#Get Your Ex Back Law Of Attraction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pandora-writes-one-piece · 6 months ago

Text

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 2

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 2

Word Count: 4816

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: Here's chapter 2! We're still setting up the stage to more exciting events coming up! It's time for Shanks' surgery now.

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555

Masterlist

“What do you know about Dr. Law?” Sipping your coffee you stare at Nami, trying to hide the curiosity gnawing at your brain. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about the handsome dark-haired doctor since the appointment two days ago. When you slipped him your number, you unconsciously hoped he would send you a text or give you a call, but then again, why would he? You gave him your number for professional reasons and, despite all the fun teasing when you were with him, you know he’s very professional at his job.

Also, you knew Kaya would be able to answer any and all lingering questions you might have about him, but Kaya was too invested in trying to set you up and, as attracted as you felt to him, you didn’t really want to act on it.

It was just curiosity.

Right?

“Dr. Law? From the clinic?” Nami placed a finger on her chin as her eyes wandered to the ceiling. “Well, he’s a very good doctor but he’s not very sociable. I think Luffy knows him and they get along well. But he doesn’t party very much. He drinks a lot of coffee - I think Sanji can vouch for that - but he doesn’t hang around coffee shops. He keeps to himself, mostly.” She sighed. “Maybe you should ask Kaya? She sees him on a daily basis! Oh, Robin might answer some questions for you too, they worked together on some paper for a science magazine a while ago.”

Damn it. Not one drop of interesting information. Only that he wasn’t a social butterfly. Shrugging, you nodded and were about to change the subject when Nami’s brow rose. “Why?”

You tried to hide your blush behind the coffee mug. “Oh, no big deal! He’s my dad’s doctor and he’s going to be the one performing his back surgery, should he agree to it. I just wondered how good of a doctor he really was. He seemed professional but you never know!” She was still watching you closely. You were rambling, so you shut up with another sip of coffee.

“Riiiight.” Her smirk grew. “I’ll pretend to believe you. But I want all the information when things progress between you two!”

-*-

Another two days go by without any exciting news and, somehow, you manage to push Law to the back of your mind, what with the constant scolding of your father’s terrible seating habits, all the helping around the property, and a part-time job Nami had recommended to you at her firm. It was basically sorting files and organising old data and, despite Nami’s assurance that it was mind-numbing, boring work, you secretly loved it.

Because, as Law perfectly diagnosed, you are a bit of a control freak.

Now that you are back to thinking about him, you remember him telling you that he had a few tips for you to let go and relax. Was he talking about everyday tips or… intimacy tips? Because his tone of voice had suggested something else.

You are wound up so tight that the thought of relaxing in someone’s care is-... exhilarating.

Fortunately the buzz of your phone wakes you from your reverie and, patting the cow in front of you on the hind, you walk away from the barn while picking up the call.

“Hello?”

The deep voice calling your name on the other side brings shivers down your spine. It’s Law. “Is this a good time to speak?”

“Yes!” You shake your head and inhale deeply. “Sorry, I was doing some chores for my dad. It’s fine, I’m fine. I mean… yes, you can speak.” Fuck. Once again you wonder what is it about his voice that makes you weak in the knees and dumb in the head?

The vibrato of his chuckle doesn’t have the same effect on you over the phone, but it’s still very endearing. “I’m calling because I’ve managed to check your notebook and I would like to arrange a house call so we can surprise your father.”

Ah, the ambush! You are ready for that. Shanks isn’t.

“I think he will be working around the property all day this week. I won’t be available in the mornings, though. If you can manage a visit in the afternoon, it would work best.”

He hums on the other side and you sit down on a hay bale. Can there be a way to avoid being affected by a tone of voice? Would online research help? “I can make it tomorrow, if that works?”

“Yes! I’m open for you.” You almost bite your tongue as your hand slaps your head. “My schedule is open for you! My schedule!” You bet that if you could see his face, the man would be smirking.

There’s definitely amusement in the tone of his voice. “Tomorrow it is, then.”

You say your goodbyes and put the phone away as you groan in frustration. How dumb can you be, really?

-*-

When you get home from your part-time job, your organisational needs fulfilled for the day, your father tells you that Ace had come by to help and all the chores were taken care of, so he’s heading out to Beckman’s for beers and to watch the football game.

“No! No, no!” You quickly grab your phone and text the number from which Law called, hoping it’s his personal, or at least professional phone and that he’s carrying it with him now. You quickly say your dad is about to leave and he needs to come ASAP.

Then you turn to Shanks with a pained smile. “Dad, the car is giving me trouble again and I need your help. Teach me how to get it to work effortlessly every time!”

Shanks sighs and looks at his watch. “Fineee. The game doesn’t start for another four hours anyway.”

Placing your hands on your hips, you scrunch your nose. “Four hours? Then why the hell are you going there so early?”

Shanks guffaws. “Pre-game drinks, bug! Why else?” Rolling your eyes to the back of your head, you make your way outside to your car. You keep pestering Shanks about different things, trying to buy your time and, slowly, pissing him off inadvertently, until you spot a fancy car coming up the driveway.

“Oh, thank God.” You mutter, having exhausted all your car-related questions in your arsenal.

“Thank God, what? Who’s that?” Shanks closes the door of your car and tilts his head sideways. Once he sees the driver, he groans. “An ambush?” His glare could almost burn holes into you.

“Sorry, Shanks. It’s the only way you’ll speak with Dr. Law! You will undergo that surgery. It’s for your own good!”

Your dad still tries to escape, but as soon as he witnesses the scowl on Law’s face, he stops trying to struggle and resigns himself to the situation. Law is dressed casually without his doctor’s coat on: black t-shirt and again with those cute, spotted jeans. He’s so tall and lean, with defined muscles, but nothing too big. And the tattoos… paired with the earrings and the rebel goatee, they almost make you want to squeal. This man is too damn hot to be walking around.

He says your name as he leaves the car with a sly smile and then turns to your dad. “Mr. S. Hi. So sorry for the ambush, but you wouldn’t come to me, so I had to come to you. I’m told we’re going through with the surgery and I’m here to explain everything.”

Shanks groans and you chuckle. “Let’s go inside, I’ll make coffee.”

Law’s ears perk at that, as you knew they would, and now you’re feeling the pressure of making a good cup of coffee. Fortunately, you’ve just stocked up on some amazing roasted coffee beans that Sanji recommended, and they truly make a delicious brew.

-*-

Two and a half hours are all it takes for Law to go over the questions in your notebook. He compliments your organisational skills with a slight smirk, and a teasing remark about you trying to control everything, but you try to ignore his tone and he continues.

He also answers all of your father’s sillier questions, even the one where he asks if he would lose function of any necessary limbs - you know what he’s referring to and you just shake your head at him - but Law handles it very professionally.

By the end, Shanks seems to be a bit more at ease with the whole process - and frankly, so are you - so he agrees when Law says he’ll schedule all necessary pre-surgery exams and the surgery itself.

Shanks leaves in a hurry to go and meet Beckman because the game should be starting in under two hours and he’s not nearly tipsy enough to watch his team lose. Thanking Law, he leaves you two alone telling you not to wait up for him.

Sighing, you get up from your chair to collect the empty coffee mugs. “That went well!” You can’t hide a soft smile from gracing your lips. Law gets up too as he helps you by grabbing his mug and a plate with cookies you had set out, and follows you to the kitchen.

“It really did. I’ll let you both know when the exams and the surgery are scheduled. His jitters will come back, but, if we’re lucky, only on surgery day. He’s going to be fine.”

You finish placing the dirty mugs in the sink and turn to him, leaning on the counter slightly and nodding your head with a weary smile. “Yes, yes, I know. He’s in good hands.”

Law approaches and, reaching behind you, places his dirty mug in the sink, his body a breath away from yours. You can almost feel his own breath in your ear, just for a moment, before he pulls back and steps away from you.

You release the breath you barely realised had been trapped as he keeps eye contact with you. “Thank you for the coffee you made for me. It was delicious.”

“I…” The praise! The damned praise! It turns your legs into jelly and leaves your tongue tied. You have to clear your throat before you manage to utter a full sentence. “Thank you. Sanji said it was a very good quality bean and I followed his instructions.”

His smirk disarms you as much as his praise and he partners it with a slight chuckle and by crossing his arms over his chest. “And do you always follow instructions that well?”

Oh… cheeky.

“Not always. It depends on the instructions. I tend to be a bit of a brat, sometimes.” You respond in kind to his teasing and, as you notice the glint in his eyes and the slight bob of his throat, you don’t regret it one bit.

“Interesting.”

The look you give each other feels charged with tension, electrical, almost. Again, this was supposed to be a professional visit. Why do the two of you keep playing this dangerous game of teasing each other?

Are you willing to push the game further?

You wouldn’t mind trying a few naughty things with the doctor, but then again, you came to the Calm Belt to get your mind off romantic affairs and help mend your broken heart.

But then again… this wouldn’t be romantic… just a bit of fun. And don’t they say that rebound sex is good for broken hearts?

Your wandering thoughts are cut short by an insistent beep from Law’s pager. He grunts and grabs it, glancing at it before sighing. “It’s the hospital. I have to go. We’ll keep in touch, okay?”

Yeah you wouldn’t mind that… keeping in touch…

“Yes! We’ll wait for the exam confirmations. Thank you for all your help.” You say while accompanying him to the door.

As he descends the steps of the porch, he glances back to give you one last smirk, the tension of your previous moment still hovering above you both. “You did very well with that notebook. It was very thorough and neatly organised.”

Your breath hitches and you feel your cheeks flush with colour. Law opens the door to his car and gazes at you, burning you with his stare. “I can’t wait to witness how you act when you stop trying to control everything and just… surrender.”

His voice is low, teasing and commanding. Laced with a promise of something more, something else, a not so subtle invitation to a very enticing what if. As his car rides up the driveway, you’re left standing in the doorway, your pulse quickening, even though he’s long gone.

-*-

The day of the surgery finally arrives and you’re sure that your father didn’t sleep a wink. And neither have you. You shower and get dressed and when you get downstairs, he’s sitting by the kitchen chair looking very pale and worried.

“Morning, dad.” Shanks can’t eat or drink anything pre-surgery so you fill your coffee cup and stuff an apple in your purse for later. “How are you feeling? Get any sleep?”

Shanks groans. “I’m terrible, bug. I didn’t sleep a wink.”

You smile as you reach and hug his shoulders from behind. “It’s okay, daddy. You’ll sleep under anaesthesia.” He doesn’t laugh as you hoped he would, so you try to reassure him. “Dr. Law is very good at his job, dad. You’ll be in and out in an instant. Everything will be alright! Plus, I’ll be there waiting for you, okay?”

You asked for days off work to help a family member and arranged with Ace to feed the animals on the property, so you’re covered. All you have to do is worry nonstop in a hospital waiting room while your father is being operated on.

Nothing too serious.

Everything passes in a blur after you both leave the house. Shanks is feeling more and more anxious and you aren’t faring much better either. By the time you reach the hospital - in the next town over, where Law performs surgeries on his days off from the clinic - you are both very pale and nauseous.

You check him in and, as he’s being taken to a room to get prepped for surgery, Law appears and asks you to come in so he can speak with both of you. He reviews the process step by step as you nod along - having studied the procedure from front to back, as the little control freak you are - assures you both that he will be there the entire time, reassuring you that it’s a routine procedure and everything will be alright.

