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#but there's a window in the door and I can see the desire it's right there it's so close and it exists there's just something in the way
veren-cos · 7 hours
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Cuddles
Astarion (Bg3) x gn!reader
It's late. The middle of the night in fact. You could see the faint moonlight beeming in through the thinly veiled windows as you walked. You knew he would be awake.
Feeling the strong desire to be held, you strolled over to Astarion's room, as you had been fortunate enough to sleep in a hotel tonight. Before you even had your hands on the door, it opened.
"Why hello, my dear. What brings you here at this fine hour?"
"Can I come in?"
"Of course, you never need to ask." You walked in. His face seemed to glow in the night light, his silver hair perfectly suited him, and his red eyes were staring right into you. "Now, what did you want?"
"Lay down" you responded, closing the door behind you as you spoke.
"Whatever for?" He teased. He wasn't against letting you take charge, but you were never so abrupt.
"Lay down. Please." The please came out more like a forceful beg. You desperately craved his embrace.
He obliged, walking backwards towards the bed as you slowly grabbed him by the shoulders. "My my, you are needy tonight." You gave him a light nudge as he leaned back.
"Now stay still." You climbed over him. And layed down.
A few moments of silence passed, and you hear a, "..what?" From underneath his breath. "Darling, what are you doing?" laughing a bit as he spoke. You lay on top of him, your legs entangled with his and your head on his chest. You wrap an arm underneath him into a tight embrace, and hold his hand with your free one.
You hear the clock tick. "Are you alright?" You look up at him and his face is rather flushed. It's an expression you certainly don't see often.
"This is rather nice," he remarked. "Not at all what I expected with you coming here in the middle of the night. But this. This is nice" You feel his hand running through your hair. Then down your face. "You're warm, dear"
You nuzzled into him, "and you are absolutely freezing." He only scoffed in response.
"Freezing! I wonder why!" His sarcasm was tangible.
"It isn't a bad thing, Astarion, darling. You feel nice." The repitition of his hand was lulling you to sleep. "Can I stay here tonight?" You open your eyes to see the, figurative, warmth in his eyes.
"You can stay here every night if it pleases you. Anything for you." So you stayed, making yourself comfortable even still. Your breathing steadies, and Astarion can tell you need your rest. "Goodnight, my love"
He plants a kiss on your forehead. His cool lips ever so sweet. You hum in response, music to his ears, and drift away.
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aberooski · 4 months
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I've the most horrendous writer's block 😭
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evilminji · 1 month
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You know what idea has always ENCHANTED ME?
Ever since I saw it on a sci-fi show?
The Deadly Magical House That Loves You™. See, it's a house that has become something MORE. Gained sentience. And? Instead of acting out some cheap horror movie jump scares? It digs deep to its foundations, thinks long n hard, and decides on what it WANTS.
And it WANTS?
To be a HOME™.
To TAKE CARE OF somebody. Have LIFE in its halls. Meals at its tables. Joy and laughter bouncing across its walls. So? It lays a trap. Lures people in.
Come live in me~
I am a good home.
I am Free! I am "Safe". I will give you whatever your heart desires.
I care not for morality or laws. Boundaries or taboos. Do you desire? Come, come, be HAPPY~! Live in me! Relax here! Forget about the world beyond these walls. Anything I can not give you, I can bring TOO you! This is a Happy Home.
But, of course, such sentience and pushiness terrifies. People run and flee in horror. The house getting more aggressive. Trying to hold tighter. After all! If they would just STAY for a while, they would SEE! It's so LOVELY here! The would LOVE to live inside them!
But... instead?
They are hurt.
Doors smashed open. Windows broken to escape. Furniture thrown. Their avatar, Jeeves, bashed with heavy things. Why... WHY?! They are only trying to HELP! To LOVE them! Be a good HOME! They grow more and more run down. Starved. Wrathful.
It is, of course, their Obsession. To be a home. They are so very hungry.
When? Who should come along?
But the depressed AF Ghost King! He's been... not TECHNICALLY kicked out. But "things are tense" kicked out. He's tired. His college courses are remote. He can't really AFFORD rent. And everything is just...
He's TIRED.
He wants to cry.
Why... why can't he have ONE good thing? ONE sign everything's gonna be alright?
"Free House!"
Well... I mean... that IS a literal sign. Huh. He flies down. The house notices him. Tries to look as enticing as it can. And? Gasp! I... It's WORKING? This one seems INTERESTED? Quick! Flowerbeds! Look at my flowerbeds! Ooooh, lovely floooowers! A.. and there's probably really nice wood flooring! C'mon. C'moooon!
Danny? Sees a free Lair. Not too far from both Gotham AND Metropolis. Good location. Needs a little fixing up. But I mean... you can't beat free, right?
Is he really gonna do this?
......fuck it. Yeah, let's do this. First house time. He's just glad he carries a sharpie on him most of the time. Scribbles "Sold!" Over the sign then calls Jazz. He's... kinda not sure WHAT he's supposed to pack?
Finds out, post move in, whoop. Sentient Lair. Clingy, clingy, highly desperate sentient Lair. Oof. Guess fixing up the place can be therapy for both of us. Jazz helps.
The house heals. He falls into a routine. Schoolwork, hang out in the garden or the observatory, meals FaceTiming friends or watching videos, naps whenever he wants them. It's... it's so peaceful. Quiet and soothing to his agitated and worn down soul. Like a balm.
House gets him whatever he needs. They're kinda awesome like that. Always seems to have room to fit this or that. He doesn't question it. His brain figuring it works on Zone logic.
He probably SHOULD have.
Because? Things have been going missing. At a slow, steady, pace. Food, technology, entertainment. A building that shouldn't BE there, has been spotted in a wealthy county just outside of Superman and Batman's two cities.
No one can get near it.
It's been getting BIGGER.
Growing, like a tumor, room by room. Floor by floor. The gardens creeping like kudzu, to swallow everything in their path. Yet delivery drivers drop things off. Things they don't remember. On trips they don't recall. People are scared.
Amateur detectives have managed to discover some sort of starlit fae that lives there, along with a human boy.
Justice League Dark has been called in. Are currently standing just outside the slowly creeping property line. A garden statue just hissed at them. The trees are trying to throw acorns. A hushed argument has already broken out. How do they contain the house?
@the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @hypewinter @hdgnj @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @spidori @lolottes
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monzamash · 4 months
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smile you're on camera — lando norris
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when miami hits different... lando norris x you (femreader) | 1.8k rating – 18+ (sex, coarse language) masterlist
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“That all looked sufficiently cringe.”
Lando’s gruff laugh echoes as he slid the balcony door open for you. You had been watching him for the past half hour filming promotional content for the Miami GP, each one cheesier than the last and you couldn’t help but admire his work ethic – even if it meant watching him make a complete fool of himself in the blistering heat.
A grumbled “you’ve got no idea” paired with a deep sigh in reply was all you were going to get and a sweet kiss pressed to the back of your head.
He helped you collect the book you’d abandoned in lieu of watching him glow in the golden hour and retreat inside from the humidity, still suffocating as the sun set off in the distance. The sweet relief of the air con as you stepped inside provided a little bit of respite while Lando shuffled around the room, closing windows and doors, trapping what cool air you did have inside your hotel room.
“I have something to show you…”
Lando sheepishly declares as you splay out on the hotel bed, grumbling through a jaw splitting yawn, “What is it?” “I stole it.” That got your attention, shooting up from where you were laying down, “But I’ll take it back tomorrow… after we’ve used it.”
Sitting in his hot little hands was a camcorder that had seen better days, scratches on its lens and all. Lando watched your shocked expression fall to one of annoyance as you sat back on your hands, eyebrow quirked and scowl present on your pretty face.
“Absolutely not.”
“Aw come on,” He drawls, holding the camera up to his eye – the other squinted behind the viewfinder, “I swapped in one of my SD cards and I know you’re into this kinky shit. Admit it…”
Lando kept the camera up, the little red light that was on all of those old school recorders flashed in the dark. Your eyes were rolling when his grabby reached out for your hip, “You’re out of your mind.”
“That’s the effect you have on me, baby.”
A soft hum slips from your lips feeling the pads of his fingers tracing down the outside of your thigh, too easily convinced by the man who consumed your every thought; every desire. You missed him when he was gone, the days spent with him slimmer as the season lulled on. So, maybe having something to reference on those cold, lonely nights was excuse enough to indulge the idea. And he was right – you are into this shit.
“Just make sure you can’t see too much,” You whisper into the air, giving the green light.
Lando’s little noise tells you everything. He's excited about this; you can tell by the way he nips and presses a couple of sloppy kisses to your cheek before scurrying off to set up the camera. He was a giggly mess thinking about how fucking lucky he was to be with someone who was up for anything. Equal parts classy and devious – just the way he likes it.
“Hop up on the bed so I can frame you,” He sweetly instructs, eyes trained on the small screen lighting his dark features, ocean eyes a moody blue.
You do as you’re told and crawl up onto the comically large bed, propped up on one elbow with hair a mess. Lando smiles when he shifts focus onto you – the sheer white dress you were wearing flaunting everything he loved about your body. All curves and supple skin, pebbled nipples peaking through – the silverware you had secretly added to them as a surprise for him peaking through under the fabric.
“You are so fucking pretty,” He almost whimpers; a warm flush washing over your sticky skin. It was hot in the room you were in and the way Lando was eyeing you from behind the camera was searing.
“Can you take the dress off for me?” his voice was a lower octave than before, eyes still watching your shadowed body moving across the messy bed.
“Not sure how to make this look sexy but…” You huff, carelessly tearing the thin material over your head and throwing it to the side, “your wish is my command.”
Lando chuckles quietly and strides over to you, no longer able to keep his hands off what was his. He hopes there’s enough space on his card for what he was about to do to you – because in reality, this was selfishly for him to indulge in when you weren’t near, to feel like you were close when you’re a million miles away. You sat on the edge of the bed, eyes following his as he reaches out and presses down your hair, frizzed up by the dress sitting on the floor beside his feet.
“So cute,” He admires, “And somehow even sexier…”
He leans down and meets your craned neck halfway in a tender, reassuring kiss, “If it gets too weird just say, baby.”
His words were just loud enough for you to hear, not for the camera – just you, “Oh, you know I will.”
He laughs into the kiss, knowing that you were in full control of this situation – he was under no illusions when it came to your dynamic. It was laced through your entire relationship, the fair balance of power – of give and take. But tonight, all he wanted was to make you feel good and so he rested between your already shaky thighs and pried them apart, basking in how seduced you are by his little ploy.
“You pretend like this shit doesn’t turn you on but look at you,” He revels, one solitary finger brushing languidly through your folds and earning an impatient growl.
Lando wasn’t in the mood for teasing – the battery life on the camera and your legs wrapping tightly around his head made sure of that. He helps you shuffle back on the bed, hands gripping your hips as he rearranges the shot – you caught a glimpse of the blurry reflection of the two of you naked on the camera lens and it sent a pang of doubt down your spine, chilling.
“I hope we don’t look disgusting when we watch this back.” It was an honest thought – one you hope doesn’t kill the mood.
“You look so unbelievably hot,” Lando hums, kissing the top of your shoulder before pressing his hand to your lower back, “Lay on your front and I’ll fuck you like this…”
You raise a sceptical eyebrow, “From the back? This is getting real porny now.” But of course you do it, positioning yourself on your stomach, backside up with a playful smirk that had the man behind you grinning like an idiot.
“Might as well put on a bit of a show just in case this does get out somehow,” Lando teases, earning a swift round arm to the ribs. He grimaces in pain but you knew behind those flirtatious blue eyes, he loves it.
“Well you better fuck me good, huh? Wouldn’t want people thinking you’re a dud shag…” Now it was your turn to taunt and Lando’s reaction was the exact one you were praying for.
A hasty smack to your ass that had been brushing against his clothed cock for better part of a minute; it wasn’t a hard but it certainly wasn’t timid, either and the moan that slipped from your lips had him itching to rearrange your insides. He smoothed over the reddening mark and pressed a sweet kiss to your spine before pushing down the waistband of his sweatpants, freeing himself between your thighs.
“Don’t hold back those sweet sounds, pretty girl. I wanna hear you, okay? I want everyone to hear you…”
“Same goes for you, handsome.”
Your eyes flutter shut as you surrender to the delicious stretch he gives you. Weakly pushing back but making no head way in adjusting. A whimper falls from your mouth before the squeal when Lando lunges forward, pushing deeper with a sadistic grin lining his bitten lips. He was sweating already – tanned skin glimmering against the darkening sunset while every muscle on his stomach contracted, delving further into your depths.
“That’s it, Lan,” You sputter out, blowing stray hairs out of your face so you can get a good look at your boyfriend, “Move it just like that – yes…”
And he did, rotating your hips tantalisingly slow to begin but gradually building up his long, delectable strokes – the sounds of skin slapping and shallow breathing heightening all of the senses. In the midst of his relentlessness, you manage to slip your hand between your thighs, toying with the sensitive bud begging for your attention. Lando’s strained hum of approval when he felt your back arching sent a rush of blood to your fingertips.
“Tell me how good it feels when you play with yourself?” He asks, hunched over and kissing the nape of your neck when you opened your eyes, giggling at the wispy curls tickling your skin, “Is that how you do it when I’m not around?”
“God, yes… But wish you were always here, baby.”
“Do ya imagine me fucking you like this, huh? Begging for that pussy to come around my cock?” He probes, receiving a moan in response – your brain short-circuiting from the orgasm quickly approaching, easing you over the edge.  
You buried your head at first, shying away from the little red light flashing in your rolling eyes until Lando gently encouraged you to ‘show him your pretty face when you come undone’. It was all whispers and moans and absolute bliss when you resurfaced, pupils blown out from both sides as Lando reached over you and flipped the small preview screen around.
“Look at yourself,” He grunts into your neck, losing control of every single fibre of his being as he pumped into you.
“Fill me up, Lan. Make a mess…”
“If you say shit like that to me, you're gonna make me– fucking… fuck,” He sputters out, chanting your name, and before you can even blink, you feel that familiar twitch inside you.
The one that almost always triggers another high, extremely close to losing yourself to the white hot pleasure all over again.
Lando collapses into your slick back, his warm release pooling as he catches his breath and holds you tightly. You look up at the camera – the red light still flashing as you muster up every ounce of energy remaining and pick it up off the tripod. You hold it stupidly close to his flushed cheeks that are pressed into your skin, eyes closed.
“Any last words before I turn this off?” You ask, Lando slowly lifts his chin up and rests it next to your face. You smile at how equally fucked out and sleepy you both appear, blissfully satisfied by your work. His voice is gravelly when he tries to speak, clearing his throat before trying again.
“Um, yeah so make sure you like the video and subscribe if you haven’t already…”
“Stop!” You shout and smack him in the shoulder – Lando groans with faux pain into your neck as you turn the camera off and wriggle out of his strong grasp.
“You are unbelievable!” You jest, swatting his tickling fingertips away.
“What? I could’ve said stay tuned for part two…”
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a/n – happy new years everyone x
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cdbabymp3 · 2 months
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𐙚chris' girl ; chapter one ― matt sturniolo
summary: y/n goes home with chris after the party. matt let's his desires get the best of him. i suck at summaries lmfao
notes/warnings: chris x reader x matt, nsfw !! slight perv!matt, masturbation, vouyerism (??) a hint of toxic!chris, that's it i think idk ?? i've decided to break up the chapters to be a lil shorter so it's easier to read ! that way there will be more of them too <3
read the intro if you haven't already :) LUV YALL IM NERVOUS ABT THIS ONE ....
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not caring what response the random guy had to say, matt kept walking. while leaving completely wasn't an option, who's to say he couldn't wait in the car? enticed by the idea of complete silence and peace, matt strolled to the front door of the house and made his way up the street to the car. with a short beep of the car unlocking, he hopped in and shut the door, sighing in relief. after sitting idle for a moment, he was unsure what to do. was this a new low? hiding in the car from my brother and his girlfriend....jesus. defeat struck again, making him rest his arms and forehead against the steering wheel. what the fuck is wrong with me? amid his wallowing, a low buzz vibrates repeatedly from his back pocket. matt grabs his phone, the bright screen illuminating the dark interior of the car. not one, but five texts from nick:
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matt rolled his eyes at his brother's hollow threat.
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a tinge of anger made its way through matt's veins. of course chris did something. it wouldn't be fair to cuss out chris until he knew the whole context, but, fuck, was he close to. he squinted, seeing nick and y/n walking side by side towards the car, chris behind them on his phone. he couldn't read y/n's expression or chris'. they all got in the car awkwardly in silence. matt looked at nick for a quick nonverbal explanation, but nick shook his head like he wasn't allowed to say a word. with that, matt takes the cue to start the car and head home. in the rearview mirror, he sees ample distance between chris and y/n. chris' hand creeps onto her thigh, but she moves it off.
"you're seriously still mad?" chris mumbles, trying not to draw attention
y/n ignores him, staring out the window for any kind of distraction.
"this is ridiculous." he scoffs under his breath
nick scrambles for the aux cord and puts on some soft music to alleviate the growing tension. matt discreetly nods at nick for his idea.
other than the music playing, it's silent for almost ten minutes until chris starts instigating again.
"can we talk about it at least? y/n?" he pokes her thigh, but her gaze remains on the buildings that pass by
y/n's voice shakes, "no, not right now."
"so you're gonna be mad at me and not tell me why?" he rhetorically asks, raising his voice so that it overpowers the volume of the music
nick's eyes flick to matt's nervously.
"chris, let's not do this in front of them, please. just wait." y/n requests, fighting the urge to match his vexed tone, but it comes out even
matt lets it be quiet for a minute, then clears his throat, "so-uh, y/n, should i just bring you back to our place?"
her eyes meet his in the mirror and he gives her a comforting smile, mutely letting her know that the invitation is open but that she doesn't have to.
"um, yeah, if you don't mind." her eyes hold onto matt's stare longer than he expected, finally returning back to the window.
the rest of the ride is filled with an uncomfortable silence, everyone shifting awkwardly in their seats and checking their phones.
what felt like an eternity in the car was finally over as matt pulled into the garage. not even waiting for the car to be off, chris swings his seat belt off and gets out. y/n tries to keep up, quickly running behind him to where matt and nick assumed was chris' room.
after the garage door fully closed behind y/n, matt gestured for nick and him to get out.
"so you don't know what happened at all?" matt interrogates nick, locking the car
nick opens his mouth to start speaking, opening the door into the house, but puts a finger up to his mouth with wide eyes.
"what?" matt whispered entering the first level of the house
nick shushed him, steadily walking up the stairs to the second floor to reach the living room. curiously, matt did the same.
