almost. If not for his hands, bunching up your shift until you were exposed once again. Under the candlelight, your cunt glistened with how much wetness you had produced. You tried to close your legs, but he kneeled, forcefully keeping them apart with his torso.
“No. I doubt that's the problem.” Daemon rubbed a finger against your entrance, not putting it in, but just pressing. “I think my little ice queen is melting. A big puddle, she is turning into.”
“You think…” You got cut off by a moan. Daemon had found your pearl, and it seemed he knew exactly what to do with it. “Yourself so smart. Smug…” He pushed a finger inside you, making you yelp, and effectively unable to finish your sentence.
“If you still have coherent thoughts…” He pulled away from you, taking his shirt off. Your eyes immediately were pulled, as if by magnet, to his chest. He had a warrior’s body, muscles all functional. Deliciously broad shoulders, toned stomach with the slightest hint of definition, yet still slender in the way most Targaryens were. Closer to gods, indeed. He bent down, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your stomach, making you squirm.
“Lord Husband…” You warned, noticing how his kisses started to approach your privates.
“Lady Wife.” Daemon repeated, with a mocking tone. Then, he curiously pressed a finger against your button. This time, your hips bucked, and you were unable to quiet the moan that slipped from your parted lips. “Such a pretty cunt you have.”
“You don’t have to…”
“Oh, but where is the fun in that, zoklītsos?” He spread you apart, as if opening up the petals of a flower, gentle but so casual. “If I wanted a quick fuck, I would have taken one of your servants, or found myself a whore.” Daemon leaned down and licked a strip over your cunt. In your haste to muffle a scream, you brought one of your hands to your mouth and bit down on your palm until you tasted blood. It was the oddest feeling, a line of scorching hot electricity on your exposed sex. “I intend to enjoy you. As often as I can. That’s why I accepted marrying you.”
“I don’t… I….” You muttered, but you weren’t really opposing him anymore. It was impossible to think about anything apart from what he was doing, of how his heat and wanton ways were starting to warm your blood too. Daemon kept licking at you, making your hips twitch. He was entirely ignoring your pleas, apparently finding great pleasure in the way he took you apart.
You felt like you were burning up, as if something that had been long asleep in you had started to be awakened. Long hidden and forgotten desires that were making themselves known. You found yourself looking down, mesmerized by the sight of the blond shock of hair between your parted thighs and how it bobbed up and down with each eager lick he took. Your hand reached down, tangling in Daemon’s hair, and it was then, you got pulled over the edge.
Daemon would later say it had been the way he had groaned against your pearl, what had made your thighs quiver and tummy tense, an impossible amount of wetness dripping down your thighs. You would say, if asked, it had been the way his purple eyes met yours, mouth still busy at devouring your cunt and face twisted into the most smug and deviant expression you had ever seen. Whatever it was, it pleased him greatly.
“I knew you had it in you. You weren’t cold.” Daemon whispered against your skin, kissing a path towards your mouth. He was unhurried, dedicating lavish kisses to your hipbone, moving to mouth along your belly button, gnawing hungrily at your ribs. Under him, your body went lax and pliant, spent with the first climax you had experienced under his careful touches. “You just needed a dragon to warm you up.” He licked at the sweat collecting in the hollow of your throat, before finally pressing a kiss to your lips.
This time, you answered. You took his lower lip between yours, playfully. You could taste and smell yourself on him, and it was more alluring than what you had ever thought.
“Good.” He said, pulling back. He started to undo his breeches, and you felt panic grip at you some more. This was it. You had to fulfill your end of the deal with him, let him take you. As if he could feel your nerves, Daemon rubbed your thigh, affectionate. “Do not fret, zoklītsos. You will enjoy this, too.”
“It is meant to hurt.” You answered him, pouting. He tapped at your lower lip, gently.
“Put that away, before I have to bite it.” Daemon took out his cock and rubbed it up and down your folds, gathering the wetness. Despite your fears, a wave of desire overtook you. His fingers had felt good, so had his tongue. You wondered if this, too, could be pleasurable. Otherwise, there wouldn't be so many bastards being born in Westeros, right? But you were supposed to bleed. Bleeding was not pleasant, ever.
“I…” You grabbed at one of his hands, holding on for dear life. He may not have been your choice of husband, but he had vowed to protect you under his gods, standing in the sand and mixing your blood with him. Daemon took his valyrian vows seriously. You were desperate for any scraps of reassurance he was willing to give, even if in normal circumstances you would have rather died than be helped by him.
“It won’t hurt.” Daemon said, kissing your forehead. You looked up at him, eyes wide in fear. He squeezed your hand and lined himself up. You felt the tip of his cock nudge at your entrance, and wondered what it looked like. It felt blunt, and it was very warm. “I will do it on one thrust, like ripping a bandage off. You probably don’t have your maidenhead, with how fond you are of riding. And if you do, you are more than wet enough.”
“Lady Manderly said it hurt her, the first time.” You pouted again, and this time, he did good on his promise. He leaned down and kissed you, biting at your lower lip playfully.
“She has a fool for a husband.” Daemon muttered, kissing your ear. You shivered, nearly mewling. You weren’t aware of how sensitive you were there. “Trust me on this. I know more about it.”
“Taken many maidenheads?” You remarked, with a hint of a teasing smile on your lips.
“Jealous, ice queen?” Daemon licked a strip down the base of your neck towards your jaw. “You will have to admit you know little of the topic.”
“I would say I know plenty.” You answered, glowering, just as he thrust inside of you, seemingly tired of the conversation. At the sudden feeling of fullness, you yelped. But there was no pain, as he had promised. Only an odd feeling of being stretched and filled to the brim, and a slight discomfort. “Rude.”
Daemon smirked. He stayed still, letting you time to adjust. You took a deep breath, and shifted to rest your weight on your elbows, to take a curious look at where you were joined. To your disappointment, you could only see a cloud of light hair, mixing with yours, hips impossibly close.
“Did it hurt?” Daemon flicked at your pearl, absent-mindedly. He groaned when that made your walls tighten around him.
You glared.
“No.”
“You silly girl.” He laughed, starting to thrust. The friction felt good immediately, and you moaned, grabbing at his shoulders. “And you thought fucking could only be done on your hands and knees.”
You didn’t answer, choosing instead to cling to him, mouth falling open in moans you were unable to keep quiet anymore.
“Fucking is a pleasure.” Daemon insisted, pinching at one of your nipples, You whined. He could be telling you the secrets of the realm, and you wouldn’t care. “And I will teach you all about it.” He grunted in your ear.
You were too gone to care about his smugness. Your heels dug into his back, pulling him closer and closer. You met him thrust by thrust, scratching at his back until your nails were bloody. Daemon kissed you and tugged at your hair, desperate to claim you. You could hear his silent laughter, feel his mocking smile against your skin. He had finally gotten what he wanted, a reaction out of you. It could not be faked, this pure, raw emotion. Soon, his fingers found their way to your button, making you whine and squirm. It was too much for your poor, abused body. You screamed his name as you reached your second peak of the night.
Daemon thrust several more times, practically vibrating with smugness. He grabbed at your body, fingers digging in the flesh, surely bruising your hips. His mouth was slightly parted, and something stirred in you at seeing him so raw. Daemon had been right, you realized. Many moons before, he had said bodies spoke and were honest in ways their owners were not. And so, you let yours speak, tugging at his hair, sucking bruises in his pale neck. Perhaps there was something there, in the way he held you closer, shuddering and spilling himself with a muffled cry. Something that mere lust couldn't explain.
You both laid there, panting. Daemon looked down at you, and brushed your sweaty hair out of your face.
“I think, Lady Wife, that the coldness of the North might just be bearable.”
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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months
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Lewis Hamilton and George Russel - I'm with a Knight and Slenderman, No One Can Touch Me
It’s part 4 time! This was so fun to write and I laughed so hard at some parts. I feel like George is a really underrated driver. He’s funny and a good person (even though he looks like Woody from Toy Story). And the girlfriend effect has hit him hard. His hair is so beautiful and I need to know what he does with his bangs. 
And then Sir Lewis – good Lord, he needs to go back to that one hairstyle from that one interview that made everyone fall for him 
Specially dedicated to @treehouse-mouse <3
[TAG LIST IS CLOSED] 
Like always, comments, questions, concerns, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! Love you all &lt;;3 
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“Shit,” you muttered as you looked around the now empty paddock. You knew that taking a nap after your media duties had been done was a bad idea. You had played nap roulette with yourself and were now paying the consequences. You shouldn’t have said “oh, I won’t set an alarm. Someone will come get me. I might nap for ten minutes or it might be 3 hours. Who knows!” 
Well, now you knew. It was three hours. 
You looked around for your backpack that you had come with. But as your eyes danced around the garage, it was nowhere to be found. You sighed as you at least remembered your phone. But alas, the world hated you for being a woman: your phone was dead. 
“Ok, there’s no reason to panic. Let’s head to the parking lot and see if someone is still here,” you whispered to yourself. Walking carefully, you exited the dark paddock. The parking lot was no different. 
Dark, cold, and empty. 
“Great. Just great.” You decided to sit on a curb and wait. Maybe by now, Christian or Max would know that you are missing, and will come back to get you. 
Or maybe they were mad at you. Yes, you were on the podium. As a rookie. At your first race. 
But you made a mistake that costed the team a 1-2 finish. Maybe you didn’t deserve to be looked for. 
Before your thoughts could spiral more, two bright headlights blinded you. You raised a hand to try to cover at least some of your face. The two front doors of the car swung open. Your heart started to race. 
It was just you out here and they might be kidnappers. 
“Please I have no money on me. Don’t beat me up or kidnap me. Trust, you do not want to sell me or anything like that,” you spoke out, trying to hinder their unknown wants for you. Your fear slowly melted away at a familiar grandpa laugh and bean-pole build of the two figures. 
“Lewis! George!” You stood up quickly. 
“What are you doing out here?” George peered down. Your neck was bent to even look up at him. 
“Um. I might have been left behind because I was taking a nap. And my phone is also dead.” You sheepishly grinned at the two. 
Lewis sighed before bringing out his phone. “I don’t have Christian’s number, but Toto does. Let me give him a call.” 
Your head cocked. “Do you not have Max’s number?” George let out a laugh. 
“Kid. Think of Abu Dhabi 2021.” Your eyes widened. 
“Sorry.” 
Lewis waved you off and walked a bit aways to hear Toto. George just kind of stared at you as you stared at him. 
“Are you ok?” 
“Of course I’m ok. I’m with a knight,” you pointed at Lewis, “and Slenderman. No one can touch me.” You crossed your arms before giggling. George just gawked at your boldness. You took this time to look at the nice Mercedes in front of you. “Is this the new model?” 
George nodded. “Yeah, Lewis just got it. He won’t let me drive it though.” A pout formed on his lips. 
“I get what you mean. Max won’t let me drive his Ferrari.” 
“Why would you want to drive that junk?” 
Your head tilted. “I don’t know. I like my Porsches better though.” It was George’s time to raise an eye brow. “I haven’t gotten them yet. But they’ll be ready soon. I had to ship one to London and the other to Monaco.” 
“Ah.” 
You looked at Lewis, who was still on the phone. You had an idea. 
A very bad one, but an idea none-the-less. 
“You wanna go somewhere?” You pointed at the still running car. Lewis should have taken the keys. 
“Where would we go?” George was already grinning like the Cheshire cat. 
“There’s a burger king a couple of miles away.” 
George was already climbing into the driver’s side. “Let’s get going!”
Back with Lewis, he was still on the phone. For some reason, Toto would still not give him Christian’s number. 
“Please Toto, I am with two children,” he pinched his brow, “and I’m tired and I’d like to get back to the hotel. So please send me Max’s or Christian’s number.” He wasn’t aware of his car that was now filled with said two children making their getaway. He hung up once he got Max’s number. 
His phone rang for a few seconds before Max’s voice sounded over the background noise of a party. 
“Who is this?” 
“It’s Lewis. You left your kid here.” He heard Max curse on the other side. 
“I thought Vito was getting her, but Vito is right at the bar. Can you send me your location so I can pick her up?” 
Lewis waved a hand, even though Max couldn’t see it. “No worries, I can just drop her off. I’m with George and we’ll driver her over. I have my-” Lewis stopped.
“Lewis? Are you there?” 
Lewis’ eyes scanned the now empty parking lot. He groaned. “They took my car!” 
Max laughed for a bit before he realized that Lewis wasn’t playing. “Send my your location, I’m already out the door. We’ll find them.” 
By the time Max got to Lewis, you and George were already having the time of your lives. 
You pointed out the window. “Look Georgie. Traffic cones. Have you ever put one on your head?” 
When George denied that he had, you gasped and told him to pull over. You and him climbed out of the low car and walked over to the traffic cones. By now, your phone was a bit charged, courtesy of the charger in the vehicle. And it was blowing up. 
But you didn’t see it or care. 
You picked up one of the cones and put it on your head. Your giggle resonated through it. 
“Y/n, smile!” You heard George say. You smiled, even though it wouldn’t be seen under the orange hat. 
George told you that he was going to set up the camera to take a picture of the two of you. 
“Let’s put our heads together.” The two cones whacked against the other. George had to bend over so that they would be close.
You laughed as your hair was staticky due to the cone. George’s hair was the same, which made you laugh even harder. “Send that to me, I’m going to post in on the gram.” 
The only notification you looked at was the one from George with the picture. Quicky uploading it, you knew you were about to create even more chaos. 
The two of you decided to sit on the curb for a bit. Your thoughts from earlier quickly sprang into your head, due to the silence between you two. 
“George?” you questioned, looking ahead. He was currently scrolling through his phone, but he made a noise to let you know that he was listening. 
“What was it like having a teammate that you know you’ll never amount to? Not saying that you won’t amount to Lewis at some point, but,” you trailed off, not knowing how to continue. 
The click of his phone let you know that George was now focused on the conversation. 
“I get what you mean. It’s very overwhelming. You get put up with world champions, and people are already expecting you to beat records and perform as well as they do.” George sighed as he reflected on his first year with Mercedes. How the people would taunt that he wasn’t good enough to be Lewis’s teammate and that he should just be second fiddle to him. Suddenly, he noticed a hand had been placed on his shoulder. Tears also wetted his face. 
When had he started crying? 
You continued to rub his shoulder until his tears stopped. 
You tried to console him. “Well, we can be second-fiddle buddies together?” you offered, hoping he would laugh. And he did. 
The two of you decided to sit on the curb for a few more minutes. But at this point, you knew that Lewis along with Max were probably on their way to get you. You pulled yourself up, then held out a hand to George, who took it without second thought.  
Before you knew it, the two of you were back in the car, just chilling. 
“Look what Max and Lewis are saying.” You showed him the screen and laughed. It really was fun to mess with old men. 
“Are we still going to burger king?” 
You nodded your head. “If Lewis can be a knight, I need a crown to be the king.” 
“Don’t you mean queen?” he asked as he started the car back up again. 
“Nope.” You popped the P and that was a good enough answer. George pulled away from the side of the street and made his way to the Burger King. The two of you were thankful that it was mostly empty, except for the employees. The two of you ordered more than enough food for two people. You justified it as giving the workers more money. 
Your companion went along with it. 
“Order number 69,” the tired lady called out. George and you shared a look before the two of you collapsing on the ground, dying with laughter and probably exhaustion. You were still giggling as you took the food from the lady. You muttered a thank you before you and George took a table near the back. 
“Did you get your slushie?” you questioned, holding your cup. 
“I didn’t know they had slushies!” 
You took George’s hand and let him over to the machine. The amount of slushies that you slurped down would never be recorded. As you drank one of your last ones, you suddenly remembered an important detail. 
You looked over at the tired lady who took your order. “Do you have the crowns?”  
Max was still constantly trying to reach you, with one hand on the steering wheel and his phone in the other. 
“Come on kid. Pick up,” he pleaded and cursed when the call went to voicemail for the umpteenth time that night. 
Lewis was texting all the drivers in the group chat, asking if they’d seen the two of you. They came up short. 
“This is ridiculous,” Max seethed. “How could you have let them do this?” 
Lewis shot him a glare. “How could you leave her at the paddock after dark?” he bit back. 
“Like I said, Vito was supposed to take her back to the hotel. She’s not allowed in the clubs.” 
“Then Christian should find some way for everyone to party. The kid got a podium her first race as a rookie, and she was left behind.” 
Max banged his head on the steering wheel as they stopped at a red light. Lewis was correct. He wondered if you felt forgotten. Knowing you, you probably did. And it was mostly his fault. He’d talk to Christian about alternatives until you turned legal age.
“I’ll talk to Christian about that. What were you and George doing back at the paddock anyway?” 
Lewis grimaced. “I forgot a file back at our garage. George seemed antsy and restless so I invited him. Never doing that again.” 
Max smirked, “Kids. Am I right?”  
“Look!” Lewis pointed at a familiar car in the parking lot of an empty Burger King. Max pulled in on two wheels. As they walked up, their eyes landed on two people, crowns on their heads, hands flailing. 
Max pushed the door open and stopped towards the figures. His hands landed aggressively on the table. “Do you two know how much trouble you’re in.” 
He heard laughing from behind him. 
“Max. That’s not them,” Lewis whispered. 
Max’s head jerked and saw the scared faces of two employees. He heard more laughing and whipped his head around, eyes finally falling on you and George, whose phone was out recording. You looked as if you were about to explode with laughter. 
“I’m sorry about that.” He turned around and stomped towards your table. “Let’s try this again.” 
His palms hit the correct table this time. “Do the two of you know how much trouble you are in?” He looked into your eyes before glancing at George. 
You stared up at the seething Dutchman. You pulled out a french fry.  
“Fry?” 
“Lewis, I got you an impossible whopper.” George held out the wrapped food. 
Max sighed, anger waning by the minute. There was no fighting with the two of you. The two adult-figures sat down and started to eat. Max munched on a fry as Lewis started to eat the burger. 
You and George continued to talk about your so-called adventures. 
“And then George ran a red light.” 
Lewis choked as George winced. Lewis’s head jerked toward George, eyes squinting. 
“You’re paying for that.” George only shrugged, he had enough money anyway. 
Max just stared in silence, mulling over the exhausting night. You could sense that he was still cooling off, and you were scared of what he might say in the car. 
The food was quickly finished and the four of you were headed out the door. It seemed as though yours and George’s energy levels were quickly tanking as the two of you barely said a goodbye. The hug and faux tears though were enough for Lewis and Max to roll their eyes. 
You watched as George and Lewis left in the Mercedes. You gulped as you got into the passenger side of Max’s rental vehicle. You winced at the proximity. 
You mind quickly went back to your dad. How he’d hit the side of your face if you did anything that was “out of line.” Or he’d pinch your thigh until it bruised. Those were the easiest to hide. When your face was a little too red and purple, your helmet stayed on for the entire race day. 
Your eyes welled with tears at the thought of Max turning out to be like him. You didn’t think he would, but you were out of line tonight. 
No fun. No sneaking out. No stealing (borrowing) cars. 
You were sinking into yourself, and Max could sense that. 
He turned to look at you. What he said next was shocking. 
“I’m sorry kid.” 
Your eyes bulged. “Why are you sorry? If anything, I should be on my knees begging for your forgiveness.” 
Max just stared at you before slowly putting his hand near your head. 
This was it. He was going to hit you and you’d have to live through everything again. You couldn’t tell Christian that his golden-child would do such a thing. And no one would ever believe you. 
You jerked back as your eyes closed tight. Your body tensed, waiting for the repercussion to your actions. Your breaths got a little bit faster and shorter.   
But it never came. 
All that was, was a gentle placed hand on the top of your head. 
Comforting. Loving. Cherishing. 
Max wanted to cry as he saw how your body prepared for something horrible. Something nasty. 
“Kleintje,” Max breathed out. 
Your tears began to make their escape down the hills of your cheeks. You could only repeat and whisper I’m sorry, over and over again. Max couldn’t do anything but wait for you to calm down and maybe tell him what was racing through your head. 
Your breathing evened out as you felt there was nothing coming. Soon you were embarrassed for thinking that Max, one of the only people to seem to care about you, would do such a thing. Yet, your mind always went back to your patterns.
People who should care, didn’t. Hands that were made for comforting, didn’t. Encouragements didn’t exist…for you. 
Maybe you were the problem. 
But, maybe you weren’t. You’d allow some comfort, just this once. 