Shanks feels better once the nurses start to apply drugs to the IV, but you’re still wound as tight as a rope, so Law gently grasps your arm, leading you to the room where you will be waiting for the surgery to be over. He seats you in a chair and fills a cup of water from the dispenser.

“Drink.” He uses the commanding tone you’re slowly getting used to, and you do as you’re told. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ll take care of your father. He’s a strong man and this is routine. He’s got this.” Your eyes fix somewhere in front of you, staring into a void as your heart thumps against your eardrums in a deafening rhythm. Law’s firm hand captures your chin as he tilts your head up to meet his amber gaze. “I’ve got this. I won’t let anything happen to him. Do you trust me?”

It seems like such a charged question. As if he’s asking this and meaning so much more than the hours he’ll spend operating on your dad. Yet, you have no doubt about the answer.

“I do.” You whisper softly.

Nodding, he turns to leave. “It will pass in an instant, okay? Try not to worry.” He leaves you alone, feeling the weight of fear crushing you and pressing down on your back. You feel helpless, impotent about what you can do to help, to make sure the outcome is a happy one.

But everything feels too out of control.

Half an hour passes. The clock ticks relentlessly, and you still haven't moved. You brought a book and your cell phone is fully charged, yet you haven’t even taken your purse off your shoulder, your fingers still clutch the plastic cup that Law filled with water for you.

Your throat is dry yet you can’t find the strength to get more water. Your breath comes in shallow, uneven gasps, and your legs are restless.

Another ten minutes pass before you feel a light tap on your shoulder, pulling you back from the stress of the unknown, the unplanned, and the endless possibilities of what can go wrong.

“Kaya?” You whisper, your voice hoarse and ragged with fear.

Your friend smiles at you as she sits down by your side. “Dr. Law called me. He said to leave the clinic to the two morons - Penguin and Shachi are some of his closest friends, did you know that? - and said that I should come to you, immediately! Leaving no chance to argue back. He said he would pay me extra, but I told him to shove the berries in his back pocket because I’d gladly help you without any coercion.”

You blink slowly, your mind still too deep in the fog of uncertainty to really focus on Kaya’s words. Besides, she just dumped a lot of information on you, though one thought lingers front and centre: Law told her to come to you.

“Wait, Law told you to come here?”

She squeals excitedly while nodding with vigour. “He did! He said you looked scared and on the verge of a panic attack and he didn’t want you to be alone in the waiting room for two to three hours. How romantic is that?”

You take a deep breath and, finally, lean back in your chair, removing the strap from your purse and drinking the rest of the water. You already feel more at ease. Kaya’s presence is already reassuring you and easing your fears. “Not as romantic as you make it seem, since I’m about to shit my pants with fear.”

Kaya chuckles and takes the empty cup from your hand, throwing it in the trash and sitting back down. She takes your hand in hers in a reassuring way. “Honey, there’s no need to fret. Dr. Law is the best. You really don’t have to worry. You have no idea how many awards he has! And he’s still so young! He’s not even thirty yet, the man is a medical genius or something!”

She chuckles again and you stare in awe. You had no idea. Kaya sees your reaction and continues.

“He even skipped a few grades in school. He took advanced classes and entered university two years early! He managed to finish his degree in half the time. He’s really smart and diligent.”

“Wow…” You say dumbly. “I didn’t know that. He did seem very professional and young, but I had no idea he was so good.”

“Honey, he’s much better than just good! I guarantee you that!” She giggles one more time, certainly already adding another chapter to her imaginary novel of your romance. “Did you know he comes from money?”

Raising a brow you turn fully to her, waiting for her to continue.

“He’s related to the Donquixotes. They’re filthy rich.”

Oh, you know damn well who the Donquixotes are. They’re close friends of the Vinsmokes, your ex’s family. You know they have loads of money, influence, power, status… you name it. You never made official acquaintance with them, but you glimpsed the head of the family, Donquixote Doflamingo, at some important parties, and the whole demeanour of the man demands respect.

You had no idea Law was related to them.

“I had no idea, Kaya. I know who they are. My ex’s family was very influential and they often frequented the same social circles.”

She’s just about to retort with some more gossip - you assume - when the staff door opens and a slightly frazzled nurse comes to speak with you. Immediately standing, you hope to hear her say that the surgery’s over, but her countenance tells you otherwise, and her words confirm it.

“There was a slight complication with your father’s procedure. There’s some unexpected swelling and inflammation in the tissue surrounding the herniated disc. Dr. Law wanted me to reassure you that all is well, and the only thing this means is that the surgery will be prolonged since he needs to proceed slower and with more caution.” The nurse gives you a strained smile. “He was very adamant that I make sure you understood that he would never let anything happen to your father and to confirm you were already accompanied by Nurse Kaya.”

You nod as you slump back down in the chair, all words stripped away from you, leaving Kaya to answer instead.

“Thank you nurse. Please assure Dr. Law that I’m with her and she’s very grateful for his help.”

The nurse nods and goes back inside while you review the surgery procedure again in your head. You remember reading something in the complications section about tissue swelling. Going back and forth on your mental notes, you don’t think it's something to worry about, but that means that Shanks is going to be under anaesthesia for at least one or two hours more than originally planned and-...

“What? Sorry!” You answer, as Kaya had been repeating your name for a while, trying to ground you back in reality.

“I said he’s going to be fine! It’s a very normal thing to happen in these procedures. Dr. Law is perfectly equipped to handle it! Remember? He’s a genius!”

You nod vigorously. You know he’s going to be fine. You just know.

He has to.

-*-

Five hours and thirty-three minutes.

That is the total amount of time that your father stayed in the operating room. But now that a nurse has come by to tell you the surgery is over and they are moving him to the recovery room, you can finally breathe.

Kaya has stayed by your side the whole time. You received a bunch of phone calls from your friends and neighbours and time passed. Sometimes slowly, other times in a blink. But now everything is fine.

And the man you have to thank for that, has just opened the door to speak with you. His eyes seem weary and tired, the bags under them a bit more pronounced, but he has a reassuring smile on his lips as he approaches you.

He says your name and you get up to meet him halfway. “The surgery is over, Mr. S. is fine and will recover from the anaesthesia in one or two hours. After that he’ll be transferred to a room where I specifically said that you were allowed in, at any time of the day during how long you wish to remain.”

Your eyes feel wet and prickly as the lump in your throat tightens and makes it hard to breathe. Kaya squeezes your hand and Law continues.

“Despite the unexpected complication, everything went according to plan. The hernia was removed and, after appropriate recovery time and some physical therapy, your father will recover perfectly well.”

You are so grateful that you have to fight the urge to wrap your arms around his neck. “Thank you, Law.” The sound that comes from your lips is a mere whisper.

“I told you to trust me, didn’t I?” His smile deepens and you hear a muffled squeal coming from Kaya, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Law. “Nurse Kaya, thank you for being here.”

She nods and grins at him. “I would never leave our girl alone and afraid, Dr. Law!”

Our girl? You raise an eyebrow at her expecting Law to make some stern remark, but he just chuckles and nods. “Right.” He says. “Thank you. I will check on Mr. S. in a couple of hours.” Then he stares straight into your eyes, his amber gaze full of care and assuredness. “If you need anything at all, you have my number.”

-*-

Kaya wants to stay with you until you are allowed to see your dad, but you tell her to go home. Usopp, her fiancé, has already called her because she’s usually off work by now, and you don’t want to impose.

Besides, there’s nothing else to be scared of. The surgery is over and Shanks is fine.

She finally relents and leaves you alone and you barely have to wait another hour before the nurse summons you and takes you to your father’s room. He’s lying in bed with a very tired look on his face.

“Dad!” You exclaim as soon as you enter.

“Bug, I thought you were home.” His voice seems very hoarse and you can see he’s making an effort, so you sit down in the chair next to the bed and take his hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Don’t speak, dad. Just rest. I’m so happy you’re okay. Law said I was allowed to stay in your room for as long as I wish. I’ll stay here with you!” You eye the couch set in the corner of the room. It seems perfectly comfortable for you to sleep on. You just don’t want to leave him.

You forced him to undergo surgery, so you feel responsible for his well-being and want to be there to cater to his every need.

He nods and closes his eyes. “Are you in pain? Just nod or shake your head, don’t try to speak.” He shakes his head and you sigh. “Okay daddy.” You lean in and place a lingering kiss on his temple. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

“How are we feeling?” Law asks from near your chair and you jump. You didn’t even hear him enter the room.

Shanks opens his eyes but doesn’t speak, instead, he raises his thumb to give Law a thumbs up, making the doctor chuckle lightly.

“Alright, Mr. S., I’m going to do a quick check-up before leaving you to rest for the night, okay?” Shanks nods and you get up to give Law some space. After he finishes the exam, checking the drugs in the IV bag and his charts, Shanks is already snoring, so he beckons you to follow him outside the room.

“How is he?” Anxiety laces your question as you wring your fingers together. “From what I’ve read, there can be about a 10% chance of post-surgery infection, so we need to watch out for any redness or swelling, and maybe some fever. Though since he’s under a lot of drugs, we might not spot a fever right away. And, oh! There’s also a supposed 3% chance of blood clots occurring -...”

“Relax.” His hands rest against your shoulders, pressing firmly while his thumbs draw soft circles against your shirt. “I told you I’ve got this. Your father’s in good hands. You said you trusted me.”

You open your mouth to speak, clearly still meaning to add more information about post-surgical statistics you’ve been reading about since Kaya left, but one of his hands climbs up your shoulder and rests on your cheek in an affectionate gesture, much more intimate than you were expecting.

“Relax. There’s no need to be in control now. I’m in control here. Okay? Just let go.”

All the breath leaves your lungs at once. The firmness of his touch and the assuredness of his voice make you nod and comply, your shoulders slumping forward, immediately relaxing your posture.

What the hell?

You have suffered quite a bit in the past with anxiety and stressful situations, often finding yourself spiralling because you couldn’t control a specific situation. You had never managed to calm down so easily, so effortlessly. Ichiji only made it worse, so you never really had an anchor to ground you. But Law… he did it in the blink of an eye. With a touch and a few words.

This is a first.

Surprise is still etched on your face when he steps back, leaving only a cold void within you. “His vitals are all stable and he’s not in pain. The night nurse will keep monitoring his condition. You’re welcome to stay by his side or go home and rest. He’s in good hands.”

You nod, still too stunned to speak and exhaustion is beginning to take its toll on your body and mind. “I’ll… I’ll stay. My brain is too numb to drive home now.”

He nods in understanding. “I’ll be here around lunchtime to check on him again. Try to rest. Everything’s alright now.”

Once again, his words stir something within you, a feeling of safety, and you nod in agreement.

It will all be fine now.

|Chapter 3|

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #op #the meet cute #modern day au #reader insert #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar d law #trafalgar law #law x reader #law #reader x law #reader x trafalgar law #Spotify

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baronessvonglitter · 2 months ago

Text

Law of Attraction ~ Chapter 5

Rom Com AU divorce lawyer!Dave York x fem!Reader (featuring nightclub owner!Javier Pena)

Word count: 4,200

Summary: Dealing with emotions is difficult when you and Dave realize how you really feel about each other. When a night in turns sour, you seek help from an unexpected source.