"i thought i heard y/n...it sounded like she was in pain or something...." nick spoke so quietly, matt had to step closer to hear him. the two brothers turned in the direction of chris' room, waiting for a sound, but there was nothing.
matt starts to walk away, "nick, c'mon-"
"mmh, chris, fuck..." y/n's muffled moan travels down the hall.
matt freezes, blood rushing to his cheeks and ears. holy fuck. the sounds coming from chris' room were borderline pornographic. y/n's sweet mewls mixed with chris' low groans could be heard over the sound of the skin slapping over and over again.
"wow, that was fast. usually, they fight a little more before this part." nick grabs his headphones routinely from the dinner table, "you know, i told chris not to do that shit when we're here anymore. it's fucking weird. but if he's not gonna listen to me, the least he can do is close his door all the way."
with no response from matt, nick looks to him. matt stands completely still, eyes glued to the hallway of chris' room, definitely not hearing a word nick just said.
"matt? what the fuck are you doing?" nick hits his arm, snapping matt out of the trance he'd been put in.
"what? sorry-i think i need to go to bed. i'm really tired." a lie so bad, he cringed the second it left his mouth. thankfully, nick had enough alcohol in him for it to go unnoticed for once.
"well, good luck with that." nick gave him a part on the back, slipping his headphones on and walking to his room.
once nick's door was shut, matt shuts his eyes tightly and took a deep breath. just go to your room, plain and simple. close the door and go to bed. matt opened his eyes, taking hesitant steps into the hallway. with each step, y/n's moans grew louder. it started feeling real, too real. he clenched his fist and held his breath, making it the space between chris' bedroom door and his; conveniently right across from one another. the sounds were no longer muffled and he could almost feel the heat radiating from the room. like he was being timed, matt slipped into his room, closing his door, but leaving it cracked the slightest bit open. peering with a fraction of his face, he could partially see past the crack of chris' door. the sliver he was permitted was of y/n. her eyebrows knitted together, both hands holding her up as she grips onto the sheets of the bed white-knuckled. her body rocks back and forth as she fucks into chris, who drills into her from behind relentlessly. she gasps every couple of thrusts when chris goes deeper. a string of their curses echoes throughout the whole upstairs. matt feels himself getting hard at the sight and sound her. it was so wrong, he knew that. a sudden wave of shame pours over him. if chris knew the things he thought about his girlfriend, matt was certain chris would shoot him dead between the eyes. so, making sure they don't hear, matt closes his door. he kicks off his shoes, peels his jeans and shirt off, and crawls into bed. it's pitch black in his room, leaving too much to the imagination. loud and clear, he can still hear y/n's erotic sounds. so pretty. even when she's getting her brains fucked out, she sounds so fucking pretty. matt had watched his fair share of porn in the past. he could never fully get off to how most of the girls sounded. sure, most of it is scripted after all, but none of it really got him going. there were always too screechy for him. but not y/n. she sounded like an angel.
he almost felt nauseous with guilt about these thoughts he was having. distraughtly, he turned over on his side, making eye contact with headphones that sat on his bedside table. maybe nick had the right idea. reaching for them lazily, he turned them on. a small circular red light blinked on the side indicating a dead battery. great. he rolled over onto his back, both hands pushing his hair out of his face. a loud slap sounded, earning a pleased whimper from y/n. matt's mouth formed an 'o' in shock. he didn't think she was into that...
he couldn't handle it any longer. the bulge in his boxes throbbing so bad it started to hurt.
just this once, matt...
lightly, his hand snuck under the covers, to his erection, palming it. he winced, the mere contact already giving him the relief he needed. another slap against y/n's ass echoed, working him up enough to touch himself underneath his boxers. grabbing the base of his shaft and stroking upwards, he shut his eyes, imagining he was the one making y/n sound like that. it was easy to tap into this fantasy for him, not being the first time, in truth. he could see it so clearly: him holding her hips, moving her body against his as he fucked into her. her soft skin sticky with sweat, little baby hairs clinging to her forehead as he kissed her lips and neck. he would take his time with her. not like chris. he would grab her neck if she'd let him, holding her securely. he'd leave little marks all along her tits. god, her tits. the thought of them alone was enough to make him cum right there. he'd fuck her as long as he physically could, as long as she wanted him to. and the face she'd make when she cums....the way she'd whine his name, holding onto him for dear life.
he was almost there, eyes screwing shut even tighter than before. his chest rose and fell at a brash pace, sucking in air, as he felt his release nearing. his free hand grabs onto his sheets, hips lifting up to fuck himself into his hand. so fucking close...
but then there's silence from the other room. mid-stroke, matt pauses, keeping his eyes closed. suddenly, chris' door slams. a meek knock on his own door causes matt's eyes to flash open in fear.
"matt...?" y/n knocks again, a little louder, "are you awake?"
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໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @forevergirlposts , @soimightlikeoldmen69 , @sl0t4matt , @st7rnioioss , @sturn3ol0 , @vickyzloserz , @@mayhem-72
lmk if u wanna be tagged, hotties !!
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capslocked · 6 months
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KINKVEMBER DAY: 1
[prompt: against a wall window]
male reader x huh yunjin
5k words
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You're not entirely sure where the jacket to your suit has gone.
You know you should know; it’s a rental and you need to return it in a week. But Yunjin told you to take it off, and since then, things have been... a little hazy.
More concerning - or it would be, had Yunjin not also lost some part of her attire - is what her thumbs are hooked into. Like she's peeling out the silhouette to her skin-tight, backless dress - the way she can't keep from leaning against the elevator wall. Your lips have the taste of her red lipstick all over, and her body melts with every little flick of the tip of her tongue against yours, puddles that much further when she feels your fingers curling into the folds of that skin-tight black material.
The motion to push the fabric up and over the rise of her hips is a purposeful kind of thing.
For the past hour, her skirt kept brushing over the fabric of your pants while you went from shaking hands to kissing hands to her placing yours on the hem of her dress, in the quiet space of a balcony the hotel staff had clearly marked as off-limits. A kiss behind the shell of her ear, a suggestion, a shiver.
Now, things are happening in a sort of reverse: from slow and curious, to needing more and wanting less, and suddenly, neither of you want to wait - until her thighs are spread wide apart, with your free hand slid over her smooth thigh, fingers skirting the edges of her lace, cupped over her heat - right, there. The throbbing.
"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me," is what she's asking.
"Something awful," you reply, but there's only a gasp out of her throat to prove your point. No words.
Just the look: desire clouding over the expression. The not-so-subtle display of want, need. Tongue pressing to lips and tugging along the corner. A moan, two, quieted behind the knuckle she can't quite help putting in her mouth.
You consider shoving her panties down the curve of her thighs and spinning her around - leaving her arms to brace the railing and keeping the dress around her waist while you fuck. Quick, rough.
The mental image is too nice to let it go.
You consider how much she might genuinely prefer to that to whatever she'd had in mind when she suggested you really ought see the view of the city from her room - oh, the skyline, it's gorgeous, she offered, lips tugged into a perfectly practiced little quirk that said: the view of me, on all fours, face down into a mattress as my ass swallows down your cock - I can't wait to have you.
You can feel the thought concrete itself to the base of your skull when you roll the flat of your finger over her clit and start sliding up and down between the lips of her pussy - finding her a little wet already, dripping onto the fabric in the most obvious way. When the elevator stops a few floors shy, you try to play it off by squeezing at her rib cage and tugging the fabric back in place, hiding the tell-tale lines between the fabric, just as Yunjin starts that gentle laugh from the very base of her spine. A real beautiful timbre in its sound.
But things get more muddled, admittedly, when the doors ding and the group on the other side piles through.
There's an exchange of glances, where they're asking if this is allowed, is there enough room, can they make room. One of them, in a dizzyingly plunging, strapless blue number that has you pressing your palm into the small of Yunjin's back just a little more than you have been up to that point, considers, carefully.
"Yunjin," she says, fingers brushing through the fringe of a smart-chic bob, prim cut of jet-black hair.
Yunjin shifts her weight onto the other heel. "Chaewon."
"By the looks of it," she says, and the way she looks you over has all the judgmental verve of an older sister, a real cold stare. "You've got a I'll-be-staying-in-tonight kind of vibe."
A deeper laugh now, rolling out across the backs of her teeth. "If it's all the same to you," is what you hear from her, "it'll be an early night for me."
“Don’t make it a habit,” she tells Yunjin.
“We’re just going to go enjoy the view.”
“Yeah.” Chaewon gives you one final, disapproving expression. “I bet he will.”
The elevator isn't totally silent, not for the subtle hum and whir of machinery. But everything is a lot closer now. Especially your thoughts, the way Yunjin pulls herself closer against you by a hand on the back of your dress shirt - her fingernails mapping the ridge of your spine, finding your hip bone, thumb curving back and forth against the curve of it.
The four girls at the corner are just making chatter in their corner of the lift. They've got a reservation - in name, anyway. If things were as simple as getting from the hotel to the elevator and beyond, no need for the next forty floors to pass at a snail's pace.
In fact, the four have this sort of tense, concentrated way to them that suggests otherwise - like maybe they came all this way and made that sort of promise to have the whole night end the way some things ought: alone.
"Don't stop on account of us," one of them says after a while.
Which is enough to set off this glare into the furl of Yunjin’s brows. Not her friend's intention. But they laugh it off.
When the doors scuttle open, finally, the two of you stumble out, feet not catching up to the rest of you before Yunjin has her fingers around your wrist and drags you out. Her heels - red-bottomed and not entirely flat but definitely a lot less heel-ey than others (she’s tall, she says, it makes her self-conscious), are clacking quick across marble tile until she arrives at the door of her room, pulls her keycard out of her clutch and leans shoulder-first into the door after the click and whir of entry.
She takes a step backward.
The door locks at your back when it's kicked into its frame.
The first thing you notice is her dress: pooled on the floor around the arches of her heels, cast off like a cloak or some overcoat - to be tossed aside once the sun goes down.
"Make a habit out of this, huh?" you ask in an effort to keep yourself busy - gawking's never been a good look on anyone, even with your natural gifts, the glint in your smile, all your charm - but the curves of her body are stunning, curves that start where her thighs begin, wrap around her hips, cut in at her waist, bloom from the perfectly-small-breasts that now are showing their dusky pink nipples, firm and on full display.
All of Yunjin, like this, beneath pale moonlight pouring diffuse through the fish-bowl-glass of her hotel room, is nothing short of an invitation.
A good look, is what you're about to say if you don't come up with anything else.
"You do this kind of thing often?"
"What's that," Yunjin says over the sharp line of a grin.
"What I mean to say is: I hadn't pegged you for the," and you gesture, rather elegantly, with the flop of your wrist, "lure-some-poor-sap-away-from-a-party-and-take-advantage kind of type," before managing something like a genuine laugh. "Not to knock that lifestyle or anything."
"There's not a thing in the world you know about me," is what she offers. Which is, unsurprisingly, totally true, and slightly unfair.
Yunjin is walking toward you while you consider it.
Drifting when she comes around. It's that close. You can smell the warmth of her skin, a whiff of that vanilla, an infuriating softness - the room is dark, but the moon is bright and the city is glowing, reflecting its light and the various hues from neon signs below, outside, until Yunjin stops, standing right in front of you, just, waiting.
Then, the steady rise of an eyebrow that, for a second, feels like a challenge.
“So," you kiss into her lips, and that's the first. "Let me know you."
The second is when her hands slip up and over the back of your neck and you can't keep from reaching for her sides, pulling her closer. Her hips and ass and those fucking gorgeous, full, legs that can't decide which direction to take - until she's pressed, warm, soft, and perfect against your body, and she's sighing this sigh, heavy, a moan.
The third time, she's licking into your mouth, tongue rolling in and around the taste of your own.
"Too many clothes," she murmurs, and you can feel the pull at your half-undone bowtie, the collar to your dress shirt. She's working the buttons off their slots with deft, clever fingers.
"That's what happens when I'm trying to look sharp."
"Sharp, and hot."
"Is it working?"
Her eyes are as dark as the hair framing the smile that plays at the edge of her mouth. "I'm taking your clothes off, aren't I?"
"Mm," you reply, a smirk of your own. Pressed right into her jaw, her neck, the column of her throat, where she tastes sweet and salty. Like the sea and the night. Before you can even ask, with your fingers teasing the elastic of her underwear, I'm guessing you want me to do the same.
Yunjin makes a sound like, mm-hm.
The hotel room is quite standard, which is to say, nice. But, for what it is, it's not too fancy. There's a large, king-size bed with the crispest sheets you've ever felt. A little kitchenette. Some counter space and a fridge. A TV hanging opposite the bed, with an armchair and a love-seat positioned to face the screen.
"Do you want me to tell you what to do?" Yunjin asks, and her voice is low. Almost a husk, a whisper.
"What did you have in mind?" you say to her, and there's a hand on the nape of your neck, a fist of soft, slender fingers wrapping the length of your cock.
"You're going to fuck me until I'm cumming on your cock. You'll get me on my knees, first, though."
"That's the plan?"
"Unless you have another." Yunjin grins, a smile so full and bright and genuine. You don't know anything beyond her name and the perfectly sculpted curve of her ass. She could be anyone, an actress, a singer, a model. A girl-next-door. A friend of a friend.
She could be yours.
And in a way, when she's on her knees, her mouth hot and tight around the shape of your cock, those fucking lips pressed into the base of it, sliding easy with the spit she leaves on your shaft, that's exactly what you tell her.
"Yunjin," is all you're saying, a sigh, a hiss. You're helping her get your pants off the ends of your feet while your cock is lathered and bathed in her spit, feeling her slender fingers pull up and down your shaft. "That feels so fucking good, baby. Just like that." It's fast, sloppy, she's taking you in and out of her hot mouth like it's the most natural thing in the world. A slurp, a cough, and she's completely unfettered, sucking down and swallowing another breath - not to mention all that about her tongue. A swirl over the head of your cock and you show how much you like it, letting her read the bite into your lip, inventorying every little wince through your brow.
But see - you have your fingers in her hair, holding the strands away from her face. Away from where Yunjin's eyes are breathtaking and glittering, blinking back up under upturned brows, looking up at you from where she's taking you into the hot wet of her mouth, inch-by-inch. And the part of you, this cruel, twisting sensation, would hate for her to think anything of your hands - how they're at the top of her head, cradled behind, and easing her forward, the head of your cock teasing the roof of her mouth.
The back of her mouth.
The back of her throat.
Fuck, her eyes go wide. She's good. She takes it.
And just from the pretty look she keeps on her face, Yunjin loves it. Loves to be pushed, loves to have her hands running along the ridge of your thigh until her fingers are prying the very bottom, the underside, your balls. Like this, with her kneeling down between your legs, the flexing muscle of her upper arms to her palms squeezed tight on either cheek of your ass, where the heat starts to stir deep - to pull. Bring the full length of you to the back of her throat.
The choked sound from deep in her chest should surprise you.
And for the shortest moment, you're holding still and forcing her head, your hands keeping her perfectly put: just there, right there. Exactly like that - where she could look like the perfect mess and feel a twitch right between those lips that keep asking so kindly, go ahead, fuck a load of cum down my throat, baby, use these lips - the soft swell of these lips until you're cumming for me.
Or something else along those lines.
The thought of it crosses your mind: cum spilling from the corner of her mouth as she tries to take everything you have. The flutter in her throat wringing it all down. The mess that all would make. Not that she isn’t already a perfect sight.
You tug on her hair again.
Yunjin's eyes sparkle.
Her eyelashes go a little droopy, hazy. Dark.
And she starts humming across this wistful note of a sigh as her lips start slipping over your shaft - dragging in that slow, agonizing, blissful way over everywhere sensitive and aching. Taking her time, while one hand goes up and strokes what her mouth can't touch, while you pull her head, those perfect strands, just a touch further down, because if she can't quite deep-throat you then Yunjin can give a goddamn masterful impression.
Her cheeks hollow, and the suction - god.
You could cum right in between the pretty little pout of her lips, over the flat of her tongue. Right down her throat.
But in a turn of events neither of you anticipate, you don't do it; you are, much like anyone else, not without limits. Which is probably how you end up lifting Yunjin back up by the underside of her elbows, asking, "that feels a little one-sided, no?"
It's only fair to pull a smirk, kiss, all the best tricks - all for the best parts of her, full, curving, down from her neck, shoulders, her arms, the palms of her hands, every part of her: that perfect shade of peach, pink. From there, everything else falls away. The slow way Yunjin sneaks away with the kind of saunter you'd expect, hips swaying all the way up, sashaying out this inviting side-to-side before you realize it's working -
And you're asking, "Yunjin?" then telling, "I want you up against that window."
The sun's long set - but it'll come up soon enough, over the edges of skyscraper-blocks and shining up out from the base, until everything is bright and gleaming.
"Which window?" she teases.
So you swat at her ass. A not-so-delicate slap. "I don't care so long as I fuck you into it."
"And if someone sees?" she laughs out, still intent on teasing you, and the small edge in her voice is some combination of excitement and worry.
"Then we better give them something worth seeing."
Yunjin's palms land flush to the glass, fingers spread out - wide, wanting, willing - where the blue, yellow glow of city lights shines in over the curves of her profile, the slope of her cheek, the bright pools her irises turn under the warmth. She's the only thing worth seeing, and there's nothing that could possibly stop you from needing, wanting more, right now.
There's no other explanation. No other reason, really, to explain how you're desperate: to fill her, bury yourself inside her - to where you're promising, coming up behind her and guiding her over - so you can spread those creamy thighs apart, push her shoulders up against the cold surface of the window. Where she'll catch a view of her reflection staring back at her: beautiful, exposed, and hers.
"I'm going to fuck you now," is exactly what she's been begging you to say, is why she ends up feeling, with the deep, twisting need building somewhere, how you'll work your cock so deep into her wanting cunt that the only thing that makes her legs go weak - wobbling, really - is the promise of cock rubbing so close and teasing the slick folds between her legs. Until she's a little more demanding, needy - and fuck, where is all the foreplay you'd promised earlier? That perfect, thick cock of yours is missing. She knows what all this really needs.
"Yeah? You need me here?" and she gets this whine, a little pathetic, but in the cutest way.
Yunjin turns her eyes to you, over her shoulder, just the faintest bit of a sneer. 
Because she needs it, right now - rough, quick, good. 
A gasp catches in her throat when you drag your cockhead through her wet heat, once, twice, and the slide of it against her clit becomes the only thing that matters in the entire goddamn world. 