Max cooed as you leaned into his hand. He knew you were tired. A long day of racing and a long night of adventures would really do that to you.  
He didn’t expect you to explain to so quickly. But you knew how to surprise someone. 
“My dad and mom, weren’t the nicest. They wanted a boy, got me instead.” You harshly exhaled. “They put me in karting because if they had had a boy, they would have done the same. I was just a placeholder.”
Max listened, wanting to hear what you said. 
“It started off small. A push here, a hit to the helmet there. I really didn’t think anything of it. Until I was about 7 and I crashed my kart on the last lap. I was going to win too, but I over compensated and hit the wall. All I remember after that race was my dad grabbing my wrist and yanking me to the car. I hit my head on the dash, I think. Or he was the one to push my head in.” You shrugged at the nasty memory, as if it didn’t matter. 
Max on the other hand, was getting angrier. Yes, his dad did similar things, but he was a boy. He could stand up for himself. And he had his mom and sister. 
You had no one. 
“The next morning, I woke up and there was this giant bruise on my face and smaller ones littered my arms. I thought that was the end of it, except it continued. I was able to hide it pretty well. My race suit pretty much covered everything. I also didn’t have many friends, or, I just didn’t have friends. So there, wasn’t a need to worry. They stopped after I made it to the end of F4, because I was winning and there were more cameras. The moment I made it to F3 in 2019, they disowned me.” 
He did the math. You would have been 16 at the time. Still a kid, but smaller. His heart broke for you. 
“Kid, look at me.” 
You turned your head and made eye contact. Your brows furrowed when you saw tears in his eyes. 
He wasn’t supposed to cry. Why was he crying? 
“I’m crying because no one should ever have to go through something like that.” Oh, you must have said that out loud.
You shrugged once again, “I probably deserved it.” 
“No, geitje, no one deserves that. Ever. You didn’t.” You could only nod along. Your eyes were getting tired by the minute. Max could tell so he started the car. He only had one more thing to say. (translation : kid) 
“My dad did similar things. But I had people to help me. And I know your dad isn’t around, but Y/n,” he said your name, trying to emphasize that he was serious. “I am here for you. Christian is here for you. Mitch is here and so is Vito. We love you. I’m not a good teammate, and you can see that I’ve gone through more teammates than anyone else has in the amount of time I’ve been here. I’m the only constant. But I think that we will actually work out. Best duo right?” 
For the first time since Burger King, where you and him were still parked, he saw your eyes light up. 
You nodded, “Best duo.” 
Max finally took that as a sign that you’d be ok for the night. He carefully back the car out and started on the road toward the hotel. 
“Do you think Christian will let me come to the club next race.” 
Max let out a sarcastic laugh. “Definitely not.” 
Your giggles filled the small space. Max’s heart swelled at making you laugh. 
You’d be all right. He’d make sure of it. 
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AN: oh my gosh that got REAL depressing – I apologize. But, Max needed to know a bit more about your lore if he’s going to be able to fend off any unwanted visitors (FORESHADOWING). Anyway, I will see you all at the next chapter! Muah! Much love <3 – author :D 
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bbsmuts · 16 days
Text
Summer Getaway ft. EVERGLOW Yiren
A/N: This is a pitch I got from a friend outside of Tumblr, and it took me a long time to write since I’ve been working and planning the wedding, sorry about that. I have no doubt that this will become second-to if not more popular than Field Trip. I don’t have a lot to say about it so as not to spoil anything, so here we go. 
-상훈
Length: 7.5k
Possible TW: Spanking, choking, domination, dom/sub kink
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It had been a long senior year at Hanyang University. Very, very long.
With a major in psychology, a minor in health studies, and a hopeless career path, classes had been hard. I hadn’t even had my best friend, Yiren, in classes with me.
Yiren and I were more than friends. We had been dating for a little more than nine months, but she was still my best friend. She was not only exactly the type of girl I was interested in, but the exact type of friend I wanted to keep close. It had been with great disappointment that I had found out that my girlfriend would not be in classes with me at the beginning of the year. She would have been the only way psychology would be in any way interesting. 
But now the year was over. A buddy of mine had offered me and Yiren his mountain cabin for the summer. He wasn’t going to be using it, he and his family were on vacation, so he would be touring Europe with his parents and sister.
The cabin, we found out when we arrived there, was a palatial, stone brick château with three stories and a balcony on the second. The balcony overhung the door, two large stone pillars supporting the structure. It had an very antiquated feel to it, though the sound structure still held up. My friend had told me it was over 200 years old, which I believed from the look of it. Whether it was 2 years old or 2000 though, I was happy to be here.
“It looks nice, doesn’t it oppa?” Yiren asked, arms wrapped around my arm, as we stood there and surveyed the cabin.
“Yeah, it does. Old, but very nice.”
“Three stories…wow.” She marveled at the sheer height of the place. “That's more than my house has. Come on, let's go inside.”
I slid the key into the lock and turned it, opening the door to reveal the interior. 
It gave a very cozy, log-cabin-ish vibe. The blinds were shut, allowing very little daylight in. The lamps had turned on the moment we entered, dimming slightly once we shut the door. Plush rugs covered just about every square inch of the vast living room, where soft chintz armchairs and smooth leather couches sat, pillows arranged invitingly. The fireplace could have allowed three grown men ample sitting space, and the overhanging limestone mantle was decorated with ornate wood carvings. Mounted on the wall just above the mantle was the biggest TV I had ever seen, at least 85 inches across. 
To the left of the fireplace was a bathroom, through the open door of which I caught a glimpse of a gold-rimmed mirror.
The rather titanic kitchen was a chef’s dream; the walls were bedecked with cabinets, drawers, and shelves full of cooking equipment. Two large ovens with stovetops sat alongside a dishwasher, and on top of its counter were a couple of microwave ovens. A kettle, coffee maker, waffle iron, iron griddle, and a shelf of teas, coffees, hot chocolates and various other drink mixes sat along another. Four more long shelves along the opposite wall held just about every kind of alcohol I could have asked for; bottles of whiskey, vodka, rum, gin, various liqueurs (fruit flavors like coconut and orange), tequila, port, Hennessy, and margarita sat assorted on them. Another, smaller shelf held cooking sherry, brandy, and bourbon. A wine rack nearby held several bottles and, I was surprised to see, one bottle each of Petrus 2012 (costs about $30k in real life), Armand Rousseau Chambertin Grand Cru ($19k), Versos Amontillado ($13k) and Vieux Chateau Certan Pomerol ($6k, and all of these are ones I’ve had in real life).
“Wow,” I said, taking out the Petrus and examining it. “I guess his family is rich.”
“What makes you say that?” Yiren asked while looking at the coconut liqueur. 
“The fact that they have a bottle of wine in here that costs about thirty thousand dollars, and a few other expensive ones.”
“Huh, make sense.”
After looking into the pantry, which was the size of a walk-in closet and had enough food to feed a small town, we made our way to the staircase to upstairs. Six bedrooms took up this floor. We went straight to the master, which was as large as a neighborhood cul-de-sac.
The bed’s size could be compared to that of a midieval portcullis, with a deluxe king size mattress and nightstands on either side. A few dozen pillows were laid delicately across it, each with its own gold-laced pillowcase. An intricately carved wooden frame with a canopy structure and drapes held up the mattress. A pair of French doors were built in on the opposite wall from the door, which led out to the balcony, which spanned about twenty feet. Gorgeous scenery was what I laid my eyes on when I looked through the doors, a great view of the surrounding mountains and forest. The bathroom was off to the left from the entrance and Yiren made a beeline for it the moment we entered the room.
I followed her inside and was stunned. The same gold-framed mirror stretched across the wall, with three sinks and a vanity under it. White LEDs rimmed it, lighting up the bathroom when Yiren walked in. 
“Oooh!” She squealed, looking around excitedly. I knew well by this point that the bathroom was her favorite and most valued part of a house, so it was always what she looked at with the most judgement. But she found nothing to criticize about this one, and looked very pleased to have access to it for the next two months.
“Like it?” I inquired, amused at her expression. “I’d say it’s pretty impressive.”
“Tell your friend I love it!” She said, positively radiating joy and excitement. “This is amazing!”
She ran to me and hugged me, then went to look around again.
I took a look into one of the drawers below the mirror and saw a vast array of hair and skin care products, no wonder my friend had good skin and hair.
Beyond the mirror space, there was the tub, which she was already scrutinizing. It held the same old feel with the weathered stone slabs making up the rim, but the pristinely white jacuzzi tub looked like it had been crafted yesterday. Bordering the bathtub was a large glass shower, with a rainfall showerhead on the ceiling and a nozzle clipped to the wall just below it, with multiple different kinds of shampoo, body wash, shower gel, and conditioner. A closet was off to the left of the door into the room, and after appraising the tub and shower we made our way to it. It was as big as the kitchen downstairs, and that was saying something. Multiple racks full of clothes were set into their pole grooves, and several racks of shoes rested on the floor. They weren’t ours, so we didn’t mess with them.
The floor above that was just one enormous game room. Pool, air hockey, foosball, mini golf, and several others were strewn around. A walled-off area seemed to be designated to archery and airsoft target practice, something I approved of. Another bathroom was at the far end, something I didn’t need to explore again. After looking around for a bit, we went back to my car to unload our baggage.
The cabin was about ten miles from any kind of civilization, which made for a nice and secluded area for a summer getaway, but it would be a bit of a pain in the ass driving back and forth through the unpaved roadway to the nearest town. But we had brought food, and there was food in the house, so we were fine for the time being.
“Oppa?”
I heard Yiren’s voice call from upstairs a while later.
“Yeah?” I called back.
“Are you up for a hike? I hear they have great trails up here.”
“Sure, I’m down.”
I got up off the couch and went up there to see her.
“You did bring the hiking boots, didn’t you?” She asked, seeing me upstairs.
“Yes, of course. We can’t go to a mountain lodge without hiking boots.”
“True. Hold on for a minute, I have to change.”
She disappeared into the master bedroom and the sounds of rustling clothes could be heard from inside. I leaned my head over a bit to see past the doorway and found her raised eyebrows staring back at me while she slipped off her jeans, taking her panties with them.
“Peeping, oppa?” Her playful voice sounded as she turned away to her bag, and I would have challenged a Buckingham Palace guard not to look as she bent over slightly to retrieve her leggings.
I walked slowly into the room where she was rummaging in her suitcase and stopped behind her as she straightened up, leggings in hand, and placed my hands on her waist. She leaned backwards into my touch and sighed as I stroked her hips. 
“Oppa, don’t tease me…”
I paid this no attention and moved my hands lower, sliding my palms over her naked thighs. 
“Stop it, we’re going to hike, wait until later.”
Reluctantly, I paid her some heed and went to the dresser to get my bag and keys while she got dressed. And thus, a few short minutes of driving later, we arrived at the entrance to the trail.
The trail was nice and peaceful, with flat paths and beautiful scenery. It was rather tranquil, with the occasional squirrel or chipmunk darting across the rocky path in front of us. But of course, Yiren couldn’t let me enjoy the little things like that, she had to wear something skintight on both halves, and had to walk in front of me, which distracted me from any of the scenery.
So it was with slightly exerted legs and a straining bulge that I completed the trail, a fact Yiren was perfectly aware of. 
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Mind almost numb with lust by the time we got back into the care due to her deliberately dropping her phone and bending over to pick it up, I started the engine of my car and drove away toward the cabin.
I was again surprised by its immense size even though I had seen it an hour previously. We walked to the door, unlocked and opened it, and that was as much time as Yiren needed to latch onto me the moment I closed the door.
I turned around from the door and she was instantly there, wrapping her arms around my head and pulling me into a deep kiss. A moan sounded from her as my tongue sought entrance into her mouth, and I pulled her by the hips closer, so she could feel the bulge in my jeans. She started grinding herself against it, still kissing me with intense passion. 
I half-carried her up the stairs to the bedroom and set her down on the mattress, where she laid on her back with her legs spread enticingly, eyes glittering with lust.
After shutting the drapes around the bed, I removed my shirt and saw her bite her lip at the sight of me shirtless, a fact I took heed of and tossed my shirt elsewhere, settling my hips between her thighs. I made sure she could acutely feel the tent in my pants against her, and she definitely did feel it.
Her breaths became shorter and more frequent, a sure sign of growing neediness. Her hips started moving of their own accord, grinding up against me. I felt this and got off her.
I hooked my thumbs under the waistbands of my jeans and boxers and pulled them off, finally freeing my cock from its denim prison, while she quickly removed her own clothes in my peripheral vision. She looked at me once I straightened up, bit her lip again, and her hand sneaked along her waist towards her pussy.
I was amazed for the millionth time by the fact that she had a body like a Greek goddess. To verbally describe the intensity of the lust her body induced would have been impossible.
I stepped forward and grabbed her hand, tearing it away from her leaking pussy, replacing the fingers with my tongue.
Her reaction was immediate. Her hands shot to my head and pulled, and she gave a short cry every time my tongue penetrated her. I targeted the spots I knew would pleasure her the most.
“Yes, fuck!” Her mouth was wide open and she was taking shallow breaths, giving short moans and gasps on the exhale. “Yes, don’t stop oppa it feels so good!”
I pressed by thumb to her clit while I continued the circular swiping motion with my tongue, which was quite effective to say the least. Her cries became sharper, her breaths more shallow, all building up to her climax. 
“I’m gonna cum oppa, keep going, I’m cumming! AHH!” 
How turned on I was could not have been described in words as her juices gushed out, into my mouth, and over my face. Her hands trembled as they clutched at my hair, and she had a small out-of-body experience as the pleasure of a second orgasm briefly took her to another realm of consciousness. I was in heaven right along with her, nothing was more satisfying that pleasuring her to an orgasm. 
When she came back to earth I had gotten up, dried my face, and laid down on the bed beside her. The section of sheet under her lower half was soaked, as were her thighs and pussy. Her eyes were unfocused and dreamy, her chest heaved while her extremities still trembled. 
“Oppa…”
She had turned her head towards me and I could almost see the hearts in her eyes as she looked at me.
“That was…so good…”
She spoke each phrase between breaths. If she thought what I had just done effortlessly was good, she had yet to feel what would happen when I was pounding her and completely abandoning any restraint.
I turned myself towards her and put my arms around her, though the effect was kind of ruined by my stiff cock poking her in the thigh, which made her giggle. She turned over and maneuvered down between my legs, placing her hands on my thighs as she stared fixedly at my length like a lion looks at its dinner, and I could tell she was about to go to town.
“I’m really hungry oppa,” she purred deviously, each word laced with teasing, while her hands performed slow strokes over my length, “I think I need to be fed, hmm?”
I took the cue and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her lips down over my cock, and then everything else disappeared. Her lips parted and then slid smoothly over my shaft, a fresh coat of saliva washing over me. 
“Fuuuck,” I groaned, unable to contain the immediate pleasure that filled me. “Fuck Yiren, that feels amazing!”
Each bob of her head made its way closer to my base, and she got a little more than three quarters before she started gagging. She moaned, gasped, gagged, and choked, but she didn’t give herself a break, even for a moment. She was hungry, and I was the only thing that could sate her appetite. Hearing my moans, she upped her speed. Her tongue slid over the underside of my cock, stretching out to flick my balls, while she forced her own head further down on me. My entire length was lodged inside her mouth and throat, and I felt myself very quickly nearing a climax. 
“You’re going to make me cum,” I panted, getting even more turned on by her moans and  small ‘mmm’s of satisfaction. “I’m gonna fucking cum down your throat, keep doing that!”
She took heed of this and slid her head all the way down my cock once more and held there, and with an almighty groan and a bed-rattling thrust of my hips I buried myself in her throat and spurted my load down it, a fact she was very pleased with. She bobbed her head rapidly, throating my cock a final few times and swallowing every single drop. And she couldn’t resist holding her head down on my now hypersensitive rod for another few seconds, simply loving the feeling of having her throat penetrated.
I lost count of the seconds she held herself there, I wasn’t really paying attention. Twenty, thirty, forty, somewhere around forty-five I lost count, and then she pulled up, dislodging me from her mouth and gasping for some much-needed oxygen, though her face showed pure enjoyment.
She dragged herself up the bed and settled next to me, sighing contentedly.
“I love you oppa.”
I drew her closer under the thoroughly stained blanket with one arm, using the other to run my fingers through her hair. 
“I love you too, Yiren. Always.”
I could practically hear her purring as the warmth from my body emanated off me, and she snuggled in close, planting a small kiss on my jaw. I turned my head to receive and respond to her second kiss, and put my hand around her head.
Before I knew it, she was on top of me and we were kissing passionately, soft moans leaving her mouth as our tongues met. I found my cock returning to full life, and she most assuredly did, since her already-wet pussy was handily positioned right above it. 
I flipped her over and pressed myself down on her. My tip rubbed against her sensitive folds, causing her to give tiny sighs of pleasure.
And then I pushed into her tight warmth. The insane tightness of her walls squeezing every part of my shaft was making me see stars, and there was quite a lot of resistance as I determinedly pushed inside her. 
She moaned as I bottomed out inside her, my tip brushing spots inside her that I didn’t even know existed at that depth. 
“Fuck me oppa.”
That was my cue to begin my thrusts, quickly increasing the speed and intensity of them. I landed a slap on her jiggling ass and immediately her pussy clenched around me and she cried out. I timed my spanks with each thrust of my hips, and her various obscenities also fell in rhythm.
“Oh - god - fuck - yes!” She said, each word coming out in time with the spanks. “Feels - so - good - fuck!”
I took her ponytail in my hand and pulled back, forcing her face up, her moans becoming higher in pitch at my pulling. Her back bent up so she was almost kneeling as I fucked her, and with my other hand I paused the spanks and reached around to squeeze her breasts, only heightening her arousal. Her hands gripped the hand caressing her chest.
“Please oppa, fuck me harder,” Yiren half-whispered, which I knew to be a sign that she was nearing an orgasm. “Your cock is so deep in me, it feels so good!”
I did as she asked and fucked her harder, abandoning all restraint as I slammed my hips into hers, the sounds of skin on skin getting louder as my hips met her ass. It was becoming difficult to resist the hypnotic jiggle of her ass and the way her pussy was exquisitely gripping my cock, massaging as I pistoned in and out. I was about to cum, as I realized it, and there was nothing I could do about that now.
And then, before I knew it:
“So fucking good, yes! Fuck oppa I’m cumming, FUCK!”
“Shit, I’m cumming as well, fucking take it all!”
We met our orgasms at the same time, sharing that moment of bliss together. Her juices splattered my legs as they sprayed out, accompanied by her scream of pleasure, always reserved for just such a moment of satisfaction. The feeling was pervading up my entire body, immense pleasure before my actual release. Yiren gasped twice and moaned quietly at the deluge of hot cum that flooded her tight pussy. I kept fucking her at a slower pace, now the only things audible were the wet slaps of our skin and her occasional murmured expressions, as she rested somewhere between this bed and heaven itself.
“So good…feels so…feels so good…ohh yes just like that…”
I got the impression from what she was saying that she was very near unconsciousness. It wouldn’t surprise me, since she had just had a very intense orgasm. I pulled out of her with a lewd squelch and a large quantity of cum rushed out of her. 
��Ahhh…ohh yes…I love you oppa…”
I settled in front of her as she flopped over onto her side, breathing very heavily. I rubbed her back as she moved close, nimbly stroking all the spots I knew she loved, and she purred into my neck.
“I love you too, baby.”
I got up a while later, put on my clothes, and after giving the half-asleep Yiren a kiss, I went up to the kitchen to start preparing dinner. It was a quality that especially attracted her to me, the fact that I could cook, and well. She always said that a man who could cook was a man who wouldn’t have trouble finding women.
Jjajangmyeon was a personal favorite of both of ours, and so it was what I started making. I was nearly finished when the sound of the bedroom door opening sounded behind me and she entered the room wrapped in a blanket, yawning.
“Did you sleep?” I asked, industriously stirring the noodles. 
“Yes.” She yawned again. “For a little bit.”
“Good,” I replied, “because you’re not going to be doing much of it tonight.”
She giggled and peered into the pot.
“Jjajangmyeon?”
“Indeed.” I put the spatula down and turned to her. “Just how we both like it.”
She hugged me, the top of her head barely brushing my chin.
“Aww oppa you didn’t have to, I could have done it.”
I put my arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a tighter embrace.
“I know. That’s why I’m doing it.”
Yiren hugged me tighter and buried her face in my shirt, and I could feel her smile against my chest.