(spoilers beneath the cut so beware)

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit for smut. Feelings of angst about failed relationship. Fantasizing. Dave in gray sweatpants OML. Fix-it Dave ooh la la! Mention of sex toys/masturbation (f & m). Reader and Dave are down so bad for each other and feeling extremely guilty over it. Pineapple on pizza is its own warning. Fluff. Soft!Dave. Tipsy kissing/making out. Dry humping. You and Dave have your first big fight. Shower self-love. Sex with an Ex. (Sorry about that, but we all make mistakes, right?)

Author's note: We've reached the angst-y part of the story. The course of true love never runs smooth round here, folks. Thanks for everyone sticking through!

Series Masterlist

Despite your blossoming friendship with Dave, who's been a rock and a safe space for you post-divorce, sometimes intrusive thoughts come in the form of your ex-husband Javier.

You really can't help it - you'd been with him so long and he'd been the main man in your life, your first, your only. It still feels like infidelity when you try out a dating app just to test the waters. You imagine him doing the same thing then chastise yourself for thinking that Javier would even need to advertise himself just to get a woman. He's probably forgotten all about you by now, probably fucking every cocktail waitress in his establishment, not a thought or care for you while he's chasing tail.

It makes you angry when you linger on who's been in the bed you shared with him, rolled around in the sheets you picked out, whose moans were muffled by the pillows you'd bought specifically for their perfect fluffiness.

Whenever you get an intrusive thought about Javier, you simply think of Dave, and the first detail that comes to mind is his eyes.

You've noticed the subtle way they scan you from head to toe, making you hyper-aware of your chosen outfit of the day. He doesn't linger on any certain part, and you're grateful he can hide whatever thoughts he has. When you speak he seems to truly listen instead of waiting for you to finish so he can talk. And when he smiles or laughs, his eyes have the most adorable crinkles in the corners. You've caught yourself staring too long more than a few times.

If you let your imagination drift even further you think about his lips, how soft they look, the way his tongue swipes across them after a sip of your freshly brewed coffee.

It's easy to forget that he's married, especially when it's just so easy between you, so natural. You tell yourself not to get too sentimental over someone who has a wife and kids, an entire life separate from you that existed before you knew him.

Trying to put your new bed frame together, you realize you don't have you don't have the right tools to complete it. When he finally calls you back you can hear him out of breath on the other line.

"Did I catch you at a bad time?" you ask, a little flustered.

"No, just finished my run," he says.

You explain about your task, and lack of tools for it. He offers his own toolkit and says he'll meet you at your place in twenty.

When you answer the door for him, you're taken aback. Usually in a suit, or at the very least, trousers or jeans and a button-up, it's a strange thrill to see him so casual in dark blue t-shirt and gray sweatpants, toolbox in his hand.

...gray sweatpants.

Your eyes drift downward of their own accord, the quintessential female gaze. Dave waits patiently for you to let him in.

"Sorry!" Heat rushes to the surface of your skin as you lead him to your bedroom, offering water or anything else to drink. Less than an hour later you have the bed frame put together, boxspring, mattress, and sheets on top.

"You can shower here, if you want," you offer, bringing him a green apple Gatorade. He hesitates at first, then admits it'd probably be easier than having to drive back home in sweaty clothes.

While he's in the shower you wash his clothes, trying not to think about him under the hot spray. Has he left the door unlocked? Do you dare to test it? You tell yourself these are irrational thoughts, brought on because he's a new friend and you find him attractive. Once he leaves you're going to put your rose toy to good use for the rest of the night.

Of course he's perfect. He's a lawyer for god's sake. And he's kind, and gorgeous, and so smart, and funny. He likes old movies, he's a good dad, he remembers little things about me, he really listens when I'm talking, and of course he has a perfect cock. I haven't seen it yet, but I know it's big. Maybe even bigger than Javier. Ugh, don't think about him. Think about those gray sweatpants and how good they'd look on my bedroom floor, or maybe even slid down just low enough for him to slide right in-

"Sweetie?" your mom's voice cuts through your fantasy.

"Hm?" You sit up in your chair, swallowing the saliva that's pooled in your mouth, along with the tanginess of the mimosas your mom had made for brunch. Your mom and sister chuckle, exchanging a glance.

"You're on another planet," your sister remarks. "Mom's got a menopausal snail trail going. You're better off tuning out."

Your mother swats at your sister's arm. "I was just talking about that gorgeous Idris Elba. He's my hall pass, you know."

"Mom," you groan. "I don't think we need to know everything about you."

The Sunday morning conversation has turned to men, and you wonder if you've given off signals of your own romantic confusion. You cheeks feel hot and you blame it on the champagne cocktails.

"You've hardly touched your crepes," your mom says, fussing over you. "I hope you're not running a fever." She checks for a temperature on your forehead.

"I'm okay, I promise," you tell her.

"I hope you're not overworking yourself, dear."

You don't want the attention on you because you're sure your mother will tap into her trusty intuition and notice something's off, maybe even read your thoughts.

Luckily your sister takes over, talking about the art program she's starting next semester, and you mouth a 'thank you' as your mother gives her attention instead.

To properly thank Dave for his help, you invite him over for homemade pizza. You hold your own little contest to see whose toppings are better, You allow him the win, simply because he's the only other person you know who adores pineapple on pizza.

Dinner turns into a movie night, and you open up to him in a new way as you scroll through the streaming service app, giving him a glimpse of tv shows and documentaries you've not caught up on, and ones you listed as to-watch.

Over a bottle of moscato and a shared bag of Starburst (you disagree on your favorites when he says strawberry is best, when clearly cherry is the winner) you settle in in front of the warm glow of the tv as you play a movie.

You lean your head on his shoulder and Dave tries to ignore the way his body reacts to your closeness, the way your soft hair brushes against his skin, the subtle scent of your shampoo rising up to greet him, to tease him. He wraps his arm around your shoulders.

"I really like this.. spending time with you," you murmur, eyes on the tv before they flicker up to meet his. "I mean it."

"I like spending time with you too. You seem happier," he notes, eyes taking in every feature of your face from the sparkle in your eyes to the chicken pox scar right above your eyebrow that he finds so endearing. Technically, his words are a lie. He loves spending his time with you. The more he's with you the more he realizes the small things in life he's been missing out on, like seeing a painting for the details for the first time rather than the big picture as a whole.

You shrug. "I'm happy for the most part. I have mostly everything I want. I should be really happy with 'mostly.' Not everyone gets to have a 'mostly.'"

"That's true," he responds, feeling as if you're talking about his own life, the missing pieces somehow missing when you're together. "Maybe all life is, is just enjoying the 'mostly.'" Without thinking about it he brushes a loose strand of your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. The small simple gesture makes you shiver as the air between you thickens with tension.

"More wine?" you ask in hopes of breaking the spell

He accepts, and you refill both your glasses, clinking your glasses together in a quick toast. For one brief moment as your lips touch the wine you allow yourself the audacity to think about his wife.

You open your mouth to speak then shut it, thinking better of it.

"No, say it," Dave smirks. "What's on your mind?"

Guilt, the kind only truly innocent people can feel, keeps you from looking at him when you ask, "Does Carol ever accuse you of anything going on between us?"

He honestly hasn't expected that question, the wine dulling his usually sharp perception. "No, she doesn't. I don't think she knows about 'us' at all."

"Okay," you nod. "Good.."

"Why'd you ask?"

"I just think if she had any suspicion then we'd have to take a step back, out of respect, you know?"

Suddenly the thought of stepping back into anything resembling the life he had before he met you sounds unpalatable. "Do you want to take a step back?"

"No, I don't," you're quick to reply. "But if she ever thought.." you sigh, leaving that thought unfinished. "I'm just projecting my trust issues where they don't need to go.."

"I see where you're coming from," Dave says. "But I'm telling you, I could leave town for a week and Carol wouldn't question it, so long as the money shows up in our joint bank account and as long as I'm on time for whatever black tie charity event she's spearheading that week."

You smile, stroking his arm. "See? This is why I like you. We hold our own little pity parties and drink wine and watch old movies." And when you rest your head on his shoulder again, it takes everything in him to keep from pressing his lips to the top of your head.

"Do you want to watch another one?" you ask. "Or do you have to get home?"

He's tempted, so tempted to stay, to bask in the lovely warmth that is you. But now you've put Carol in his mind and he's starting to sober up just a little. "I should probably get going. I've got a meeting tomorrow morning."

"Oh.." you try to hide your disappointment. "Of course. I understand."

Dave takes a breath to clear his dangerous thoughts, downing the last of the wine in his glass before he focuses on ordering an Uber. Though you'd promised you could drive him home, he didn't want to risk it as you'd also been drinking. "Should be here in fifteen minutes," he says, stumbling forward as he tries to stand.

"Whoa.. hey," you chuckle, holding him steady. He manages to stay on his feet, holding onto your shoulders. He feels the heat radiating off you, he can smell the freesia of your perfume. His body reacts on an instinctual level, one he hasn't allowed in so long. He needs to have you. Right now.

"Are you okay?" you ask softly, steadying him. "I can drive you home. Cancel your ride." Your hand cups his cheek.

The heat that's been building up in his chest has moved further down towards his groin, your touch only furthering his struggle to control his thoughts. "No, no.. better not risk it. We've both been drinking," he says, the one principle that hasn't been clouded by your proximity.

"I guess wine sneaks up on the best of us," you admit, feeling the effects after all. "I just want to make sure you'll get home okay."

His hands travel down, landing at your waist as he leans his head on top of yours. "I am home.."

Your eyes close, body heating up with the closeness of him, the familiarity that you've thought about but never acted on. Your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, bringing you close together, the beat of your hearts nearly tangible.

"No one's touched me since.." Since Javier is what you mean to say, but uttering his name feels sacrilegious in the intimacy of the space you share, and a sweet chill goes through you when Dave's hands wander down to your hips. His voice is husky as he says, "I don't know how anybody could keep their hands off you."

Lips parted as you gasp, you try to explain. "I meant touched as in something simple and nice.. like this.." You realize how needy you must sound to him. "..like, how you're holding me now. Just.. friendly."

There's a tightness in his chest at your word. Friendly. That word alone should calm him down, but it has the opposite effect, exciting him further. He wants to give you more than just a friendly touch. He wants to do more than just be friends with you. "Friendly? Is that what you want me to be? Just friendly?"

You nod. "You're my best friend, my only friend these days."

That word is like a knife in his chest, taking away all his restraint. Suddenly both his hands grip your ass, pulling you into an embrace that is more than just friendly. "Is that all you want me to be?"

"Dave!" you gasp as you're pressed close to him. And fuck he's hard. Maybe this was what you needed to finally cross the line, not just blur it. Desire pools in your abdomen, slick suddenly coating your panties as your mouths finally meet in a hot and hungry kiss, tasting of wine and candy as you roll around on the couch.

Every part of Dave's body that isn't touching yours feels empty. His tongue invades your mouth, hips settling between your thighs, grinding himself against you. Your fingers card through his hair, tongue dueling against his. He'd imagined this for weeks now, but was never sure he'd ever feel this with you. He wants more, he wants all of you. This fact is cemented as you pull his tongue into your own mouth, sucking on it.

"Wait.. wait.." you groan, pushing him away. "We can't."

He groans as well, all rational thought foreign to him as most of his blood has journeyed south, evident in the unmistakable bulge you'd just enjoyed him teasing you with. He gives himself some time to cool down as you move away from him. "Yeah.." he says eventually, head in his hands. "You're right, we can't."