"Inside," her teeth are clamping hard on her lip now, holding it from trembling as she tries to put words together, "Put," is where she loses focus and you're sucking, and kissing, and biting at her shoulder, "put, fuck. Please, put your, put - that cock of yours in my-" You slip into her hot-soaking-wet cunt, and after you've clenched a fist and brought a palm to the center of the window, so that you could open up your body around her a little easier, her muscles squeeze and grip and milk the first few strokes so tight. So-fucking-good.
There's not even a word for it, how she fit like a glove around the first thrust, but if the expression on your face says anything, it's everything Yunjin wanted and more: the shape, the angle, how you're pressing your fingers so hard into the impossible geometry of her waist, the round of her ass - oh, she’ll be a mess of red marks, shapes and lines, reminders of how good you fucked her - these long deep strokes in and out of her creaming pussy - evidence left where the heat inside her builds and pools.
And god, Yunjin is so, so easy to fuck: you can pound into her as rough and steady and fast as she'd begged - there with your other hand, pulling hard, hard, at the loose, dark locks of her hair. Where it has Yunjin gasping, moaning, the whole nine. She has to look to find her balance - and meets the two silhouettes framed inside the reflection on the window. Two shapes, lost in the blurred shadow and outline of lights outside the hotel window, behind which the whole city and its crowds might have stopped the way they'd started, with the rest of you caught between these strange moments:
First, the mindfulness. The purpose and meaning in movement, sensation. In being alive and young, hot, gorgeous and dumb as you can afford to be be.
Yunjin's murmuring, "right there, I want you," or telling, or begging, "don't, you have no idea, I, no-" until your body presses flush up against hers, hips rocking into her perfect figure - taking you like she was built for it, and everything feels so much tighter now, so much closer. Her palms and cheek against the glass, her knees are all shaking and ready to fold at any moment. "So deep, fuck. Fuck me right there, just like that."
Then as you suppose, the unbridled lust on display: Yunjin's turned to this kind of abandon - she's swearing out loud, saying things that have no name and very little form until you've dragged the roughness of your fingers all over her body and found she needs a palmprint on her inner thighs, her ass. That she's whimpering with every deeper plunge until, finally, she gets what she's after - and the words are falling out of her mouth. All it does is mean nothing now - whatever you've been waiting to hear, the pleas to fuck her harder, the cocksleeve talk, or any other request or order.
It's a small miracle, really, considering how she'd gotten you throbbing and aching with just the press of her lips and the dangerous little curl of her tongue - the tight heat all in the back of her throat - but Yunjin cums first.
Loudly. 
Messily, too, as she rides out the feeling - tightness gathering right into her core. But her head, it's in the clouds and a little far away, the skyline bathing her skin in shades of glittering silver and gold. And god, the heat of her tight, twitching, soaked pussy - pulsing around the thrusting curve of your cock: the sublime kind of place, spot, rhythm.
How her arms give out and she's pressed, flushed, back to chest with you, right there. Her words are soft. Wholly unimaginative: yes and fuck, yes and oh, she wants you, loves how well you fuck. The murmur comes from that gorgeous body of hers, the exact shape of everything that feels good to feel. The jut of her hips and her legs are longer than her height suggests they'd be, flawless from the ankle and foot to her thigh to where your arm wraps around the base of her ribs, hugging her from the back.
It's a perfect fit.
And not in the glass-slipper kind of way that means there is such a thing as a soulmate, no.
"Cum in me," she breathes, and then - all over. That's it. The moment your fingers are splayed back out over the pane of window, she can't hold her gaze steady. Those tears prick up at the corner, where they get caught. Where her voice is too high and pitchy - begging, a whining noise and some syllable. Something inaudible that has pressing these hot, open-mouthed kisses right into the pretty rise-and-falls of her spine. The sloppy-wet sound from your cock slipping back in, and back again, until you're just left fucking these little ragged breathes out of her chest.
The space between her lips and the glass, the white-ghosting breaths of air out between those plump little pouts that have shaped and molded themselves into some version of words, a few half-finished pleads: “kiss, hold, fill, fuck, just," and, "my body, love-
"Your fucking pussy, Yunjin, holy shit, it's - fucking - so, god," you all but growl out.
Pounding into the tight clench of her cunt.
The bed in the other room might be the better choice, the sheets and pillows for more support than the hard wall she's propped against. But the glass, to see the view and take her up against it: it feels nice, cool and comfortable, even when your motion makes it fogged and sticky with condensation. She had, when your first thrust pushed inside the molten heat of her pussy, reached around the corner - fingertips splaying wide apart, up, along the foggy pane, watching the shadow of her palms turn blurry and indistinguishable against the soft glow of neon beyond.
"I'm cumming," you tell her, "I'm cumming - fuck," before shoving her body even further into the glass. Fucking her hard - just short of bending her to the point of where she might break.
That last stroke or two goes a little wild; all that coiled and pressurized want and need, boiling over the moment you fuck your cum deep into her trembling body. This time, your sounds aren't just the thoughtless hum and groan from the depth of your lungs, but some collection of dirty words, grunts. Nasty things. A whole host of obscenities: like how it's for the sake of claiming, leaving something of yourself behind. How you're pulling the smooth, curve of her hips into your body to push as much of yourself inside the gripping warmth of her. How your hot cum is starting to spill from her pink, perfect, hole - all for the better because when you take your thumb and swirl and trace and smear all along her slippery-wet slick, she gets like this: squirming in these lazy, needy little wriggles against your touch.
It takes the two of you sometime longer to move. Not long, but, you know, a little while.
When it is that Yunjin comes back to herself, you feel the smile as the ghost over your arm.
The kind of thing to ask, though you're too fucked to pay attention, are questions about life: where do you go to school, how long will you stay? All of that. There's a quiet moment where your mind plays back, vaguely, a little more intensely, the realization - and regret of it, the waste - of fucking a stranger for a night.
And in a real short moment:
"That was - really good," she says, still not recovered quite enough to walk.
Yunjin sounds all that same: a stranger. Not familiar. That's, like, your last chance or whatever. Before this becomes a one-off.
("Stay for a while?" is what she doesn't manage to ever ask.)
"Have to leave early tomorrow." And she looks at you, shoulders dipping at the ends. She says things like: "my work," and "we have an international flight. Customs is a bitch."
"Oh," is what you say to all that, looking her body over again, drinking down all the small details of her. The ones you'll lose forever after tonight. All of them, you know.
All because that's how it had to be, from the start.
"For sure."
Yunjin's hands are twisting at the end of her hair, stroking and brushing through the silky, black strands. Just for something to do: maybe, optimistically to keep herself occupied with some semblance of a thought that has nothing at all to do with how she can't seem to shake this sudden, cresting wave of frustration - how there's an urgent throb from deep within, pushing into her skin like a force.
You swallow. Try to smile. "It was fun."
-
The hotel's checkout desk is staffed by a cheerful looking man, almost fresh out of high-school. Too cheerful a smile, perhaps, and maybe a little too bright for the time of day. You'd been busy pacing the lobby, trying not to stare at your phone for the third or fourth time since stepping out of the elevator. Your feet have scuffed the ground under the coffee table, around the floral couches - almost tripping over the boutiques lined in the middle of this path. Likely you'd have considered them if you weren't focused elsewhere.
Thinking about how you'd put off any discussion about piecing back together your rental suit.
"Did you have a good stay, sir?" the concierge asks, reaching out across his desk to pick up a card. He's placing a machine in front of him.
Your face warms ever-so-slightly. "Wonderful."
"That's what we like to hear. Just swipe your key here."
The machine's screen flashes and there's another cheerful beep, indicating everything was processed.
"Could you get me my receipt?"
"Absolutely. One second."
And the printer whirs to life: spitting out line-after-line of printed data. Until there are twelve characters of nonsense and garbage, including but not limited to the link to a questionnaire and an explanation for all the boxes marked 'x'. It also indicates your total costs (minimal, really) and lists a detailed breakdown of services: breakfast, in-room bar, laundry, towels - all the necessities.
"There, would you like- wait. Sir? Someone asked me to hand this to you," and after reaching under the desk, "looks like a suit jacket of sorts."
"Oh."
He raises an eyebrow. "From the event, I'm assuming."
It's hard to tell what it's about. But as you wrap your fingers into the cloth of the fabric, tug at it a bit, there's a note that slips and falls to the floor.
You sort of frown, skeptical. Fumble with the note. And the note says this:
In your absence, I helped myself to your jacket, your wallet, an extra serving of breakfast, as well as a large iced-coffee. Promise you I'll get the next one. Call me: (xxx)-xxx-xxxx.
Affectionately, your (girl)friend for an evening,
Huh Yunjin
2K notes · View notes
ja3yun · 5 months
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Picturesque | P.SH
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bf!sunghoon x gf!reader
warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (m&f receiving), pet names, fluff, pornography (? sunghoon takes pictures while they do the deed), multiple orgasms, they're sickeningly cute, not proof read, anything i've missed lmk
wc: 4.6k+
synopsis: it's your boyfriend sunghoon's birthday and you want to make it special. your present goes down much better than anticipated.
a/n: hi! it's my best boys' birthday today <3 i know you're all waiting for the next part of tstab but i couldn't resist to post this. its just a one shot because i love him sm and my brain is always thinking about him but esp on his birthday. hope you like it!
You open your eyes to darkness, the only light coming from the orange streetlight outside. Warmth is felt around your waist and down your back as your boyfriend, Sunghoon, sleeps soundly. Looking at the clock you see it read 3.34am. Perfect.
Today was Sunghoon’s 21st birthday. He said he didn’t want a big fuss, simply to have everyone around to your shared apartment for some dinner and drinks. One thing about your boyfriend is that he was a simple guy with simple needs. That didn’t mean you couldn’t decorate the place for him though.
Planning this was a strategic effort even though it seemed simple. Sunghoon was smart, too smart, and if you slipped up even once about your plans he could easily piece it together. It’s not like you were preparing some big extravagant surprise with fireworks and magicians or something, no, you couldn’t even dream of something so lavish. Truth is with both of you being University students with minimum-wage part-time jobs, you were barely making rent. You don’t regret moving in together, it was the right decision, you just wished the government wasn’t filled with incapable idiots and put everyone in a cost-of-living crisis. So you have to make do with what you have, even if you think it’s not enough.
Peeling your lover's arm from your waist you make haste to start decorating the living room. Your flat was small so you had to be extremely quiet, like don’t breathe quiet, but with you and your lack of ability to produce any noise lower than 120 decibels it is going to be a challenge. Sunghoon loved how loud you were compared to his quieter demeanor, making sure to tell you to be as loud as you want and that he would never complain. He especially made this known in your bedroom.
You put on his white shirt from the night before and gingerly shut the door behind you as you vacate the room, leaving Sunghoon sleeping. In your hall cupboard, you had hidden an Asda bag filled with decorations like banners, balloons, and streamers. Their selection of stuff is to be desired and none of it matches but you’ll make it work. 
Looking around your living room with a sigh of discontentment you place all the decorations out on your coffee table. “Okay, where do I start?” Your voice is a whisper as you speak to yourself. “I should start with balloons. Yeah, balloons.”
The balloons you wanted were the big number balloons so you could have the 21 as the centrepiece but the very bitter middle-aged lady in Card Factory made it very clear there weren’t any 2’s in store. What kind of place runs out of 2’s? You had to settle for black, white, and gold multi-pack.
You shut your eyes tight and swallow your breath down as the plastic rustles far too loudly. “Shhh.” A warning to the inanimate object is wasted but it’s all you can think to do. This is going to take a while.
As the morning goes on you’ve managed to blow up the balloons and group them into 3-a-piece, hanging them up on each side of the big window and in the corners. You thought you were a goner when one of the white balloons almost escaped your grasp and started flying around the room but you grabbed it just in time. Checking the time on the clock you see it’s 4.30am. It really took you an hour for the balloons. Banners were next on your list but they should be easier surely.
Grabbing the automne you’ve been using as a ladder you successfully put 3 banners up in 20 minutes. If you had the time you’d celebrate but you still had so much to do before he gets up. “One more.” You place your hands on your hips and blow some hair out of your face as you smile. It’s ugly, it doesn’t match the others at all. The banner is silver with just the letters ‘Happy Birthday’ held together by a tacky white ribbon. You really wish you could do better than this but alas here you are climbing up to situate it above the TV. This is a little trickier since you have to stretch to reach the wall because of the TV unit that sticks out. 
You fail to notice your boyfriend leaning by the doorframe with his arms crossed and a cheeser of a smile on his face. He wanted to see how long it would take you to notice his presence but he thinks he’ll be waiting a long time. You’re too engrossed in your task to even hear his footsteps coming up behind you.
“Babe?” His deep morning voice scares you and you stumble on the automne, almost falling backward. Sunghoon’s eyes widen as he registers what's happening and rushes to catch you. “Shit, Y/N. You okay?” He places one of his warm hands on your backside and the other on your knee, stroking them both gently to make sure you’re okay.
Only your heart was not okay, thumping loudly as a rush of heat spreads through your chest from the adrenaline of nearly crashing into the table behind you. When you calm down you laugh and lean on his shoulder to step down. “I’m okay.”
Now you’ve properly come to you bring your hands to your mouth as your eyes widen. “You’re not supposed to be up this early!” As if it’s his fault you slap his chest and he chuckles in disbelief.
“Sorry, babe, if I had known you were planning to surprise me I would have slept longer.” Oh. He’s right but still. Not fair.
“I didn’t even get to put up the streamers or that shitty banner.” Dramatically, you wave your arms around and scowl at the devil banner. “It was supposed to be finished so when you walked in I could go ‘Ta-Da!’ and you would be all like ‘Oh my god, Y/N. You’re the best girlfriend ever. This is incredible.’” Sunghoon lets out a loud laugh and brings his hands to your face.
“Okay, okay, let me walk back in and we’ll do it again.” You pout at his suggestion but shake your head as much as you can considering he’s now squishing your cheeks.
“There’s no point now.” Sunghoon sees your disappointment and he matches your saddened expression.
“I’m sorry, babe. You worked so hard on this and I ruined it.”
“Yeah, you did.” You joke while he places a kiss on your forehead and lets you go. 
Sunghoon looks around the room at all your efforts. His eyes are filled with admiration and love, everything you did was his favourite but somehow you top it every time. All that energy you spent wasting on worry because you couldn’t give him more was so silly because he was so appreciative that you would even take the time to do any of this, especially when he said he didn’t want a  fuss.
His eyes meet yours and he sighs, “Beautiful, you didn’t have to do all this.” You are so busy between all your Uni work and grueling shifts at the restaurant that he doesn’t even know when you had time to get any of this stuff. “It’s just my birthday.”
“It’s your 21st! It’s special!” You protest. “I would have done something more extra but,”
He knows. It’s tight right now between bills and time but none of that matters to him, not right now, not when he has you beside him. “Babe it’s perfect, really. I like the uh,” he points between the decorations, “the green and pink banner and the gold balloons, brings a certain class to the room.” He jokes and you hide your face in embarrassment in his chest, mumbling a little ‘It’s all they had’. “Y/N I love it.” He bends down a little until his face is just below yours, “Seriously. Thank you.”
All the trouble was worth it just to see his smile right now. You peck his lips, “Happy Birthday, Hoonie.” Circling your arms around him as he towers back over you, he kisses the top of your head and then pulls away slightly to kiss your lips. Sunghoon feels so loved by you. The kiss is filled with love and desire so when you pull back he audibly groans.
“Do you want your present?” Not unlike you, but you’re nervous. You had been saving up for his gift since February so no pressure or anything. Inside you’re screaming, your brain working overtime in the anxious department. What if he hates it? “Or do you want to wait a bit?”
“If you’re the present then I’ll take it right now.” He captures your lips back into a kiss. If he wasn’t so into this kiss he would have noticed your playful eye roll. Sunghoon had the impeccable ability to make you have butterflies in your stomach while also frustrating you at how horny he is. He truly is still just a man.
“Hoonie I’m serious.” You pull away and he sighs.
“So am I.” His large hands grope your ass to pull you towards him. When he looks at your face he removes his hands from your body and holds them up defensively. “Okay, I get it. But I told you nothing crazy.” 
Sunghoon didn’t care for gifts and that’s why giving this one to him made you feel like you were going to throw up and cry. He was either going to love it or be mad that you bought it.
“Close your eyes.” Doing as he’s told he screws his eyes shut and you turn to dig through the automne. It wasn’t the safest place to leave it considering it took for him to look for one letter or magazine to find it, but it’s better than nothing. The present is perfectly wrapped with glossy white paper, accented with a gold ribbon, you wanted it all to be perfect. “Put out your hands.”
Once his hands are flat you place the box gently in his hands and he opens his eyes. His smile falls a little as he looks between the box and you. “Y/N this is big.” He’s skeptical and his face doesn’t hide it which sends your anxiety through the roof. “Please don’t tell me it’s something exp-”
“Can you just appreciate it and open it please?” He’s hurt by your words. Of course he cherishes anything you do or buy for him, he just doesn’t want you wasting money on him and with the size of this box, he fears you might have.
“Babe of course I appreciate it, you know I do.” You pout and push the box to his chest. 
“Then open it and tell me you love it. And don’t get mad.” When you say that he shuts his eyes. “I promise it’s nothing like mad expensive. Scouts honour.” You hold a hand to your chest and one in the air.
Sitting down on the couch he unwraps the gift and sees a plain black box. His fingertips feel the edges before he opens it and his eyes widen bigger than they ever have before, he doesn’t move. 
He hates it. Obviously he does. You bite your nails looking at him slowly take out the gift and examine it. “Y/N this is..” He trails off, looking intently at it.
Last year Sunghoon had gotten back into photography, just a hobby, nothing major, but he found a real passion in it this year. He carried the thing everywhere, taking pictures of everything he found pretty - most of the memory card was filled with you. Nonetheless, he didn’t have a case for it, and considering it cost him like 2 months' worth of rent, and that was it being second-hand, you felt like he needed to protect it properly. 
So you got him a custom leather case to fit his vintage Minolta TC-1 camera, his initials embroidered on the front lefthand side. The Etsy seller was even nice enough to throw in a strap that matched. You were lying when you said it wasn’t super costly, it did take months to save up for, but as you see his shocked face change into one filled with glee, you know it was worth it.
“Y/N, this is too much.” The smile on his face said otherwise, it was just perfect.  “Babe, seriously, this must have cost you a shit ton of money.” 
Shrugging you play it off, “Nah, got a good deal on it.” 
Like a child at Christmas, he stands up and strides over to embrace you, the hug said everything he couldn’t. There were no words to describe how much he loved it, how much he loved you.