“I love it when you do this.”
Her words warmed my heart, and I smiled as well. 
“I do it all the time, you’d think some of the novelty would be lost.
She snorted. “Well, it hasn’t.”
I turned back to the wok and stirred my stir fry, my arm still around her shoulders. 
“What do you say we pop open some of that Hennessy after dinner?”
“Sounds good to me. That stuff hits hard, though.”
“Precisely.” I said. “We might not even have to use a lot.” 
“That looks like it’s done.” She said, nodding at the pot of noodles.
“I’m aware.” I replied. “Would you get out the bowls?”
She got out the bowls and two pairs of chopsticks as I turned off the fire on the stovetop. I dragged the noodles out of the pot and into the bowls and spooned the sauce onto them. She took them to the table and set up two chairs across from each other while I got out a bottle of choice Pinot Noir from the rack along with two glasses.
“Wow, you really are trying to get drunk, aren’t you?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Not really, but I’m not trying not to, if you catch my drift.”
She just smirked, absolutely catching my drift and knowing the outcome. I sat down after pouring the wine and setting the glasses down in our places.
Dinner passed quickly. The bowls had been cleared fairly quickly. I had sipped my wine away already, but Yiren always left hers to sit out for a while, the reason for which I never knew.
By the time she picked her glass back up I had poured myself some water as a beforehand countermeasure to the many measures of Hennessy we would be sharing. 
While I was thinking about it I got up and grabbed the bottle of Hennessy, setting it down on the table.
“Cheers,” she said happily, raising her glass. I raised mine and then drank from it as she followed suit. 
“Good choice.” She said, after a moment of consideration. “Very nice hints of different flavors.”
“I know,” I said, taking another mouthful of water. “Pinot Noir is always good. But my friend imports his wine from places France and Spain and Italy, places which do wine the right way.”
“Speaking of your friend, where is he on vacation?”
“In Switzerland right now, but in a few days he’ll be somewhere else in Europe, I don’t know. I’d have to ask him.”
She took another small sip of wine before speaking again. 
“Well, I can truthfully say that there’s no place I’d rather be then right here with you.”
She leaned across the small table and poked me in the chest, a playful smile gracing her lips. I caught her hand before she could draw it away and pulled her into a kiss. Her body seemed to relax into it, and a slightly muffled sigh was audible. When we broke the kiss off and sat back down, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were alive with desire.
“Damn, we haven’t even started drinking yet and you’re already losing it.”
Yiren blushed harder at my sentence. She said nothing, but something changed in her expression. She got up from her seat, abandoning her wine, and strode around the table to me. The next thing I knew, she was sitting in my lap, hands pulling my face towards hers. She moaned as her lips locked with mine, tongue entering my mouth, meeting with my own.
She pulled away, looking at me with the dim-ish light dancing in her eyes, a deep blush spread across her cheeks. 
“How about that Hennessy now, huh?” She said.
I reached for the bottle and unscrewed the top, as she turned to the side. I took a healthy swig of it myself before reaching for the shotglasses. The alcohol burned in my throat as it went down and I took a deep breath in.
We both downed a shot together. She coughed and winced as she swallowed, but nodded when I looked concernedly at her.
"I'm alright."
She reached for her second shot and swallowed it with me.
"How quick does this stuff kick in?" She asked as the glasses were once again refilled.
"Quickly."
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After successfully downing three shots and of the liquor, we sat back and waited on the couch. I had made the mistake of impatience while drinking once before, and it was not going to happen again.
And then it hit.
And when it hit, it hit hard.
"Whoa," I slurred as the room started spinning before my eyes, "Yiren, you feeling it?"
She gave a tipsy giggle and fell forward, still laughing.
"I dunno, I've never been drunk bfore..."
Through the haze of drunken stupor I was seeing, I looked down and saw her ass, so sexy and perfectly positioned...she was even bent over my lap, too...I had no chance of resisting the urge.
"Ah!" She yelped as I slapped her ass, then giggled again. "Oppa..."
"More..."
I gladly complied, landing more punishing smacks on her ass. With each spank she tensed and gave a small, cute cry.
Normally my dominant side stayed at a minimum, but I had to admit to myself that in my drunk state it was starting to take over my brain. I found myself increasing the intensity of my smacks and taking pleasure in it, causing her cries to rise in volume quickly.
"Nngh yes, keep spanking me oppa!" She whimpered, swiftly approaching her peak. "Ah! Fuck yes, keep doing that!"
I kept spanking her and reached around to caress her breast with my other hand. Her moans kept building until finally she orgasmed with a squeal, the crotch of her shorts becoming very wet.
Yiren took quick, shallow breaths to calm down after cumming, and when she had sufficiently recovered she rolled over on my legs to face me.
"That was fun oppa, we should go to the bedroom."
I blinked hard. "Shit, I dunno if I can walk."
She scoffed. "Come on, let's go."
I clumsily got up off the couch and weaved my way up the stairs and to the bedroom, stumbling three times on the way there. I dimmed the lights as I entered, then fell forward onto the bed, rolling over and scooting up to let my head rest on the pillow. My shirt was going to be an unnecessary accessory once she got up here, so I removed it and tossed it aside.
She entered the bed and slid the drapes shut behind her, wearing only her soaked shorts, panties, and a bra. I was already hard from the light spanking I had given her, but the mere sight of her sexy, half-naked body was enough to double my stiffness.
She clambered across the bed and straddled me, leaning down to kiss me. I accepted it only for a second, then gripped her hips and rolled over, so I was on top.
I kissed her more aggressively now, pressing my tongue against her lips to gain entry. She eventually gave in, but we both knew she was tantalizing herself by holding out, she wanted me. She gave a tiny sigh of pleasure.
I broke off the kiss and left her blushing and panting, eyes sparkling.
"God, you're so sexy when you're drunk." She murmured to me, holding my face with both hands.
"Really?" I said, locking eyes with her. "Then maybe I should do it more often."
Normally and drunkenly, Yiren's submissive side stayed at a minimum. It balanced with her enjoyment of being in control for a pretty neutral attitude. But I could see in her deep brown eyes a need. Whether she could feel it or not, I could tell that she needed to be dominated, badly.
"Hello?" Her voice said from a long way off, the sound trying desperately to be heard over the pounding of my own heart in my ears. "You gonna do something? Or will I have to do it myself?"
She was baiting me, and I knew it. Trying to spur me into fucking her. But it wasn't going to happen yet.
"Yeah, I'm gonna do something." I growled. "And you're gonna take it, like it or not."
A shudder ran through her at my words, but she maintained her cocky, playful attitude.
"Ooh, he's getting feisty. Someone's a little drunk."
I could feel annoyance rising at her words, which was exactly what she wanted, of course. She observed me with satisfaction.
"Okay, that's it." I got off her, opened the drapes, and stood up, removing my jeans and boxers. She automatically got off the bed and knelt in front of me as I sat on the edge of it, knowing my intention. I wasted no time in grabbing her hair and forming it into a ponytail in my hand, grasping none too lightly. She gasped at my sudden roughness, and I used the opportunity of her mouth already being open to shove my cock into it.
She choked as my tip poked the back of her throat, but didn't resist as I slowly pushed further in, bringing her face to the base. She gagged, and I pulled her head back by the ponytail before slamming my hips into it again, driving my length down her throat. Over and over I brought her face back before plunging it back down, spearing her throat with my cock.
Tears gathered in her eyes when she choked, gagging obscenely on my dick. After a bit she started moving by herself, her neck on autopilot, ramming her face into my crotch. Saliva spilled down her face and dripped off her messy chin to her bra-clad breasts below. Light mascara streaks tracked down her face, joining the mess at her lips.
Yiren brought her head down one more time and held it there for a second, a choking sound resounding, before pulling off, gasping and breathing heavily. She looked at me, panting, and I felt the promise of an orgasm drifting away.
"Why'd you stop?"
"I want you to cum inside me."
I reached forward and lifted her onto the bed, setting her down none too gently on her back. I held my hand on her throat, choking her, not enough to cause damage.
She caught her breath at the rough treatment, clearly turned on. But I wasn't going to hold off on that domination.
"You want?" I breathed into her face, her pupils dilating in arousal. "Maybe you need a reminder of who's in charge."
She said nothing, but I could see a subtle change in her expression. I grabbed the waistband of her shorts and panties and pulled them over her slender legs and off her feet. Her pussy was already soaked and shining with arousal.
Yiren, still keeping up her cocky demeanor, gave a huge fake yawn and smirked cheekily. I narrowed my eyes and then reached up and tore the bra off her, making her yelp. However overweening she was acting, I could see in her face a desire to be dominated. And that was a desire I was more than willing to satisfy.
I crawled forward, lifted her legs up, and sheathed myself to the root inside her tight, wet pussy. "Fuck!" She cried out as I pushed into her. She moaned and gasped when I bottomed out inside her, firmly prodding her cervix. Her quick, high-pitched breaths heightened my arousal.
My brain was far too cloudy to control my desire, so my thrusts were fast and rough. I relentlessly pounded her, not holding back a bit and not sorry at all. I gave her ass quick smacks randomly every few thrusts, making her yelp every single time.
Her brows contracted and turned up, and her mouth stayed slightly open, her face falling into that angelic expression of bliss that never failed to make me shiver in pleasure myself.
"Oh - fuck - yes - harder - please!" She whimpered in time with my strokes. I lowered my face to her ear.
"Now remind me," I growled, her moans filling my own ears, "who's in charge?"
She barely managed to get the words out inbetween her cries. "You oppa! You're in charge! I belong to you!"
I gave her ass a hard slap, somewhat dissatisfied with her answer. "Then say it right, slut."
"I'm yours, sir!" She cried again, "I belong to you only!"
"Good girl." I said in a low voice, and I felt her shiver under me. I slowed my thrusts to a calmer pace, more to tantalize her than anything else. She was near an orgasm, I could tell, so I kept the strokes at a steady pace with a lot of force.
"Sir, please," She begged, her juices leaking out around me, clearly turned on by my dominance, "Fuck me harder, make me cum for you." Cleverly worded so as to make it like this was for me, not for her. I was not, even in my drunk-as-fuck state, going to fall for that.
"Why would I do that?" I said to her dismay, evilly grinning. "You were such a bad girl earlier, why should I reward you?"
"I'm sorry, sir!" She said breathlessly, her eyes full of desperation. "I'm sorry I was bad! Please, sir, fuck me and make me cum!"
I couldn't really help but give in, since my libido was screaming at me. So I picked up the pace and resumed my uncontrolled plowing of her tight cunt, the resistance smoothed somewhat by the enormous amounts of slick she was producing.
With every subsequent thrust, her moans became louder snd her words dirtier as I brought her nearer to her peak.
"Mmhh yes sir, fuck me harder! It's so good, fuck! I'm gonna cum for you sir!"
I pushed myself up from my elbows and held a hand to her neck, pushing down just enough to make her enjoy it. She took a sharp breath and opened her eyes, pupils dilated.
"Shut the fuck up and take it, slut," I said, groaning despite myself.
"Yes, sir," she gasped, moaning, as I pushed deeper. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!"
She wasn't lying. Her voice died momentarily as her eyes rolled into her head and she bucked her hips up into me, a gush of cum spraying my abdomen. She found her voice after a second, and let out a short, loud "ah", mouth open. Her hips continued their motion seemingly independent of her pleasure-addled brain.
Her moans subsided, and an idea came to me. I reluctantly pulled out of her, a lewd squelch sounding. She lay there, unmoving, eyes open and practically heart-pupiled. I walked to the french doors leading to thr balcony and opened them, a rush of cool night air sweeping over me.
Yiren lifted her head slightly at the sudden cool draft and pushed herself up with slightly trembling arms. I went back to the bed and lifted her off it easily, then set her down on her front on the soft white couch oustide. She gave a tiny gasp as a breeze of cool air moved over her naked pussy.
"Sir...
"Fuck me again..."
I was still rock hard despite the cool air, so I climbed onto the couch with her. Her head was laying sideways towards the dark scenery, her arms were stretched out in front of her, and her ass was sticking up in the air, perfectly positioned for me to fuck.
I slid my cock back into her wet heat, drawing a languid whimper from her mouth and clenching my jaw with a groan. I started off slow, with gentle, even thrusts, Yiren moaning softly beneath me.
"Mmm fuck yes you're so deep in me oppa..."
I kicked the pace up a little and started thrusting faster and harder, quickly turning her moans to cries as I pounded her tight pussy.
"Mmhh fuck! Pound me harder please sir! Pound my little pussy! So good, fuck, yes yes please harder! So fucking big inside me, yes! Nghh oh god yes, use me, fuck!"
Her words flicking every arousal switch in my brain to 'on', I went even faster, giving it everything I had to keep pushing into her. Beads of sweat formed at my hairline at the effort. Yiren was reduced to a mewling, whimpering, moaning mess, unable to form coherent words in her pleasure. I slapped her ass hard and she cried out.
"Please - sir - harder! Oh - yes - slap me - sir!"
I spanked her harder and she arched her back, a small yelp escaping her with every thrust I gave. Pleasure was building in my lower abdomen like resistance from a compressed spring, my abs and obliques tensing in preparation.
"Yes sir, give it to me! Fuck me harder please! Nghh yes, I'm gonna - I'm gonna - fuck, I'm cumming sir!"
"Fuck!" I groaned, as she gave a particularly sexy cry that sent shivers down my spine, "Yiren baby I'm gonna fucking cum!"
"Yes - please - sir!" She managed through her high-pitched whines of bliss. This, combined with her usage of "sir", was all the initiative I needed to cum inside her.
"Oh my god yes, FUCK!" I almost roared, slamming my hips into hers one last time, burying my cock so deep inside her that it touched her cervix again and blasting her insides with hot cum. My release triggered hers, and she orgasmed again with a scream, spraying her cum out onto me.
I rolled over and off her, sliding out to let a large amount of cum come spilling out of her. She gave another soft moan and then rolled over to face me. I pulled her closer and her face and body were very hot despite the 6°C temperature outside.
"So good... oppa I love you..."
"I love you too, baby."
...
I must have fallen asleep, since when I awoke it was about 8 o'clock in the morning, judging by the sun's position. Yiren was snoozing peacefully beside me. As I slowly returned to a waking state I realized that I was stiffer than a wood plank again. Yiren's sleeping body was looking incredibly sexy, and I was entirely unable to control my sudden desire. I pulled her closer to me and pushed into her again, quietly groaning. She gave a soft moan in her sleep. I started very slowly, but even this was enough to stir her from her slumber. She breathed in deeply and shifted slightly, and I continued my thrusts, making her whine faintly. She steadily returned to conciousness, moaning more and tightening around me.
"Oppa?"
"Yes, baby," I groaned through gritted teeth, listening to her soft mewls of satisfaction. "Oh, fuck..."
Her eyes opened partially, looking lazily out at the trees, and then they closed and her eyebrows contracted upwards as I reached around and started rubbing her clit, making her gasp and whimper.
"A-ah...oh yes, k-keep doing that..."
Her head leaned back into my collarbone and I could smell vanilla in her soft hair. I grabbed her hips and slammed mine into them, driving my cock deep inside her and making her cry a loud "ah".
"Ohh yes yes yes, please keep going, I'm gonna fucking cum again, don't stop oppa!"
I reached and put my hand around her slim neck, squeezing lightly, just enough to give her the sensation I knew she liked. Her intonations of pleasure became unintelligible.
"Yes - fuck - harder - oppa - mmm yes - so good!"
"Fuck, you like that baby?" I squeezed her neck harder.
"Ah! Yes, sir! I love it! Fuck my little pussy harder! Use me! Your cock is so big, so deep inside me sir!"
"Yiren, I'm gonna cum baby," I gasped, moaning in her ear, and I felt her shiver in arousal under me.
"Cum inside me, sir," Yiren panted, arching her back into me. Her hands went to her own breasts, squeezing and massaging, pleasuring her to greater heights. Her eyes closed once more and she let out a shriek of pleasure and a long moan as sbe squirted on me again, arms and legs trembling uncontrollably as her mind whited out.
I briefly lost touch with reality as my own mind was flooded with sensation and I released inside her again. My body shuddered in pleasure and I let out a few swears through gritted teeth, thrusting my way through my orgasm. Yiren gasped and moaned throughout it, loving the feeling of warmth pouring into her.
My muscles relaxed, and I slipped out of her as we both settled down again, panting and satisfied. It was a few minutes before she spoke again.
"Oppa?"
"Yiren, baby?"
She sighed contentedly. "I love you."
"I love you too." I replied, planting a row of kisses on her neck.
"You know what I think oppa?"
"What's that, babe?"
She turned over and faced me, a devilish smirk twisting her lips.
"I think it's gonna be a really fun summer."
357 notes · View notes
allywthsr · 5 months
Text
WRAPPING HIS PRESENTS | (l.norris)
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summary: you wrap Lando’s presents
wordcount: 1.1k words
pairing: landonorris x fem!reader
warnings: like two sexual things, but nothing graphic
notes: what are we thinking?
advent calendar
You sat on the floor in the living room, Lando was currently in the gym, training for the next two hours. It was time to wrap his presents, the rest of the presents, for the other people of your family, were already wrapped and stored away in a closet in the guest room. Now the only things that were missing, were his presents, in front of you laid multiple things you bought for Lando, grabbing the red wrapping paper with little Santa’s and reindeer on it. You took the scissors and cut off a piece of the paper, grabbing the first present, a new hoodie from his favorite brand. You saw him check it out online and you could not not buy it for him, he almost bought it himself, but you could convince him, that you shouldn’t buy yourself things right before Christmas, so he didn’t.
Closing the wrapping paper with a few strips of tape, you took a sticker where you could write his name on it, and wrote ‘Lan’ in your best handwriting, even adding a small bow you bought in a little corner shop.
The next present was a bit more cheesy, it was a keyring for his keychain, made out of glass with his favorite picture of you two put in there, you knew he loved small things like that. It was small, but it meant something to him, and that’s most important.
You grabbed a different wrapping paper, now you had a dark blue one in your hand, and it was covered with golden stars. You didn’t want to go too overboard with his presents, but you knew he would, so you tried to give him something back, even tho you knew you didn’t have to. He was happy if you would give him a kiss on Christmas morning, but you weren’t satisfied with that, you tried to go bigger every year.
The next present was a small silly thing you found on Amazon while checking out, it was a scratch-off movie poster. The two of you could never decide what movie to watch, sometimes the planned movie night ended after one hour because you couldn’t find something to watch, either one of you has seen a film and the other hasn’t, or the genre wasn’t the right one, sometimes you just didn’t find one that fits in the mood and sometimes you couldn’t decide on one, because there are so many movies, you’ve watched together and all the good films have been watched by you two a hundred times. With that scratch-off poster, that problem would be solved and evenings that would be filled with looking through the whole Netflix catalog, while the other was also searching through different movie platforms, would be at least be over for a hundred days. He could just scratch off the material and each movie night, you wouldn’t have this discussion that annoyed both of you.
You, again, cut out a piece of paper and wrapped it around the rolled-up poster, sticking the sticker on it, and writing his name on it.
The next present was a silly present you found in a store, it was a small retro arcade machine, and he loved arcade games. It was a miniature arcade machine that he could take with him wherever he went if he was bored before a race. He would definitely play with it. It had games like Super Mario or Flappy Bird on it, perfect for Lando’s interest, he loved these old games he used to play as a kid. You put the batteries in the slot and wrapped the dark blue wrapping paper around it, closing it off with a few stripes of tape, writing his name on the sticker, and placing a bow on top of it as well, you bought a few bows in a dollar store, that would stick to the present without having to make the bow.
You went all out for presents this year, but you bought most of them on Black Friday, so the hundred and fifty pounds hoodie only cost ninety pounds, what a steal.
The next gift was more a fun gift than an actual useful gift, it was an indoor putting green, the long stripe of fake grass had a slight bend towards the end, so it wasn’t just a straight line that he had to play. He always told you that he hated it, when it rained and he wasn’t able to go golfing, he wanted to buy himself a putting green for the inside for a while now, yet, he never did. Lando could practice his putting skills and his swings, he would love it, it would annoy you for a few weeks, he sure would only do that for some days, but that’s fine. You took another roll of wrapping paper and cut off a piece, wrapping the edges around the box, sealing it with some tape, and sticking the sticker with his name on it.