Still worked up, you sigh deeply, still tasting him on your tongue, still feeling the rocking of his hips. "If I sleep with you then I'm no better than any of those bitches who slept with Javier."

There's a sharp look in his eyes as he pins you down with his stare, his pride wounded. "Hey. Don't ever compare me to that bastard. I am nothing like him."

"Dave, I didn't mean-"

He knows it's probably the blue balls talking, all the heat of the moment soured from its initial passion. He holds up his hand to stop you from saying anything further, from explaining what he doesn't want to hear. His mind starts to clear. He'd let himself get carried away. He's in your home, drinking your wine, sitting on your sofa, and getting ready to fuck you the way he'd imagined it so many times before. He stands and steps away from you. "If I was just like him I wouldn't give a damn about you. I'd have taken what I wanted and left without a single thought for you." To add salt to the burn he adds, "It would have been that easy."

Anger and hurt flares within you. "Careful, Dave. You're on the same path he started on, and it's a slippery slope for cheaters."

His eyes widen in surprise at your coldness, forgetting how icy his own words had been towards you. He'd come to you for fun and comfort, to shed the stress of work and life, not to get in your pants, though he's not upset it had nearly gone that way. "You think I came here tonight to cheat on my wife? You think I'm trying to be the next scumbag to break your heart?"

"You spend all this time with me instead of your own wife. And just now.." you release a shuddering breath, "you mean to tell me that if I hadn't stopped you we wouldn't be rutting against each other like wild dogs?"

Dave's anger dissipates, replaced by a sense of shame. You're calling him out big time, and he doesn't really have a response. He's spent more time with you in the past few months than he has with his wife in over a year. With a frustrated sigh he lets his head hang.

Through the living room window you see a pair of headlights pull up to the curb outside your house. "You should go. Your Uber's here."

"Yeah," he mutters, getting his jacket before he heads for the door. You watch him leave, so many other things you want to say are on the tip of your tongue, but you don't dare let them loose. You've already crossed a line with him, and you can't forgive yourself for the way you feel about him. His leaving is for the best.

The air is cool outside, letting the heat dissolve in his system, bringing some lucidity to his situation. But it doesn't help the gnawing feeling inside, his anger at himself for speaking that way to you. He's a ball of emotion right now. Before getting into his ride he casts one last glance at your window. There you are, the most beautiful woman he's ever known, the one he's fantasized about and lost sleep over. He came so close to having you to himself tonight, but you were right to stop him. It was a mistake.

He tries to compose himself in the backseat of the Uber, to make sense of who you are and what you mean to him. Of course you would attach yourself to the one man who'd been there for you to sever your connection to your ex. Maybe you had an innate gratitude, maybe you saw him as a hero. That's all it could be.

Suddenly his cell phone buzzes in his jacket pocket. Carol's name flashes on the screen.

"Honey, where are you?" she asks when he answers.

Dave pinches the bridge of his nose. "Hey, babe. I just went for a drink after work. What's up?"

"I just miss you," she says.

A wave of guilt courses through him, sharp and hot. Nauseating. "I miss you too, babe. I'll be home soon."

It's a surprise for him to be greeted by her as soon as he comes through the door. Even more so when she reaches up to kiss him. "You taste sweet. Like candy," she comments with a smile.

Her lips are soft, familiar, but they cause no reaction in him like they used to. Not like how kissing you felt. He gently pulls away, removing his jacket and putting it on the coathanger. "I had some jello shots at the bar," he lies.

Behind him, she puts her arms around his middle. "The girls are asleep. Want to come upstairs?"

Dave's body and his mind recoil, his guilt piloting his next move. Does she know? Can she sense it? "I'm a bit tired," he answers. "I think I'm just going to shower and go to bed."

"I could join you.."

A rush of heat is sent straight to his dick at her persistence. The thought of getting any type of action tonight is intriguing. But for some crazy reason he can't find the will to say yes.

"Not tonight, babe. I can barely stand straight as it is.."

"Oh." Carol is disappointed. "Are you sure?"

He nods. "Next time, yeah?"

"Yeah. Fine." She moves past him to the kitchen.

Once again he's disappointed her. What if it was a test? Things haven't been great between them, yet she's never accused him of having an affair. Not that he hasn't been tempted, heaven knows he's only a man. But you're the first person to actually make him want to cross that line.

He hates himself and he hates disappointing you and Carol.

Your scent is still on his clothes as he discards them before getting in the shower. He lets the water beat down on him, grabbing the soap and washing away any trace of you on his skin. But if only it could wash away the memory of the way you kissed him back, your body pliant beneath his on the sofa, the way he fit so perfectly between your parted thighs-

Without thinking about it his hand is already fisted around his cock, the soft suds a sad replacement for what he imagines the glorious slipperiness of your tight channel must feel like.

Carol's voice comes through the door, knocking him from his fantasy. "I have to go into work for a little while. I'll see you later."

He rinses the last of the soap off him before turning off the spray. "You're going in now? At this hour?"

"Dave, it's a hospital. They never close. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Okay.. bye. Be safe," he says, getting out and drying off his hair.

It's hours later and Dave still hasn't caught a wink of sleep. He's tossed and turned, punched his pillow, flipped it, punched it again. Carol is still gone. Once, Alice wakes up and asks him for a glass of water, which he happily obliges as it allows him to do something other than thinking. But as soon as she's had her drink she goes back to sleep and he's left alone with his thoughts again.

It's a few hours before dawn when he gets a text from you:

Hey, I'll pick you up later today to get your car from my place.

Dave exhales deeply. He can't just ignore you. He really does need his car back. But distance is the only way he can control himself right now.

Don't worry about it. I'll get Carol to drop me off and get it. Thanks though.

He waits for the read reply and gets no response from you. In this he feels more regret than satisfaction. Yet his thoughts still drift to the taste of your mouth, your body crushed against his, your hands in his hair. Desperate for release, the only way he's going to get any sleep is to take care of himself, to finish what he'd started in the shower earlier.

He'd left you so on edge, but it wasn't his fault. As Dave's Uber left with him in it, you hated yourself for what you did next. You picked up your phone and called the one person you shouldn't have.

Still wrapped in the bedsheets, you watch as Javier lights a cigarette and exhales a puff of smoke as he rests against the headboard. Both of you are still sweaty, the pleasure fading to a gentle throb between your legs as your breathing slowly returns to normal.

"I miss you," he says, running a finger along your bare arm.

"This was a mistake," you tell him, shaking your head. You never imagined that you'd feel disgust and shame after such a passionate encounter, but the life you've lived since leaving your husband has shown you a million more possibilities, and you're ashamed that you've fallen back into one that's already been proven not to bring you happiness.

"Don't say that, mi amor" he begs, stamping out his cigarette and reaching out for you as you reach over for your clothes on the floor. "You came to me for a reason. You must still have love for me in your heart."

"I came back to familiarity," you correct him, cursing when you can't find your underwear. Just moments before he'd had you in every position and even a few ones you didn't know existed. He'd counted out loud each time your cunt quivered around him, as if taunting you. "And now I'm truly done."

"Done? With me?"

"Javi, honey, you're only good for one thing," you tell him, shimmying into your panties.

And just to prove the universe has a sense of humor, in walks Cindy, the woman you'd found Javi cheating with in this very bed.

"Great.. just great," you mutter, getting the rest of your clothes on. "Don't worry, Cindy, I'm not staying, Not ever again, I hope you enjoy the house. I did all the decorating. But a little word of advice: give your relationship a second thought. If he cheated on me, he'll do the same to you. You can't build your house on another woman's tears and expect it to stand."

Cindy is still speechless at your presence, and Javi just hangs his head.

"Everything that's attractive and charming and fun about him now will eventually wear off. Cindy, you're young and beautiful. Find someone who isn't going to ruin that."

With one more look around, you leave, more confident than you've ever felt in your life.

dividers by @strangergraphics 👑

taglist: @penascigarette @joelalorian @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

@darkheartgatita @speaktothehandpeasants @rav3n-pascal22

@vickie5446 @mrs-pedro-pascal @zascal @sunnytuliptime

@mysticsuitcasealmondwombat @joelmillerisapunk

@almostfoxglove @itwasntimethatdidit40 @604to647

@milla-frenchy @everybodylovedcontractors @misstokyo7love

@ppascalq

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haodarling · 8 months ago

Text

Like the Movies

about: a series of my favorite movies reimagined with (some of) the boys of seventeen.

notes: the movies inspired the fics, please don’t expect it to be an exact word for word reenactment of the films; i had a couple of ideas and decided to roll with it. unfortunately i will not be doing all of the boys as some of them are key side characters unless specifically requested! the stories are interrelated in some way; it won’t be explicitly stated but try and look for crumbs!

also! most if not all the y/ns in the fics are directly stated to be female due to some of the stories heavily relying on y/n’s biological sex to be female.

currently working on: pretty girl !

Pretty Girl

based on: Legally Blonde

pairing: law student! joshua x heiress! reader // ex boyfriend! wen junhui x reader

synopsis: the youngest of 3 successful sisters, no one expects you to accomplish anything save for sitting still and looking pretty, but after your boyfriend dumps you for a much more educated girl, you get your eldest sister to pay your way into harvard law where you meets joshua hong, who does not seem to appreciate how lightly you takes things.

tropes: opposites attract, popular girl x nerd boy but with a twist, they start off at the wrong foot, it gets resolved, joshua will say hurtful things along the way though

A Sweet Haven

based on: Notting Hill // Maid in Manhattan

pairing: golden retriever!mingyu x single mother!y/n

synopsis: never in your wildest dreams did you expect acclaimed actor, kim mingyu, to stumble into your quaint bakery and ask you to hide him from the onslaught of paparazzi. what began as one chance encounter turns into constant visits to you and your daughter. but just as you begin to see a future between the two of you, the reminder of his fame and reputation hovers over the both you.

tropes: forbidden romance, single mom! reader, mingyu’s an actor, secret relationship

Hot and Cold

based on: Pride and Prejudice // Emma

pairing: wonwoo x reader, seokmin x oc

synopsis: as the eldest child of your family, you have only ever wanted the best for your siblings. so when your sister confesses to being in love with someone— you do everything you can to make sure they both end up together… but the infuriatingly handsome brother of your sister’s beau seems to be against the union altogether.

tropes: enemies to lovers, they really don’t like each other at first, just two people being protective of their younger siblings, elder sibling trauma written by an only child LOL

Mr and Mrs. Choi

based on: Mr. and Mrs. Smith

pairing: agent!scoups x agent!reader

synopsis: you and seungcheol (code name: scoups) have a bit of a work place rivalry going on, and the agency wants to put you both to the test by pairing you up with each other in a mission that would determine who gets the promotion… the catch being that you both would have to play a married couple.

tropes: rivals to lovers, technically also coworkers to lovers, fake marriage au, a lot of back and forths, cheol is a teasing lil shit with y/n, will very much include the old “the target is gonna notice we’re tailing him hurry let’s make out”

Love Me Tomorrow

based on: 2 week’s notice // flipped

pairing: jeonghan x reader

synopsis: your friends and coworkers say you’re foolish for harboring a crush on the worst man ever; aka your boss. yoon jeonghan is a successful ceo, and he is well aware of the hold he has over you; often using you to perform minute and tiresome errands. but what happens when you finally draw the line?