“Let me go get my camera!” Sunghoon was easily excitable and as he ran to your bedroom to retrieve his camera you could only laugh. The pitter-patter of his feet getting faster the closer he got back to the living room was the cutest thing you have ever seen. Struggling to get the camera in the case due to excitement, you walked over and took the case from his hands, “Here, babe.” You slot it in and thank the heavens it fits and in hindsight, you probably should have checked before giving it to him.
“Babe, I love it so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He kisses all over your face. He was such a cutie, you never understood why people were intimidated by him. But then again, with a face so gorgeous who wouldn’t be? And you were the only one that really got to see this side of him.
“I’m glad you like it, Hoonie.” He corrects you and repeats the word ‘love’ which makes you smile.
Turning the camera on he brings it to his face and adjusts it. You take the opportunity of his preoccupied state to clear up some of the mess from the decorations and his present. You contemplate whether you should attempt to finish decorating but you don’t see the point, maybe finish it before the others come over.
A shutter sound echoes in the quiet room and you spin around to see your birthday boy smiling widely as the camera is pointed at you.
“Hoon, stop! I’m not even dressed yet.”
Your words seem to spark a mischievous glint in his eye and you have no clue what he is thinking. Sunghoon slowly walks over to you, “You know,” he wears the strap of the camera around his neck and takes the rubbish from your hands and discards it to the couch, “That’s not a bad idea.” Perplexment shows on your face. When did anything you just say sound like an idea? “I could take your picture.” 
“Babe you always take my picture.” 
“Not while I’m fucking you I haven’t.” 
Your jaw hits the floor. For the first time in your life, you are speechless, utterly gobsmacked. “No way.” You’re a generally shy person despite your loud personality so you would never think to do anything like this.
“Come on, Y/N.” He strokes your hair and uses a lower octave voice to try and persuade you, “They’ll just be for me, literally no one else will see them. You know I would never show them to anyone.”
Evidently he wouldn’t, he doesn’t even like it when you both go out dressed up nice and guys even think about looking at you. This was for him when you were on long shifts or in classes. Something he could use to jerk off to when his wank bank of memories won’t suffice. 
He’s too persuasive because the next thing you know you’re taking his hand and pulling him to the bedroom. Glancing around the surroundings you sigh. “Can I tidy up first?” 
“Why?” He laughs confused.
“I just don’t want the pictures taken with all this mess lying around, it’s un-aesthetically pleasing.”
His quiet almost silent laugh rings in your ears and you smile defeated. “Baby, do you think for one fucking second I am going to be looking at the slippers on the ground or Mr. Giles in the corner.” Mr. Giles, your childhood teddy bear, has seen far too much of what has gone on in these four walls but why is it when Sunghoon mentions his name you want to cuddle him and apologise?
“Mr. Giles is camera shy okay?” Your boyfriend picks him up, places a kiss on his nose, and places him facing the wall. 
“There. See.” He pushes you to lie on the bed, “Now, let me do my job, yeah?” His hands are on your waist in no time, the camera swinging from his neck now lays on your stomach as he bends down. The coldness of the object makes you shiver but you’re soon heating up when you feel his fingers dip into the waistband of your panties and pull them down. You hear him mutter ‘So fucking beautiful’ as his face is level with your core. Thinking he’s just going to get right down to business, you spread your legs but he stands up. “I need to take a before shot.” 
Click
Click
Click
He takes pictures as you lay there in only his shirt, some at a lower angle to get your perfect pussy in focus. His eyes are telling you he’s trying to refrain from just delving in, from absolutely ingurgitating you, it’s a patience he usually doesn’t have. 
“On your knees for me, beautiful.” Being obedient like always, you do what he says. “Gonna get you to suck my cock, okay?” You don’t wait to be told what to do next because your hands are reaching for his boxers to pull them down. Cocks are either fucking beautiful or ugly, and Sunghoon had the prettiest cock of them all. His reddening tip slaps his stomach and you mewl out loud. “Don’t show off for the camera baby, okay? Just do it the way you always do.” 
Sunghoon loves the way you lovingly lap his cock, trying to fit it all in your mouth but he’s so big you can’t take it all the way in without choking. It’s cute to him how eager to please him you are.
You sit your hands on his hips and lick a stripe from his balls to the tip before taking his tip in your mouth. “Fuck.” You hear Sunghoon breathe out and it makes you look up. This is the moment you wish you could take the camera and snap a picture of him. Maybe you need to suggest that at a later date.
Right now it’s Sunghoon’s birthday and it’s whatever he wants. You suck his cock in earnest, grabbing the base to cover the part of his cock you can’t fit into your mouth. He’s like you’re favourite meal and while you used to hate sucking dick there’s something so pleasing about him and the way he tastes. 
Forgetting his original intentions he grabs your hair and tightens it into a tight pony, pulling at it. “B-babe, so fucking good at this.” It’s not until he looks down at you working him up and down he sees the camera. He uses both hands to put you into focus and takes a few pictures. Some are just a close-up of your lips enveloping his shaft, others are simple POV shots. It’s when you look up as you hear the shuttering from the camera that he starts really taking the pictures with determination to capture how beautiful you look in this moment. The eye contact to the camera has his chest growling. “That’s my pretty girl, made for the camera, huh?”
He wasn’t big on dirty talk but right now he felt like a whole different person, and this person wanted you to hear how good you made him feel.
Picking up the pace you start to slabber down your chin, losing yourself in the action. Sunghoon is so close to cumming that when he pulls you off his cock he whimpers. You are both panting and clouded with lust, your plumped-up lips aren’t helping Sunghoon, and his leaking cock isn’t helping you. 
“You’re a natural on this camera, babe.” His hand reaches down to wipe the saliva and particles of his cum from your lips. Click. Another perfect moment. “Can’t wait for you to see it from my point of view.”
“Sunghoon, I love you but I am not looking at those ever.” There is a big part of you that actually would like to see it, but you’re too embarrassed to even imagine what you look like. 
“You’re missing out, beautiful. Nothing more picturesque than you choking on my cock.” Sunghoon says the filthy sentence so casually and it flips your stomach. “Lay down for me.”
Removing the camera from his frame he places it on the bedside table. Is he finished taking pictures? “Hoon wha-”
Sunghoon’s face is in between your legs and licking up your folds before you can ask your question but his actions answer it anyway. If he was your favourite meal, you were certainly his. Fuck, you were his favourite everything. He was sucking your clit so suddenly you arched your back, the action pressing your pussy further into his face which elicited a hum of approval from him. The sucking was harsh, overwhelming, so much so you hadn’t even noticed how his fingers lightly trailed your thigh. 
His palm pushed your right leg open further, his mouth never letting up on your sensitive bud.
“Hoonie,” A moan of his name leaves your lips, your hand grabbing him and pushing it towards your entrance. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing but still listens to your silent request, his middle finger circling your opening. 
The birthday boy wishes he could do this and take pictures because he knows you look so fucking beautiful right now. Even the image in his head of you arched in his work shirt, mouth agape and moaning, could make him cum right now. Instead, it just fuels him so keep going at your clit, throwing in some light nibbles every so often.
Slipping his middle finger into you he curls it exactly how you like it. After 2 years of fucking you, he’d say he could easily get a PhD in how to please you, certainly how to make you cum. And what you like is way more than just one finger, so he adds two more sending you crazy.
“Fuck, fuck, Hoonie, so good.” The moans and profanities leaving your lips make him smirk, knowing you’re close. He makes his tongue rigid and uses it to stimulate your nub, going fast and hard in rhythm with his fingers and within a minute your thighs are clamping his head and your coating his tongue with your cum. “Shit, my god, m’cumming.”
He almost laughs at you because of course you’re coming, he’s tasting it right now and it’s better than any meal or cake he’s going to get today. 
Your trembling thighs open slightly and he peaks his head up to see you, quickly grabbing his camera. “What a fucking sight,” Sunghoon whispers before clicking. Your arm is laid over your face, his shirt is held together by one button in the middle of your torso, and most importantly your cunt is glistening. He wants to blow this picture up on a canvas and hang it in the living room, but you would never agree and his friend would never leave your house. 
As you catch your breath, Sunghoon crawls to hover over you. “Babe you look so fucking good right now.”
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You laugh and finally bring your arm away from your eyes. Your essence still on his lips somehow makes you wetter than you already are.
“You’re so funny.” His sarcastic tone makes you laugh harder. “Now I need to make a decision
“What?”
“Do I want your pussy filled with my cum, or it splattered on your stomach?" 
Oh, you might just have a second orgasm right now. It’s not implausible at this moment. “Well, you have my permission for anything,” You kiss his lips, moaning as he instantly sticks his tongue down your throat. Breaking the moment you bite your lip, “And y’know, if you can cum twice you could get a double shot.”
The camera is pushed back on the table and his dick is touching your entrance, “I’ll make it a surprise what one comes first then, huh?” With that, he’s sliding into your heat, both of you gasping in unison. You’re tight around his cock, your walls dragging themselves perfectly along his hard shaft. 
“Shit, babe, feel so fucking good.” If he could record this moment and make it 4DX he would hire out a Cineworld screen every day and watch it on repeat.
Thrusting into you with purpose, one of his big hands gently encloses your throat, not tight enough to cut off your air but enough to have you roll your eyes back. It’s taking all his willpower not to just fuck you rough and hard because if he does he’ll cum instantly and that’s just not going to happen, not on his watch. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. So perfect.” He brings his mouth to your ear, “My pretty girl, I love you so much.” 
You cry out in love and pleasure as he starts to pick up the pace, his cock hitting your soft spot every time. To him, you were the only present he ever needed. 
Sunghoon nibbles your earlobe, keeping his rhythm steady, continuing to whisper in your ear, “You wanna cum?”
“Yes, fuck yes please, Hoon.” He takes your hand from your throat and places it beside your head to give him more stability as he relentlessly fucks into you, his lips sucking in yours as he loses control, his only thought right now is to make you come undone on his dick. 
From the last orgasm you had it doesn’t take long before you’re cumming again, the aftershocks still buzzing and only adding to the sensation. You’re gripping his arms and crawling down them, legs shaking as you loosely wrap them around him. There’s no energy left in your body so as he fucks you deep, your spent body only moves due to the power of his thrusts. “You’re doing so good, I’m nearly there, babe.” He mumbles into your neck as he nuzzles into you.
You’re getting a tiny bit overstimulated but you know he’s close so you bear with it, mustering up all you have left to whisper, “Come on, Hoonie, don’t you wanna get the perfect shot?” 
His seed fills you instantaneously as your words echo in his ear, his body jittering as he coats your walls, his hips losing their rhythm and coming to a standstill. 
Heavy breathing and banging heartbeats are all you both hear as you compose yourselves. Sunghoon falls on top of you, his softening cock still buried inside you. Rubbing soothing circles on his back makes him smile widely and look at you. “Thank you, babe. For the present.”
“You’re welcome.” Lazily you plant a feather kiss on his nose. You reach over and grab the camera, “Well, you got a picture to take.” 
Smirking, Sunghoon takes the camera and slides out of you, taking in the view of his cum dripping out of you onto the bedsheets. It’s a work of art. “Pose for me, pretty girl.” You open your legs a little wider and try your hardest to look sexy for him.
The camera clicks a few times, each shot more beautiful than the last. You’re his muse, his everything, his best birthday present.
“Now,” He puts the camera away and lays on you once again, “I think for my next birthday I might ask for a camcorder.” 
1K notes · View notes
victoria-grimesss · 8 months
Note
2 ideas!
One, I loved your soap w secretary girlfriend! What about something similar for ghost and konig?
Two, what about a COD fic where the lights go out and you are stuck in the dark together? 😘 any character you want!
masterlist
->Paring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader & König x Fem!Reader
->Words: 0.8k
->A/N: MDNI! These are so fun to write!!! Also adding that wonderful 'idea of the stuck in the dark' fic to the list ;)
Sure, Ghost and König are both big strong military men. They're intimidating and stoic. Tall and broad but they both love their secretary girlfriend differently.
Ghost:
He's a brute. Large and broad and dark. How you became accustomed to him was more comical than anything. One complaint report landed on your desk for him to pick up, which he never did. His training methods were.. less than desirable.. which you can imagine just looking at him and how he just stands and stares, barking commands.
34 total complaint reports from the newest training group landed on your desk, making a rather annoying pile. None of the complaints would ever be resolved, Ghost's training method is foolproof. So, you walked down the hallway, papers in hand and a scowl on your face straight to that man. You slam the door open to the training yard your heels sounding extra loud. Your stocking covered legs and short skirt is the view of the century out here.
"Lieutenant Riley, your complaint papers have occupied an annoyingly large space on my desk. Please be better about picking them up from now on." You shoved the papers into his chest and storm away. Simon was putty in your hand from then on.
--
He would stand arms crossed in your doorway as you helped the others. Waiting patiently, his stare dark and unwavering.
He loves to watch you work. Your soft hands filing the papers expertly you know every little place where everything goes. He sees how the guy you're helping out checks out your ass as you stand. He shoulder checks him on his way out and then he stands at the front and center of your desk, and you look up through your lashes at him.
"Can I help you Simon?" You ask him in a sultry voice as you reapply your lipstick.
"Yea. I can think of a couple things."
--
Your panties are around one ankle, your heels barely hanging on to your feet as your legs are wrapped around his hips and he's ruthless with his thrusts. You're on lunch and he took you to the file room, you're on a dusty old desk that's only used for storage. All the contents thrown to the ground as Simon couldn't wait any longer to be inside you.
"Fuck, you love this yea? Fuckin you right here panties round your ankle you can hardly focus on me."
He's right your head has been long spinning and your eyes struggle to stay focused. He drives himself into your wet heat so hard and rough your hair has become a half up half down mess in the process.
"Grippin me so fuckin tight love, maybe I start coming down every day, feed you my cock on your break. Would you like that, look at me when I'm talking to you."
Simon frequently rips your stockings when he's gripping your thighs, especially when he cums.
"Fuckin hell love you're a fucking mess dripping on me like this, going to cum deep inside you then you'll go back and sit all pretty at your desk with me dripping out of you. You want that love? Yea you do."
Simon is a ruthless lover, he can be sweet too. When he's not confined by a 30-minute lunch break window of course.
--
König:
König is top dog, the big guy on the ground. So you see him often. You'll keep track of his appointments and meetings, bring him food and coffee when he works late nights and eventually, he invites you to share a meal with him. After that he keeps calling you back to his office.
König is an older guy and his knees aren't all that good honey so be a doll and help him out. You'll get down on yours and wrap those pretty lipstick coated lips around him and his mouth is watering just watching you take as much as you can.
He's found that he has a certain fixation for the lipstick you wear and sometimes requests you wear certain colors for him when you go down on him. He loves the way it leaves rings around his cock and he'll stroke your hair as he speaks to you.
"Taking me so well mein liebling, you see that last ring of lipstick you left on me? Let's try to get even lower this time, you're a good girl I believe in you."
You'll take as much as you can, and when he finally trains his little secretary to take all of him he cums as soon as your lips meet the base of him leaving red lip marks on his skin.
And when he's feeling especially needy he'll call you into his office and have you straddle him. He'll kiss your neck as he takes off your heels, he knows how expensive they are, I mean he did buy them for you, so he undoes the little straps with care and sets them on the floor.
He'll caress you with his big hands and have you ride his thigh hiking your skirt up your hips so he can rest his hands behind his head and watch you moan and sob on top of him.
"You look so beautiful like this mein liebling, you're leaving quite the wet spot on me this time. How many times should I make you cum like this before I let you ride me."
He's cruel when he wants to be but it's all in good fun. He's spoil you afterwards.
2K notes · View notes
jyoongim · 23 days
Note
I'm sorry to add to your likely ever growing list of requests but may I pitch an idea:
Alastor absolutely head over heals for a married reader, but since his mama raised him right he'd never make a real move. He's sure he can show you he's sooo much better anyway, and you'd leave your husband for him eventually.
BUT then his rut hits and the chivalry goes out the window no matter how hard he tries to stay sane and he just NEEDS reader right NOW, wedding ring be damned.
Title: UNWILLINGLY YOURS❤️‍🔥
Part 2!
warning: Reader is married! Non-con sex (I DIDNT EVEN KNOW I COULD WRITE THIS????) possessive, jealous, obsessive behaviors, one-sided pining, breeding kink/impregnantion, Al is a homewrecker!!!, husband is a sweet bean!, rough sex, creampie, marriage guilt
Let me know if I’m missing something!!
———————————————————————
You were a constant face in Cannibal Town. You often helped Rosie at her Emporium, helping her sell her goodies, have a good chat, and help those who come to see the female Overlord.
You could often be found in an apron splattered in blood with a sharp grin on your face.
Alastor found you adoring. He thought you were the sweetest thing that ever graced Hell.
So imagine the way his shadow simmered when he saw a wedding ring shining on your finger…
The Overlord’s eyes narrowed when he saw your husband would come in, greeting Rosie and before the sinner could locate you, you were chirping happily as you jumped into his arms, dragging the man to taste what you had been cooking.
He knew it wasn’t right.
To lust after a taken woman.
But seven hells were you beautiful.
You considered Alastor a friend. You were oblivious to his flirting and often thought he was just teasing.
He was a well-mannered demon and the two of you had a lot in common.
He deemed himself the better man.
Your husband was average. Alastor couldnt understand why you married him.
You needed someone strong and powerful. 
Someone who would worship the ground you walked on.
Someone who would worship you like you deserved.
You deserved to be spoiled, having things at your disposal at just a glance.
Alastor could give you all of those things if you just said the word.
If you would just leave your husband…..the world could be yours.
But all the gifts, flowers, and dates didnt seem to get through your head.
You kindly reminded the deer that you were married and you adored your spouse, but you gave him your appreciation in his efforts.
So like a gentleman, Alastor backed down. If you truly loved your husband than who was he to mess up a happy home?
But that desire to have you all to himself never went away.
You suited Alastor.
Your manners,personality, interests…
You were his perfect standard.
But you were already someone else’s.
But Alastor could wait…
————————————————————————
“Rosie I haven’t seen Alastor around, he hasn’t fall ill has he?” You asked the tall woman worriedly.
Rosie waved a dismissive hand “Oh he’s fine dear. he always goes into hiding every now and again. Probably just busy at that hotel of his”
You tugged your lips, the treat you had been making was one of the red demon’s favorite.
Maybe you should go and check on him?
After all…He was your friend.
”Im gonna take him some treats. I just want to check up on him.”
You knocked on the double doors of the hotel and waited.
You knocked again.
You heard some shuffling and then the door opened.
”What are you doing this way darlin?” 