The main present was a self-made one, a jar filled with three-hundred sixty-five little notes. He can pick one note every day for the next year, on the notes were little compliments, funny sayings, dirty talking, and declarations of love.
You worked on this for multiple days, cutting out three-hundred sixty-five colorful papers, was a task, that took you three days alone. Writing all the notes on the paper took you like a week and a half, it might sound like a lot, but you had to think about three-hundred sixty-five notes and write them on a small piece of paper while Lando does not notice you doing it. And since the winter break started, he was mostly home, so you had to do it when he was training or playing Fortnite or something.
Some examples of the notes are
⁃ thank you for you
⁃ I love you
⁃ I‘m glad my boyfriend has a big cock
⁃ I hope you have a good day
⁃ Thank you for every orgasm
It might be cheesy, but Lando and you are that couple that leaves little sticky notes around the house to make the other happy, the present was basically like the sticky notes but without sticking it somewhere.
You closed the lid from the jar and cut off a big piece of wrapping paper, wrapping it around the glass and closing the paper with tape, and sticking his name on top with it, just like a big bow.
You looked at the presents in front of you, you couldn’t wait for him to open all of them, you were sure he would be happy about every single one.
521 notes · View notes
rin-fukuroi · 6 months
Text
𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐬
Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.
The originals of my works can be read here
Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail Pairings: Blade, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Dan Heng, Sampo, Gepard, Welt x fem!reader Warnings: NSFW, sharing intimate photos, references to masturbation.
Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq 
I'm not sure I've seen anyone write about this, so I decided it would be fun to think about how men from HSR send us photos of their dicks XD Enjoy!
✦ Blade
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The first time it was your idea. Although he treated this with some suspicion, all doubts were immediately dispelled as soon as he received a seductive candid photo from you.
Blade has a lot of strange addictions, but now your little game at a distance has also been added to them. The job of a Stellaron Hunter takes up too much of his time, but it's a little easier for him to bear separation when you please him at least just by the sight of your sexy body.
Although you started it, Blade quickly gets into the taste, putting you in an awkward position especially at those moments when you are out of the house or, especially, at work. He likes the idea that your hips will close, your pretty face will surely be powdered with blush, and your underwear will be covered with warm moisture from just one photo that he will make especially for you.
Blade doesn't like anything else as much as teasing you and making you beg. He will definitely take care to accompany his photos with tempting captions, as if the sight of his excited penis alone is not enough to drive you crazy.
But even this will not be enough for him when he orders you to retire with the phone at any cost, no matter where you will be at this moment. Prepare yourself properly, describing to him in every detail how you play with yourself under his strict guidance and do not forget to send a photo report.
✦ Jing Yuan
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The General will definitely be the first to suggest that you send him your intimate photo while he is relaxing in his chair, shirking from work.
Jing Yuan likes it when you obediently fulfill his requests, but he loves it even more when you yourself take the initiative to pamper your lover a little. If you surprise the General in the middle of the working day with one of your piquant photos, be prepared for the fact that when he comes home, he will properly thank his playful girlfriend.
As for him… If that's what you want, then why not? He will make any photo for you, no matter what you ask, without a bit of hesitation and doubt. If you want to take the initiative, forcing him to caress himself under your guidance, he will be happy to play this game with you.
Like Blade, Jing Yuan is a very teasing man, although not in such an overbearing display. He doesn't mind making you feel embarrassed at any time and in any place, but he prefers that you fall for his bait yourself, satisfying him with your charming detailed stories about how much you enjoy playing with yourself with thoughts about him.
✦ Luocha
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His eyes widen slightly in surprise when he receives a candid photo from you, overwhelmed by feelings that he has not experienced before, since no one else has honored him with such an honor. Especially when you consider the fact that you are both in the same apartment, when he is relaxing reading a book waiting for you to get out of the shower.
Is this an invitation or did you just decide to play a little? Anyway, Luocha is intrigued and doesn't mind having fun with you at all. When he gets excited enough from your teasing, be prepared that he will no longer hold back. Throwing the phone on the sofa, he will definitely join you in the shower, properly demonstrating to you what pranks can lead to.
After this incident, he is no longer surprised if one of the days when you miss him too much, sitting at work, you ask him to make a juicy photo for you. He will treat this issue with all seriousness, carefully choosing the angle and going through several different options to satisfy your request.
We can say that Luocha definitely likes your little innocent games, especially those moments when you are finally alone so that he can throw out all the tension that your intimate correspondence caused. You didn't think that photos alone would be enough for him, did you?
✦ Dan Heng
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Oh, innocent Dan Heng. He definitely won't be the one to take the initiative. In this relationship, you're definitely the one who teases, but not the other way around.
With all the outward seriousness, Dan Heng is so easy to embarrass and embarrass. It's even funny. That's why you decide, without any warning, to ask him to take a photo of a piquant content for you. You can't see it in the correspondence, but you can imagine how his face immediately lit up as soon as he read your message.
He's never done this before, but he can't refuse you. It will be a clumsy photo taken with a trembling hand, but incredibly cute from the fact that he really got excited from just one unexpected request of an intimate nature.
Although he doesn't quite understand why you are doing this, but he is pleased to receive these lovely sexy photos from you. He will save each of them in his phone, hiding it in a private folder so that, God forbid, no one will ever see your naked body. This privilege is only for him.
Will he ever do something like that for you again? Well… a little practice and maybe someday he will stop being so embarrassed by this request, but for now he will prefer to replenish his precious collection with even more photos of you taken especially for him.
✦ Sampo
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There's not even anything to talk about, he will be the first one to come to you without any warnings.
His courage and perseverance, when he asks you without a second thought to take a couple of photos for him, definitely deserves respect. Although you know that your boyfriend likes to fool around and you've almost stopped being surprised by his strange antics, this one seemed very tempting.
Let his messages that accompany your little game sound even too dirty, but in each of them he is ready to literally worship your body, with pleasure using all your photos in the future to satisfy himself when you are not around.
Oh, you only have to take the initiative, and Sampo will kiss the asphalt on which your foot has trod! You're too good to be real if you can literally read his mind, spoiling him with naughty photos when he's busy with one of his dirty deeds, which he will gladly give up in order to return home and properly thank his goddess.
✦ Gepard
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Gepard is even worse than Dan Heng. Not only is he confused by your request, but he will also bombard you with a ton of questions, why exactly did you need it.
The Captain is too far from such games and you really should explain to him the purpose of your request. But, as soon as all the questions that have arisen are satisfied with the answers, Gepard will gladly fulfill any of your requests.
As for your photos… Oh, what are you doing with him, he's at work. It will take a lot of effort for him to hide the bulge in his trousers that arose because of your candid photo. What a blessing that the Silvermane Guards uniform is loose enough that it does not cause questions from his subordinates. Although his red face will be harder to hide. You should definitely pamper him on his return from work for all the willpower he showed by going through this ordeal because of you.
And, of course, he will save every photo you take for him. Not even to satisfy himself in your absence, he will just sometimes admire your body, enjoying the thought that it all belongs to him.
✦ Welt
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It would seem that such a mature man should have a lot of experience in everything, even in sexual aspects, but do not hope that he will immediately correctly understand your hints.
Even after receiving candid photos from you, it will not immediately reach him that you want to pamper your lover in this way. But as soon as all the pieces of the puzzle in his head come together in a clear picture, he will not mind at all. He really even liked your frankness and the fact that he now has the opportunity to save a couple of your intimate photos in his phone, instead of sketching your naked body from memory in his album.
As for Welt himself, yes, of course, he will do whatever you ask. Perhaps he, like Locha, will approach this issue with all seriousness. Welt is an artist, so the photo you get should be perfect, no matter how much time it takes.
Welt is really grateful to the universe for giving him such an amazing girl. He should definitely pamper you properly as soon as you are alone, paying special attention to those parts of the body that were so seductively flaunted in your photos taken especially for him.
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demonpiratehuntress · 3 months
Note
Hii this might be an odd request. Feel free to ignore this if you don't like to write.
You know, straw hats have doctor, cook, swardsman, navigator,... Can you add another one who do mathematical, physics and chemistry stuff? If you can please make her a female.
She is not a genius. More like an average person. But she tries so hard. Sometime get lazy and unproductive too.
And if you can please make it a Ace x reader fic.
Thank you.
sure thing! :) it's not very long, because I don't know what else they can do in terms of those things, but i hope you still enjoy it! sorry for the wait!
taglist - @kabloswrld
someone's gotta do it
Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader
summary - the ask above
warnings - none
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The Straw Hat crew wasn't very big, but it was certainly diverse. You guys had everything ranging from a navigator to a musician, so there were a lot of areas of expertise that were covered. All except for three, you supposed, which was constantly the downfall of the crew in certain situations.
A mathematician was needed, a chemist was needed and a physicist was needed.
You weren't exactly an expert in any of those areas, but you were doing your best to try and make up for those losses. You were doing your best to fill in those roles where absolutely necessary, so it wouldn't cost the crew as much anymore.
You had lots of duties to fill in these areas. You studied the log pose to determine exactly how it worked, marveling at the discovery of geomagnetism and excitedly explaining to the crew how it worked. This helped to better understand navigation in the Grand Line, and you felt useful providing that knowledge.
These duties also included setting a budget for the crew's spending on groceries and necessities, as you had to add up and subtract things you needed and things you didn't. Sometimes it was a hassle, because Luffy kept trying to add things that you absolutely did not need or even want.
"But it looks cool!"
"Luffy! Do you know how far that'll set us back in terms of berries!" You cried in exasperation, knocking your captain on the head. Oh no, you were starting to sound like Nami.
Speaking of Nami, you could also help her with her charts and her navigation. With mathematics, you could assist in charting courses that you've been on, and calculate the exact speed and distance the Sunny would require to get to certain places or away from danger. It was quite useful for that, as you could also determine how long it would take to get to a certain destination. Well, to the best of your ability seeing as this was the Grand Line after all.
"She's new."
An unfamiliar voice met your ears when you stepped out of your room to find the others out on deck, surrounding an unfamiliar man. He looked a bit like Luffy, but with freckles on his cheeks and a cowboy hat on his head.
That and he was shirtless.
You tried your hardest not to stare, blushing madly as you immediately thought that this was a really attractive man. You didn't know who he was, but you were attracted to him.
"Our mathem-mathe-maps?" Luffy tried, unable to pronounce the word.
You giggled and stepped forward, holding out your hand, "I'm (Name), the newest member. I do all the mathematics, physics and chemistry around here. Or, at least, I try my best."
The man grinned and shook your hand, "Nice to meet you! I'm Ace, Luffy's brother."
Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, "Luffy's...brother?!"
Ace didn't seem offended, instead he laughed at your reaction, "Yeah, we get that a lot." He got Luffy in a headlock and ruffled his hair. "It's always hard to believe this little idiot is my younger brother, since I'm so charming and intelligent."
You giggled at his words, then even more so when the crew all disagreed with the second trait he mentioned.
Ace stuck around for a few days, wanting to spend some time with his little brother now that Luffy was a bigshot pirate with a big bounty and a special crew. But instead of hanging at his brother's side, Ace was curious about you. He thought you were cute, so he tried to spend some time around you, and you fell victim to his charms and his flirting.
"So, whatcha working on?" The commander grinned, leaning against your desk as you wrote down a few formulas for different chemicals.
"Hmm?" You glanced up, then blushed and quickly looked down. "Oh, nothing. I was just trying to find out how different chemicals and substances react with each other, in case we ever come across some weird devil fruit power or a chemical environment."
"And? Anything interesting?" He prompted, still smiling.
You sighed and shook your head, "Nothing useful. I'm kind of getting bored and I don't really want to read more."
He laughed then, standing up straight and holding out his hand, "Then come with me. And you can tell me about navigation using the stars."
You blushed again but accepted his offer, taking his hand and following him out. The two of you lay on the grass and stared at the sky, as you explained how sailors could locate the positions of islands or navigate where they needed to go using certain constellations and stars. He listened intently, not usually interested in this stuff but eager to hear you talk. He liked your voice, and he thought it was refreshing to see someone talking animatedly about something other than treasure or the One Piece.
"That's interesting," he spoke when you were done, "My brother's lucky to have someone so smart on his crew."
"Oh I'm not that smart," you turned red and shook your head, "I just try, that's all. Most of the time I don't even do anything and I just lay and watch the sky. It's hard to be motivated sometimes."
He studied your face as you said this, then grinned again, "Well, everyone gets lazy and unproductive sometimes. The good thing is that you're trying."
His words reassured you, and you smiled at the thought that he was impressed by you. You glanced at him quickly, then looked back at the sky and felt your heartbeat quicken.
"Someone's gotta do it."
He laughed at that, and turned to face you, "I like you. You're a refreshing change of pace in the world of pirates. No one usually cares about what you do, so it's nice to see you care."
Your cheeks warmed up at that, "I just don't want it impacting my crew, that's all. Sometimes we get let down by not knowing this stuff. I just want to protect my crew from that."
"A noble cause," he agreed.
You snorted, "Since when is anything pirates do noble?"
And the two of you laughed and joked around there under the star-filled sky, and suddenly you didn't feel so ridiculous about wanting to specialise in those topics that pirates generally never used.
Maybe you could also do it for you.
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a/n - so, um, i dont even know if i got this right so im SO sorry if i didn't! i wasn't really sure how to go about it, so im really really sorry if it's disappointing. i tried, though!
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yandere-sins · 9 months
Text
Control (Miguel O'Hara x Reader)
a/n: Finally I got to write about him! Thank Tiktok and music for inspiration, because otherwise I would have been sitting on such an amazing character for even longer! Glad to have that out of my system ♥
Characters: Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Implications (grinding against each other, kissing), I don't speak spanish but tried to do my research, Threatening one's life, Fear of falling to death, Death/Suicide ideation mention, Long post
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You were desperate for someone—anyone—to notice you, despite being in a room filled with so-called 'superheroes'.
No matter how many times you tried to establish eye contact with someone approaching, they wouldn't notice your feeble attempts to reach out or simply ignore the glances you exchanged. As if your presence meant nothing to them, your indigence only meeting indifference. They treated you like a ghost, or more fitting, a hologram they could dismiss for their own sake. As if you never existed in the same plane as they did.
Or perhaps, the presence of the man whose lap you were sitting on was completely devouring yours. 
"Concentrate," he ordered, reaching up to pinch the cheek of yours that wasn't settled on his shoulder. You'd been staring off into the hustle and bustle, gazing longingly at the other spider-people doing their normal, everyday things, unbothered by your meager attempts to distract them. It was your own fault for not speaking up, screaming and crying, throwing a tantrum, but there was one thing - one person - you feared more than being left to your fate. 
Miguel O'Hara.
Or the bane of your existence. Your enemy. Stalker. Psycho. An unexplainably respected man in this universe you found yourself in, the details still a little confusing. How anyone could respect someone that kept himself a human pet was incomprehensible to you. But he made it all too clear that he wanted you to not move off his lap or talk to anyone but him, as well as made sure to warn anyone approaching of the consequences if they came too close to you for his liking. And somehow, everyone just accepted his conditions. Even you. 
Where would you go? You couldn't outrun him, and no distractions had been great enough to find a place to hide and wait him out. Even if no one acknowledged you aside from him - and Lyla, who, ultimately, was on his side in all of this - they'd become bloodthirsty hounds the second he wanted you to be tracked down and captured. You tried. You really tried. 
And failed, and failed, and failed, and failed.
There was no way out for you, at least not at that moment. No matter how much it made your stomach churn, how much you hated to comply, you heaved a defeated sigh, sitting up straight as best as you could on his thighs with your legs hanging from either side of his, his arms around you keeping you safe from falling off—and locking you in place on his lap. Miguel O'Hara didn't do 'mistakes' and 'coincidences'. Especially not when it came to keeping you right where he wanted you. 
"Do you get it now?" he asked when he noticed your eyes back on the screens, technical codes and video live feed running next to each other on countless smaller windows that began to envelop you two. The platform beneath his workspace shuddered briefly before it was put into motion, a mere swipe of his fingers enough to lift you two into the air, away from the crowd. 
Maps started to show up, all similar but different, the same city in different universes. Places you'd never go. That he'd never take you to. Well… unless… 
Unless you loved him.
The thought alone made you gag, and you covered your mouth to not give away the fact you weren't listening to him explaining how to use the statistics again. You wondered how many more times he'd explain it to you, only for you to say, "I don't get it," and him starting over again. It was a small act of pettiness. One that was wearing his patience thin and rigid. One that would cost you a lot if you upset him later. But it was better than to be his pretty little assistant 2, nodding and awing at every word slipping from his mouth while he taught you such an important task. For putting so much trust into your skills and helping him do… whatever the fuck it was, he was trying to teach you.
God, you couldn't stand that guy.
As if kidnapping and threatening you wasn't enough, now he was also enslaving you to do his work. All under the pretense of—as Miguel called it—putting your energy into useful things.
"Cariño, could you please just concentrate?"
Bumping his chest into your back, the slight shove forward was enough to tear you out of your thoughts. You held back your disdain for the new seating arrangement, only one of you two enjoying the closeness while the other dreaded it. Before, he'd let you sit at the edge of the platform, watch the people work and pass the time in your thoughts. But ever since you tried jumping off in a moment of boredom-induced insanity, Miguel had decided that a desk and chair would benefit his plan of keeping you caged by his side, ripping away your freedom piece by piece, one time after the other. 
And you hated how gently he was doing it. 
You felt the sigh he heaved, felt his chest brushing up against your back again as he let his hands glide down your arms. The man didn't have patience, but he had time, and he made sure to remind you of it. Time to break you. Time to make you submit. Time to make you love him. Miguel ever so slightly opened his legs, spreading yours while he interloped your fingers with his at the same time, placing your hands on the keyboard and mouse respectively. It was his way of asserting control, showing you that you were nothing without him and needed his guidance. All while forcing you to rely on him, as you'd fall without his support. He was in control of you. Of your life. And even in the most subtle ways, Miguel didn't want you to forget it.
You knew all his tricks by now, making you hate him even more. 
"You have to click here and then enter the system password…" he mumbled into your ear, his hot breath grazing it. A cold shudder ran down your spine. You could assume all the innocence you wanted in his actions, but you knew he was far from it. In the reflection on the screen, barely visibly if you didn't focus on it, you could see the jerk in the corner of his lips. The bastard was enjoying this more than he hated repeating himself. But you were not going to sit there and let him have it his way.
"What happens if I click here?" you asked, feigning the same innocence as you led the pointer astray, clicking on some pop-up you couldn't decipher. Miguel turned rigid against your back instantly, muscles bulking and fingers curling into claws on top of your hands. 
"Let's not–"
"Wait, that looks super interesting." 
You stopped him before he could close the pop-up, pretending you were terribly interested in the colorful numbers running down the screen, certain that it was unimportant, perhaps dangerous, to have someone untrained like you work with easily modifiable code. Miguel halted, unmoving, gauging out if you were genuinely interested or if this was another one of your schemes. For good measure (and to confuse him), you let out a few more "wow!" and "I see!" wasting at least some of the time he had put aside to teach you before he saw through your terrible acting. 
"That's enough–" 
He pushed the cursor towards the X in the corner.
"Wait, I really want to see that!"
You pushed the cursor back, accidentally marking a few numbers and copying them with the help of the keyboard.
"No, you don't even–"
Once again, he tried to close the window, growing more forceful with your hand and the mouse.
"Ah! Don't close it! I was reading that!"
You struggled but pushed the cursor back over the numbers, clicking and adding the previously copied ones into the code.
"ENOUGH!"
Raising your hands from the mouse and keyboard, you stopped completely in your tracks, not even daring to breathe. You listened to him taking a deep breath, exhaling through his mouth to calm himself before he pressed his face into the back of your head. It was a short-lived defiance, but defiance nonetheless, and when you were sure he couldn't see it, it was your turn to grin like the rascal you were. A small victory in a war you were utterly losing. 
"You're testing me again, Cariño, but this is no game. You could do some serious harm to people if you play around–"
A blaring alarm suddenly rang out, and you weren't the only one that jolted. Gripping you by the hips, Miguel stood up, setting you down only briefly before grabbing your hand and dragging you over to the edge of the platform. You were no longer the same person that wanted to jump off into the depths, at least not that day. But even though you took a tentative step back, Miguel made sure you were right by his side and in his peripheral by tugging you forward. 