tropes: unrequited love (initially), she fell first but he fell harder, hannie’s an asshole here ngl, he gets better i promise, y/n is on a path to self love, when hannie realized he loves her he’s so pathetic i swear

Something Borrowed, Something New

based on: My best friend’s wedding

pairing: minghao x extraverted!reader, slight vernon x reader, and slight minghao x oc

synopsis: you love your fiancee you truly do, and you were very sure he felt the same long enough to propose to you; but he’s quiet, and well- you’re not. you know this, and so you always make sure you are not too spirited in days where he doesn’t feel it. but when he runs into his old college friends, you could not help but notice how he becomes a lot livelier with his childhood best friend.

tropes: established relationship, opposites attract, golden retriever y/n and black cat minghao, angst, like a lot of it, hao has a girl best friend :(( , two people who don’t communicate because of their own personal reasons

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #angst #fluff #suggestive #svt angst #svt fluff #svt imagines #scoups x reader #joshua x reader #jeonghan x reader #wonwoo x reader #mingyu x reader #the8 x reader #like the movies — satin #minghao x reader

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petit-etoile · 1 year ago

Note

Oh oh I have an AU I haven't had the chance to write anything for. It's pre-vampirism magistrate Astarion and criminal tav who is incredibly well-versed in law. They keep committing crimes and getting caught in purpose just to see Astarion who fucking hates their guts because he can't ever convict them of anything bc they find loopholes and somehow manage to evade the law. It's an "at each other's throats" kinda romance and they kiss with teeth between cases

darling, if you love me say it back

pairing . ⊱ astarion x tav wordcount . ⊱ 3,604 content warnings . ⊱ canon compliant temporary character death, tav isn't a human but can be whatever else you like, astarion isn't a vampire yet, tav is gender neutral other tags . ⊱ canon compliant, canon temporary character death, introspection, p.orn without plot, oral s/ex, desk s.ex, inappropriate use of a cravat, c.reampie archiveofourown . ⊱ here.

taglist . ⊱ @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, @ghosts-and-ink, @b4um3pfl4um3, @gunslingerorchid, @hypopxia, @m0ssytrees, @erysione, @odette-attackattack, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ashrio20, @wills-mental-illness, @queenofcarrotflowers-s, @kirahlene be added . ⊱ here .

summary . ⊱ The Magistrate Judge Astarion Ancunin has a soft spot for you. You like to exploit that fact.

‘I need to see you in my office,’ Astarion hisses — and the tips of his ears are so red you think they might catch flame. He grabs you by the elbow roughly and tugs. ‘Now.’

‘Let’s do it, baby,’ you say smugly. ‘I know the law.’

Knowing the law might be an overstatement. You have studied the law for only one purpose, and that purpose you know like the back of your hand. So when Astarion presses you, you don’t argue. You do as the magistrate says and allow yourself to be dragged across the court. He admonishes you like one would get onto a dog who misbehaves. You can’t help but laugh.

It isn’t like Astarion isn’t a super serious magistrate with a focus on criminal prosecution. He wants to nail you for your sins, for your crimes. The only catch is that no matter how amazing Astarion is at his job, you’re simply better. If you’ve stolen something, you’re more than capable of hiding the evidence. If you’ve murdered someone, you know all the best ways to hide a body. It comes naturally.

Astarion is wearing that ever familiar frown as he marches through the elegant halls. It’s a frown that says you’re in trouble and there’s nothing that I can do. But that isn’t necessarily true. Astarion will do anything you ask so long as you ask nicely, and you’ve been getting good at asking nicely lately. He prides himself in training you even if it isn’t that simple. He calls it rehabilitation. You call it sex.

‘You can’t keep doing this, you know,’ Astarion snaps at you. ‘At some point you must give it up!’

He isn’t good at whispering when he’s riled up. He runs his free hand through his curls in anger, pushing them away from his face like his bangs being wild make it hard to think. It makes him more attractive.

‘You don’t mean that,’ you say with a shrug.

‘I do,’ he says, ‘very much mean that.’

You grin. ‘You would miss me,’ you tell him lasciviously, and he groans. ‘I know you would.’

He huffs. ‘The only thing that I would miss is the peace after the headache you’ve given me. It’s as though you aren’t even aware of how vexing you are.’

You laugh, and the fine line of Astarion’s temper snaps. He all but throws you in his office and locks it behind him. He’s annoyed with the way you stagger dramatically to one of the velvet couches before his desk. You lean over the arm and kick your feet up.

‘Does the idea of cuffs around my wrists excite you?’

You look over your shoulder. Astarion clenches his jaw. It must hurt to frown as hard as he is. You pull yourself onto the cushions and sit demurely. You study him. His rigid lines, tense gaze. He comes and sits on the edge of his desk, pressing his forehead into his hands as if that will relieve him of his headache. You��re determined to make it worse.

‘I apologize,’ you say sweetly. ‘I’ll behave from now on.’

‘We both know that you are not capable of behaving,’ Astarion says thinly.

He shouldn’t have said that. You can’t help yourself, but most of the time, Astarion makes it so easy for you to dig into his weaknesses and exploit them. You stare at him with wide, innocent eyes.

‘You should teach me,’ you suggest.

Astarion’s patience snaps. ‘I beg your pardon? Have some decorum, please!’

‘Having decorum is so boring,’ you say, pouting. ‘Life is much more fun when you live freely.’

‘And committing crimes is your definition of living freely?’

‘What is the point of living if not to live?’ you ask. ‘Why confine myself to rules of good or bad when I can choose what makes me happy.’

‘What exactly makes a criminal like you happy?’ Astarion asks bitterly.

You’ve always been possessed by a sense of otherness. You rise from the couch and carefully twist your fingers in his cravat, tangling yourself in him as he has become entangled in you. The Silverymoon lace tickles your skin. You pull Astarion closer and he begrudgingly caves to your strength. Your lips barely brush against his and already you can sense it. The barely contained restraint. The hunger. Astarion longs for you. He’s carefully hidden it beneath the scent of bergamot.

Slowly, you slide him free of what pressures him most. The cravat slides from his neck easily. It excites Astarion. His eyes glitter like you’ve never seen before. Being a magistrate isn’t about caring about the laws he’s vowed to uphold. It’s about power. You give it to him. You hold your wrists together with a wicked grin.

You balance the fabric on your fingers. Astarion swallows. Being proper isn’t really his thing. It’s thrilling to watch as he changes his mind. You annoy him — he detests you, wishes you gone. You are the object of all his improper late night dreams.

But as if he’s moving through water, he takes his cravat from your hands. You almost think it’s going to be a rejection. Astarion bundles your wrists together with an expertise that suggests he’s done it before. The binding becomes tight but not too tight and you relish in the way it twists your wrists. He fastens the knot into a pretty bow.

And then he kisses you. He grabs you so roughly by the back of the neck that your teeth slam together, but Astarion sighs so prettily against your mouth you decide you could withstand anything.

It’s a passionate kiss made up of teeth and spit and tongue. Astarion is both pushing you and pulling you. He can’t make up his mind. Does he want you and the stain you’ll bring to his reputation? A magistrate with a weakness for a criminal is such an interesting dynamic, but Astarion is a proud man. You are almost certain he would throw you into harm’s way if a situation ever occurred that deemed it necessary. You would do the same given the chance. This is simply a tryst.

You like to pretend it is, at least. You hate coming across as a romantic. You chase a freedom so exquisite no one will ever understand it, but when Astarion pushes you towards the couch, you don’t complain. You fall across the cushions with ease and catch him as he falls between your thighs.

‘You,’ Astarion accuses hotly, ‘are an irrevocable annoyance I may never be cured of.’

‘You are so very frank in all the ways you despise me,’ you say, moaning softly as he kisses your neck. ‘I think you’re capable of being freed after all.’

‘I am glad to see you are finally aware that it is hate that drives me,’ Astarion murmurs thickly. ‘It repulses me that you think you could possibly be endearing.’

You laugh and Astarion sucks a bruise into your collarbone. He’ll pretend to be aloof and noncommittal to your very presence, but he’s invested. You can feel the weight of his pleasure against your thighs even as he denies his feelings for you. Astarion doesn’t bother with your shirt or his own. He clings to your waist as he finds the lace of your breeches and tugs you free.

Astarion pushes his hand inside of your smallclothes and touches your flushed skin, spreading his fingers so that he can touch every inch your body has to offer. The fervor of the motion is what causes you to gasp. He’s a man on a mission, and he touches you at your core so adoringly it makes the bite of his words all but disappear. He fondles you like he’s never touched your skin before. Your gasp turns to a sultry whine, and he bites your neck like a punishment. You almost think he’s going to admonish you, that he’ll say your silence is worth more. He doesn’t. If anything, the echo of your voice spurns him to go further.

Astarion presses two fingers inside of you and the laughter dies in your chest. He’s trying to rearrange you through a perverse method. If he fucks you good enough, crime’s appeal will turn to dust within your mind. It makes you wonder what it would be like to dote on a magistrate. Would it be enough? Could it be enough? Sinning feels just as sweet.

He curls his fingers against your core and your back arches prettily off the velvet cushions. You bite your bottom lip and try to quell the pining, but then you catch a glimpse of him from beneath your eyelashes. Astarion is watching your every move. His lips are parted. His pupils are dilated. His cheeks have colored at the sound of your voice. He is torn between watching your face for your reactions and glancing down at his hand underneath your breeches. You meet his gaze bravely, chin lifting, and smile.

He adds another just to watch you struggle. The angle, the curve of his wrist, and the situation are enough to make your thighs squeeze together, but Astarion doesn’t let you. He roughly throws himself between your legs so that you can’t, and it’s hot, too hot that you cry weakly. He grins at the sound like he always does, like he always will. It’s his victory this evening.

But as quickly as Astarion deigned to touch you, he releases you. He stands up and drags you by the wrists, turning his cheek the other way when you try to taste his skin.

‘The prosecutor is ineffectual — ’

You snort without meaning to, and Astarion digs his fingers into the swell of your hip. You allow him to maneuver you, bending at the waist while he presses you forward, chest against the chilled wood of his desk. You have to rise on your toes to stand comfortably.

‘Is that what you’re thinking about?’ you ask breathlessly.

‘I’m thinking about the necessary reform,’ Astarion snaps.

You press your cheek into the wood and stare at his door. The prosecutor, the defense. It doesn’t really matter, does it? Astarion is the only one who cares. You’re somewhat glad he does. It means he’s taken your case to interest, and when he presses himself to your lower back, you’re excited. He shoves your breeches to your ankles.

‘Are you going to take me here?’ you murmur. ‘On your desk. Where is your propriety?’

‘You dare speak to me of decency?’ Astarion snorts.

‘The weight of my sins will be forever embedded on your desk,’ you say. ‘You flatter me, your honor.’

‘Do you ever stop talking?’ Astarion asks. You can hear his patience snapping.

‘Well, you’re just so boring,’ you say, laughing. ‘Why don’t you do something that — ’

Astarion kneels down behind you and shoves his way between your legs. You shiver when he presses his lips against your core. He mouths at you hungrily. He grunts low in the back of his throat and digs his nails into your thighs. It steals your breath away. He’s so determined to change the very essence of your being that his tongue and mouth searching where his fingers first were makes you go weak in the knees. You whine.