You smiled softly seeing Alastor, holding up the goodies
”Hadn’t seen you in a while and was just worried that’s all. I was making these and know how much you love em”
The overlord let you in and you took in the hotel lobby.
It certainly had character.
You noticed Alastor hadn’t moved from the door and instead was staring at you. You tilted your head “You look like you wanna eat me Al” You wiggled your tail at him, smirking playfully
“But I doubt ill taste as good as these goodies I worked so hard on”
That seemed to snap him out of it as he cleared his throat, he escorted you to the radio tower.
Alastor was losing it.
His rut had came sooner than he anticipated and he has locked himself away until he had control over himself.
All he could think about was you.
And how you would look covered in his cum.
Covered? No that would be a waste…but if you were filled that was a different story.
Everyone had went out on some activity Charlie had planned so Alastor was holding the fort.
He had been stroking his cock, fisting the raging organ until it was pulsing and leaking. He had been thinking of you, the object of his affections and desires.
On your knees and begging to suck him.
He could feel an orgasm readying to erupt when a knock at the door interrupted his fantasy.
He growled and stomped to the front door when a familiar scent caught his nose.
You.
You were here.
Making sure he was okay.
You had been worried about him and even made him a snack.
Oh what a sweet thing you were.
If only you were his wife.
Alastor let you in, eyes raking over your figure as you looked around the hotel.
Eyes settling on the sway of your hips, before he heard your voice breakthrough the fog of desire.
”You look like you wanna eat me” you giggled.
 You were being playful. 
He knew that. 
But when you wiggled your backside, flickering your tail that set him off.
He was on you faster than you could blink, hands settling on your plush hips. His lips skimmed your ear “You would be even sweeter than these treats you’ve made.”
You shivered, trying to shrug him off “You’re just saying that”
Alastor chuckled as he nuzzled you, teeth nipping at your shoulder
”Oh I’d never lie about you darlin”
Your cheeks flushed and you went to move away from him when he pressed his hips against yours.
”A-Al?”
He growled against your ear, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him.
”You dont understand the effect you have on me my dear. It is taking everything in me to not have my way with you” 
You tried to jerk away from him, but he held fast, a soft frown showing on your face.
”Alastor… t-this i-is inappropriate Im..you know I’m married”
The second the word slipped from your lips Alastor let out a feral growl, twirling you around to face him.
His eyes were black and pupils narrowed as he bared his teeth at you.
”That is irrelevant to me dear. You think I care of your bond to that pathetic excuse of a man?”
You went to hiss at him. 
Bared your fangs and defended your marriage.
But Alastor found your anger to be his tipping point as he slammed his lips onto yours, catching you off guard.
Your eyes widened and you gasped subconsciously, making the red demon lean into you, swallowing the soft protests and whines you let out.
”A-Alastor..N-No I can’t…” you pulled away pushing against him, but the male didnt let you get away.
He sought after your lips, wanting to have his tongue down your throat. Sweet poisoned words spilled from his lips as he pressed you into his chest. 
“You’ll have to indulge me my dear. Youve been plaguing my mind for a while now and while I despise your husband, I respected you to give you space…”
A large hand wrapped around your neck, tightening. He tilted his head at you “However…you have approached me while I’m in season and reason have been slipping.”
In season? Your head was reeling. The fuck was he talking about… Oh!
Alastor had deer features… he…he was…
”What will your dear husband think when I send you back to him filled with my cum?” Alastor purred snapping you out of your thoughts.
You blinked, taking a step back, but he followed you.
You were pressed into a wall before you melted into the wall and found your back on a soft surface.
Alastor was on top of you, claws digging in your clothing; a rip met your ears and the cool air had you covering yourself.
“Alastor!” You yelped. The red demon grabbed at your hands, revealing your bare body to him.
Skin smooth like butter and free of marks. Your ample breasts were full and round, rising and falling with your rapid breathing.
His large hands kneaded the mounds, pinching and tweaking the soft peaks. His eyes roamed your soft stomach that was littered in stretch marks and slightly rounded, filtering into wide hips.
Satan you would look lovely carry his spawns.
“Al please! Let me go. I-Ill forget all about this incident and we can just pretend it never happened.” You placed your hands over his to slowly move them off your chest, he didnt protest.
 You knew Alastor. 
He wouldnt hurt you
His brain was just all twisted from hormones, he'll gain some sense.
Your breath caught when he pressed his nose against your heat.
Your thighs vibrated as a purr radiated through his chest.
”Such a sweet cunt” he mused, inhaling your scent.
“A-Al dont…i-I’m…I’m pregnant” you pleaded, trying to close your legs around his head and softly pushing him away from your intimate region.
Alastor stiffened at your words.
His eyes snapped to yours and then to your stomach.
Anger boiled inside him.
Pregnant? How dare someone-
“I-I wont tell my husband. We can just pretend this didnt happen. Just stop now and ill go” you tried to reason with the demon.
His eyes narrowed as a vicious growl ripped through his throat
Your husband…that’s right you weren’t his. You were married.
But he could fix that problem.
Alastor’s cock twitched at the thought.
”Oooh my dear that’s alright” he grinned up at you as he teased your slit. He lowered his head back between your legs
”Afterall…I would love to see you carrying my fawns”
Your eyes widened and before you could question him, Alastor sucked your clit into his mouth.
A ragged cry tore from your lips as the red demon lapped at your cunt. ”A-Al-lastor!”
Alastor swallowed the nectar that began to flow. 
You tasted better than he imagined.
Sweeter than honey.
He groaned as he pushed his tongue into your velvet walls, twirling and swirling to lap every drop your cunt produced.
You were trying to wiggle your hips away from him, but Alastor held your hips steady, nipping at your clit in warning.
Oh your husband had no idea of the treasure he had Alastor thought flicking your clit with his tongue. 
Such a perfect cunt.
Your soft groans of protests were music to his ears.
Suck. Lick. Flick. Repeat
Alastor tortured your poor puffy clit until your hips shuddered and rolling against his tongue. He moaned latching onto your cunt as you cried out, your nectar exploding into his mouth.
You panted as your heart thumped in your chest, feeling your body buzz as you floated.You took a deep breath maybe this was enough. Maybe he would let you go home.
You felt his kiss around your inner thighs and lick one final stripe up your slit, before moving his head from between your thighs.
Hes satisfied now…go-good…now to-
A heavy weight slapped against your thigh making you tense as you looked up at Alastor with horror in your eyes.
Tears welled in your eyes as a sob bubbled in your throat “N-no…no no no no no no!” Alastor’s hands cupped your cheeks as he tried to comfort your pleas, using his knees to widen your thighs.
”Its okay darling” he licked your wet cheek “You were such a good girl for me such a good girl” you felt him pepper your face in soft kisses. You pushed at his broad chest, hands pushing at anything you could shove, you shook your head in denial as he trapped you underneath him “Im pregnant! Y-You can’t! Please dont” You sobbed.
Alastor hissed, that jealous feeling rearing  “yeesss pregnant your husband must be so happy” you gasped as he pushed both your thighs to your chest, keeping them spread to expose your cunt and no pressure on your soft bump.
His cock stroked your cunt, angry red tip leaking as he rubbed against you.
“Your husband dont deserve you. You should be with a man who is feared and respected. Will worship you and the ground you walk…” He purred when his mushroom tip caught your clit
“Who can bring you to the peak of pleasure easily” 
Using his weight to hold your legs, he wiped the tears that streaked down your face, before slipping a hand between you.
“Al…N-no! AH!” The cry didnt even fully leave your lips when Alastor slotted his lips on yours as his hips slammed against yours, cock breaching your gummy walls, stretching.
Alastor’s antlers grew when he felt your cunt squeeze around him, he pulled his hips back and pushed back in, groaning into your mouth when your walls gave way to him.
He chuckled against your lips.
Oh you were divine…
No way was he letting you go…
————————————————————————
“Oh that’s my good girl yeeesss I knew you’ll be good for me”
Alastor rasped as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, hips ramming into yours.
You couldnt even acknowledge his praise as he fucked you.
You felt numb.
dirty.
You had broken your wedding vows to your husband.
”You take my cock so well, knew you would. Such a sweet cunt.”
Alastor fucked your pussy like it was his.
Your body covered in love bites, sweat, and cum.
so much cum.
Alastor had emptied rope after rope of creamy cum inside you, filling you up til it pooled under your ass.
“You’ll look so pretty carrying my spawns doll. You take my cum well…fuck! Baby that’s right milk this cock take my cum take it fuck!”
Your back arched and a soft mewl left your lips.
He let out a low hiss as he slotted his hips against yours, cock twitching as your cunt fluttered and clenched around him, releasing another load of cum inside your womb.
Your thighs shook as he thrusted against you softly.
Alastor whispered sweet praises and affections against your skin.
”you take me so well”
”sweet cunt and its all mine”
He pulled out of you with a wet pop and yours flopped, a steady stream of cream dripping from your abused hole.
He licked from your neck to your hair, purring 
”that’s my girl”
Your body finally had enough and your vision went dark.
—————————————————————————————
“Honey you had me so worried! Thanks for bringing her home Alastor” your husband said appreciatively to the red demon, who smiled at the man. Your husband kissed your cheek as you walked through the door, he looked you over “Why dont you head to bed hmmm? You seem tired”
Alastor smiled wickedly “Yes do get your rest dear. Wouldnt want to faint again”
Your husband thanked the Overlord for bringing you home and as you turned to head upstairs, you heard him say to your husband
”Congratulations to you both by the way. Shell make a fine mother” you paused slightly before heading continuing up the stairs. Your husband laughed and thanked him again.
But before the door closed, Alastor watched as your husband ran behind you, you offered him a small smile that didnt meet your lips. As the man pulled you into a kiss, not seeing the tear that ran down your cheek. Your husband tried to palm your ass, but you quickly grabbed his hand.
His eyes followed the two of you going upstairs.
Alastor smirked watching a stream of cum run down your leg.
Yes congratulations indeed.
——————————————————————————
Part 2 is linked and posted!
744 notes · View notes
asilentsongbird · 8 months
Text
For you, I think I would learn how to love
For my lovely anon who asked for husband Neuvillette, I bring you a whole fic. This man has me in a chokehold and I need everyone to know how much I love him.
Pairing: Neuvillette x fem! Reader Word Count: ~7k
Summary: Tired of waiting for you to find a husband, your parents find one for you. One who happens to be the Chief Justice of Fontaine. A new city, a new life, a new husband. So much new, and you could only hope, deep in your heart, that you would find happiness and love in Fontaine.
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The first time you meet him, it's rather formal.
It's not as though you have much of an option. Though you certainly couldn't say you expected when you woke up to be told that your parents had found a husband for you, and that you'd be married in a week.
They had been pushing marriage lately, saying you were the right age, but the thought had been far from your mind. You thought you still had time, and the next thing you knew, you were being brought to Fontaine.
It's certainly different from Liyue. The hills and mountains are different from the Stone Forrest. The air feels different, there's water heavy in it.
You wait, in an ornate room that feels much too fancy. You've been left alone for a brief moment, the most your parents have allowed since you were told the news.
Part of you wonders if you could escape if you jumped out the window. A quick glance told you that it was much too high to entertain that idea. You'd end up breaking a leg before you got out of this marriage.
The door opens. A man appears, with long white hair with blue streaks in it. Simply from his appearance, you can tell that this is someone important. Your spine straightens as sharp eyes land on you, zeroing in on you.
You felt small, for a moment. As though he was judging you for simply existing in a space you'd rather not be in. Though your parents didn't care if you had plans or wished to find a husband on your own.
The man doesn't say anything. He closes the door behind him with a click, and makes his way over to you. Despite the desire to shrink back, you stand your ground, until he finally stands before you.
Up close you can see more details. He towers over you in height, but you suppose most people would feel short compared to him. His eyes capture your attention the most, the pupils such a strange shape, but gorgeous nevertheless.
"I apologize for leaving you waiting," he starts, almost looking as lost as you on how to start.
You wave your hands frantically in front of you. "It's fine! I didn't expect anyone to come in. I was told I would be meeting-"
Saying future husband felt much too strange. The man in front of you notices your pause, and arches a single silver brow. You frantically try to remember the name of the man who is meant to be your fiance.
"Ah, sorry, I was meant to meet a Mister Neuvillette?" your voice stumbles awkwardly over the new word, still struggling with the accent.
On the trip to Fontaine, your parents had tried to give you lessons on the language, as though you would become fluent in the few hours it took to travel.
The man blinks. And then he blinks again, as though he's trying to figure out what you just said.
Apparently the lessons hadn't worked.
"Sorry, my accent needs work," you apologize. "I hear he's the Chief Justice?"
The man nods, slowly. "That is correct."
You hum, non-committal, waiting to see if your company decides to keep the conversation going. When he doesn't, you find yourself unable to think of words.
Well, this felt awkward. And from the way the man still seemed at a loss for words, he also felt the same.
The tension could almost cut a knife.
He clears his throat after a moment, the sound almost makes you jump.
"Yes, well..." he pauses, gesturing towards the couch. "I am sure monsieur Neuvillette will be here soon."
You take a seat near him. Not close enough to be inappropriate, but close enough that it would be clear that you were talking.  Maybe "monsieur Neuvillette" will see the two of you and decide that this marriage wasn't something he wanted a part of.
"Congratulations on your engagement," your new friend tells you after a moment. You give him a tight lipped smile.
"Thanks."
Once again, silence descends over you two. You fidget with your skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles from travel. Hopefully, it wasn't something your new husband would be upset about.
At least the silence didn't feel as oppressive this time. You let yourself relax, taking a deep, steadying breath.
"Can I ask you something?"
The man beside you nods. You still haven't gotten his name yet, you realize. You'd have to ask later, after some other questions. Who knows when your parents and future husband will be coming.
"Um...how is Neuvillette?" you tentatively ask, to which you only receive a rather blank, if not curious look.
You suppose you'll have to be more direct. Though it almost pains you.
But at least, if he's not kind, you would like a warning. Some way to prepare yourself for what the rest of your life is going to be like. Some women, they don't even get that. They were woken up on the day of their wedding, and the rest of their lives was at the whims of their husbands.
You steel yourself, and fully turn your attention to your friend.
"Is he kind?"
Something in him softens at that. He looks at you with an emotion that you can't recognize in that moment. Pity, maybe?
He opens his mouth, but before you can get your answer, the door opens.
Your parents lean in for a moment, see you sitting on the couch, talking to a stranger, but strangely have nothing bad to say about that. In fact, they look delighted.
"Are you two getting along well?" your mother asks you, somewhat reminding you of a cat just having caught a bird.
The satisfaction on her face made you uneasy, like there was a secret you were missing.
"Fine, thank you," your friend replied for you when you couldn't manage words. "Your daughter is very polite."
Your parents beam at that. The uneasy feeling in your stomach gets worse.
"Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette."
Somehow, it hadn't dawned on you. Your stomach feels like it falls into the floor, but Neuvillette doesn't seem to have any other reaction, looking at your parents. They don't even wither under his stare.
You never wanted to shrink into the floor more. You had just asked your future husband about himself. And more than that, you asked him if he was kind.
Your parents talk with Neuvillette, allowing you a moment to feel invisible and wallow in your self-pity and embarrassment.
At least, until you feel a small tug on the sleeve of your blouse.
It's one of the melusines, you had found them to be very cute upon first seeing them. Your parents hadn't explained much about them, so you found yourself blinking down at the small melusine.
"He is," she says to you, nodding.
You tilt your head to the side. Briefly, you feel eyes on you, but when you look at your parents, they're still talking to Neuvillette, and taking his attention.
"He's what?"
She hands you a long ribbon. It's a deep, ocean blue, the same color that Neuvillette is wearing.
"He is kind," she explains, patiently, as though you were a child. "I heard you ask."
Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, especially as she climbed up next to you, weaving the ribbon through your hair, and both your parents and Neuvillette turned to stare.
"Y/N, that is very rude to ask," your mother scolds, because that is the lot of women in life, only to worry about when men think of you and what might make you undesirable. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.
"Nonsense, it is a very reasonable question to ask. Why wouldn't someone want to know who they're marrying?" Neuvillette cuts in, before your mother can scold you any more.
Your parents fall silent, nodding their heads in agreement as though they hadn't been about to lecture you like a child. You would have laughed if it wasn't for the Melusine finishing with your hair.
"There," she says, with her self imposed job done. "Will you be having a wedding?"
You weren't sure your heart could take any more surprises today. Your cheeks hadn't even lost their blush from the first moment, at this point you didn't think they'd ever go back to their normal color.
"We'll have to see," you murmur, because you weren't completely sure yourself.
She nods, taking in your word and opinion as though it was law. Neuvillette didn't contradict you either, but did finally turn back to your parents.
You don't get too much of a chance to participate in most of the conversation. The Melusine, Sedene, as you learned the name of, asks you more questions that keep you occupied.
It's a welcome distraction. It's better than awkwardly listening to a conversation about your future where at least two of the three people here wouldn't even care for your input.
The jury was still out on Neuvillette.
Eventually though, it grew late, late enough that Sedene was sleeping with her head on your lap. It seemed that finally the other three were tired of negotiating over your life.
Before you knew it, you looked up from your lap just in time to see Neuvillette leave without even a goodbye, the door clicking behind him. Your parents look much too pleased with themselves, which you somehow didn't think was possible.
"I told you, the match would be a good one," your mother tells your father, pride seeping into her voice.
You're not so sure. You can't be sure. At least not yet.
"Yes," your father agrees, with the same fond voice he always had when he didn't want to argue with your mother, and it's easier just to agree.
It seems, just like the foundation of Liyue, that your future is set in stone.
You hope Fontaine will be kind to you.
-x-x-x-x-
You do not have a wedding.
It's actually fine with you. More than fine, really. Apparently as Chief Justice of Fontaine, Neuvillette is well liked and popular. The amount of people you'd have to invite to the wedding would be too many for you.
So you simply don't. You sign a document and in the eyes of the law, and of Neuvillette, that is enough.
Though a part of you aches that you will never have the traditional Liyuen wedding you dreamed of as a child. But you suppose that dreams of childhood should stay there.
You move into Neuvillette's home. Fontaine comes as a culture shock, almost.
The amount of times you get absolutely lost in this fish-bowl of a city manages to astound even you.
It's not your fault, really. Liyue Harbor is easy to navigate, warm and welcoming. In Fontaine, the streets all somehow manage to look the same, though the shops sell things you never even thought of. At some point, you're pretty sure you even see a woman standing outside of a building with a mechanical bird.
You end up seeing other Melusines more than your new husband. You don't really blame him for this, his job is important and needed, so each day he bids you a single "good morning" along with a look you couldn't decipher, as he heads to the Opera House.