"What's wrong?!" he yelled through the alarm at some spooked Spiderman below. Surprised by Miguel's sudden yelling, the man jumped and looked around him in a panic, apparently not knowing what was happening either. Just as Miguel wanted to shake his head in frustration, the alarm stopped abruptly, and you both raised an eyebrow as you looked around, both confused and unsettled about what had just happened. 
"Hey Miguel!" someone called from below, and you recognized the pregnant woman you saw standing down there with a tablet as one of Miguel's trusted henchmen, ushering the other Spiderman away. "Thanks for finally fixing that damn broken code! Now Sector 5 has functioning doors again!"
She walked off before Miguel could say anything, and you slumped, the realization of what you did slowly dawning on you. He let go of your hand, brushing back some strands of hair that had fallen into his face before chuckling. “Dios bueno, Cariño…”
It wasn't the outcome you had wanted, and it was driving you up the wall that you had done something that benefitted Miguel's cause even in the slightest. But you had no time to let the frustration take over your thoughts as he turned around to you, stepping forward, to which you instinctively took a step back. One after another, he forced you to go backwards, prowling like a predator that had his prey right where he wanted. Even with his posture relaxed, a hand on his hip, and a grin on his lips, you felt nothing but danger when you looked at him, urging you to keep avoiding him.
"Look at you, you're doing such a good job," he purred, and you stumbled a little, his gaze burning against your skin, raising goosebumps everywhere on your body. "Seems like I have to thank you for that, huh? A little reward?"
"No need!" you rejected without hesitation, taking another step back.
Only this time... it didn't connect with the ground.
Flailing your arms, you let out a horrified gasp. You were about to plummet off the platform, down to the cold, hard, metal ground, and other than the last time, you couldn't be sure Miguel was going to catch you. After all, it had been Miguel who directed you towards the edge. Surely he must have known you'd fall off if you took that last step, not saying anything. 
You squeezed your eyes closed, not wanting his face to be the last thing you saw before you'd break all your bones and leave this world for good. However, with your body already tilted over the edge, his hand gripped you by the throat, holding you in place, the fear and panic coming to a sudden standstill as did your movement. There was nothing to catch you behind your back, your life hanging on to the whim of the person you hated the most. The one you were sure secretly hated you just the same, considering all the torture he put you through in the name of his love. 
Slowly, unwillingly, you forced yourself to open your eye again, refusing to look at Miguel, and instead shot a glance over your shoulder. A mistake. 
"Pu-- Pull me up!" you demanded, shaking after seeing how deep the fall was. Apparently, your survival instinct was still intact and very much active as you clawed your meager nails into his arms, trying to hold onto him. You tried desperately to find a grip on his arm, slipping off over and over as you tried to help yourself upwards, your fingers too sweaty to stick to the slick material of his suit. 
"Please!" you whisper squeaked, tears filling your eyes when you finally decided to look at him. Miguel's slight grin disappeared as he pretended to think, humming thoughtfully and rubbing his chin. "You said I deserve a reward! I want you to pull me up again!... Please…”
He stepped closer to the edge, the grip on your throat never tightening or loosening. A horrifying way to be held in the air, not even able to twist out of it. The sudden closeness, however, gave you a chance to claw at his chest instead, your fingertips reaching out to try and grip the nape of his neck to find some halt, only missing a few inches to reach it. 
"That's not how it works, Cariño. We both know you're not in charge here. Your reward is being saved from falling to your death."
Pulling you just a few inches upwards, Miguel had you close enough to bring your face before his, his body looming over yours, the threat of falling now spreading to both of you. "But you have to earn being pulled up."
"Mad… you're mad!" you could only hiss at him, the weight of your body slowly starting to hurt around your neck as gravity tried to pull you to your death. You winced when you felt your last remaining foot propped against the platform slip. 
"Madly in love, perhaps, Cariño, but you've been very naughty back at the station, copying and inserting codes as you please, not listening when I told you to stop and interrupting me. You know I hate it when you go against everything I try to do for you."
"Okay!" you relented, admitting to his accusations. If that was enough to get your feet on solid ground again, you'd do it. "I'll listen now, okay?! I promise! I'll be good! I'll try to do better, just… pull me up, okay? Please? Please, Miguel?"
There were a few moments of silence, a few moments too long as your foot kept slipping away, your body shaking in his grip that you didn't know if he'd keep on you or let go any second now. His eyes merely drilled into you, trying to see if you meant what you said or were lying again. You couldn't imagine anything but horror and your lost pride reflecting in yours, but his expression softened ever so slightly as he looked at you, and for the sake of not plummeting to your death, you ignored the goosebumps returning when you noticed the affection in his eyes.
"Bésame."  
Inwardly, you were fuming. For him to take advantage of your situation was the shabbiest thing you never expected him to do. But you should have! Shameless and mad as he was, you should have known better than to trust he'd help you without gain in your moment of need. Infuriated, you grimaced, the tears burning in your eyes as did every ounce of shame you felt about having to stoop so low as to survive. Maybe you hadn't hit rock bottom yet, but the decision between kissing him and falling to your death was as bad as could be. 
"Fuck you!" you hissed angrily.
"No? That's fine then–"
Miguel tried to play it cool, shrugging his shoulders and averting his gaze as if he truly didn't care. As if he wasn't the obsessed freak you knew he was deep down, broken from his experiences and unable to act like a reasonable human being anymore. His grip on your throat loosened ever so slightly, your body sinking lower, pulled by the weight of gravity. Dread, fear, and horror spread through you, but the adrenaline also brought forth the last bit of pride and spite you had in you. 
What he didn't expect were your hands shooting forward, nails digging into the flesh right above the collar of his suit before he could get too far away. Miguel's eyes widened as you tipped the scales, pulling him forward, both of you tumbling over the edge. "What are you–?!" he started to argue when you managed to wrap your arms around his strong neck, his hands pressing into your back as he instinctively enveloped you in his arms. As scary as the situation was, Miguel would never allow any harm to come to you. At least not harm that he wasn't responsible for. But what really caught him off-guard were your lips finding his in the middle of the fall.
The kiss seemed to drag on for a small eternity, as if time had stopped in Miguel's favor. You had closed your eyes, making everything so much more bearable as you didn't allow anything to break your lips from his. No pause, no air, nothing was to get between your mouth and his, not even the shock of you two landing on the ground, you in his arms while the metal bent under his feet. Only when he roughly pushed your back into a wall did you allow a gasp to escape, enough time for Miguel to deepen the kiss finally, prying your lips open to slip his tongue inside.
You had always cringed at the term 'tongues battling for dominance' in the fanfiction you read about your favorite characters from shows and TV, but now that you were caught up in a real battle with Miguel, you made no show out of fighting him off, trying to push his tongue back to where it came from… and failing miserably. It had been dangerous to awaken a sleeping beast, giving Miguel something he couldn't get easily but wanted desperately. A kiss was as good as a death sentence to you, but for him, it was heaven incarnated in the little pleasure of having a taste of your lips.
You had no time or thought left to share about your surroundings, about what other people might think, and neither did he. All that mattered to each of you was control now that the upper hand was out of both your reaches. He had told you before that only you had the power to ruin him. That your actions would either make or break this man called Miguel O'Hara. But he wasn't going to make this easy for you. You had surprised him just now, overshadowing that he won a kiss from you. But it was what followed that would make the loser regret not trying harder to win, which kept both of you more than motivated. After all, it was your will against his.
Forcing out a moan many men would die for, you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling him tense and flex underneath your touch. You felt the bulge rubbing against your sex, Miguel not even trying to hide it but jerking when you ground into it. Your hands roamed up and down his arms, nails scratching over his skin as the fabric gave way to your feisty caresses, and Miguel staggered on the spot, pressing up against you even more. A win for you, nonetheless, as his knees were growing weak when you hugged him closer to your body.
When he pushed you forcefully into the wall behind you, however, you had to wince, his fangs getting stuck on your lips, drawing some blood. It was just a moment of being unfocused, and he had turned the tables. His win. 
Sooner or later, one of you had to pull back. As your breath emptied into his mouth while his tongue pushed onwards, threatening to domineer, Miguel managed to focus all his willpower on withstanding the alluring call of your moans and feigned sensuality, you bitterly realized it would have to be you. With all his obsession and desire, he was slowly but surely devouring you, conquering the battlefield that was your kiss, not caring about the casualties he'd leave in his wake. It was very much like him to endure in terms of stamina and…
You couldn't keep up.
Coughing, you turned your head away, sinking into him and hiding your face in his shoulder, defeated. Immediately, he lowered his arms that he had used to cage you against the wall, exploiting the victory to embrace you tightly as he let out a shaky breath. Perhaps it only dawned on both of you then that he saved you from plummeting to death, the kiss having been a good distraction.
"Don't ever fucking do that again," he scolded you, the warning resounding loud and clear. 
Don't hurt yourself. Don't put yourself in danger, is what he actually meant to say, words that went unsaid but not unheard, even if they disgusted you. Let me protect you. I'll keep you safe—always.
"Don't count on it," was all you could reply to spite him, your voice muffled with your face pressed into his chest. Miguel let out a single, short, breathy laugh before shaking his head. 
"How can you be so stubborn?" he hummed, gripping the hair at the back of your neck and forcing your head back to face him. "Guess you still don't know."
"Know what?" you spit in his face with all the disdain you could muster, both of you very aware you were all bark, no bite after the fall, your knees surely caving in had he put you down on your own feet. Miguel returned your angry glare with haughtiness, a smile creeping on his face.
"Who is in control, Cariño."
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stayteezdreams · 6 months
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And His Name Was Death {Part One}
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Summoned
Plot: What happens when you accidentally summon death himself, and he decides he doesn't want to leave?
{Part Two}
Pairing: Death!Park Seonghwa x Gn!Reader
Requests: "I thought I saw something" + 'You meet Death himself, and he seems to have a crush on you.' + 'The creaking of an old door' + 'Accidentally summoning a demon while decorating'
Requested by: Anonymous; @tumbleboof and @amalialoved
A/n: yeah...I enjoyed writing these requests so much it turned into a series.
Warnings: Mildly suggestive content. Mentions of death (obviously)
Words: ~5.3k
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Joy radiated through you as you rifled through the various decorations you had picked up on your recent trip into town. You could never resist decorations, especially Halloween decorations.
Between the festive scented candles, candle holders, themed mugs, fake webs, and candy, your counter top was covered in your new purchases.
Your eyes drifted to the last bag as you delicately pulled it open. Lifting out the object wrapped in brown paper, you unwrapped. Smiling softly at the old book, you ran your fingers over it. It had clearly been heavily used and was obviously quite old. The cover was engraved with barely legible markings, in a language you guessed was Latin, or at least similar to it.
Flipping through the pages, your eyes scanned the various blocks of text you couldn't understand, as well as random sketched pictures ranging from plants, to weapons, and what you assume were various monsters.
When you had gone to the antique store, you didn't really intend to buy anything, but when you spotted the old book sitting on a shelf, somewhat hidden behind an old lock box, you felt almost drawn to it. For a moment it felt as though you recognized it, like it was yours, but obviously you had never seen it before.
When you picked it up, you couldn't ignore the desire to buy it that bubbled up, so you did just that. You convinced yourself it would be a good Halloween decoration, though it did cost more than the other decorations you had bought combined. Something you would be convincing yourself was a good idea for a while. Though you feared you would just end up regretting it later.
As you reached the last page of the book as you quickly flipped through it, you stopped as you saw two handwritten passages on the back cover. It was in ink but had obviously been written a long time ago.
You ran your finger over the top passage as you wondered what it was. It was written in another language, but you found yourself muttering the words out loud as best as you could.
When you finished the first passage, you felt a wave of dizziness wash over you and you closed your eyes, shaking your head softly as you opened them again. The dizziness passed, and you hummed to yourself. After a moment's thought, you figured it was because you hadn't eaten yet.
Your eyes drifted to the second passage, but before you could read it, you jolted as you heard a loud fluttering sound similar to wings coming from behind you. Looking back towards the hallway, you furrowed your brow.
'Did a bird get in?' You thought to yourself as you made your way cautiously towards where the noise had originated.
After checking every room and making sure no windows were open, you wandered back to the kitchen, no bird being found. You shook your head, thinking maybe it had just flown past the window and sounded like it was inside.
Your eyes locked on the book and you frowned, pausing in your steps. It was now shut, though you swore you hadn't closed it. As you walked back to the book, you felt goosebumps rise up your arms and neck.
Instead of opening it again, you set it up on the counter beside the cauldron candy bowl. After sparing it one more curious glance, you continued to set out the decorations, only stopping when there was a knock at your door. You grinned to yourself as you quickly padded towards the door, knowing your friends had arrived for an evening hangout.
One Halloween movie later, you all stretched and joked as Yeosang and Wooyoung argued over the next movie to be put it. San made his way to the kitchen to grab some more candy, and you heard him call out to you a moment later.
Looking back at him, you saw him assessing the old book, "What's this?"
You turned around and smiled, "Isn't it cool? I found it at an old antique shop. I thought it would make a cool decoration."
"It's creepy." Yesoang commented as he looked over to see what San had.
"That's the point." Wooyoung said with a scoff, causing Yeosang to glare at him.
Seeing San suddenly look back further into the house, you followed his line of sight. "What?"
He slowly looked back at you and shook his head a bit, "I thought I saw something."
You felt goosebumps rise up your arms again but ignored them. "I thought I heard something earlier, like a bird got in, but I couldn't find anything."
"Want me to look?"
"Sure." You said with a soft nod, watching as he made his way into the back of your house.
As you watched him disappear, you got an odd feeling in your stomach, like a knot starting to form. As you began to rise, feeling as though you should follow him, he came back out with a shrug of his shoulders.
"I didn't see anything."
"Huh." You plopped back down, feeling a bit of relief wash over you, though the knot in your stomach still remained.
"Maybe your house is haunted." Wooyoung teased making you roll your eyes.
Though, when you spared the book another glance, and your mind flashed back to it being closed when you swore you left it open, you almost believed his words.
As Yeosang put another movie in, after winning against Wooyoung in rock, paper, scissors, and San had his fill of candy choices, you tried to distract yourself from your wandering thoughts.
Your thoughts however were only distracted for a short time, as you caught onto an unfamiliar figure in the TV's reflection as the screen went black momentarily. It was only for a second, but you swore someone was standing right behind you.
Not wanting to freak yourself out, you slowly turned your head, finding that the room was empty behind you. You stared down the darkened hallway, as you felt as though you were being watched. Looking back at the book, you took in a deep breath.
"Are you sure there was nothing when you looked San?"
San looked over at you, noticing you peering back at the dark area of your house.
He frowned "Yeah I'm sure, why?"
"I don't know" You hesitated, "I just...got a weird feeling."
Yeosang had now paused the movie and he and Wooyoung looked back down the hallway as well.
San stood up tapping Wooyoung's leg, "Come on."
You looked over at them as they all stood up, "What are you doing?"
"We'll check everything, so you can feel better about it okay?"
You smiled at him as you stood up as well, "That would make me feel better."
He smiled and nodded as you all walked through the house, checking every closet and every room. Yeosang checked every door and window until you were satisfied.
You sat back on the couch with a sigh, "Maybe watching horror movies when I know I live alone isn't such a good idea." You joked, making the others chuckle.
"Or, maybe I was right." Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows and you smacked his shoulder. "Shut up! I do not want to think about my house being haunted Woo."
He chuckled, "Sorry, sorry. I'm sure it's not, I'm just joking."
"Come on, let's put in a more lighthearted movie. That will be better right?" Yeosang asked looking at you, and you nodded with a smile, grateful he wanted you to feel more comfortable.
Even with the house fully checked, you felt uneasy when the time came for the three to go home. You knew your house was empty, you knew you were safe, but something felt...off.
San gave you a soft smile, "You gonna be okay?"
You nodded your head, "Yeah, I'll be fine." It wasn't a lie, you hoped.
Throwing away candy wrappers and washing your drinking glasses, you started to feel a bit better as your house grew quiet. As you began to sing softly to yourself, your nerves began to settle even more. You really were just riling yourself up with stupid thoughts.
Creak
Your voice went silent and your whole body froze as the door at the end of the hallway creaked open.
Looking to your left, you slowly reached over, grabbing the heavy candle holder you had bought earlier in the day. Silently, you walked to the hall and turned the light on, seeing it empty ahead of you. The door was in fact open and you felt your heart thump painfully in your chest.
You let out a shaky breath as you slowly crept down the hall, peering into every room, until you finally checked the last room, yet finding nothing once again.
You cursed to yourself as you walked back into your kitchen. Scoffing as you set the candle holder down, you grabbed the book and stared at it.
"You're not really haunted, are you?"
"Not quite."
Gasping you dropped the book as you quickly grabbed the candle holder, spinning around you saw a man standing a few feet away. Chucking the candle holder at him, he dodged it, though barely, as he was surprised by your quick movements.
You froze for a second as the man looked back at you, surprise fading into a smirk, "Good reflexes."
Quickly reaching behind you, you grabbed a knife from the counter and held it defensively.
His smirked seemed to widen, "A fighter too."
"Who are you?" You asked boldly, though there was a waver in your voice.
He quirked his brow, "Shouldn't you know? You called me here."
He could see the confusion that crossed your face and his interest continued to pique.
"What do you mean?" Your grip tightened around the handle of the knife.
Tilting his head softly, his eyes drifted to the book on the counter behind you, "That little incantation you read earlier."
You quickly glance at the book, and your eyes furrowed more, "What?"
He furrowed his brow before he scoffed, "You have magic in your veins and you aren't even aware of it."
You were as far away from the man as you could get but fully cornered in your kitchen. Eyeing the counter, you knew you were fully prepared to vault over it if needed.
"What does that mean? Who are you?" You asked again, your voice holding more force than before.
"It means you are a child of witches. No matter how far back in your bloodline, only those with magic in their blood can use that book. And you summoned me."
"S-summoned?"
Your heart pounded in your chest as your mind went wild. This guy was crazy, or maybe you were crazy. Whichever one it was, nothing was making sense.
Slowly, the man smiled, showing his bright white teeth. Bowing to you, he peered up, and as his eyes met yours you could see they were now completely black. Your heart jolted with shock as you felt locked in place.
"And to answer your other question. I am Death." Standing straight up again, you watched as his eyes faded back to brown. "But, you can call me Seonghwa. It is the name I go by with humans."
"Yeah, I'm going crazy." You muttered, staring almost blankly at him.
He tilted his head and a soft smile graced his face. "Is that easier to believe?"
"Is it easier to believe I'm going crazy over the fact that I somehow summoned Death into my house? Yeah, a bit."
He grinned at your words before he moved to walk into your living room. You followed him with your eyes, taking the moment to move out of your kitchen and to an area you could easily make a break for it if needed.
Looking around he smiled, "At least I didn't get summoned by someone who wanted to use me, or trap me. Last time that happened- Well, it didn't work out very well for him."
A shiver ran up your spine at his words, and you spoke again, your voice soft, and showing your new fear.
"Are you going to kill me?
Slowly he looked over at you, and for a moment you saw what you could only describe as dejection.
"Do you want to die?" He asked slowly, making your breath catch.
You shook your head, "No."
He smiled again and you almost felt relieved. "Then no, I am not going to kill you."
As he looked back towards your living room, you watched him pick up a piece of chocolate and eat it. You took this moment to fully take in his appearance.
His black hair perfectly matched his fully black outfit, and you couldn't deny he was gorgeous, almost ethereal even. If he wasn't a stranger claiming to be Death as he walked around your house as if he hadn't broken in, you might be flirting with him.
Looking over at you, his eyes scanned you before landing on the knife still in your hand.
"That won't do anything by the way." He commented with a casual tone.
Your eyes fell down to the knife in your hand and you held it tighter. "You say that, but it makes me feel better."
His lip quirked up slightly, "Then keep it."
You glanced over at the book and recalled everything that had happened since you bought it. Noises, shadows in the corner of your eyes, the feeling of being watched, but never finding or seeing anyone. Maybe he really was telling the truth.
"Why- what is an incantation to summon death doing written in the back of an old book?"
He shrugged "Well, it's not just an old book, its a grimoire, a spell book for witches. And it belonged to the last man who summoned me. The one who trapped me." You could hear malice in his voice as he looked back over at the book and your chest tightened.
"The one you killed?"
His eyes fell on you and his brow quirked, "How do you know I killed him?"
"You implied it. Besides, you said you were Death." You quickly answered.
His lips curled into a smile you would normally find charming if he weren't so unnerving.