You press your fingers into the dark, rich mahogany of his desk and try to keep focus. You want to taunt him. You want to tease him, but that wanton desire is almost forgotten entirely by the way Astarion feasts upon your flesh. He parts you with his thumbs and groans against your skin and you almost forget who you are. This is what he wanted. He wanted to pull your desires from you and replace them with his own.

You let him. He works you up as easily as anyone can be worked up, his fingers and his mouth exploring every inch of your skin that’s exposed. He goes to slide a finger in curiously, but you twist your hips away. Astarion is all work and no play. He will tease you relentlessly as it suits him, and he will do what interests him. You interest him more than he’s willing to confess. That’s why he works so hard for your pleasure.

When he’s done with you, he kisses the base of your spine soothingly. Your legs tremble beneath you. Astarion smooths his hand across your hip. You glance at him.

‘Perhaps I can fuck some sense into you now,’ Astarion mumbles.

He has the audacity to sound inquisitive. It’s not like it’s possible, but he seems determined enough to try it out regardless of his intuition. His hands are warm against your skin, and the excitement only builds in the pit of your stomach as you feel Astarion’s skin touch yours. You hear his clothes rustle and his breath catch in his throat. You hide a smile against your arm.

When Astarion slides into your core, it’s like a possession. The breath steals from your lungs. His touch is a familiar constant — you would recognize him anywhere by scent alone. You cry weakly. Your toes crunch from the angle, but there’s nothing you want more at this moment than to learn to be good.

Astarion hums behind you as well, his fingers digging into your hips as he tries to steady himself. The desk crunches uncomfortably against your belly but it’s a welcome pain. It keeps you focused. You still have the energy to wiggle back against him as his cock slowly pushes in until there is no more room left to explore.

‘Be good,’ he whispers, ‘and I will give you what you deserve.’

What do you deserve exactly?

It’s hard to say. You enjoy your life of crime almost as much as you love the way Astarion bends you over his desk. You’re good at stealing, you’re good at killing, but you’re good at being soft and pliant as well, giving in to that sentimentality that keeps you coming back from more.

At first it was an elaborate game. What could you do to ensure that Magistrate Judge Astarion Ancunin looked your way? He was a noble elf, and your hands were covered in fresh dough from the baker you stole from. There was a curious glint in his eyes when he looked over you, yet somehow the gods had deemed the yeast and honey on your fingers was not honest enough to be proof.

You are smitten. You bounce taller on your toes with every aggressive thrust, arms struggling to support your weight. Astarion fists his fingers into your hair and pulls until your throat is exposed. He wants you to sing for him, so you do. You arch your back and moan loudly. The sounds of it bounce around his little office.

‘You wouldn’t shut up before,’ Astarion says breathlessly, a hoarse laugh.

‘Do something — worth talking about — ’

Astarions laughs incredulously, but he does fuck you harder for it. He releases your hair without much flourish and focuses on dragging your hips back onto his cock, punching forward so hard you see stars. It’s wonderful, it’s powerful. If Astarion’s entire goal was to make you forsake the world, he’s done a good job of turning your life around. The cravat rubs against your wrists as you try to seek purchase on the desk. Your fingers drag across the polished wood, and you shudder as you clench down around his cock.

You sound so breathless and silly, groaning while he fucks you against his desk. He fills you full until you’re certain you can take no more. You press a hot cheek against the wood and try to catch your breath. You hook a foot around his ankle for support, twisting on his desk. You tuck your arms beneath your chest. You feel as though you’re coming undone. All your years of villainy, and it comes undone by the consistency of Astarion’s presence.

Your arms are stiff from constantly being up, but you’re almost grateful when Astarion pauses. He helps you turn on top of his desk so you’re on your back instead, and even though the edge digs into your lower back, you prefer that to anything else.

You meet Astarion’s gaze. He tells you he hates you, that he wishes you were out of his hair, that he despises you, but the gentleness of his eyes tells you otherwise. He slides back into you with a small moan, and you wrap your legs around his hips to guide him in further.

‘It’s good,’ you gasp. ‘It’s good, you’re good — ’

Astarion doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. You can see it clear as day in his eyes. Astarion won’t say he loves you, that in his ardent fervor he seeks you out, but he knows that you know. Why else would fate lead you back together? You reach for his face with your hands, and his eyes flutter closed to avoid the wistfulness. He leans into your touch.

You cry softly as Astarion begins to grind into you again. He helps carry you as he does so. And it feels so good, feels so overwhelming that you briefly consider the fact that he has changed you for the better.

A spirit that slides into your very marrow. Astarion is hauntingly beautiful, and if he is a spider then you are a fly tangled in his web. He calls you a pretty thing and you give into the struggle. You press your wrists against your forehead and strain against his cock, unable to hide from the waves of crashing pleasure.

Astarion finishes inside of you with a low moan. He presses a rough hand against your belly to stabilize himself, and shyly, you touch his wrist with your bound hands just to feel his pulse. As soon as he’s caught his breath, he releases you from your bonds.

You almost miss him when he pulls away from you. He uses one of his hanging cassocks to clean himself with and is kind enough to do the same for you. You’re almost certain that your legs won’t work, so you sit up on his desk to rest and damn his paperwork to the hells. You kick off your breeches from around your ankles and sit, legs crossed, while Astarion tries to fix his reflection in the mirror.

‘You are truly an astute teacher,’ you say casually. ‘The art of lockpicking is all but gone from my mind. Thank you, your honor.’

Astarion snorts and shakes his head, torn between ignoring you and giving into your wiles. He curls his hair back into place and then walks back to you, leaning forward until you’re nose to nose.

You think he won’t kiss you, but then he does. His lips taste like summer oranges and you taste him until it’s the only thing you can think of. He hugs you tenderly. It isn’t the same as when he admonishes you. It makes your chest feel warm. You almost feel weaker for it. Your bite is being taken away.

‘I can’t keep protecting you,’ Astarion says softly against your cheek. ‘You torment me day and night. When I lie down in my sheets, I find myself consumed with worry.’

‘You think about me?’ you tease. ‘In your sprawling manse?’

‘Move in with me,’ he murmurs. ‘Then you can be inferior yet vain inside my sprawling manse.’

Astarion is not there that evening. You try to wait as long as you can without seeming suspicious. There are maids, family members, and their admirers who come inside and out throughout the evening — but not Astarion, never Astarion. You wait until the sun sets and fireflies light up the streets of the Upper City but eventually, the malaise of abandonment guides your feet away. You walk the streets aimlessly until a shiver runs down your spine. A chill so violent turns you away from the courthouse.

But in the morning, there’s a fuss. It draws you back into where you left and you can’t help but to lose yourself. Astarion is dead. His mother sobs. The members of the city watch who bear the bad news look equally as morose. Astarin’s father nearly falls to his knees in despair.

When you break into their manse that evening, you look for one thing. You steal a cravat from his wardrobe and tie it around your neck.

Then, you leave Baldur’s Gate.

You aren’t sure where your feet are going to take you.

Part of your yearns for the Underdark. Baldur’s Gate is a cursed city, you decide. You wander back to it after two hundred years of avoiding it like the plague, and not an hour within the city are you spirited away on an adventure you never longed for.

You have changed. You can’t really remember who you were all those years ago, or the hopefulness you might have felt in your chest once. You’re different now. A folk hero. You used to steal from the rich and give to the poor before the mindflayers fed you their parasite and stole that part of you. But you aren’t alone this time. You wander the beach for hours searching for anything that can be of use and pause over a love letter that makes you sob.

It isn’t all bad. You meet a half-elf who scowls as much as she mumbles to herself.

On the other side of the beach, you meet a ghost.

His eyes are different from what you remember. The warmth he once looked upon you with is gone and replaced by unfamiliar sanguine.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x oc #astarion smut #bg3 smut #from ，carcosa .#my fic #hyliandreso #you know i hit the prompt square on & then threw in a plot twist #is it really a carcosa fic if there isn't a plot twist somewhere #* say what you want，even if it's bad

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manifestingbabe7777 · 1 year ago

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Manifest with me

#abundance #dream life #manifestation #manifesting #wealth #get your ex back #law of assumption #law of attraction #money #manifesation #money manifestation #money mindset #make money fast #money magnet #get motivated #wealthy #liveblogging #manifest love #life goals

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keyotosprompts · 10 months ago

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not easy to please ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

alternatives to popular tropes

⇴ siblings's worst enemy

they're your sibling's enemy, so of course they're yours too. they're despicable and you seriously want them dead. luckily for you, the feeling's mutual.

⇴ struggling ceo and their know-it-all office worker

how did this mf become the ceo of one of the most progressive countries in the world?? they're clueless and you're the one that has to fix all their mistakes. you seriously don't get paid enough for this (unless they can come up with another way to pay you).

⇴ marriage of inconvenience

what happens in vegas stays in vegas. except when you've signed an official marriage contract, and everything is so much more complicated before. now this person is stuck with you until you can divorce! (or will you?)

⇴ forbidden hate

your parents absolutely adore the idea of the two of you together. they have wedding pinterest boards, future plans, and baby names for the two of you. only one thing: you two kinda hate each other, and hell would have to freeze over before you'd ever get with them.

⇴ no more second chances

sorry dude! f'ed up really bad the first time, and now you're not giving anymore chances, and your ex has to deal with the consequences. one problem: they can't deal with the consequences bc they're literally in love with you. hm. just what will this person do to get you back?

⇴ not so secret identity

everyone knows who they are. not even the old mask and hat trick could prevent people from identifying them. and it's fine–they absolutely bask in the fame. one problem though: they're a constant target to the entire world. perfect!

⇴ separated from each other

they never get any alone time. alone together in an elevator? too bad, a party of ten just showed up, pushing the two of you on the opposite side of the elevator. finally alone at home? nope! unfortunately, your friends make a surprise visit! oh how will you two ever get past this?

⇴ "you deserved it."

a normal person would've asked "who did this to you?" except your bond is not normal. not in the slightest. i mean seriously, what does this person want from you?

⇴ "i can't have you, so i'll let someone else take my place."

they know that they're not good enough for you, and that you deserve someone better than them. so, they choose to let you go, and hope that someone else can make your world light up like they used to

⇴ the one that is still here

everywhere you go, this person is there. whether it's physically, mentally, or spiritually, everything ties back to them. everything reminds you of them. you couldn't even escape if you tried.

⇴ playboy but he's actually a nerd that cannot get play

he's gorgeous–he's the most attractive man you think you've ever seen in your life. you think he's probably got it all–girls or boys coming up to him nonstop. only, that's not true in the slightest. somehow, he's managed to fumble every single time.

⇴ nobody wants the bad boy

he's troubled. there are rumors of him starting fights 24/7, and he lives in a bad area. he could really fuck someone up. nobody wants him.

⇴ "you must be delusional"

lovers that know that they're in love with each other, but when admitting it to their friends, they shut down their feelings.

⇴ loving someone to save them

none of that breaking up nonsense. love is power. their love and support causes you to be stronger than ever. knowing that there's love out there gives you a reason to keep on going. love saves you.

⇴ too smart to live

you've outdone yourself this time. bypassed every guard, rule, and law without anyone catching you. so, of course, there's only one solution here: to eliminate you.

⇴ different worlds (revised)

you grew up poor while they grew up rich. now, in the present, you are the more successful one, while they are struggling to get their life together. now, you must help the one who used to be in your current position, and fix things together.