That's a whole other thing about Fontaine that you still haven't investigated.
It's not as though you're upset that you don't see Neuvillette often. But he is one of the few people that you know here, and it doesn't take long for you to be lonely in the new city, without any of your friends.
Though you find the Meluine's to be kind. They help you when you get lost, and press small gifts into your palms as they take your hands to lead you around.
They tell you to tell Neuvillette to take some time off work. To spend some time with you. You nod and agree that you'll tell him the next time you see him.
But when the man quickly leaves in the morning and doesn't return until late, you never really get a chance to.
If you didn't know any better, you would have thought he'd been avoiding you.
It's like that for almost a month. He says good morning, disappears, and you wander the city to familiarize yourself with it. He never comes home until the sun has almost set, and night is almost there, while you wander until the rain finally starts for the day.
You asked the Melusine's about it once, commenting that there wasn't so much rain in Liyue. They tell you of the hydro dragon and the tears it cries. You hope that someday you will get to meet this dragon and see what makes them so sad.
At least, it stays like that until it doesn't, as most things tend to do.
You were lost, which wasn't too much of a surprise, but unlike the times before, there were no Melusine's to bring you back home or to a place you knew. The rain had started earlier today, earlier than anyone seemed to expect, and before you knew it, you were huddled in an alley, your clothing absolutely soaked and shivers running down your spine from the wet and the cold.
You missed Liyue. You missed your friends, your parents, you missed the smells and sounds of the harbor. Tears burned in your eyes and mixed with the rain on your cheeks.
Standing there simply isn't going to fix things though, so you eventually left your small, but dry, protection, and decided to finally figure out this city.
Your confidence fades the longer you walk around.
It takes almost two hours of wandering around in the rain until you finally recognize something. Not the path home, but to the first place you ever meet Neuvillette, despite not knowing at the time.
You push open the door. It's late, though that doesn't seem to mean the place is devoid of life. Wrapping shaking arms around yourself, you spot a sliver of light coming from Neuvillette's office.
It felt much too late to be working, but perhaps it was Sedene, fixing up things. Tentatively, you knock on the door, and the faint scratching of a pen against paper suddenly stopped.
Suddenly, this felt like a mistake. You took a single step back, but before you could change your mind and leave, the door swung open and Neuvillette stood there, a look of mild concern on his face.
Neither of you spoke. Neuvillette looks you up and down, brows furrowing, and you realize all at once that you must look like a sight, absolutely soaked and dripping water on the floor. If you weren't so cold, your cheeks would be flushed.
"Why are you here?" he asks, glancing around as though that would provide him with the answer.
Your shoulders slump. You can't really explain why. Maybe it's the disappointment  at the sight of you, or the lack of a warm welcome. Not 'what happened to you' or 'why are you soaking wet' but instead a question that felt almost like he questioning your presence in general.
"I-um," you stutter through chattering teeth, "I got lost and didn't know where to go."
That felt like an understatement of what happened, but you weren't sure how else to answer the question.
Neuvillette didn't seem to know either.
When he didn't say anything more, you shifted from foot to foot, wincing at the cold and the squish of wetness. You'd be lucky if you didn't get sick, after this.
"You got lost?" he finally asks, as though the concept was foreign to him.
You don't know what to say, so you shrug, peering around him. It seemed Sedene had already left for today, and there went your hope for an escort home.
"The streets all look the same to me," you manage, shivering again. "Uh-you can just tell me which way to go, and I'll get out of your hair. I didn't mean to be a bother."
"And why didn't you ask anyone for help? Anyone could have told you where I live."
The question almost comes out cold, for how logical it is. You huff, a small noise of frustration. All you wanted at the moment was to get out of these wet clothes and to be warm again. But it seems that isn't going to happen any time soon.
"Never mind," you murmur, suddenly so tired. Of course he wouldn't understand why you wouldn't want to ask for help. Your Fontainian was still in it's learning stage, and while you could ask a couple of questions with a thick accent, you had no idea how to ask someone to lead you home.
Plus, wouldn't it reflect badly on him, to have a wife who didn't even know how to return home? But you supposed, if it didn't matter to him, then it shouldn't matter to you.
"I'll see you at home, then," you murmur, turning on your heel to leave.
It was the last thing you wanted to do at the moment. The rain seemed to be coming down even harder, you could hear the thunderous roar of rain against the roof as you went to the main door.
A little more rain wouldn't hurt, and you were pretty sure you knew the way home from here.
You step out into the rain, but surprisingly, you don't get any wetter than before. The rain hits something above you, and you glance up to see an umbrella.
Neuvillette stands slightly behind you, umbrella extended over you. You still hadn't stopped shivering, teeth clattering together. Neuvillette almost looks pained as he looks down at you.
"You'll catch your death out here," he says, as though that explains everything.
And then, in true Fontaine fashion, he extends his arm out to you to link your own through, a true and proper escort.
You take it, if only for the stability. And maybe the warmth. And also the umbrella is hardly big enough for two, if you don't stand close, then Neuvillette would get wet as well.
That's the only reason.
He makes quick work of the walk home, and you were almost dismayed by how close you had been the entire time. By the time you walk up the steps, still shivering from  the cold, the rain had finally stopped, the sky clearing to reveal the stars.
"I shall make you something to eat while you dry off," he says, as though it is the law of the land.
You wonder if that is how he sounds in court, when he's trying the cases. You almost want to argue just for the sake of it.
But being dry and having a warm meal sounds much too good to ignore, so you only nod, and go to change your clothes. You debate on taking a bath, the call of the warm water ends up being much too tempting for you.
You emerge feeling like a new person. The water washes away the feelings of the day, and the coldness in your bones. You emerge feeling like a new person, if not a bit more tired and ready for bed than before.
Neuvillette is true to his words. Your hair drips with water as you peek into the kitchen, only to find him sitting at the table, waiting, with two bowls of soup in front of him.
"Come," he says when you don't move forward. You do as asked, sitting beside him and inhaling the rich aroma of the soup.
You had found here that the food varied greatly from what you were used to in Liyue. It certainly wasn't bad, but it was an adjustment. Even the soup was a bit creamier than you were used to, but you ate it eagerly, allowing it to chase away whatever lingering chills the bath hadn't rid you of.
"I'd like to apologize," Neuvillette starts, his own food barely touched, like it's an afterthought for him.
You tilt your head, exhaustion falling over you from the soup and warmth. "For what?"
He looks embarrassed. It's a rather cute look on the normally stoic man. Neuvillette struggles for words, almost seeming to give the words spoken to you the same value that he gives to the court.
"I was not aware that you were struggling to adjust here, I should have foreseen such an event occurring."
He almost looks upset, suddenly. You understand, at least you think you understand. It must be hard having a wife who couldn't even navigate the city of your home.
"It's okay, I'll do better in the future," you reassure, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder as you stand.
It's the first bit of contact you've had since you were married and he placed a kiss upon your cheek at your parents badgering. He looks a bit annoyed though, so you retract your hand to not make him more uncomfortable.
"That's not what I meant. I meant that I should have been here to help you adjust."
"Oh," you say, honestly confused. "it's alright. You're very important here, I don't want to be a bother when you're so busy."
Your words seem to have the opposite of your intended desire. If anything, he looks more upset, leaving you with a rather sour taste in your mouth.
You seemed to be more of an inconvenience than you had even considered.
You hoped this wouldn't turn into an argument. You were tired from wandering and walking for hours, from being caught out in the rain. You rested your head on your hand, trying to think of something to say.
Before your tired mind could think of anything, Neuvillette sighed, a long suffering thing that sounded much older than he must be.
"You should go to bed."
You don't need to be told twice. You take your dish to the sink, leaving it there to be washed by you in the morning. Neuvillette rises, though it seems more to see you off than to actually leave.
"Good night, y/n," he says quietly, still as upset as before.
"Good night, monsieur Neuvillette."
You fall asleep as soon as you're tucked underneath the covers of your bed. You wonder if it's the bed that you're meant to share with your husband, but he never joins you.
And that's fine with you.
-x-x-x-x-
He's still there, in the morning.
It's a sight that makes you freeze coming out of your bedroom, just able enough to peek down the hall and see him in the same place as last night, at the kitchen table. He holds the paper in his hands, the same one that you've seen just about everyone in Fontaine obsessed with.
Did you wake up early? A quick glance at the time told you no, that in fact you had woken up later than normal. Neuvillette was meant to be long gone by now, off to court.
As though sensing your stare, the paper falls, and startling purple eyes lock onto you.
"Ah, you're awake."
You nod, because what else are you going to do? Neuvillette folds the paper back into its  original shape.
"Let me know when you are ready to leave."
Well, you couldn't say you expected that to happen. You nod after a second, before disappearing to get yourself ready.
While you don't look your best, at least you aren't soaked and shaking. Really, the amount of time that you've spent with Neuvillette could be counted on one hand, and you did not like the thought of one of those times being when you were in such a sorry state.
A little bit later, you were back by Neuvillette, looking at him with nothing short of confusion as he prepares to leave.
Oh, the disappointment aches for a moment. Like a child being promised a treat only to have it taken away.
"Well? Come along then."
His voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You take a few, tentative steps forward, until he offers you his hand.
You take it, after a moment, brows furrowed with confusion.
"Don't you have court to attend to?" you ask, as he leads you outside.
"I have sent notice that I will be taking today off. I have recently become aware that my wife needs a tour of Fontaine, and I consider that a much more pressing item on my agenda."
Your cheeks color. You can't tell if it's at being called Neuvillette's wife, or from how he doesn't let go of your hand even when you walk outside.
Before you can ask him if he's sure, if he can really take time off, Neuvillette gestures down the street, and begins what has to be one of the most in depth tours of Fontaine to exist.
This time, getting lost in the sights and sounds is fun. Neuvillette explains every building you pass, the history behind it, and what is happening there now. He lets you pull him in random directions when something catches your eye, and answers every question that you can even think of.
It's fun. Neuvillette is well liked by the people, and suddenly that seems to mean you're well liked as well. The food vendors give you free samples, pressing them into your palm and insisting that you take it despite your protests.
Even the Melusine's stop, chatting with you more than Neuvilllette, much to his surprise. He even comments that you know their names, and seems very ashamed when you point out that you've spent more  time with them instead of him.
You feel like you can actually navigate the city, by the time the sun is setting. Your bones ache from the exhaustion that the excitement has left you with. When Neuvillette notices, he starts herding you home, despite your protests.
The last thing you want is for the day to end. Going back to how it was before seems unbearable now that you know how it could be. If Neuvillette knows of your plight, he says nothing of it.
He simply wishes you a good night, and lets you head to bed.
If it's a dream, you hope that you will remember every detail of it.
-x-x-x-x-
Things don't change after that, much to your relief.
Neuvillette stays in the morning, talking with you sometimes. Most of the time he reads, while you make coffee for yourself, and subsequently him. He likes it with two sugars, no milk.
The information feels nice to have. Especially when, on the very, very rare occasions you wake up before him, you can have a hot cup of coffee waiting for him.
The little things before you grow before anything else. Conversations in the morning. Coffee. Neuvillette bringing you home treats that you love, especially the conch madeleines.
There are other things, as well. When you mention missing a certain dish from Liyue, Neuvillette goes out of his way to procure it for you. You're not sure how he manages to do it, but if it means you can get slow cooked bamboo shoot soup whenever you like, then you're happy not to know.
He comes home earlier, as well. As soon as the case is done for the day, it feels like he's on his way to find you. You're happy to do just that, telling him of everything you managed to do during the day, or whatever else is going on in your head that you want to share.
Neuvillette always listens. And he remembers. You mention once, in an off handed comment, about how beautiful you thought the rainbow roses of Fontaine were.
The next day, you woke up to a bouquet of them at your bedside.
You do your best to return the favor, going to collect him at the Opera house when his day is finished.
When you were younger, you read stories of people falling in love instantly, with a single look and it was easy from there.
You think now, as a married woman, that the stories are wrong. Love comes in the small gestures, in the moments spent together.
-x-x-x-x-
It's pouring rain outside. A heavy downpour that has been going on for the last hour.
It's also the time Neuvillette normally comes home, but it doesn't seem that way today. The change in routine throws you off more than you'd like to admit.
You wait another half hour before you grab your cloak, a heavy thing that Neuvillette insisted on buying you so you wouldn't get soaked in the rain any longer, and head out to the Opera House.
You're not too fond of the aquabuses here. They're faster than walking, but something about them feels so awkwardly slow. But with a bit of tension in your shoulders, you bite down the complaints and make small talk with the Melusine piloting the aquabus as you arrive.
Neuvillette only took you over here once, to show you the Fountain of Lucine. You suppose, on another level, it was also to make sure that you knew where the Opera House was in case you needed him and didn't want to get lost.
You're thankful for his planning.
Everyone else has already left, except for a very dedicated couple by the fountain, praying for blessings upon their child. You wonder if someday that will be you, but dismiss the thought with a blush.
It takes you much too long to find Neuvillette. For a man who cuts such an imposing figure, you wander around in the rain looking for him for much longer than needed. Eventually though, you find him at the back of the Opera House, standing in the rain as though he doesn't notice it.
"Neuvillette?" you call, quiet, as to not startle him. It seems you do so anyways, from how he jumps. "Are you alright?"
He nods, but doesn't speak. You reach out to take a gloved hand, everything about him feels cold.
You lead him back home, and he follows you as though he has no mind for anything else. It takes too long to get home but also not enough time. You hold his hand the entire way.
"Was court today rough?" you finally ask, when you're in the security of your shared home. Neuvillette lets out a hum, not agreeing but not disagreeing either.
You usher him to the bathroom to clean himself up, and go to make something warm, when the irony of the situation hits you all at once, because it must have only been a few months ago that Neuvillette did the same thing for you.
It felt nice to have the roles  switched.
 Neuvillette doesn't seem hungry, so you usher him into your own bed, since truthfully you've been suspicious that he's been sleeping on the couch or at his desk in his office to prevent you from feeling uncomfortable.
You sit down, and urge him to lay his head in your lap. You brush your fingers through his slightly damp hair, and you hum a Liyuen lullaby your mother used to sing to you.
Neuvillette never talks about court. You asked him once and only once about it, curious since everyone in Fontaine seemed to think that the cases were some kind of show. But Neuvillette had simply said that it was very usual, and not worth discussing.
At the time, you took him at his word. Now though, you wonder if it's something more.
"I believe an innocent man was sentenced today," Neuvillette says, after a moment. His voice is so soft, you almost can't hear it under the pouring rain outside.
"Is that so?" you ask, a silent prompt. Does he want to continue? Or leave it there?
He sighs after only a second, pressing further against your hand in his hair. Like a cat seeing attention.
"I'm sure it will be resolved soon, I simply need to investigate things more."
You nod, remaining silent. Neuvillette doesn't explain more, but eventually, as his breathing evens out, the rain comes to a stop outside.
You can't bring yourself to move. It would no doubt wake up Neuvillette, and that seemed like the last thing anyone needed. So you settled amongst the pillows, and close your eyes.
If you wake up tomorrow, still close to another and sleepy limbs tangled together, you said nothing of it. Neither does Neuvillette.
After that though, your bed becomes just the bed, and you're not opposed to that at all.
-x-x-x-x-
The Fountain of Lucine ends up being one of your favorite places in Fontaine. Not for any particular reason, you tell yourself, it's simply pretty to look at.
And that's not a lie. It is pretty to look at, and it's fun to visit and listen to expecting parents wish for good things for their children. It was nice to see the sights and sounds without the hustle and bustle of the city.
The first time you end up going out though, you can't say you had the most pleasant experience.
You had gotten the idea in your head, perhaps you were too bored lately, that you should visit Neuvillette at work and bring him lunch. So you packed a small bag, and made the journey.
Only to be stopped at the entrance of the Opera House by one of the gardes.
"Court is in session, no one is allowed in, miss, without a ticket."
Your head tilts to the side, truly puzzled. A ticket? People bought tickets to court, as though it was a show?
"I'm not going to see the court, I came to drop something off for Neuvillette," you explain to the man, holding up the small box.
The man eyes it with a bit of suspicion, and part of you almost wants to ask if he really thinks you've poisoned it. Another part of you is sure that if you ask, you will absolutely get accused of that.
"That's nice, miss, but you still can't go in. I'm sure you know monsieur Neuvillette has many admirers, and we can't stop court simply because you wish to give him a gift."
Wow. You weren't even sure how to unpack that. You crossed your arms over your chest, not budging.
"I am his wife, here to bring him lunch. Do you want to explain to Neuvillette tomorrow about how you banned his wife from visiting him.?"
The man, you still haven't even gotten his name yet, isn't looking at you any more. He's looking behind you, a look of mild panic on his face.
Oh, this was going to be just like one of those soap operas back in Liyue, wasn't it? You knew without looking who was going to be there.
"Monsieur Neuvillette!" he said, giving the salute of Fontaine. "I was just telling this young woman that we do not allow visitors during court."
"That is true," Neuvillette says, you can almost hear a bit of smile in his voice. "However, I think I can make an exception for my wife. Thank you though, I will handle it from here."
The man scurries away before you can say anything. If he had a tail, it would have been between his legs.
"I think you scared him," you said, turning to your husband.
You ignore your racing heart at hearing Neuvillette call you his wife for the first time. You couldn't stop the smile from spreading on your face though.
"I think if anyone scared him between the two of us, my dear, it was you," he muses, and yes, it is amusement you can hear in his voice.
You two stand there, smiling at each other for a moment before you remember just why you made the journey out here.
"Oh, I brought you lunch." You place the small package in his hand. "I'm sure you're busy here and I wanted to make sure you were eating. I didn't know I needed a ticket to get inside. How did you know I was here?"
"Ah, Aeife told me you had arrive, and I suspected that you would encounter a problem."
He gestures to the side, and sure enough, the small Melusine is there. She gives you a wave before going back to skipping and offering help to those who need it
"She's sweet."
"She is," Neuvillette agrees. "I think most of them like you more than me."
"Who wouldn't like me?"
The smile Neuvillette gives you almost makes you blush, but you barely manage to get a hold of yourself.
"Yes, they'd be fools not to like you."
And now you were blushing. You gently swatted Neuvillette's arm, and only received a chuckle for your antics.
"Thank you," Neuvillette says, genuinely. "I must return now, but I appreciate the thought."
A tiny sliver of disappointment ran through you, but you pushed it down, nodding your head. "Of course, of course. Don't let me keep you. Off you go now."
You made a little shooing motion, the smile on your face letting him know you were simply teasing. But he didn't leave.