"Smart too." He hummed as he turned to face you fully, his eyes scanned you up and down, as something you didn't recognize flashed in his eyes.
He started to walk slowly towards you and a shiver crawled up your spine, you backed away, and your felt your heart drop as your back hit the wall. Lifting your hand you reminded him of the knife as you gripped it, ready to fight if needed.
He stopped right in front of you and you felt your breath catch. The tip of the knife was pressed to his chest, but he didn't so much as blink.
Lifting his hand, he reached towards your face, his fingers gently caressing your cheek.
"Brave, strong-willed, smart, and beautiful."
His touch was cold, but it felt nice, and you resisted the urge to let out a sigh. The thought alone jarring you. You should be afraid, you should be yelling, running, fighting, but you weren't.
You met his eyes and you were startled by the softness he held in his gaze.
"What do you want from me?" You asked, voice soft, just above a whisper.
He tilted his head ever so slightly as he admired your face, dropping his hand.
"I was going to ask you that." Stepping away from you, he walked over to your fridge, pulling it open. "You summoned me, though I now know it was an accident. What was it you told your friend? You thought it would make a nice decoration?" You could hear a note of amusement in his tone.
You watched him rummage through your fridge as you thought back on your conversation with San. So he really had been here in the house, unseen, invisible. You recalled the reflection in the TV and you shivered.
Silently you walked back over to the book, the grimoire, as he called it. Quietly flipping through it, you wondered if every passage was a different spell. And you couldn't help but wonder, if you summoned him could you maybe do more?
You glanced back up at him, seeing him investigating your left-overs. Setting the knife down, you continued to flip to the end of the book.
Finding the last passage, the one you had summoned him with, your eyes fell to the second half, the part you had not read aloud. If the first half summoned him, perhaps the second half-
Before you could even finish your thought, you were being pressed up against the counter, hands held down at your sides, as Seonghwa's chest was pressed against your own. His nose brushed yours as his eyes held an intense gaze with yours.
"Don't." His voice was strong, but you thought you heard...panic?
"Don't what?" You asked somewhat breathlessly, still startled by his quick movements. You hadn't even seen him step away from the fridge.
"Read it."
"Why?" You asked, a challenge in your tone. You already knew you had been right, and from his reaction, he knew you knew it too.
"Because I don't want to go."
You felt your gut twist at the sudden vulnerability on his face, the tone of his voice did show fear, and almost desperation.
"Wh-why?" You asked again, your tone softer this time.
You felt his grip on your wrists loosen, but he still held you against him. Seonghwa debated telling you, what if you were secretly cruel? Just waiting for the perfect moment to get your hands back on the book? But as he studied your gaze a bit longer, he saw the genuine curiosity, and kindness peaking through, he also saw concern. For him? He felt his chest clench.
No, you weren't cruel, you were something...else. Something that intrigued him more than he could fully understand just yet.
"It's been so long since I've come here without cause or instruction, I'd like to stay. Unless you demand something of me."
"Demand?"
"You summoned me, and because of that, you have some realm of control over me. So tell me, what do you want?"
You stared into his eyes and saw various emotions coursing through them. What had others who summoned him demanded he do? He was Death, so did that mean he was summoned to kill? And who? Innocent people? Evil people? What did the man who owned the grimoire before you do to him when he trapped him?
The more you thought of these possibilities, the more you could make sense of the emotions in his gaze. He was afraid, he was angry, he was tired. He wanted to be free.
You found yourself shaking your head. "I don't want anything."
Seonghwa studied your face for a moment, his eyes grazing over your lips longer than he fully intended. He let go of your hands as he let out a breath.
You would really wish nothing of him? You had a powerful, God-like being at your beckoning, and you wanted nothing?
A smile formed on his face. "Kind too. I'll add that to the list."
You felt a smile tugging at your lips, but you pushed it away. "So can you only come here when you are summoned?"
Seonghwa smiled. So you had finally accepted he was really Death. Now, you were curious. Usually he might ignore your questions and flee, but you were, more or less, setting him free. And, something made him not want to leave, at least not quite yet.
"Or to take souls to the Underworld. But most times, I can only stay for a short time. Until my bidding is done."
"And...are you the only Death? I mean, there can't just be you, right?"
"No, there are many of us. We are demons, a type at least."
Your brow furrowed, "I thought Death was supposed to be an Angel?"
"The original one was, yes. But Angels can only handle so much death before they are tainted by it. Demons are not."
You nodded as if you understood, but you only grew more confused by the second.
"I don't know why I'm telling you this so easily." He mused, his tone holding both curiosity and amusement.
"And I don't know why I'm not freaking out."
He smiled as a soft chuckle left his mouth and as you smiled in return, he felt his heart skip a beat. As he studied you his gaze almost became playful.
You felt your ears and neck growing hot, "What?" You asked, uncertain what to do under his gaze.
A smirk formed on his face, "I like you." He said matter-of-factly.
You could no longer ignore the heat that had risen up your neck, or the way your heart pounded in your chest. How and why did he make you feel like this, when you had been terrified not too long ago?
Before you could respond, you heard a knock on your door, causing you to flinch out of surprise.
Seonghwa glanced towards your door before he looked back at you. He tried to ignore the disappointment that filled his chest as you looked away from him. He hated interruptions.
"Your friend is back."
You looked from the door to him and he motioned his head for you to go. You slowly walked away, leaving the kitchen, and his line of sight, still uneasy due to his previous actions. He wasn't going to do anything to whoever was at the door was he?
Peeping out of the window, you saw San bouncing on his feet outside your door. You rose your brow as you wondered how Seonghwa had known it was one of your friends. And why were you referring to him as Seonghwa like you knew him??
As you disappeared from his sight Seonghwa looked down at the grimoire before picking it up. It really could do you good, if you learned more about your magic. But, as long as that incantation was in the back, he couldn't let you have it. Not if you might change your mind about letting him stay.
He could hear you answer the door, and knew you wouldn't say anything about his presence. If you did, you would just sound crazy, and he wouldn't be here to prove that wrong.
"Hey! I left my phone in the living room." San said as soon as you opened the door, before he rushed inside "I gotta get it before Wooyoung drives off without me."
"Oh, I can get it!"
He chuckled "That's okay, I'll be quick!" He called back as he headed past the kitchen where Seonghwa was.
You followed him, fear spiking through you, what would Seonghwa do? What would San do? As you rounded the corner, you saw San grabbing his phone from the table, while the kitchen was empty, Seonghwa no where in sight. Your eyes landed on the counter and your heart jumped. He had taken the book.
San grinned at you, "Got it! Sorry, I'll talk to you tomorrow okay?!" He called as he jogged out of the house and towards Wooyoung's car as he sat impatiently out front.
You looked around, wondering where Seonghwa had gone. Had he really left? You walked swiftly through your house and didn't find him. He had taken the book and vanished. Of course he would. That was the smart thing to do.
Your thoughts swam for a moment as your eyes stared blankly at where the book had been.
Why wouldn't he leave? I didn't command him to do anything and he just wanted to be free. And he took the book...because I could use it to send him back to...well wherever it was he came from.
You knew he was smart for taking the book, but why did he leave? And why did your chest ache because of it? Was he going to come back? Or was that the first and last time you would meet the black haired demon? Would you see him again years down the road when you die? Were you really descended from witches?
Thoughts plagued you as you sat on the couch. How had your day gone from so normal, to so earth-shatteringly complicated in the span of a few hours?
Slowly, without really noticing, you started to sink lower into the couch as your mind slowed, exhaustion from the adrenaline of your evening. Giving into it, mind foggy, you lied down, accepting sleep as it washed over you.
Maybe this was all a dream, and I've been asleep the whole time.
That was the last coherent thought that crossed your mind. So lost in the fog of sleep, you could barely register the sound of wings fluttering nearby, or the sound of footsteps approaching you. The soft caress of fingertips across your cheek might have shocked you if your mind had been more alert.
As your body became weightless, you stirred for only a moment before you drifted into a deep sleep.
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When you woke the next morning the thoughts of the previous night rushed to your mind. There was no way that actually happened, right?
You sat up and looked down at yourself. You had never changed into your pajamas. In fact, you had fallen asleep on the couch, not in your bed. So, how were you in your bedroom now?
The image of Seonghwa appeared in your mind and your chest tightened.
It wasn't a dream, was it?
Walking out into your living room, your eyes scanned the room, before landing on the kitchen counter. Walking over you found the candle-holder you had thrown now sitting on the edge of the table. And the spot where you had placed the book was empty.
Would he come back? Should you wait?
No. No, I have a life, I can't sit and wait around for Death.
The sudden thought almost made you laugh. The thought would be more profound if it weren't a person you were referring too.
Deciding to get dressed and go to work, you tried not to focus on all of the new thoughts and questions plaguing your mind. But you found very little to distract yourself with. All day you looked around expecting to see Seonghwa watching you. Every time you heard the sound of a bird fly past your eyes darted around.
Was it just your mind that made you so paranoid? When every time you felt like you were being watched, or that someone was behind you even though no one was there. Was it just you? Or was it really him?
You weren't sure why, but you kept yourself so busy with work you stayed late. Then you decided to run errands that didn't even need to be done.
It was all because you were afraid to go home. But why, is what confused you. It wasn't that you were afraid he would show up, it was that you wanted him too.
You should be terrified, but you just wanted to know more. More about what or who he is. More about yourself and magic.
Was it morbid curiosity? Was it attraction to some form of darkness you didn't understand?
You hated that you couldn't sort your thoughts out. And all you felt was exhaustion by the time you finally got home. You ran out of things to keep you away, so you gave in.
As you stepped into your quite house, you looked around, checking each room casually before you let out a sigh and wandered over to the fridge.
He took the book, he is free to do what he wants, he's not coming back. Why would he?
Leaning down to look through the fridge, your whole body froze as the sound of fluttering wings came from behind you. Slowly, you stood up, before turning to peer over your shoulder.
You knew what you were going to see, but your heart still jumped as you set eyes on Seonghwa. He stared at you from across the room, a small smile on his face.
Slowly turning around, you closed the fridge as you stared at him in silence for a moment.
"And here I was beginning to wonder if you were ever real at all." You mumbled, trying to steady your heavy beating heart.
His small smile widened but he stayed silent.
Your eyes wandered to where the book had been and you met his eyes. "Wanted to make sure I couldn't send you back?"
He glanced to the kitchen counter and for a second you thought you saw guilt cross his face before he shrugged his head.
"Yes. Honestly I should have gotten rid of it last time, but I had no idea the incantation was written in the book itself."
"You could have just asked." You mumbled almost under your breath, and he noted the mild offense in your tone.
He looked you up and down and took a step closer before tilting his head. "Are you saying you wouldn't have done it?"
You laced your hands together behind your back as you kept eye contact with him. You walked away from the fridge and around the counter to face him straight on.
"I don't know. I'm still struggling to understand if this is all real or-"
"Or if you're going crazy?"
You nodded slowly as he finished your thought. Suddenly, he began walking towards you, you hesitated, only stepping back as he nearly ran into you. You let out a soft gasp as your back hit the wall.
You met his eyes in mild panic and uncertainty, but he simply stared into your eyes with a soft smile. His forehead nearly brushed yours as he got closer. Slowly, he lifted his hand and brushed his knuckles against the side of your face before cupping your cheek.
"Do you feel that?"
Your voice had vanished, but you nodded.
His other hand rubbed against your own before he laced his fingers through yours and held your hand.
"And that?"
You nodded again, your heart pounding so hard you were sure he could feel it himself.
He smiled before he slowly removed his hand and took a step back, "Then this is real, and you are not crazy"
Opening your mouth, you hesitated for second before you finally found your voice again. "Why did you come back?"
He stared at you for a moment before raising his brow.
"You took the book, I can't send you back, you're free to stay, just like you wanted. So why did you come back here?"
He kept his eyes locked with yours in silence for a moment before he hummed under his breath.
"I wondered that too, and I can come to only one conclusion."
You waited in silence, questioning him with your gaze. Your breath caught as he leaned forward again, closing the distance he had just put between you.
Seonghwa brought his face next to yours, as his breath tickled your ear.
"I want you."
Your eyes widened as you took in his words, but before you could respond a gust of air and the sound of fluttering wings caused you to flinch and blink in surprise. As you opened them again, he was gone, as though he had never been there at all.
You let out a staggered breath as the tension in your body released.
Taking everything in, you felt dizzy from the amount of thoughts passing through your head. But all of it came crashing down as you let out a bewildered breath and the only thing you could truly muster.
"What the fuck."
xx End xx
{Part Two}
Series Taglist Open
General Taglist: @otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669
Ateez Taglist: @soso59love-blog, @thunderous-wolf
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ilydottie · 10 days
Text
| Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby |
Pairings: Dottore x Gn!Reader
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Selfship Coded, Reader has Medical Trauma, Reader has PTSD, Reader goes by no pronouns, Dottore goes by He/Him pronouns, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Reader is mentally ill, Mental Health themes, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Dottore is bad at comfort, Dottore might be ooc and for that I apologize, Mentioned Medical Tests/Medical Treatment, Implied Medical Abuse (it’s not explicitly said, but yeah), Flashbacks, 1.4k words. 
A/n: I wanted to write out a little something like this for a while with Dottore, and so here we are. I kinda left this one with a sorta open ending, because I might want to do a continuation of it at some point. So, yeah! I hope you like this <3
Also title name is from this song.
Summary: You’ve avoided going to Dottore’s lab for over a year now and Dottore is set on finding out why you have the aversion in the first place. 
Tagging: @auphelia @fleur-de-leap @tighnarly
It had been a long time coming. You always did hate going to Dottore’s lab, avoiding it at all costs, and for a whole year you were successful in that. He never asked much of you and you did the same with him, but after a while things started to crack and crumble. It was around the time that work had started to pile up for him. He was always busying himself in the lab and you were always hell bent on avoiding him there. You didn’t mind the work he did, even when he talked about it you were fairly calm, but something about entering the heart of it all always made you anxious. 
This time of year he was normally occupied in the lab. Usually he’d leave you be, not press you further on the matter, but something seemed particularly off about you this time around. Sure, you were always on edge and fidgety whenever he talked about his experiments or anything having to do with his time in the lab, but he always figured you were just especially squeamish about that sort of thing. Not everyone could stomach that topic, after all. Although after some time and a little bit of reflection he realized that wasn’t and couldn’t logically be the case, at least not to that extent. 
He’d approached you about it beforehand but you brushed him off, remarked how it was nothing important and he needn’t waste his time with something such as that. Sadly that only furthered his concern and suspicions. Realistically if it were any other person he wouldn’t have cared half as much as he did with you, but he truly was stuck on the subject, and he was sure he could fix that problem of yours somehow. 
It was early morning, around two in the morning when Dottore managed to slip back into your shared room. He’d barely acknowledged your presence until he’d heard you slowly sitting upright in the bed to look at him.
“Long night?” You asked gently, a smile curving the corners of your mouth.
“Mmnh.” He replied. 
You made a spot for him on the bed as you watched him with half-lidded eyes. He slowly dragged his feet over to his side of the bed and climbed in, laying back and putting his arms behind his head with a groan of relief. He closed his eyes to rest his eyes before the inevitable happened, but of course, you were quite the chatterbox anytime he returned to you. 
“So..”  You trailed off. “How was it?”
His eyes remained close but his brows furrowed. “It was fine.” He paused, debating whether he should ask now or until after he’d had some rest. Ultimately deciding to ask anyway. “And you?” 
You snuggled underneath the covers and let a hand rest on his chest slightly. “It was okay, nothin’ special.” 
There was a comfortable silence hanging in the air before Dottore promptly decided to destroy it.
“I’d like you to come by the lab tomorrow.” He said firmly, his voice confident enough that it worried you.
Your hands trembled.
“Why?” Your voice shook as you turned to look at Dottore.
He sighed. “You’ve yet to have an exam since your arrival here and it’s about that time anyway.” 
Your fear was palpable, nearly making his own heart race. He could feel the way your body locked up upon hearing his request, or rather his demand. For, there was no way he was going to allow you to back out of it this time. It wasn’t a total lie, you did need a proper exam, especially considering the behavior you’d been exhibiting since joining the Fatui. You’d been unusually skittish around the subject of his work, a fact that Dottore used to methodically put the pieces together. He knew before he even asked the question what your aversion to his lab truly meant. 
He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. “I’ll send two segments to escort you in the afternoon, that should give you more than enough time to prepare.”
Silence.
“I understand this is quite uncomfortable but–” You quickly cut him off, something you’d never done. 
“No, Dottore, you don’t understand and quite frankly I don’t think you ever will.” You spat back.
Silence. This time the tension was thick, the atmosphere filled with uneasiness. Granted if he’d know you’d get so heated about it he would’ve never brought it up moments before the two of you were supposed to sleep. Neither of you were going to bed anytime soon. Oh how he regretted his decision. Perhaps the segment was right, but he’d never admit to that. Not a chance in hell. Although in hindsight he wished he’d thought this through a bit more before running headfirst into whatever happened at that moment. Upon first instinct he wanted to prove you wrong, state how it was something he could in time learn to understand, but he stopped himself. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but something made him stop and think about his next words carefully. 
“Well, enlighten me.” He replied, sitting upright to look you in the eyes. 
Usually he’d grin as he’d said those words but this time it was absent, and instead he looked like someone who wanted to learn. It was odd and unnerving to see him like that, but I guess it was his way of trying to comfort you. 
“I just…” You averted your eyes and looked at your hands before returning your gaze back to Dottore. “I.. don’t like doctors. I don’t.. trust them.” You admitted. Now, too anxious to look at him at all. 
Oh. How awkward, Dottore thought. 
“Hmm, I see.” He replied.
Another agonizing moment of silence. 
You fidgeted with your fingers, cracking your knuckles nervously. Your breathing gradually grew rapid as the memories and thoughts poisoned your mind like a dangerous disease. Fuck, how you hated it when you got like this. You remembered the words they said, the actions they took, the insane amount of times you endured the same fucking test. You remembered… everything, and you hated that the most. Squeezing your eyes shut you tried to will those thoughts and images away as tears rolled down your cheeks, but alas it was useless. 
Dottore placed a hand over your own, pausing for a second before rubbing circles against your skin with his thumb. It seemed to rip you from your turmoil momentarily, but it did not erase it. The sensation was comforting, more so than the other things he pushed himself to do in order to comfort you. Neither of you said anything, especially not Dottore. He didn’t want to risk saying something rude or offensive, or putting you in an even worse state, which was very likely. The silence consoled you in a way, rocking you into a peaceful sleepy state. So much so, that you let your guard down long enough to wipe away your tears and curl up in a ball beside Dottore. 
He was hesitant at first but ultimately chose to wrap a single arm around you. Dottore held you as if you were the most fragile of glass. It was as if he was terrified of shattering you and in a way he definitely was. Finally, you let your guard down long enough to hide, rest your head against Dottore’s chest and allow the tears to flow freely. Had it been anyone else he would’ve been incredibly uncomfortable, wouldn’t even consider doing what he did, but you were.. different. He wondered if he should say something, if a reassuring word would be beneficial in a moment like that, research would back that idea but he chose against it. Dottore couldn’t possibly risk ruining what little peace you could experience at that time. At the very least he owed you that small moment of relief, no matter how brief it was. 
He waited until you were fast asleep, curled up nice and close in his arms, then he brushed away a stray strand of your hair and tucked it behind your ear. Dottore glanced up at the door then back to you, smiling at you adoringly before kissing your forehead. He’d have to talk more about this with you tomorrow, and thoroughly, too. Dottore had planned on getting you to the lab whether you wanted to or not, but for some reason he had a change of heart. Maybe, it wouldn’t hurt to give you a day or two more to prepare, that was more than feasible, he thought.
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i-amm-mj · 10 months
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Sugar Daddy - NSFW
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Sugardaddy! Toji Fushiguro x female reader
Author´s note: Bad writing, i know. I´m trying to improve (my english too), don´t worry hehe 
You´ve never done this before. You never could do something like this… but the life of a college student can be quite harsh when lectures, homework, and all of that occupy every second of your time, and don´t even let you have a part time job or something that can help you cover your expenses.
You didn’t know what to do, you were desperate to say the least. So, when you asked to your roommate for options, and she immediately suggested that you should look for a sugar daddy, you almost had a panic attack. But that panic turned into curiosity, and two weeks later you met Toji Fushiguro. An incredible handsome AND rich man that had promised to give you everything you wanted at the cost of two or three nights per week due to his schedules.