⇴ one-sided blind date

rule one of having a blind date: you should not know who you're meeting. well, too late! you sneaked a peek at your friend's phone and found out who you'll be seeing soon. now, you're scrambling to get out of this date because you know exactly who it is.

#keyotosprompts #fluff prompts ⋆˚✿˖°#writeblr #writing #writing prompts #otp prompts #otp writing #imagine your otp #creative writing #writing inspiration #writers on tumblr #writing prompt #writerscommunity #creative inspiration #writer stuff #tropes #character dynamics #about writing

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strongheartneteyam · 1 year ago

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Late night fun.

pairing: human!neteyam x female!reader

cw: fluff, established relationship, oral sex (female & male receiving), dirty talk, netflix and chill (lol), grinding, snuggling for warmth "trope", use of "babygirl" and "princess", hair pulling, dominant neteyam/sub reader, use of "daddy", use of "slut", possessive neteyam, slight degradation, praising kink, slut-for-neteyam-reader

Synopsis: It was supposed to be just a cozy winter night where you would chill in bed with your boyfriend while watching TV... but when it came to you and Neteyam alone in a room for too long, it was never just cuddles. The magnetic force that was the attraction that burned between the both of you was far too strong.

I've been wanting to write something for human neteyam for ages and I guess this is my first attempt lol hope my dear readers like it <3

Not proofread. The heat is cooking my brain 🧠 🔥 sorry babies, mama promises to do it soon lol

⋆

The night was cold and there was a sitcom playing on the big TV on Neteyam's bedroom. You snuggled closer to your boyfriend's chest, trying to get some warmth out of his soft black hoodie and his own body heat.

Neteyam chuckled at your smaller body holding onto his - he was 6'1, so, it was not hard for a girl to look short compared to his tall, broad body - and said "You cold, babygirl?" His voice was a bit hoarse and you had always found it to be the sexiest thing ever, even before you two started dating. Neteyam wrapped his strong, long arm around you, pulling you even closer.

"Mmhmm... You're so warm and comfy. I love it." your words were tender and needy. You let out a relaxed sigh.

"You're cute, baby." He pressed his lips softly on your forehead, making you feel protected.

After cuddling with Neteyam for a while, you started feeling a big bulge under his jeans.

"Teyam, you're hard?" A mischievous chuckle left your lips

"Don't blame me. It's impossible not to get turned on with these delicious fleshy thighs wrapped around my hips." He tried to defend himself and you could only keep laughing, though you tried to keep your voice down not to wake his family up. God knows Jake was a strict ex marine dad and Neytiri was short tempered. They were the best parents in law to you, despite that.

"Want me to help you out with that?" Your dirty suggestion comes with a pair of lustful eyes directed at Neteyam's gorgeous face. His sharp jaw looked sexier than ever that night. Or maybe you were just turned on by the feeling of his hard cock against your soft thigh.

Neteyam answered you by swiftly placing you on top of him. You were now straddling his large lap and you couldn't help but grind against his erection.

"Keep doing that and I'll use your little mouth to make me cum before I fuck your tight pussy." Neteyam warned, his voice husky. Your teasing ways always drove him crazy with desire.

You smiled at him.

"You know I don't mind if you do that." Your lips kissed his warm neck and you were drowning in the natural, cozy scent of Neteyam's skin.

Before you could notice, Neteyam grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled your head back, forcing you to look at him.

"Adress me right, then." Your breath was slightly labored and at this point your panties were utterly soaked.

"Daddy?" You tried

"That's right" Neteyam grinned, cocky. He loved it when you were good for him. "My obedient little slut."

"All yours, Daddy. Just yours." You mewled, eager to suck his cock. It was just like you could taste him already.

"Only mine." He reinforced your previous statement "Get off me for a while, princess." You immediately obeyed. You loved being his fucktoy.

Neteyam got on his knees and took his hoodie off, followed by his white shirt and then his light blue jeans. His clothes were now on the floor and your mouth almost watered at the sight of his large, girthy cock, all out to see. God, why was his cock so big and so pretty? Is that weird to think a guy's cock is pretty? Not that you actually cared about that at that moment. The only thing you truly cared about was tasting that little bead of pre cum on the slit of his swollen tip.

"Come." Neteyam ordered and you did as he said.

You got closer to him and he rapidly took your black buttoned up shirt off, revealing part of your body to him.

"You're so fucking hot. So fucking perfect for me." Neteyam praised you, winning a shy but joyful smile from your rosy lips."Now, wrap these pretty lips around Daddy's cock."

You lowered yourself, face right next to his hard member, your ass up in the air. Neteyam roughly grabbed one of your butt cheeks, squeezing the soft flesh hard, getting a somehow sadistic delight from that action.

Your mouth was now filled with his cock, his girth making it hard to fit it all in but you did your best to please him. Neteyam breathed in with pleasure while he looked down at you with half lidded eyes.

"Feels good" he murmured, captivated by the way your soft, warm tongue felt on his length. Your head made up and down movements swiftly and you looked up at him, eyes full of submission and devotion.

Neteyam grabbed the back of your head and gently pushed you away from his cock. You licked your lips, his strong taste lingering in your tastebuds. You kissed his toned but soft torso, licking his skin too. You wanted all of him, you needed all of him.

"Put your tongue out for Daddy." Not a second later, your tongue was already out as you waited for what was to come.

Neteyam grabbed his cock and put his girthy, swollen tip on your wet tongue, making tapping motions over and over again at a rapid pace, making you feel like a dirty slut but you loved to feel like that for him and only for him. Tasting his salty, musky pre cum on your mouth made you feel something so unique and you were just utterly addicted to it.

He watched you, full of himself, seeing how much you loved tasting his juices.

"Now it's my turn to taste you." Neteyam stated

"But I'm not done yet..." You protested with a whiny face

"I love how greedy you are for my cock, princess, but I wanna make you feel good too, hmm?" Neteyam buried his long fingers on your soft hair, holding your head in a slight move of soft but effective dominance

"'Kay..." You looked a bit defeated

Your response was followed by a chuckle coming from Neteyam.

"Don't act like you don't like it. Don't be a little brat."

"That's not it. You know I love it when you eat me out, Daddy." You gave him a lewd smile

"Then open these legs for me." Neteyam's large hand touched your inner thigh, caressing the sensitive skin slowly.

Now you wanted to feel his tongue on your core more than anything in the world. You laid back at the comfortable mattress, in the sheets that smelled just like Neteyam and watched as he slid your white panties down your legs.

Neteyam hiked up your skirt, leaving your pussy out to see. He opened your legs and stared at your glistening folds, coated with your juices. Your boyfriend was now licking your pussy from the bottom until your clit. When his warm tongue reached your sensitive nub, you let out a cry of pleasure.

"Just don't be too loud so we don't wake my family up, okay, babygirl?" He smiled at you, lips shining with your juices all over them. That was so dirty and so fucking sexy.

You moved your head back and fourth, telling him you understood, desperate for him to continue what he was doing before.

Neteyam started suckling on your clit and your mouth fell open with the wave of pleasure that came over you. Your hips started moving while you pushed your wet cunt against his mouth. You could feel his nose rubbing against your clitoris now, as he was licking you deep, gathering your juices with his tongue and swallowing them, savoring his babygirl's taste. You tasted like Heaven to Neteyam.

You held onto his thin, silky braids while Neteyam feasted on your sticky cunt, eating you out so eagerly you felt like the hottest girl alive. He looked up to you, his hazel eyes so enticing, almost like he was trying to tell you through his piercing gaze how much he loved eating your pussy. Neteyam sneaked one of his hands under your bra, cupping one of your boobs while he kept licking you. All the things he was doing to you were so good that you had to put both your hands over your mouth to try and muffle the way you were moaning intensely. Your legs were starting to tremble now.

⋆

Taglist:

@yeosxxx

@criticallybella

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sitp-recs · 3 months ago

Note

currently reading a hpdm war fic where draco is absolutely useless. and i cant have that. so. do you perhaps have any recs for magically powerful draco? not necessarily powerful, but yknow. useful. 😭. thank you so much

I most certainly have, anon! Love me a competent and useful Draco 🤌🏼 I hope you enjoy these, I also have a spy!Draco list that might fit your request.

The Slytherin Urn by ICMezzo (E, 4.6k)

Nothing turns Harry on quite like redemption.

Wield Me by tackytiger (E, 10k)

Draco Malfoy, blacksmith, is renowned through the magical world for his skill and exquisite creations. He could quite easily spend the rest of his days making pretty trinkets for the fae court, and being handsomely rewarded for the privilege.

Sex on Legs in Six-Inch Heels by Tessa Crowley (E, 10k)

Draco Malfoy is a brilliant freelance cursebreaker and the only one who can help the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with a very dangerous case, but more importantly, he's wearing six-inch heels, and Harry cannot handle it, he really just can't.

This Unexpected Windfall by mindabbles (E, 11k)

Harry doesn’t like it when Draco is called in to work one of his cases. No. He doesn’t like it at all — at least that’s what he tells himself.

Yours Truly by skeptique (M, 15k)

Every single one of Harry’s exes has gone on to marry the next person they date, and with the upcoming nuptials of numbers six and seven to each other, Harry’s feeling exhausted by it all.

Countdown by dysonrules (M, 15k)

When the Wizarding world is plagued by random outbreaks of Dark Magic, the Ministry assigns Curse-Breakers to assist Auror teams on their missions. Harry shouldn't be surprised when Draco Malfoy is assigned to his team, but is Malfoy a Curse-Breaker, or a curse-bringer?

The Pain From an Old Wound, anon (T, 30k)

Getting hit with a mysterious blood curse is all in a day’s work for Harry Potter. Having to work with his former colleague, rival, bully, and boyfriend, is not. Harry’s not sure which is going to do him in first: the curse sucking his magic dry, or Draco Malfoy, as frustrating, condescending, and painfully attractive as he’s always been.

measures of our days and nights by flimsy (E, 40k)

Draco returns to London to help the Ministry decipher a spell, but things aren’t quite as simple as they seem.

Heal Thyself by astolat (T, 47k)

"Are you going for the course?" Lovegood asked. "You have the NEWTs.” “What course?” Draco said, then, “No, don’t be ridiculous,” when he realized she meant the notice pinned up on the board he’d been staring at: Applicants To The Introductory Mediwizard Course For The Coming Term Shall Present Themselves In The Chief Mediwizard’s Office By August 24th.

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice by lettered (E, 54k)

Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Reparations by Saras_Girl (E, 87k)

Harry is about to discover that the steepest learning curve comes after Healer training, and that second chances can be found in unexpected places.

Any Instrument by dicta_contrion (E, 131k)

Draco Malfoy wouldn't go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can't control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

#asks #anon #drarry reclist #competent & useful Draco

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isabeauwolf · 16 days ago

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Queen Reader x Courtesan Overhaul

Part 1 - In Chains

(fanfic inspired by this mouthwatering fanart of Overhaul by @spectra-phantasma Thank you for your hard work, love! 🐦‍⬛💜💚)

News spread like wild fire last night.

Rumor has it that he was captured during his guilds disbanding and jumped, stolen from his home and his adoptive father, forced to watch his lands and properties were set ablaze by blue hell flames. The street rat who went from rags to riches and into a matter of a few hours was once again homeless, penniless and on the streets.