"Any time you wish to come and see me, there will always be a ticket waiting for you at the booth." He gestures to the sales booth, which very much looked closed, but you didn't say that. "I'll be sure to tell you the next time Lyney and Lynette do their show."
You visibly perked up, which gained you a small chuckle. You hadn't been shy about saying you wanted to see the show, though apparently it was impossible to find tickets to it.
"Thank you, I'll be sure to take you up on that."
You stood up on your tip toes, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. He seems surprised at the touch, but after a moment manages to compose himself, saying a quick goodbye before returning to work.
Aefie tugged at your skirt, a gentle motion almost as soft as a breeze. You knelt down to her level, allowing her to whisper in your ear.
"Thank you for making Neuvillette so happy."
-x-x-x-x-
You fell a lot, as a child, as all children do.
Scraped knees and bruised elbows. What is childhood without a few injuries? Without those precious moments that make them realize oh, sometimes life has pain.
The first time you heard of the concept of "falling in love" you had thought it was like that. Falling on the ground and bruising your knees.
Now though, you think it is something else. Like the feeling of falling into a warm bed at the end of a long day.
Neuvillette is already in bed tonight, laying on his side facing where you normally lay. You tip toe over to the bed, just in case he's already fallen asleep.
He hasn't though, and your eyes meet his vivid purple ones as you lay down, facing him as well.
"I thought you were asleep," you murmur. Tentatively, you reached for him, only to have him meet you halfway. Your fingers laced together with his.
"I was waiting for you."
Such a simple declaration is enough to make you blush. A year of marriage and he still managed to make you blush.
"I'm here now."
Something changes in his eyes, and he looks at you, so, so, fond. "You are here."
You both lay there, either unwilling or unable to fall asleep, feeling so close but somehow still so far away. It's one of the nights when the rain isn't falling. When you first came to Fontaine, it felt as though the rain never stopped, but now it's only occasionally.
"You never answered my question, you know."
Neuvillette frowns for a moment, thinking. You take pity on him before he can worry if he made you upset.
"I asked if you were kind," you murmur, gentle.
It felt like ages ago, talking to a stranger without knowing who they were. Neuvillette looks at you, waiting, knowing you weren't finished.
You had been so worried about everything. And though Sedene had told you, you didn't know if you could believe it or not.
"And what have you found?" Neuvillette asks. His voice is small, as though he's actually afraid of how you might answer.
You don't hesitate.
"You are," you whisper. You inch closer, knees brushing against his own. "You are so, so kind."
He kisses you. Lips sliding against your own, slotting there as though they were meant to be there. And desperately, with almost a full year of longing in you, you kiss back.
You're breathless by the time that he pulls back. He looks the same, and for the first time you see a small blush on his cheeks.
"I love you," he whispers, a reverent noise just for you.
You smile, leaning in to kiss him again.
"I love you too."
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liliacamethyst · 6 months
Text
Sneak Peak Part V - Web of Eternal Dawn
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“Drop the child, Miguel.” the figure warns.
With an unimpressed raise of his brow, Miguel retorts, “Go home, Miles.”
Gabriel, now more settled, looks up at Miguel with adoring eyes, already halfway back to sleep. But Miles’ persistent voice booms through the little room. "Miguel, step the fuck back from the baby, and let's settle this outside. NOW."
"Kid, this isn't a fight you wanna fight," Miguel warns, gently lowering the now sleeping Gabriel back into his crib.
But just as the situation seems to have reached a tense standoff, the door bursts open, revealing you, fully clad in your spider-suit, ready to fight, fury painted on every feature. Flashbacks of the past, filled with anger, pain, and fear, cloud your vision upon seeing Miguel bending over your son.
"Sunny, I can explain—" Miguel starts, but your  reaction is swift. With a well-aimed web, you pin him to the nearby wall, rendering him immobile. Miles, clearly taken aback by your rapid response, stammers, “He... uh... was trying to... take Gabriel again. I saw it?”
Miguel's eyes, though pinned, glitter dangerously. “Cut the crap, kid.”
You had heard enough, and you fired webs at his mouth, silencing him. Standing tall, you demand, “What the hell is going on?”
Your heart hammers against your ribcage, an overpowering nausea threatening to bring you to your knees. Not again, you beg internally, this can't be happening again. The biting sensation of deja vu feels like a punch to the gut. 
As if reading your panic, Miles lifts his hands in a placating gesture, but your focus narrows solely on your sleeping baby, peacefully oblivious to the tension in the room. Swiftly, you cross the distance to his crib, gently scooping him up, trying your hardest not to stir him. Every instinct screams at you to get away, to protect your child from the unpredictable scene.
You barely register Miles' words of apology or his attempt to follow, reacting instinctively by sending a web in his direction, narrowly missing him and instead encasing Miguel against the wall. With him momentarily restrained, you leave the room.
Miguel, however, almost effortlessly shrugs off the sticky restraints, ripping the webbing from his face. He's pissed, furious even, seething at the situation. Anger boils at the goddamn circumstances, but above all, his ire is directed at this noisy kid. Damn, Miles, can't he just go bother someone else? This isn't his fucking business. It's his mess to fix, his responsibility, and he needs to make things right. Why does Miles have to complicate things even more?
With a tension thick enough to cut, Miguel turns to Miles, "What do you want, kid?"
Miles, glares defiantly, his voice dripping with loathing. "You, gone. Either in some forsaken universe or dead."
Miguel sighs, running a hand down his face, his weariness evident. "Fine, do whatever you wish. Kill me, banish me, torture me. Whatever your little heart desires. Let me first make sure that they are safe. I won't fight you, Miles.”
Miles pauses, disbelief flashing across his face. "You serious?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?" Miguel retorts, his gaze piercing.
Miles takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "You're a monster, Miguel. Maybe not a murderer, but still a monster."
"I know what I am." Miguel admits, his voice breaking ever so slightly and without looking back leaving Miles speechless.
Miguel hesitated at the window, on the precipice of leaving. But something - be it fate, spider-sense, or sheer reckless longing - pulled him back. He silently treaded through the apartment, drawn to a soft melodic voice.
There, in the dim room, you stood. Without your mask, vulnerability framed your features, eyes closed, a cascade of hair down your shoulder.
 You swayed gently, singing a lullaby, with little Gabriel secure in your embrace, his breathing even and deep. This sight, so full of love and tenderness, tore through Miguel. It was a clear representation of everything he yearned for, of the life that slipped through his fingers, so vivid he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.
His heart ached, thinking of the life they could've shared, of waking up to this exact scene every day, of being a part of this little family. The regret was suffocating him in its weight.
You sensed him before you heard him, before you smelled his perfume, warm and woody with a hint of something spicy. He smelled like the shower gel he uses when you both took long showers, the walks you used to take in the woods on Earth 99, discussing plans for the HQ, but you just enjoyed holding his hand. He also smelled like your pillows after he disappeared in the morning, a scent tinged with abandonment. He smelled like a thousand things you couldn’t place, but foremost, he smelled like one thing, and you just hated that thought. Home. 
You finally broke the silence, your voice soft and wearied. "What are you doing here, Miguel?"
He swallowed, voice raw. "I needed to see if you were okay."
A sad smile played on your lips. "You're too late for that."
Ahhhh, you guys are amazing! Please share your thoughts, and don't hesitate to suggest how you'd like the story to end – I might just include it! Let's turn this into a group project. I was close to giving up on the story, feeling not good enough. I love writing and creating, but anxiety often gets the best of me. Your kind messages, (which yes, I read and cherish every single one) have helped immensely. I'm so grateful and want to return all the positivity back to you. Wish I could hug each of you! ☀️
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messylustt · 10 months
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Hi! Can I request Miguel O’Hara x civilian reader. Where reader is Miguel’s dead wife and Gabriella’s mom and Miguel travels to another universe on a Mission and she mistakes him for her Miguel. And he’s just so out of it because he misses her sm.
my heart my HEART
COPIED DESIRE — miguel o’hara + reader: you aren’t miguel’s dead wife but he can’t let you go.
marks yandere behavior; non purposeful cheating?? (like just a kiss). wc 1.0k.
pt one. pt two.
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“i’ve got it.” miguel says, bypassing jess to slip through the window. they were chasing down an anomaly, undercover in simple clothes of this universe, and as jess left to scout the other buildings, miguel found his way inside a rather nicely furnished apartment.
he tried to stay quiet, knowing that there could only be civilians here and the anomaly could be elsewhere. but as he walked down the hall, his foot stopped on something partially imbedded in the carpet. looking down he found a small lego piece and then he heard a voice.
“yeah…no, i’m not sure…mhm.” it sounded as though someone was talking on the phone, and as miguel trained into listening he froze, hearing the tone and softness he never thought he’d hear again.
you chuckle, walking out into the hallway, and when you see miguel you jump, placing your hand over your heart. you had just ended the call. “christ, miguel…i thought…i thought you weren’t coming home until later?”
miguel can only stare. you’re supposed to be dead. you…are dead. his gaze gets caught up in your details, his eyes impossibly softening as he takes note of you and your entirety. you looked beautiful.
and then you’re walking closer and before miguel can react you lean up and place a gentle kiss to his cheek, your hand coming out to place atop his bicep.
he meets your gaze and you smile. and miguel’s mind falters. “come on, i made some lunch for me…but i guess you can have some too.” you teasingly chuckle, beginning to walk away when miguel—without his minds permission—reaches out for, pulling you back as he can’t help but press his lips against yours.
is this a dream? miguel thinks it must be. because you shouldn’t be in his arms right now. but he can’t help but move his head against yours. you, of course, kiss back, thinking it’s your miguel. the one from this universe. with the ‘undercover’ clothes he looks the same.
you slightly break away from miguel, your smile still present. “rough day?” you ask with a tilt to your head. his hand comes out to touch your face, dragging down to your lips, as he just nods. that’s all he can do.
because this is wrong. you aren’t his. his version of you is dead. but oh you look so alike, so…similar. even with the way you’re head is tilting in a smile. it’s all too much for miguel.
“real rough.” he mutters before his hand is slipping to the back of your neck and pulling you back in. you tasted sweet, just as sweet as he remembered. and now he can’t back away, because you’re kissing him back, your hand is shifting to slip around his arm.
“the food’ll get cold.” you whisper against his lips. and miguel is still breathing hard, practically dazed. but then he hears the turn off keys, and remembers you aren’t his. miguel knows that it’s this universes version of him. you’re that miguel’s wife.
but miguel’s chest is beginning to heave at the thought of you leaving him again. he didn’t want you to leave. no. his grip slipped to your chin, pulling your head back to him as you had glanced to the door, confused.
no one else had a key besides miguel. your miguel. you had heard him mention details from his work, him working at alchimax as a scientist. you had heard of the new project and it’s risks. briefly of course, majority of it confidential.
but you caught things such as ‘other universes’, and ‘carbon copies’. and then it clicked, as you meet the gaze of the miguel who is holding you still. miguel can see the clogs turning in your brain. and he has the urge to shake his head. this becoming over far too soon.
he means you no harm, even if his grip on your chin is tightening, as he watches you realise. your mouth falls open, as you go to step back. “you’re not….”
but miguel can’t seem to let you go, bringing you back to him as he shakes his head. “no, please don’t…”
“no, get off me.” you struggle to get away. now you know. this isn’t your miguel.
“hey, hey.” miguel grabs your face, continuously shaking his head. he felt like something was getting ripped away. his heart, maybe? “it’s me.”
you shake your head. “no you’re…not miguel. not my miguel.”
“but…you’re…” he can’t get the words out because your gaze isn’t soft anymore, you aren’t looking at him with love. and you’re slightly confused as to why miguel still has an expression expressing that he does feel that—love.
you shake your head, grabbing his hands on your face, in preparation to remove them. “i’m not your version of me. you know that right?” because you had guessed that there was also a carbon copy of you back in his universe, and maybe he got confused.
but miguel is still shaking his head, bringing you closer to him. the front door has now been opened and closed as the voice of your universe’s miguel reaches both yours and miguel’s ears. “mi amor, sorry i’m home a bit earlier than planned.”
now, all miguel can see is red. he knew you weren’t his version of you, but upon hearing this other version of him calling you ‘mi amor’, part of him wanted to change that. you could love him, right? you love that version of him, loving another won’t be too difficult.
but no matter what made up reason miguel can say to himself, even he knows how fucked up this is. He shouldn’t even be thinking about it. to instead leave you be to live your own life. he wasn’t meant to meet you.
but as your miguel’s steps draw near, and as you go to call for him, miguel places a cloth over your mouth. this makes your eyes widen as you shake your head, your eyelids beginning to droop. the cloth was meant for emergencies. i’m sure this can count as one. “shh…” miguel whispers, his lips brushing your forehead, as you drop in his arms. “no…” you quietly mutter out.
“it’s okay…you’re okay…you’re okay.” miguel mutters. “you’re with me now…you’re gonna be fine…you are fine…god you’re okay…” miguel had continued muttering anything as his lips brushed your skin your eyes now closed. “you’re all…mine again…”
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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gentaro-kinniecom · 3 months
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New Beginnings
Characters: Zayne/fem!reader
C/w: 1.4k! (Read at your own risk, meant for +18) mentions of breeding, married life, somewhat graphic descriptions of sex. Zayne wants to be a father although he doesn't admit it..he just wants to get you knocked up.
A/n: Finished writing this instead of my english essay because... There's also a Rafayel fanfic in the making so stay tuned for more <33
“Zayne? It’s 1am, you still haven’t come back to bed..” I said, leaning against the door frame as he sighed, typing away on his computer while passing a hand across his hair, trying to calm himself down. 
“I know. I’m sorry, I’ll be there”
“That’s what you said an hour ago..you’re tiring and exhausting yourself to the point of death at this point” Zayne sighed, closing his laptop and getting up from his desk chair, walking towards me with a soft grin trying to comfort me. 
“Are you satisfied now?” He asked, hugging my waist as we walked towards our shared bedroom. Ever since we got married, Zayne has gotten more work than usual piled up on his desk every time I go to visit him at work. It worries me that he’s overworking himself because of money, which hasn’t been an issue at all given he’s a doctor and works in a very respected hospital. But what other reason might it be? I laid in our shared bed, feeling myself drift away to sleep when suddenly, Zayne wrapped his arms around my waist. 
“Mhm, thank you” I replied, snuggling up to him while caressing his soft dark strands of hair that fell on his face, smiling. He muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t quite grasp as Zayne kissed me goodnight. I couldn’t help but stay awake for a few minutes, looking at the city lights by the window and back at Zayne’s sleeping form beside me.
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Woken up by the sound of something crashing from the kitchen, I got out of bed with a small yawn, walking down the corridor of our lovely home to see Zayne had a mess of pancake batter all over his “kiss the cook” apron while sighing in annoyance before turning towards me.
“There’s shards of glass on the floor..please, be careful” I nod, grabbing a broom from the closet room and coming back to see Zayne was picking up the broken pieces from the floor. I suddenly stepped in one while trying to hand him the broom which made him look at me with worry, I try not to cry as he can clearly see the tears pricking my eyes.
“I’m fine I swear..” Without a second thought, he quickly lifted me onto the kitchen counter, carefully yet skillfully removing the glass from my foot as Zayne chuckled.
“Having you like this, reminds me of our honeymoon. Remember when-” I stopped Zayne by placing a hand over his mouth, trying to not remember that day where he fucked me into oblivion in our hotel’s kitchen island, right before breakfeast too.
“Why must you always make me remember? It’s like you’re hinting at wanting kitchen sex right now..” A chuckle left his lips as Zayne’s body inched closer, his hands grabbing my waist gently, kissing my neck while whispering sweet words that had me falling into his desire.
“Because, shouldn’t being a husband imply taking care of his wife’s desires as their own? Is it too bad that I want to be greedy with you for a few moments?”His hands began to trail under my nightgown and towards my chest as he began to rub my nipples, making me whine while kissing him.
“Alright, fine. Just seeing you in this apron alone made me feel things, did you do it on purpose?” I asked half jokingly as Zayne kissed my shoulder before taking off my nightgown, leaving me naked on the counter while grinning ear to ear.
“Perhaps, although now I see what you’ve been meaning to hide all this time; you’re trying to rile me up, and it’s working” He then kissed me, taking his sweet time to stroke my clit, agonizingly slow, teasing me as I whined into his mouth. Zayne didn’t take this lightly and spread my legs apart in a second. 
“And to think this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t break the glass measuring vase today” I added, gazing over at Zayne who kneeled towards my pussy, blowing on it gently before sucking on it. I gasped as his tongue did wonders, had I really forgotten of that day, or was I too fucked out of my brains to remember? Possibly the latter. He suddenly grabbed my thighs, massaging them in a way that made my cunt drip with more arousal than before. Of course, I was impatient, so I grabbed Zayne’s hair, pulling him upwards as he got the message.
“Maybe it was fate or clumsiness on my behalf, at least we’re making something out of this.” He spoke, yet I was too focused on how quickly he was to take off his pants, making me wonder why the hell was he wearing work pants so early in the morning. Nonetheless, all my thoughts vanished out the window as soon as I saw his cock. It wasn’t less than average or more, slightly curved and girthy, the type that never wants to let go once he’s had a taste..that..is the man I married, and the man he will always be. The small but noticeable vein on the side made me drool as he stroked himself a few times before prodding at my entrance. 
“Please, don’t make me wait longer, my love” 
“I thought, you weren’t the type to beg for something, it seems there’s a first for everything after all” Pushing my hips to meet his cock, Zayne grabbed them harshly, not enough to leave a bruise but enough to put me in my place as he smiled. The moment he thrusted inside, I threw my head back at the overwhelming pleasure Zayne was giving me at the moment. My hand found Zayne’s shoulder as he continued to pound at my dripping pussy. He let out a sharp groan as he finally reached my g-spot, making me let out a breathy moan while speeding up.
“Is this what you- hah wanted all along? For me to breed you? Make you carry our child? Answer me.” Zayne’s voice dropped to that soft and warm yet firm tone I always loved. Without any doubt, I answered almost eagerly.
“Y-yes..! Oh fuck~!” I sobbed due to the stimulation he gave me, in a hazy rush, Zayne grabbed my thighs, thrusting sharply yet deeply, enough to make me crave more.
“You’d be such a good mom, look at you, all needy and willing for me. I can’t wait to expand our family with you” He said, panting afterwards as he unexpectedly came inside rather quickly than normal. Pulling his cock away from my puffy cunt almost regretting his decision not long before seeing his cum leak down with a faint smile on his face.