The deal had started three months ago… and you are sure you´d started it before if you knew how happy you were gonna be in it.
Toji was amazing at making you cry while folding you in half, abusing your cunt with his dick so deliciously that all you were able to do was roll your eyes to the insides of your skull, blabbering “Right there, daddy” and “More, daddy. Please”. And of course, his abilities didn´t end there. He was also skilled with his tongue and his large, thick fingers.
You still remember the first time he had fingered you in his car. Two of his fingers deep in your pussy while his thumb circled your throbbing clit. No man had ever been able to make you moan so hard with just one hand. And his tongue? He had literally made you scream with it, tonguefucking you and sucking on your clit like a madman. You had memorized the way your fluids and his saliva had mixed on the counter of his kitchen, and how wet your pussy had been at the time, so much that his dick had entered you without any prep after that.
And yeah, you´d never done this before, and will never do, not if it wasn´t with Toji, because you were excellent right now. You´d never been so happy with the way a man fucks you, never had so much money in your bank account, or covered on the finest clothes and jewelry, and so pampered that you almost… ALMOST want to fall in love.      
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“Blame it on the Rain”- a Loki/F!reader story
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Summary: You and Loki Laufeyson can’t stand one another, and after one-too-many pranks goes awry in the midst of your ‘merry war,’ the two of you are punished with menial labor, and the weather reports are predicting a literal storm to supplement the one stirring within you…
After reading @joyful-enchantress lovely story about rain, I wanted to write one of my own.
Word Count: 2.8k Content Warnings: smut-adjacency, light angst, enemies-to-thirsty-af
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“This is the last damn time I put up with you two children and your goddamn prank wars,” Nick Fury grumbled under his breath, rubbing the sides of his head with his fingers, as if it would do anything to quell his headache.
You felt like you were standing before the school principal, your face and body covered in glue, paint, and other various renovation supplies. Standing next to you was Loki the Trickster, the loose cannon of the Avengers, equally coated in sawdust and paint. He was more composed in the moment than you were, but that was, perhaps, because he didn’t care about impressing Nick Fury the way you were, having only been on the team for a month, still training to keep your telekinesis in check.
“They were already falling behind on renovating that new security center, and now Stark’s gonna be pissed at all the money you cost him with your little tiff,” Fury continued, groaning and beginning to pace in front of you.
Loki let a smile unwrap on his face. “Perhaps the room needed an extra splash of color.”
“Watch your mouth, Laufeyson,” Fury warned. “You know I place most of the blame on you for this.”
Mockingly, Loki placed a hand on his chest and knitted his eyebrows. “Me? Oh dear, now why would you feel that way?”
You scoffed under your breath, careful to keep your head down. You couldn’t help but feel an inkling of satisfaction that your boss was choosing to target him instead of you.
“You have something to add, Y/N?” asked Fury, raising an eyebrow.
You quickly shook your head submissively. “Only that he started it.”
“A skillful defense…for a little girl,” Loki replied, the snark in his voice thick and rich with pride.
“It’s the truth, you simpleton,” you answered back. “You’ve had it in for me since Day One!”
Loki smirked. “Maybe it’s because I find you entertaining?” he asked tauntingly.
Ignoring the slight shift in his posture, standing taller to assert dominance over you, spreading his legs slightly apart, you gritted your teeth in response. “Maybe I’m not here to entertain you in the first place—”
“—sweet tap-dancing Christ on a cracker, will you both shut up so I can punish you?” Fury raised his voice, silencing both of you. You bit your lip, but Loki only increased the intensity of his eye contact with Fury.
“Look, if you’re gonna mess up the entire compound with your bullshit, you could at least clean up a little. The quinjet needs a washdown, and they’ve been putting it off. So guess who gets to spend the afternoon taking care of it, kids?”
You rolled your eyes despite yourself. The damn thing would likely take upwards of a whole afternoon to wash, especially seeing as the last time it was used, it had nearly been washed away in a mudslide. You just knew the aircraft was crusted in dried dirt, mud, and woodland brush.
Loki looked at you, the wiseass smirk never leaving his face, only irking you further.
“I’d advise you both to get on it,” Fury added. “If I can’t see every wrinkle in my face in that damn jet by sunset, I’m going to use both of you for my office furniture for a month, got it?”
“He threatens us with a good time,” Loki said, winking at you. “I cannot wait to begin!”
Groaning, you shrugged and spun on your heels to leave in a huff before Fury and Loki could see that you were beginning to get flustered in a different way by the latter’s attitude.
You almost refused to admit it to yourself, but you knew you secretly had the hots for your Asgardian co-worker. How could you not? The windswept raven hair that always seemed to have a sheen to it, the tall, regal gait with which he carried himself into every room, the broad shoulders, the strong torso, the intense eyes, the jawline so hard and defined that he could cut a diamond with his chin, the way he seemed to think of leather pants and tunics as ‘casual wear,’ all of it only made you want to scream in his face more, if only to catch a whiff of his breath (you were pretty sure it would smell like wintergreen for some reason)…the list of reasons you wanted to hump him into next week went on and on.
If only he wasn’t such a goddamn babe, it’d be easier to hate him, you thought to yourself as you went back to your room upstairs, deciding that if you were going to spend the afternoon doing menial labor with the god, you may as well shower and make yourself ready for him.
Or, rather, make yourself ready for the psychological task of holding your own against him, for you got the feeling that Loki Laufeyson was already planning to torture you further once you began your sentence…
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The skies to the west were darkening, ominous billows threatening to render your task more difficult.
Maybe the rain will take care of it, and we’ll be done by supper?
Alas, Loki wasn’t far behind you, and when he appeared on the roof, he too, noticed the storm clouds, but with another one of his Cheshire Cat grins. Fuck, you thought, stop showing me those perfect teeth so I can focus!  
He carried a bucket of suds in one hand, two sponges and a towel in the other, but it was what he was wearing that you noticed after his luscious smile.
It was as if he’d read your mind, and the ensemble he’d chosen for the task at hand was a loose white cotton tunic on top, cinched at the waist by a wide golden belt at the hip, and his tightest black leggings underneath. He’d smartly chosen to forgo his leather boots, but the fact that he stood before you barefoot somehow only added to the Harlequin Romance Coverguy getup. He’d scooped his hair into a low braid to keep it away from his dreamy face, exposing that he had two tiny golden hoops in his earlobes (you had no idea he had pierced ears…goddamn!).
“Well, well, fancy meeting you here,” he said, his voice low and steady.
You twisted your lip to keep your uninterested façade. “When you step on a shard of glass later, I’m going to laugh so loudly that Thor will hear me all the way in New Asgard,” you said snarkishly, noting the bare feet.
Loki chuckled, shrugging and sauntering up to you, lowering the bucket of soap. He then used his newly-freed hand to reach out for yours, and in spite of yourself, you let him take it, opening it so that your palm faced up. You let Loki place one of the sponges gently in it, his gaze never leaving yours.
“I get the feeling I’m going to be a distraction,” he added. “And with rain approaching…”
You looked over at the looming clouds again, which were only growing in height and hue as they approached. You could feel a cool wind precede the front, and the closer the weather came, the more you could feel your skin tingle.
“I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised that you aren’t fond of rainfall,” you replied. “I hear that your kind melt when hit with water.”
He nodded back. “I suppose you think that’s a ‘touche,’ eh?”
“It’s an invitation to get started before I drown you in the soap bucket, Loki,” you snapped.
Deciding that tempting yourself with glances at Loki as you worked would be a bad idea, you decided to start working on the wheels and undercarriage while Loki climbed onto a wing. This way, catching glances at him would be more difficult, and you could possibly finish before the rolling clouds soaked you.
After thirsty minutes, the storm clouds obscured the sun, darkening the skies dramatically, making you sigh with exasperation. Even though the previous half-hour had been spent in silence, you still had so much further to go on the jet that, at this rate, you would need Noah’s Ark to go back inside.
Yet, the cooling air felt fresher, cleaner, as the weather changed. A pluviophile at heart, rain was always your favorite kind of environment (at least when you didn’t have to perform forced labor underneath it). As a child, it was the sense of chrysalism you got from a summer shower that appealed to you, sitting in your warm room, watching the storm release itself outside of your window. As you grew up, you learned that few things in life gave you more pleasure than to walk through a downpour, or watch one from your open porch, letting the wind caress your face, making you feel replenished by the time it passed. The sound of droplets plopping on the pavement, or tapping on your window, was one of the few things that could put your anxious mind to sleep at night.
The wind picked up as you finally finished the underside of the plane, and moments later, the first droplets landed on the tarmac. It was a warm enough summer’s afternoon, so the moisture was welcome on your face, hopefully soon to wash the sweat from your forehead.
Another few moments went by before the storm properly found you, and the true torrent of the tempest finally arrived, like a showerhead you couldn’t turn off.
“Oh dear,” you could hear Loki chime from the atop wing, the loud roar of the increased wind and falling water drowning out his much of his voice. “I suppose you’ll want to come inside and wait out the weather—”
“—fat chance, Laufeyson. We are finishing this here and now!”
“Then you could meet me up here and give me a hand,” he said sarcastically. “Or are you afraid of your hair being ruined?”
You were already climbing a ladder onto the wing to meet his challenge, and just as the rain began dropping at a more consistent tempo, you clambered on top, your hair just beginning to dampen with the precipitation, your cheap eyeliner blotting and smearing.
Loki took one look at you and let out a hearty laugh. “You look like a wet raccoon! Or a clown that fell into a pond!” he chuckled.
Twisting your lip at the insult, you took a moment to think about how to reply, perhaps to trip him or throw him right off the wing…then you got a solid look at your adversary through the raindrops, which were nearly coming down in sheets already.
The white tunic was plastered to Loki’s chest, his nipples already perking enough underneath the thin fabric that you could see the pinpoints on his torso where they were appearing. His loose braid was nearly undone, the dark tendrils of his hair stuck to his face, framing it with unnatural perfection. Of course, his leggings were already as tight as you could fathom, but even now, they seemed more form-fitting, especially around the groin and ass (of course!, you thought woefully).
Ryan Gosling in The Notebook looked like a soggy sheepdog in comparison. Before you now was chiseled, dampened perfection.
And he knew it.
“Ahh, that feels wonderful doesn’t it?” Loki sighed, bringing his hands up to rake through his hair, unknotting the braid and letting it go loose.
“Are you done with this side yet?” you bit your lip, trying to make your arousal look like annoyance.
Loki shook his head. “I’ll admit, I haven’t been doing much up here for the past hour,” he confessed.
You groaned, taking your sponge and chucking it at him. He surprised you by snatching it out of midair, a cocky grin unfurling across his lip.
“Look, neither of us wants to be out here, and now I’m going to get sick tomorrow, so can we just cut the shit, and do our jobs?” you barked, slowly making your way across the top of the wing. Just as you got within arm’s length, you felt your shoe slip on the wet metal underfoot, and Loki was barely able to catch you as you stumbled forward, directly into his arms.
“I…uh…” you said, quickly attempting to recover and pull away.
He didn’t let go of you.
“What do you think?” he asked, his voice lowering, gaining a seductive quality you had only daydreamed about.
“Of what?” you asked, still irritable.
“Does the ‘wet look’ suit me?” he asked, releasing you so that he could bring his hands up to his collarbone, indicating his wet shirt but gently running his long fingers over his hard nipples and down his abs, indicating what he referred to. “You haven’t taken your eyes off of me.”
You growled, quickly losing track of any sanity or dignity you held on to. The rain, the warm wind, the sopping-wet god who may as well have been—
“—my apologies, but no use in keeping this on now,” he continued, stepping back from you, swiftly bringing his arms over his head and taking off the soaked cloth, tossing it aside with one move, leaving his chest bare and shining.
Jesus fucking tap-dancing Christ on a cracker, you thought.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” you began, before Loki closed the gap between you again, mumbling a surprisingly-gentle ‘ssh,’ and placing a finger over your lip to silence you.
“I’m making your daydreams come true,” Loki answered. “And don’t bother denying it any more, I know how much you want my cock inside you.”
Lips trembling and heart racing, Loki’s sensual suggestion sent your brain buzzing as he teased.
“You know everything about me, do you?” you said softly, Loki’s finger still on your lip, tracing the bottom one lightly as you spoke.
Loki purred. “Oh, how I’ve observed you so closely these past weeks…I know how many hairs you have on your head…”
Well, I bet you won’t expect this…
Before he could react, you parted your lips and took Loki’s finger into your mouth, letting your tongue roll over it, gently sucking, and looking up at him with dramatic bedroom eyes.
Now, it was his turn to go “I…uhh…”
When you finally released his finger, you finally returned his mischievous smile with your own. “The rain gets me hot,” you said quietly. “Don’t think it’s your body that draws me in, Loki.”
“Ah, I see! We’re blaming it on the rain now. That way, after I drag you inside this jet to fuck you senseless, you can still deny any feelings for me later!”
“Why bother dragging me inside? Let’s end this now,” you replied, taking one of Loki’s hands to the collar of your tank top, encouraging him to bring it down, exposing a breast to the rain. The water was warm on your face, but it was somehow chilly against the tender skin of your chest when you exposed it.
“Take me here,” you demanded.
Loki loomed ravenous, ready to take a bite out of you. “With pleasure…”
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Shaking your head, the daydream fell apart like a crumbling sandcastle, with nothing but the remains of your fantasy puddling at your feet along with the rain. Still underneath the wing that your co-worker was on top of, you snapped back to reality.
You’d always daydreamed vividly, but this almost seemed too real, and you knew that at least your arousal was real.
“Y/N?” you could hear Loki call from above you. “Do you intend for me to do all the work out in the rain while you stand down there looking off?”
You sighed sadly, wishing everything had been real. As you went to head over to the ladder, you could hear the door to the roof open from behind you.
“Hey, you two need to come inside quickly,” called Natasha. “There’s a situation we need to take a look at.”
“Coming!” you called, satisfying Nat enough that she ducked inside instantly, possibly trying to avoid being splashed by raindrops.
You heard Loki chortle from above you. “Coming? I bet you wish you were at that…”
You rolled your eyes as he laughed, your gaze landing on the ladder. Smirking, you quickly slammed it shut and turned it on it’s side. It was light enough that you were able to sling it over a shoulder, and you were sure to take your time showing it off as you walked towards the door, purposefully swinging your hips.
Loki looked surprised as you looked up at him one more time, sopping wet, trapped on the wing of the quinjet, before you flashed him your middle finger and went inside, shutting the door behind you.
He chuckled to himself and shook his head at the trick. Oh, but I had the last laugh, he thought. She’ll be driven mad with need at the sight of me for weeks after I projected that little rainy day fantasy into her mind!  
Smiling, Loki threw back his head, looking up into the rain with pride, wondering how long it would take for you to realize that your erotic daydreams were always his doing…
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Just tagging a few mutuals who may enjoy...please reblog if you like it!
@joyful-enchantress @lokisgoodgirl @coldnique @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @holdmytesseract @fictive-sl0th @mischief2sarawr @glitterylokislut @sarahscribbles @silverfire475 @simplyholl
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finn-writes-stuff · 2 months
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Hiii~ I saw your requests are open for Baldur's gate and I was wondering if you can write a one shot about wyll when tav/reader gets injured...
Thank u so much<3
Reckless
After a risky play in a battle and a temporary death, Wyll takes care of you.
Wyll Ravengard x Reader
Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3
Format: Oneshot
Gender Neutral Reader
Masterlist
Not to go insane about a man on main (Lying) but god I love him so much. The genuine hero archetype is so good and sweet.
No matter how long you had been adventuring, the poisoned sting of a goblin arrow never hurt any less. A lucky shot from an archer up above you, you hissed as it sunk into your shoulder. This had been a long battle, with your enemy calling in unexpected reinforcements, and your whole party was running out of health and energy.
A crackle of magic whipped past you and crashed into the archer's chest. Their rattling yell as they were knocked down let you know they were taken care of, and you were free to turn and grin at your savior, rushing to his aid in return.
Wyll had his own group of goblins he was trading blows with, his rapier clashing against another blade as you reached his side. He was better off health-wise than you were at the moment, but his shot at your attacker had cost him precious time to fend off the group.
"Thanks for the save!" You called gratefully as you dived into your own attack, trying to take out the enemies that seemed worn down.
"I've got you," he called back, ducking away from another blow. "But we need to get that ritual stopped, do you have any way to break the circle?"
Doing your best to run through your options as you danced back from a sword, you grimaced. Everyone was out of spell slots by now, and other resources were too limited to spare on a goblin ritual.
Or maybe not. As you shoved a hand into your bag, your hand fell upon a smoke powder bomb, one you had almost forgotten about.
"Yep! I can do it, Wyll! Just keep me covered," you said, already sprinting towards the ritual circle.
"The Blade provides," he laughed, carving down a goblin trying to slash at your retreat. "Do try to keep close then, love."
"It's on you to keep up," you shot back, relishing in the banter and the adrenaline of the fight. You needed to get close to set this off to maximum effect, with the arrow in your shoulder, you couldn't throw the bomb at a distance with any certainty. You just had to get close enough to toss it and back off before it set off. A piece of cake.
Not quite a piece of cake, you realized as you had to dodge and dive around goblins, hearing your companions slashing and seeing the familiar crackling red energy knock down enemies trying to rush you. But the day that a battle went smoothly would be the day Avernus froze over.
The attackers in your way didn't manage to get any solid hits on you, but they did succeed in slowing you down, enough so that you saw magic rising from the circle, pulling up like walls around the caster in the centre. Shit, if they got this spell off, that would be deadly. You barely took a second to think before diving in, crashing to the ground over the circle with the bomb in your hands.
The bomb that did not take kindly to the hard landing and magical heat around you. This was going to hurt. A lot.
Your last thought before being thrown back by the explosion was that at least the magic walls should contain the blast enough so that it didn't catch the rest of your party.
---
Being revived always hurt like hell. Feeling your heart forcefully start back up and your injuries repair themselves under magical guidance was excruciating when it was done quickly. You came too coughing up blood and was that a tooth? You hoped not, but if it was could the healing magic replace it?
Your thoughts were ended quite quickly by a familiar face dropping into your view as Wyll knelt in front of you, grabbing your face to look you over. His touch was so gentle, even as he turned you back and forth, and his sword callouses ran over your skin.
"Gentle? Yes, I'm trying my best, love," he replied, clueing you into the fact that you'd spoken aloud. Maybe the healing magic hadn't quite finished its work.
But it was hard to complain when he was so close to you like this. Carefully pulling you up to your feet and leaning you into his side as he watched you blearily gain your balance.
"Alright, no, we're not making you walk back to camp like that," he said, steadying you. "Let me carry you? I promise I won't drop you on the way there."
All it took was a nod for him to slip his arm under your knees and behind your back and scoop you up into a bridal carry. His arms were steady and you had the impression this was not the first time he had done this. Perhaps it was a staple of daring rescues in his past.
You giggled at the thought, resting your head against his chest and he looked down at you with concern. "You alright there? I'm a little concerned you got a concussion that hasn't been healed."
"Perfectly fine. But you must answer me honestly. Are you Prince Charming?"
"Alright, I'm quite concerned you got a concussion." He didn't bother to hide his smile though, keeping you steady against his chest. As you let your eyes drift, you heard him say something softer, not the brash and heroic Blade of the Frontiers, but just Wyll. "Don't do that to me again, love. You terrified me."
"It worked, didn't it?"
"I would rather swordfight that whole group at once than see you blow yourself up like that again. I was worried you would shatter yourself too much to be brought back." His pace was steady as he carried you, keeping you from jostling or rocking around too much even on the uneven ground. "Be careful for me?"
"If you'll be careful for me," you murmured back, leaning easier into his chest. It was all too easy to fall asleep in his arms.
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granolawriting · 8 months
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ Just a few drinks: A Joel miller x reader (18+)
Summary: A complicated Joel gets tipsy at the same bar you're at. And when you try to leave, he's not keen to let you leave alone.
Tags to note: brief enemies to lovers, dom!Joel, petnames (tame), age gap (a given), uncharacteristic drunk
A/N: my first work for Joel, hello TLOU readers :)! leave me a message if you have any ideas for anything else I could write about <3 enjoy
word count: 3.3k
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Another clash of wood and hardened glass echoes throughout the small bar as you look over to see another shot downed by him. 