“Stay here, I’ll go grab a towel.'' I nod, smiling at his gentleness as he comes back to clean me up. Zayne’s lips met mine as a ‘thank you’ from my behalf for being so kind and sweet as always. We eventually got dressed once again as I looked at my husband through the mirror of our bedroom, walking downstairs as I stared at the kitchen momentarily.
“So..what are we going to do about breakfast?” I asked, causing him to laugh while he grabbed both the house and car keys as we exited the front door.
“I know of a brunch place that just opened up nearby, perhaps we could give it a try today”
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Some weeks later, I started feeling sick and began vomiting sometimes during the morning. I had a feeling it was because I was pregnant, however, my husband wanted to run some tests for me in the clinic near the hospital he worked at, “just to be sure” his words not mine. At the end of the day, I returned home waiting for the results to come back as I heard the front door open. Zayne tried little to hide the smile on his face as he handed me the envelope from the clinic
“I don’t need to read the letter at this point with the way you’re smiling at me” I teased, opening it up to show that I was indeed 3 weeks pregnant with his child. Zayne hugged me briefly before kissing my lips ever so softly.
“I promise to be the best father for our child, thank you for allowing me to have the blessing to start a family the day we got married, I love you.” He spoke, tear-eyed as I hugged him back, crying happily onto his chest.
“I love you too..I’ll never regret marrying the man that treats me like a queen and makes sure I have everything I need.” 
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mahgyu · 2 months
Text
· JEALOUSY ·
— It's not that Toji is possessive, he just doesn't like it when others desire his girl. After all, you're completely his, aren't you?
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CONTAINS: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!reader, smut/NSFW 18+, very jealousy (from Toji), pet names (good girl, sweetie, kitten among others) that's it I think.
WC: 1.4k.
A/N: I wrote this without planning so I apologize if there are many errors
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"Repeat, repeat who is the only one who makes you feel so good like this."
"You, Toji, a-are you. Only you!" You exclaim, too immersed in your own pleasure to care about the sarcastic laugh that Toji lets out weakly close to your ear.
"Good girl. And whose cock fucks your pussy so good, huh? Who is the only one who can have you like this?" Toji insists. Seeing her so surrendered to him was like winning a one-way ticket to paradise.
The car windows covered by a thin mist caused by their erratic breaths, the constant rocking of the car that, seen from outside by anyone passing by in the parking lot at that moment, would easily distinguish what was happening inside the vehicle. Her legs were already numb, her hips were gradually aching and you were already a complete mess. Toji was going deep and hard, teeth semi-clenched and a hazy look that he only conveyed in specific situations, and this time, jealousy was the main factor.
Enjoying Saturday night drinking a bit alongside his girl was all Toji needed to shake off the stress of the mundane week. The large, calloused hand rested on your thigh as he grinned amusedly at the grimace you made while attempting, for the second time that night, to down a shot of vodka to try to keep up with him. "Do you want me to ask if they serve orange juice?" Toji asked sarcastically. "Maybe I'd prefer of strawberry instead" You accept the joke, pushing the small glass away across the table, still trying to overcome the bitter taste in your mouth. Toji finishes his own shot and, after kissing briefly your lips, heads to the bar to get you a beer. Taking no more than quick minutes, Toji returns to the table, handing you your beer. Just before sitting back down beside you, Toji casts a lingering glance at a certain group of men who haven't taken their eyes off you from the distant tables, One of them in more specific. And just before you can question him about the scowl on his face, the waiter interrupts, placing a cocktail glass in front of you.
"Sorry, but we didn't order this" you inform, alternating your gaze between Toji and the waiter. "That gentleman requested that this drink be delivered to you, and he also asked me to give you this" the waiter attempts to hand you a folded piece of paper which is instantly snatched away by Toji's hands. Toji grins mischievously as he unfolds the paper, turning his neck to glance once more at the man in question. The waiter excuses himself and before you can question anything again, Toji grabs the cocktail glass and drinks all its contents in a single gulp. He grabs your hand, dragging you out of the bar right after throwing some bills on the table where they were sitting.
"Toji... you're hurting me" you alert him as he unconsciously tightens his grip on your wrist until you reach the parking lot. "Get in." he orders, his voice low but still deep, as he opens the door to access the back seats of the car. You enter without questioning, and soon he joins you.
What leads them to the moment in question, Toji hates getting stressed out over something as silly as jealousy, but it's not like he can control such feelings. God, it took all the fucking self-control he had left in him not to go smash that idiot's face right there. So, to avoid a fuss (solely because you don't like it when he gets into fights), Toji decided to take his anger out on something else, much better and more pleasurable for both of you, after all.
"You still haven't answered me, sweetie" Toji said, landing a sharp slap on your thigh to bring you back to reality. Your body was practically crushed, buried against the car seat, your legs folded towards your breasts. Your intimacy becoming more accessible and exposed to Toji in this position. Your hands were trying unsuccessfully to control Toji's relentless hips, and at the same time, struggling to find stability against the cushioned seat.
"Toji... f-fuck, too much..." You whimper, feeling your insides churning again and wishing that Toji, at least this time, wouldn't deny your orgasm like he has been for the past few hours. "Love, p-please, pleasee." You plead, tears welling up and clouding your vision.
"Fuck, you look so adorable while you beg. Ah... should I be mean to you more often?" He taunts as he buries his face in the curve of your neck and bites the skin enough to leave a mark. Your tightening grip around Toji's cock alerts him to your nearing limit. "So hot... How am I not supposed to lose control when I know all the filthy men who look at you desire you like this?" He growls, holding your face firmly with one hand to make you look at him as he brings the other hand to the space between your bodies and starts rubbing his thumb on your clit.
Your moans were uncontrollable; you couldn't take it anymore. You gesture with difficulty that you're close to reaching your orgasm, your voice choked and your moans filled with pleasure affect Toji who finally allows you to release yourself. "Cum for me, kitten. Cum for the only man who can have you like this, for the only man who can feel that beautiful pussy of yours throbbing around my dick". Toji's words hit you like a spell. Your whole body succumbs to pleasure, drool dribbling from the corner of your mouth along with a few tears that blur your makeup even more. Toji doesn't stop his own movements, only slowing down the pace to savor the scene that no one else in the world besides him will ever be able to witness. Your faltering voice calling out his name repeatedly during the peak of your orgasm was Toji's ecstasy.
With muffled grunts and a few rough thrusts that felt even rougher due to your sensitivity, Toji also reaches his limit, cumming inside you, pouring all the sticky liquid into your depths, covering your soft walls with white. Emptying every last drop inside you.
Toji's body falters, he carefully settles his torso between your legs. You stroke Toji's dark locks the way he likes while he buries his face in your still-covered breasts. The breathing of both softening in contrast to how they were minutes ago.
Toji reaches for your panties which were hanging from one of your ankles, and carefully puts them on. Your tearful murmur after planting a brief kiss above your now-covered intimacy makes him smile behind the scar on his lip. Before he even dresses himself, Toji pulls out a piece of paper from his pants pocket and grabs his own phone. You look at him with curiosity the whole time, hoping he'll give you some explanation about what he's doing. Toji spreads your still weakened legs a little wider, ignoring your whimpers from the sensitivity. Without further ado, he rests his own cock, which is already starting to harden again, above your clothed intimacy. The fabric of your panties starting to become transparent due to the liquid dripping from your pussy, the thick and prominently veined shaft with the roughly reddened tip from Toji's dick was already starting to make you salivate with the desire to put it in your mouth. You again are taken from your thoughts when the interior of the car lights up with the flash of the cellphone soon accompanied by a "click".
"So...?" You decide to ask, peering over your lashes, trying not to laugh at the concentrated expression he wears while typing something on his phone after taking the picture.
"Nothing much, just ensuring our 'new friend ' knows you're not interested, in case it wasn't clear at the bar." Toji responds with a smirk as he shows you the paper the waiter had handed over hours ago, Which now, taking a closer look, you notice had a number scribbled on it, possibly that man's number.
"Now let's head back home. Just seeing your pussy getting your panties all wet makes me want to bury my cock in you one more time," Toji leans in close to you again as he speaks near your lips. You smile mischievously at him as you whisper back: "I don't see any reason to wait until we get home, we're already here anyway..." Toji chuckles at your tease and looks away; "You know I would never deny you something like that, kitten, but this damn car is too small for me, my back is screwed". He complains with a funny grimace while you laugh at his complaint and caress him. "My poor jealous old man " you say, trying to stifle your laughter. "Old man, huh? Let's see if that's what you'll be screaming while I punish your naughty pussy" Toji responds with a smug look and a animalistic smile as he hurriedly removes your panties.
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Thanks for reading.
ㅤㅤㅤ
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Note
MORE CARMY PLEASE!
Can I please please request Carmy and reader having the HIGHEST sexual tension?? But no smut! I like to edge myself and the audience 😈
well you're a dirty little devil aren't you 😂 how can i say no to this request lol enjoy!
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summary: you're a tailor, and carmy urgently needs a suit for tonight's event. just so happens that he needs a date, too.
pairing: carmen berzatto x female reader
genre: fluff
warnings: sexual tension, sexual themes.
Masterlist
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"what do you mean you're going to the event in that? you're covered in grease and sauce for goodness' sake." richie points out.
carmen shrugs, "it's just a small event, it's fine."
"small event??" richie scoffs, "cousin, they're going to announce the chef of the year, and you're nominated for it. at least look the part, will you?"
carmen waves him off, not really paying attention to what he's saying.
right on cue, you enter through the bear's back doors with a neatly pressed suit richie requested yesterday. carmen frowns, checking who just barges in like that, and ducks almost immediately when he sees it's you.
"amazing work, as usual." richie compliments. "aaaaalso, could you possibly get me one more suit? for tonight? please?"
you sigh. "really? another last minute request?"
"come on, it's for my cousin, carmen. you know him, right?"
at the mention of carmen's name, your ears perk up and your eyes widen in interest. "u-um, yeah. i've.. met him a few times."
richie has to physically drag carmen away from his station -- where he was wiping an already clean spot to look busy, and basically presents him to you.
"hi." you awkwardly lift a hand and immediately drop it.
"hi." he says back in a thin smile.
great, he thinks you're weird now. you curse yourself.
"alright cousin, just go with her and get a suit. it won't take long, so just go." richie pushes both you and carmen outside of the restaurant, and you're both awkwardly standing there.
"go!!!" richie has to shout from the window before you two finally march on to your shop.
the walk there is obviously silent, and while you try your best to come up with a good conversation starter, carmen notices you taking glances at him and tries his best not to smile.
he's had a crush on you for a while now. well, less of a crush and more of a burning desire. you'd come to eat at the restaurant sometimes and carmen would purposely approach you to give you a menu, go back to the kitchen to make your order, and serve it to you. he doesn't care how inefficient it is.
you, on the other hand, have made it a habit to come to the restaurant a few times a week. just to get a sneak peek at carmen and get some extra time with him. it sounds stalker-y, but something about carmen just shuts you up and you don't know what to say to him. all you can ever muster up is your usual order, a please, and a thank you.
at this point, carmen's memorized your order and always has it warm and ready for every time you walk in the bear. he still takes your order just in case you might get something different, and also to hear you say please. it does something to him.
"so, um," you start, "do you have any type of suit in mind?"
carmen snaps out of his trance, looking at the rows of suits around him. "not really, i'm.. not really good at this stuff."
you nod and pull out a few suits you think will fit him. "well, this one is always a classic, or we can go for something that looks a little classy. this one's navy blue, i'd say this is more of a casual-classy look, it's not plain like the black suit but also not too out there-" you realize you're rambling and clear your throat. "um, yeah. so... preferences?"
carmen smiles a little when he can see your face flush -- and his smile makes it worse, actually. he bites his lip and points to the navy suit, "let's try this one."
"o-okay," you hang the suit in the changing room with a white button up shirt. "you can try it on in here."
while carmen is getting changed, you can see a little opening from the curtains not being closed properly. and you're guilty of peeking through that opening and not looking away... until carmen catches your stare with a smirk.
of course he left that opening on purpose.
once carmen says he's done, you go into the changing room and he scoots over to make room for you and so you can see the suit on him. he looks amazing.
"i think i might need to alter the pants and sleeves." you say, "i'll measure and shorten it."
you take your tape measurer and carmen holds his hand out. right in front of his hand, is the perfect view of your cleavage, and he feels his pants getting slightly tighter. if he keeps this up you might not need to tailor his pants after all.
you make some marks with your pins before moving on to his pants. it's like clockwork - you measure the cuffs, then the inseam. you realize what you're about to do, and your heart rate picks up.
you're on your knees in front of him, dragging the tape measure from his ankle all the way up to you know where.
carmen sees your breath get heavier and somehow comes up with the courage to cup your chin, making you look up at him. oh how good you look on your knees with those eyes.
"stand up." he whispers.
you follow his command, not breaking eye contact, and he walks closer to you until you're barely an inch apart. walking backwards until your back hits the wall, carmy puts his hand behind your head so you don't get hurt, and slowly moves closer.
you're not sure where to put your hands. right now they're on the lapels of his suit, feeling his heartbeat that's going faster, and he's so warm. why is he so warm?
his grip on you is firm, and all he can think about is how badly he wants to kiss you, to take you right here.
"c-carm, i-"
the bell attached to your shop door rings, signaling a customer, and both of you stare at each other. your right side is free, you're free to go greet that customer, but your legs don't want you to move.
"hello? is anyone here?" they ask.
carmen caresses your cheek with his thumb, while his other one has moved from the back of your head to your waist, drawing circles and squeezing every now and then. it makes your knees feel wobbly.
the customer leaves, and none of you break eye contact.
"what are you doing tonight?"
"h-huh?" you're surprised by the question. "nothing, just... some work."
he leans in and kisses you just below your ear. "good. you're coming with me."
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running-with-kn1ves · 3 months
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Hii ! I wanted to ask if you could do more yandere gangster.
A/N: here's a ramble that is similar to so many other fics/imagines but its ALL I CAN THINK OF RN...
CW: kidnapping, yandere themes, murder, illicit substances mentioned, weaponry, some suggestive thots, general dark content shtuff.
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Gangster! Yan who’s the right hand man to one of your city’s oldest gangs, the bosses family operating it since the prohibition era. Their main source of income back then was smuggling alcohol to different speakeasies and clubs, now mostly dabbling in the occasional shipment of opioids or small arms that they can get their hands on. Your gangster! Yan doesn’t handle that side of business, though. He’s been tasked to oversee deals, and the protection of the boss and whatever sweet treat he has on his arm for the evening.
When a ‘project’ goes haywire, he’s there to settle things. When someone needs to be taken care of, he oversees it while his boys do what they need to. And when there’s a witness to a particularly unsavory part of business, he personally sees to shutting them up. 
That’s why he didn’t have a choice but to watch you, to learn your morning routine and stare intensely when you perused the grocery isles indecisively. The boss put him up to it, to dispose of every flaw in their seamless operations; countless times he entered your backdoor, breaking the lock you had just replaced due to his previous endeavor, watching you curl up in warm white sheets and smush your face against your pillow. Standing outside wasn’t an option anymore, his shadow from the window disturbed you, and it blocked the trickle of moonlight on your dewey skin. 
Even with the small pistol in his hidden coat pocket, the crowbar he ued to pry the door open, the compulsion to rid you of what you had seen to appease his leader could not overtake the complete desire to rub his face into your chest, to have your thighs wrapped around his head like a sea of warmth, needing that earthy scent of your skin that somehow calmed his screaming heart to completely surround him. 
What drew him to you was how alone you had been-- at home, at the scene of the crime, when you were out and about. Who would miss you? Who was there to take care of you? What would be the purpose to killing you? You hadn’t even gone to the police yet, despite the millions of questionable asks you submitted to reddit and looked up online for what to do after seeing a man’s murder. 
The roughly edged gangster found it endearingly cute, so foreign to the life he had led. You had no way of stopping him if he completed what he was supposed to, no one to turn to if you suddenly found yourselves at the hands of a shady group of men who used you as a drug mule. 
Gangster! Yan knew the kind of underlings his boss employed, easy men on probation or past druggies who wouldn’t think for a minute to stop from gobbling you up on the side of the street if you just so happened to walk down the wrong alley. Seeing as you had stupidly yet to make a distinct change your route after witnessing his gangs work, it could happen any day now. 
He couldn’t let you fall prey to the men he didn’t have a leash on, nor let you continue to live in such suffocating solitude with that neutral look on your face forever. Even if it was only filled with fear from now on, from him-- he’d give you a better life than what you lived.
It was too easy to take you, too easy to drag you to his car, too easy to put you in the decent condo he had been paying for the past decade and barely came home to. Now, he had just realized, he’d have a real reason to come back home. He couldn’t just sleep the night away in shitty bars just to wake up to the next day of work. He had to take care of you, feed you, make sure you bathed. 
Gangster! Yan was almost as surprised when he gave you the cold shoulder, heartlessly teasing you for your stupidity in walking down a known drug-trade neighborhood, for not having realized that he had stalked  you every. single. Day. as you were blind to his heavy, broad shadow of scars and grimaces.
You were so quietly willing to appease him, to scoot to his lap when he demanded it with a threatening hand over his pocket, pretending as if the empty space was a weapon. “Please don’t kill me” you asked neverendingly, every meek breath expecting a slap or a shove off. But the criminal held onto you tighter, hating the reminder that you weren’t a willing pet. 
Even when your eyes faded back with ecstasy, your arms thrown around his shoulders with a grip that only a lover could offer, he saw the flinch you gave when he bent down to kiss you. 
Even with his harsh spats that he throws at you for your mistakes, his belittlement, you are his comfort doll when he’s deal with hardships for the day. When the horrible things he’s done starts to get to him and the alcohol doesn’t drown it out,  or when one of his drop-offs go to shit, you’re the one he bee-lines for for to rant to, to make you stroke him and nod at how hard he’s worked. But his possessiveness is soul-crushing. His grip is painful when he holds you at night, his kisses rough against your mouth with his chain-smoker breath and chapped lips that haven’t been touched in ages.
But with you, he’s learned to take better care of himself. He already has you, wants you in every way, but he needs you to want him, to need him. So, coming home to shower, geling his hair back like he did as a young rookie, shaving his 5 o’clock shadow, he’s made himself into the perfect, respectable man-- or wannabe bad boy. But no amount of grooming could change your perception of the blood stained gangster that kept you in a cage before you were trustworthy enough to be chained to the bed. 
“I’ve killed for you, who else could say that?” 
“Been thinkin’ bout you all day, waiting here for me. Came home as fast as I could so you wouldn’t be lonely. A nobody like you can’t be left to your own devices for too long.”
“Won’t let no other fucker get a hold of you, you’re mine-- through and through. I’ll kill us both before something seperates us.
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