There was some sort of drinking game, transpiring between him and his brother, though you’re one to care less. The sound of the noise, the groans that escaped him, and the slurred words that you heard coming from his companion were enough to anger you enough to want to shut them out at all costs. But, that was difficult since there wasn't really heavy pickings of what could constitute a bar in the state of things. They make do, they supply liquor, and it's too good an offer for you to let up. 
You and Joel, have a bit of history, to say the least. Having worked side by side begrudgingly at certain points, all you’ve discerned from him is that he's good for nothing, at least when it doesn't involve his own self-interest. And sure, that's been a while ago since now but I doubt he's got any change in him. He's not the kind of man to change, and the entire time you’ve known him he's been an asshole to you, and right back to him have you been an asshole right back. 
Another loud clunk interrupts your thoughts once more, and as it does you say the first thing that comes to mind. Raising yourself from your seat exclaim; 
“Do you mind shutting the fuck up? Some people don't want to hear you getting drunk the whole night.” 
It escapes your mouth without another thought. Quiet murmurs are shared around the room as all eyes are on you, including the dark brown ones that now meet your gaze. 
Joel is a rough-looking man, about 30 years your senior, with salt and pepper hair slightly overgrown upon a tan face, littered with scars and an omnipresent pout upon his face coated with a layer of hair for his beard. His body is quite muscular, in a way that tells many stories with every muscle group providing a specific purpose to his very private, lone adventures or so you’ve come to learn. Covered only with a weathered plaid shirt rolled to his elbows, and equally worn jeans with shoes that have seen miles before your conception it was safe to say that he was decently experienced. You could tell just by looking at him. 
But as he looked at you, you felt increasingly vulnerable at the sight of him eyeing you. Studying you. The seconds seem to pass like hours as he musters something to say in reply, 
“How’s bout you make me then, sweetheart?” 
Words that slur slightly from the mouth of a man clearly tipsy renders you speechless. A smirk upon his face that was uncharacteristic for his usual brood, you were flushed at the sight of it. This bold flirting wasn't something you were used to, and discerned it was a way to catch you off guard, and nothing more. You decide not to give him any more attention that he seems to want, and with a sucking of your teeth, you sit back down in your chair to have your back partially face him once more. 
The night drags on as they seem to listen, but only partially. The clinks were still able to be heard, and if you tried hard enough you could tell which one was drunker. Not ideal, but it seems your words did at least a little bit of damage. Though ever since that moment, you felt as though eyes were on you most of the night's end. But as you gaze up at the moonlight shining from the window of the bar, it's decided that it's more than time enough to head back to your apartment. You didn't have anywhere to be the next morning, but you also didn't have the idea of listening to their nonsense for the next unknowable hours haunt your mind as you tried to think otherwise. 
Lifting yourself up from your seat once more you casually walk out of the bar expecting nothing more than a simple walk home, but clearly, why would that ever happen to you? You make it a meer 12 paces out from the bar before you hear a raspy voice yell to you; 
“Where’rya goin hm? We already miss our audience.” 
“Home, Joel. And you should too. You’re making an embarrassment of yourself.” 
“Aww but where's the fun in that hm?” 
You hear shuffled legs grow louder along the dirt as they make their way closer to you.
“Just shut up and leave me alone. I don't care where you go.” 
Your responses were short and crass. Just like he was to you every time but what seems to be this exact night. 
“I already told ya, sweetheart, you’re gonna have to make me shut up. Haven’t so far yet have’ya?” 
He purrs in a voice you can tell is laced with a smirk just by how he said it. 
“You’re sick, Joel. What the hell do you want from me?” 
You pivot your feet by the end of that question and turn around to watch him close the few feets gap between you two. 
“Kiss me” 
“What.” 
“I said kiss me. Sure that'll make me shut up” 
You stood shocked for a moment. This wasn't the Joel you knew, this wasn't the man who would bump into you during patrols because he didn't think you were awake enough. This wasn't the Joel that would work for whoever gave him the cash, and this especially wasn't the Joel who barely ever spoke. Especially to you. This was a man you did not recognize standing in front of you, intoxication peppering his cheeks red and he looked upon you, and an unrecognizable gaze in his eyes fixated on you. When you looked at him during this moment, he was almost handsome. Alluring. You'd never looked at him this way before, never given him the time of day but as you stood there. Basking in the moonlight and allowing its glow to reflect off of his skin there was something enticing about it. A yearning to feel the muscles coating his arms, a craving to feel his calloused hands around your body and above all-- an unshakeable desire to do exactly what he just asked of you. But you couldn't, not so easily, not so simply you can't just disregard everything that's happened between you two you don't like him god damn it! Why is he acting like this, why; 
“Why the fuck would you want me to do that hm? Is this some bet for you and your buddy inside? Well, consider me not interested. Go kiss some other bitch.” 
You were proud of your rebuttal, repressing your urges wasn't hard for you, but for something like this, it seemed especially difficult. Though, without skipping a beat a Joel who seems to have only heard the first half of the question states through persisting smirk; 
“Well why wouldnt’I want to, darling? Just look at you. You're close to one of the finest things I've seen here in a real long time. Ain't nothin’ wrong with askin now is there?” 
The way his eyes dug into yours, the way he seemed to pierce yours with the unshakeable gaze only a drunkard full of liquid courage could attain. You were at a crossroads. You felt in your heart you weren't to be made a fool of if you did do this, from the pure hunger in his eyes you’re sure a kiss would be more than covered by that, but another part of you didn't want to give him this satisfaction. The flattery of his attraction to you was one thing, but to allow him to indulge in it on some one-off drunken night isn't really the reputation you want to have. You 
Before you can process your next move, you watch him start walking away from you, and into the bar. 
“Well, I’ll be seein you then.” 
Lowly uttered with that raspy voice of his was about it for you. You couldn't be logical anymore, you wanted him and that was final. Before he can move another step you pull him towards you in a kiss. Tasting what you'd craved for what seems like your whole life between your lips you feel his smirk grow into a larger smile as he embraces you for more than a single kiss. 
Soon a kiss turns into two, then six, then every other number that falls between the start and the first gasp of air between you two. And as you gasped for air you heard that same rugged voice whispered within your ear; 
“Sure did shut the both of us right up, didn't you? Good girl.” 
At this point, you were nothing but a flurry of emotions, all for him, all about him, all craving him. And as his hands trailed from your waist to your jaw, holding your soft skin within his calloused fingers as he yearned for more of your kiss like he'd been needing it his whole life. He was rough, sloppy, and needy with how he held you. Strands of your hair caught in his fingers as he gripped your face, all you could do in return was lay your arms over his shoulders and grip at his hair all the same. You were desperate for him, passionate to say the least. 
You wanted more, and you could tell he did too. And as this fact was exchanged between dilated, impassioned eyes he offers, no, tells you; 
“My places about a block up the street. Follow me.” 
Butterflies invade your stomach at the prospect of what he just said. His demand, even to bring you home implies things that can't be done just steps away from an open bar. And as every heavy step of his boot trails ahead of you, it feels as though thousands of miles are between you, and the door to his apartment. You felt like you couldn't walk straight, as though the taste of whiskey on his lips had seeped deep into yours, that you could barely think straight anymore. 
Though before you knew it there laid the door marked with his name, a sign it was his. Keys jingle as he fumbles with them all, finding the proper one after a moment's search and you hear the sound of an unlocked door parallel the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard, as your desperation grows incessantly. 
Before you can process it, Joel has you pinned against the wall adjacent to his front door, moving it closed with his foot as he begins his assault on your lips again. His hands trace all over your body now, from your hair, holding clumps of it in his hand as he kisses you roughly, or his hands finding their way on your waist, but beneath the layer of fabric that covered your stomach from sight. His calloused hands gripping onto your bare waist, feeling every groove between your body did you simultaneously learn the indents on every finger's unique callous. 
Sticking his tongue inside your mouth elicits a moan from you, and with that does he lift you from your legs as though you were nothing but a small toy. Without letting up for a moment, his hands wrap around your thighs, hoist you up and carry you to the top of his bed, where he swiftly drops you as a means to crawl on top of you. 
At this point, he groans at every slight movement you do, a bite to his lip, a tug to his hair, and most especially a quick deviation from his lips to trace his neck with kisses and bites was enough to buck his head back in frenzy. But as he straddles on top of you, arms and legs caging you in as his hands hold your wrists onto the mattress and his legs, much stronger than yours keep you inside his space he makes it clear that he wants much more. 
“God I can't fucking stand you darlin, you know that?” 
Words groaned almost into your mouth as you let up from another myriad of kisses, he steadies himself on top of you on his knees now, glancing down at you through uneven breaths. 
“You’re even better than id’ve hoped for eh? You don't fucking know how long it's been, you don't wanna know honey.” 
As he speaks his belt is undone by his hands, hearing the clank of metal drop on the floor next to his bed. 
“What do ya want from me now hm? I wanna hear it from’ya” 
He looks down on you with a much more purposeful, sadistic smirk as he awaits your words. Your beg, for him to fuck you. He knows what you want, he knows what he wants and he especially knows it's the same damn thing. But he gets off on having you say it, asking for his cock that you can feel throbbing right above you as he loosens his pants. 
“I,” 
You’re getting choked up on words, barely having caught your breath from what he’d just done to you, and even more choked on the words you have to say. 
“Be a good girl, and spit it out wontcha?” 
You buck your hips at that simple phrase, feeling his heat press against yours in the process are you even more dizzied by the simple touch of it through the fabric, the friction alone could drive you insane. 
“P, please Joel..” 
“Please fuck me.” 
The words almost moaned out of your voice as you take another chance to grind on his cock, taking in the friction, the pure size of it to get you off feels so easy and so intense. He chuckles slightly,
“I can't say no to a lady when she asks nicely now can I?” 
A voice even deeper than his usual is what utters that sentence, something deeply sexual has overtaken him. Bits seen in the way he treated you before but you feel like now that with a simple tonal shift, you’re being exposed to a well-versed, since-forgotten part of Joel. and as he takes his jeans off with ease, and yours with even greater-- letting them slide down your hips slowly as he takes in the unveiling of the rest of your body beneath him, you could tell that fact was more true than you could ever imagine. 
So there you two were, in but underwear to control how tense he was, and to withhold how wet you were. However that didn't last for long as he felt his fingers past the lining of your underwear to your heat; 
“God, sweetheart. All this for me hm?” 
And as he moves close to your ear, with a dark rugged tone,
“You want me cock so fucking bad don't you?” 
Lifting himself back up again to look down on you, his posture slightly bent to keep his hands feeling you up you can't do anything but moan and whimper over it. Grinding on his fingers that barely touch your clit you desperately ride him for any speck of sensation to overtake you. 
“I can't wait any fucking longer. God, you’re a sight don't ya’know that? When you're not talking up my ear, when you’re obedient, I can't fucking resist you darling.” 
He takes his fingers away from where they once were to your disapproving whines and begging with your body. Though soon after you feel something much larger than a finger feel your heat. His hands find your body once more but only to slide your underwear past your hip, and give his cock more room to feel the mess you made for it. 
Sliding it up and down your clit carefully, between your folds did you find the teasing unbearable. Feeling him twitching against you, hearing his groans at the slightest traction his cock would find between the wetness in between you, you couldn't do anything but moan his name. Asking him to please fuck you. 
After a few more pulses outside you, he lifts your legs to be upon his shoulders before going inside of you. His head knocked back in a deep groan as he slowly entered you, A bite to his lip and a feeling of tight grip around your legs was almost simultaneous as he finally gave himself exactly what he’d been throbbing for the moment he stepped out of that bar. Your legs shake at mere impact, feeling them suppressed by the grip of his rough hands around you, There's no more that you can do but grip the sheets covering the bed for some semblance of support through neverending moans as he goes out as slowly as he went in. 
“Fuck you’re perfect for me arent’ya” 
Escapes him through groans as he holds back as much as he can as he goes in and out of you. Savoring every inch of you by the pace of every pulse. Though as he reaches to a certain point, he stops flush against you, entirely inside of you. In the seconds he spent like that you could feel him absolutely fill you. He was perfect, just enough to hit the exact spots you never could yourself. But as he almost exits you once again he enters with a great deal more intensity. Quickness. He can't hold himself back anymore, and as the thrusts get more uneven and his groans become louder; clashing with moans that go in unison with every move inside of you you feel your whole body move with his cock. As he gripped you by your thighs and held your body to thrust into him, you felt every inch of himself through every nerve in your body. Every part of your body was coated with pleasure at the sight of him almost manhandling you like this. Sweating, groaning, panting, and cursing over how fucking good you felt made you feel like you were going to cum. 
And almost like he read your mind, he moves one of his arms to your clit, and places his thumb right on top of it; 
“I'm going to make you finish the same time as me, think you can do that darling?” 
He was close too, and you didn't care where he did it. 
As his words grow jumbled under mutters and covered groans of pleasure as his breath became unsteady at the feeling of you wrapped around him more and more as his fingers pleasured you even more than you can imagine, you feel yourself climaxing right on his cock, feeling your walls contract over him that felt so hard inside of you it made it feel even better to finish on. 
That was more than enough for him, as your screams for his name echoed through his walls he hammered straight into you, sweat coating his peppered hair as he watches you orgasm right below him, he groans your name with a final shove deep inside of you, letting his cum drip down every part of you. 
Slowly he removed himself from you, leaving behind a trail of white to seep down from inside of you, to the mattress you lay on. 
“You were such a good girl, I'll get us some stuff to clean up. Why don't you stay here a while.” 
Is whispered into the only ear uncovered as your head tilts to lay on the mattress in exhaustion, as gruff as ever but with a softness to his voice that bore kindness that felt so needed after a night like that. 
You stay lying there for a bit, as Joel goes to clean himself up then you, and then to gather some blankets for the two of you as you dip in and out of slumber. 
That night, of course, was the first of many nights thereafter. All underlying with the screams for his pleasure, and ended with his body wrapped around yours til night's end. And through that, he slowly warmed up to you. 
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ghouljams · 9 months
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Hello ! How are you doing ?
Thank you so much for sharing your work. Reading your writings has been so therapeutic for me, you have no idea how grateful I am about this. I’m going through a really rough part of my life, and I’m surrounded by sources of high stress that prevent me from relaxing even though I’m supposed to be on vacation with my mom. It makes me really sad and my anxiety is being a nightmare ; but it’s been so nice to run away through it all by reading your works. I’ve been binge-reading your blog ever since I discovered you a few days ago, and I’m in love. Thank you again.
Also ! I just got an idea.
What about PriZe, for Price’s demon’s name ? It’s close to his own name, but not the same ? Gathering intel, torturing their targets and easily claiming their « prized » info ? I don’t really know if it makes sense, I’m really bad at explaining things. But the idea just popped in my head while re-reading this and I just… felt the need to share it ? I really hope it’s okay.
What if the demon has the ability to just… literally dig through their victim’s brain to get any information they want, but it’s a very demanding power that requires them to be in full shape for them to use it properly, like after a good meal ? I imagine some targets are tough nuts to crack, even for a demon, so this method is used on them, albeit very sparingly, because our demon is always exhausted after using it. I see them acting like everything’s fine despite their entire body shaking like a leaf stuck in a storm, only allowing themselves to collapse in Price’s arms when the two of them are alone. Maybe Price gets a little soft, seeing how worn down their are, almost limp from the fatigue they’re trying to fight, and pampers them to get them to sleep ?
(I’m a sucker for powerful abilities with extreme drawbacks.)
Lots of love on you, Friend !
I like Prize, but I don't know if it quite fits what they do. At least in my mind. Price's name comes from the literal cost of acquiring information: they can see everything a target has seen for the price of that target's eyes, can hear for their ears, so on and so forth. Price can do just about anything "for a price". Something I think Capt. Price learned has to come from one of them early on.
That said I'm a sucker for the soft, you know me, so let's drain the demon's battery.
It's been a long 72 hours, and you're starving. You're also pinned down. A slab of cement separating you and your captain from the hail of bullets being rained onto you. Price is yelling into his radio for position information, for backup, for anything really. You're busy trying to improvise a decent explosive to try and buy both of you time. You burn a little more of you reserves to find an extra wire in the rubble and arm the device.
Your shadows lash at the enemy soldier that tries to flank, slashing his throat before spearing through him and into the one behind him. "Christ you are a wonder today," Price breathes, watching the men fall as your shadow retracts.
"Doin' my best," You tell him through grit teeth, popping out of cover just long enough to throw your shitty bomb.
"How much more you got in you?" He asks watching you crouch again. You grimace, doing some quick maths on your hunger levels versus your magic.
"Not as much as we want," You shake your head, "What do you need?"
"Got a helo incoming, need to get to the roof." Easier said than done as always. You tap your fingers against the cement, try to think of your best options, the best use of your remaining resources.
"I'll cover you, just try not to get shot." You both nod to each other and take a breath.
Then Price moves and all hell breaks loose. You expend a considerable amount of magic making every gun jam, and lashing away the already flying bullets. More magic slashing and spearing the combatants that charge Price with a knife or improvised weapon. He's just as quick to fire off shots; grabbing a soldier by the neck and shooting him first in the stomach, then between the eyes, before swiping the semi-automatic he'd been toting.
You throw thick shadowy shields up to catch a knife before it can slash your captain. You're getting slower, the radius of your senses creeping smaller and smaller. Price fires over your head as he back tracks up the nearest set of stairs. If you had even a second to eat...
A bullet grazes Price's arm, tears through his shirt with a streak of blood. You steal a few drops for an unlocked door as you both crash through the metal door leading to the roof. It's blissfully uninhabited but it won't be for long. You drop into Price's shadow, too tired to keep physical form while he runs to the edge of the roof and jumps to the next one.
"Awning on the left," You whisper, stretching to feel the best path to point.
"Stay with me sweetheart, can rest in the helo," Price presses his back to a wall and switches mags.
"Who said anything about resting, I'm working overtime," You grumble, watching him fire around the corner. You tweak a few bullets to hit their targets. You just need to get your charge to safety. That's what you keep telling yourself at least.
Price looks overhead, tracking the helicopter as it flies over the war torn city. Only a moment to breath before he's moving again. You direct him towards the humming metal, tossing him spare mags and spearing the unlucky few that aren't granted a bullet riddled death. When you finally spot the helo it's because the bullets are suddenly flying at it not you.
The door slides open and you hear Price laugh a little, watching Gaz shoot the men running after him from the door. He's quick to pick up the pace, grabbing Gaz's outstretched arm as soon as he's able for the assist climbing in.
"Get us out of here!" Gaz yells to the pilot, hauling Price into the helo with a tight grip. The engine whirs and over it you hear Gaz tell your captain, "Thought we'd lost you when we got separated, you're one lucky bastard."
Not luck, but close enough to it. Price hums, presses a steadying hand to the wall of the helicopter. You choose to take that as a dismissal, letting the darkness shelter you as you drift.
"Price." Your name drags you out of your hibernation. You pull yourself from the shadows in Price's tent just enough to stare at him. He's sat on his cot staring down at you. You try not to look as tired as you feel. He pats the space next to him. "Haven't had you pull anything from me in a while," He tells you, watching you extract yourself from the shadows to climb onto his cot.
"Haven't needed to," You stretch out across the standard issue bed, it's about as comfortable as you expected it to be, "you keep me well fed most of the time."
"I know, an' 'm sorry," He shakes his head, "don't like drainin' you like that."
"Not your fault," you sigh, "There wasn't time to eat, I'm just glad we got outta there in one piece."
"You want somethin' to eat now?" Price turns to settle a hand on your stomach. You hum, thinking over the offer. You're both fairly well trained to each other, but you're honestly too tired for sex after your forced shutdown.
"Maybe after a nap." You earn a smile for your honesty, Price's hand leaves your stomach to nudge you towards the edge of the cot. Just enough room for him to lay down. You figure it must be pretty late in the night if the captain is going to bed. You don't waste time trying to guess the hour, rolling to rest on his chest as Price slips an arm around you.
"Good, I'm exhausted," He sighs, and tugs his hat down over his eyes.
You cuddle closer enjoying the way his hand slides across your back, comforting and gentle. You think he must've been worried about you. You can still remember the first time you overstretched yourself. How hard he'd tried to hide his concern, and the mumbled admission that he didn't like how quiet everything was, how light his shoulders were during your sleep.
You rub your hand against his chest, the soft military issue tee catching under your fingers. Yeah, you miss him too when you're out of commission. You both certainly sleep better when you're corporeal if Price's snores are anything to go off of.
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