The proud, arrogant and confident young boss still stood tall, golden hues frosty, even when barely clothed and close to butt naked, in chains, leather and a quirk restraining collar.

He looks so pretty tied like that. You think with a coy smile on your lips. You had snuck out of the palace and made your way into the underground black market, more specially, the human slavery and trafficking district. Your only bodyguard, Eraser Head at your side. He was all you needed.

Even in chains, caged and bound, you could see it.

The fire in his molten amber gaze, as cold and hard as his low, monotone voice when he hissed, grumbled and cursed at the slave traders touching him and dragging him onto the stage as the next main attraction. The infamous Overhaul, the undergrounds "demon with no heart," the man with a godlike and alchemist level quirk, and apparently he had a Greek God's temper and body to match.

You wanted to break him. Make him into your fuck toy and your personal pretty courtesan.

Yes. You must have him, Kai Chisaki, Overhaul.

You always saw him in passing, in the crowds with his magenta and golden beaked plague mask covering the lower half of his face. Now, with the birdlike opened caged muzzle strapped to his face you could finally see all of him fully.

You bit your lip as arousal and excitement, the thrill of owning him and making him yours heated and coiled in your abdomen, making lust and desire pool between your thighs.

You are the Queen, what you want you get.

Eraser knows that look in your eyes. He'd seen it a thousand times when you found a pretty and unbroken toy you desperately wanted to play with. Watch it bend and break, fall for your charms, your body and cling onto your freely given love before getting bored and moving on to a new one.

Underneath his cloak, Eraser inwardly sighs. He knew there was no way of talking you out of this. His Mistress was stubborn, at least, she used her funds wisely unlike the previous Queen who loved to throw grand balls and parties nearly every two months on top of national holidays. When your mother died, you acted quickly with the help of All Might and Endeavor salvaged the kingdom's debt and crime lowered, you kept your citizens fed and taxes at a reasonable rate.

Of course, you knew crime was everywhere. Even during times of peace, other kingdoms waged wars, burned, pillaged, started a new and rebuilt. It's the law of the world, the game of thrones, the never ending darkness that plagued this world in a society where people were valued by their quirks than themselves individually.

Eraser's charcoal black orbs turned from your masked and cloaked covered figure and returned back to the stage. His highly trained eyes took in the other man's physique, the honed and refined hard muscle yet lean and agile, his shape and potential. Overhaul relied heavily on his quirk, but it was clear he still maintained and sharpened his body as well as his mind. The caged raven had hidden his body underneath his clothes to fool his enemies.

That alone made him earn a hint of respect. Plus, if his Queen was injured, he could have the ex-villain cure her with his alchemy and quirk, keep him as a bodyguard and shield... adding him as their Queen's lover would bind him to her.

Eraser and Hawks would still keep watch in the shadows until Overhaul full gained their trust. If the ex-criminal refused their Queen's more than generous offer, then they would make his life into a living hell. He scanned the place once more, arms crossed and leaning against the stone wall, he needed to remain alert and ready should someone recognized them. So far, everyone's gazes and murmuring whispers were more focused solely on the man on stage.

The market was crowded, jam packed.

No doubt Overhaul's fellow captured allies and enemies were all watching with bated breath, wondering their boss' fate after being captured, humiliated, striped of his status, clothes and about to be sold, his fate sealed.

Nezu walked on stage and the room grew quiet.

"Ladies and Gentleman," The dog, rat, mouse, whited furred leader of the slave trade smiled brightly in delight to see another human suffer as he bit back his sadistic mirth and laughter. "It's a pleasure to welcome everyone tonight. I'm sure you are all here to see the fate of our beloved dangerous and highly respected raven on stage."

He waved his paw towards Overhaul and gave a bow of respect.

"As much as I've appreciated your past contributions Overhaul," Nezu hummed, closing his eye and shook his head. "I'm afraid my hands are tied as The League have already sold you to me." A string of evil giggles slipped out, then he coughed and cleared his throat, his mask of professionalism returning and sighed dramatically. "But alas, I've decided from the goodness of my heart to offer those gathered tonight to become your new Master or Mistress." His black, beady eyes darkened as Overhaul's own golden hues returned to the traders gaze with a challenging glare.

Lesser slaves and weak willed citizens shivered in the crowd.

Nezu's cheery tone returned as he faced the audience. "Let's begin the price of a generous 10,000 gold, shall we?" His mask cracked as he threw his head back and cackled loudly, unhinged and barking laughter; clearly amused by many of the human's faces pale and jaw's drop.

Did the half mad sneaky little rat truly start the bid with the price he bought Overhaul for? Of course, he did.

The bids were starting.

It kept climbing higher and higher until only a few nobility were remaining to stake their claim on such a prized, caged and handsome bird.

You noticed a familiar greedy old hag a few rows across from you. You'd recognized that long, thick, spiky, dark purple hair anywhere.

Your eyes immediately narrowed, Nemuri Kayama, Midnight. The Mistress of The Underground Pleasure District and local Brothels, or "Streets of Heaven and Sin" which is widely know, even in the Capital. The purple haired and blue eyed woman was a decade your senior, she might have once been your best friend and found sister, but not anymore. No, not since you become Queen and she became her families head Mistress.

Midnight flaunted her beauty, charming both men and woman around her red-painted manicured and painted nails. Her black dress was skin tight and accentuated her voluptuous figure as she kept her arms uncovered in case she needed to use her quirk on misbehaving clients, citizens, enemies, workers and slaves.

As if feeling your gaze on her, Midnight half turned. Her blue eyes meeting yours, twinkling with mirth and amusement underneath her red mask. Fully facing you before making a beeline towards you as her hoard of lackeys, chained boy toys and workers followed their mistress on chained and leather leaches, attached to her wrist. Each of the poor bastards were each wearing a metal cock ring underneath their robes, whimpering moans, muffled groans and needy whines escaped their mouths in one shape or form.

She let go of the leach to her assistant, a newbie in training, if you had to guess. The poor redheads shy woman must have had some promises and potential, if Midnight handpicked her for the job as her assistant to take over in one of her many brothels. Her red hair, green eyes and luscious curves made her stand out and beautiful, you can admit that.

"Well, well, it's rare to you see coming down from your high tower, your majesty." Midnight purred, tilting her head and holding her riding crop underneath her chin. "See something you like pet?"

Your smile strained and your jaw twitched. "Good evening, Midnight. How's business?"

Eraser inwardly sighed, great. Midnight had a habit of riling you up and teasing you out of sisterly affection, a little too hard. Borderline, nearly pouncing on you after she riles her own-self. He swears if Mic here - No, oh second, thought, don't think about that overly loud, yellow cockatiel.

He noticed that the remaining bidders were you and Midnight, the two most riches and powerful women in the kingdom.

Nezu's waited, a purple and blue aura surrounding him. "Ladies, would you like to continue a higher bidding?" He knew who you were. You couldn't fool him. He knew your scent and settle traits.

He turned to Midnight, "Midnight?"

"He's such a handsome and pretty delicious birdman, isn't he?" Midnight smirked, hand on her hip and staring directly at Overhaul, who sneered at her, his clear distaste and disgust visible through the muzzle.

Oh dear, he doesn't seem to like her.

It's impressive, even while bound and chained, disgraced, he still looked his nose down at Midnight.

She turned towards you, practically gushing and wiggling with excitement and arousal, unashamed as she bit her lower lip and squealed loudly. "Oh, darling. The harder they resist the sweeter it is to break them!" Midnight knew your secret, your obsession and infatuation with Overhaul, the ex-criminal.

Strutting towards you with a confidant sway of her hips as her breasts moving against her thin gown, leather, chains and jewelry. Pulling out her black feathered fan to cover her mouth, leaning towards you and whispered, "Do you truly want him, my sister?" She purred with a seductive drawl, cheeks heated and sky blue eyes sparkling.

You narrowed your eyes, talking through clenched teeth. "What do you want, Midnight?" You bit out. "You usually aren't so generous and willing to give a handsome man away without a reason."

Midnight shrugged and giggled, padding you on the back and pulling you into her side. "Now, now, don't get upset, Y/n." She pouted and scolded lightly in a motherly voice.

You felt her breasts squishing against yours and you inwardly groaned, yet, your irritation and aggravation bled though, "Gods above and the afterlife, what do you want, Nemuri?"

Midnight released another loudly, girly squeal as she pressed her cheek into yours. "Oh, Y/n, please, please, let me borrow Eraser for a weekend, please, please, please!" She practically begged, swaying you back and forth, literally begging.

Eraser's eyes widened and he shook his head no. A huge noticeable blush on his face. He loved getting kinky in the bedroom, but Midnight could be, well - a bit too extreme. Her dominate and sadistic side was sexy, hell, he matched her freak, but other than sex and being old friends, they hardly saw each other.

It made things more awkward.

Rolling your eyes, this time, you sighed. "What do you need him for?"

"I need him to keep me company for a trip to the Capital!" Midnight let go of you and leaned back, pressing her hands against her cheeks and practically bouncing. "It's a long trip and I need new clothes, potions, equipment, and a little of this, and a little of that -" The innuendos weren't lost to you. You've been to her pleasure dungeon, or "play room" as she calls it. It's actually quite impressive.

You cut her off, keeping your voice firm and quiet, "Only, if you don't overly drain him and wear him out again, Nemuri... I need him for work." You press, hand on your hip.

As Nemuri opened her mouth, the tiny mouse, bear, dog, thing interrupted.

Nezu's voice raised calling for both women's attention. "Will there be another offer ladies?" He asks, tone dark and sweet with an undertone of impatience. "Midnight?" His black beady eyes stares to Nemuri, then to you. "Mysterious Stranger?"

Overhaul's stood there, looking bored. His hands were tied behind his back, wearing this ridiculous open and mocking birdcage covering his face, he was bound in leather and chains, and only given a loin cloth to cover his groin, but his ass was out.

This whole unfortunate situation was downright humiliating and degrading, damaging his pride. He didn't care which one of those woman wanted him, he wanted a bath, he was hungry, the nights chill made him cold, he's tired and wanted to sleep.

Get on with it. He inwardly groans, hands clenching behind his back.

Despite his irritation and drowsiness, a hint of curiosity was drawn to the mysterious stranger. He didn't know why he should care. And yet... something about your voice sounded familiar? It escaped him. Making him more inwardly frustrated with himself. It sounded soft, seductive, comforting and dare he say angelic?

Overhaul's gaze flickered to matriarch of The Undergrounds Pleasure District, Nemuri Kayama, Midnight. He openly sneered in disgust, turning his nose up, no doubt the woman was filthy as her high paid and lower class whores she governs. Many times his clients and sponsors wanted to meet in one of her pleasure houses, talk, drink their fill, and then go fuck their desired hole for the night. They would offer to pay for his drink or choice of pleasure, but he would refuse.

He didn't care, if the men or woman were checked every month by the best doctors or nurse in the city, Recovery Girl or not, he wasn't going to touch them with a ten foot pole.

He didn't care, if the eight bragged or fought about who gave the best head, had the best pair of tits, ass or pussy in each of that Harlot's establishments. He wasn't going to set foot in any of those back rooms any further than he had to, or participate in the weekly orgies, even if Hari or Pops paid for it, or gave their recommendations for a partner.

No. There was only one woman Kai wanted, but could never have. Despite his lands, titles and wealth; he was still considered lesser born to be with her. The only stunning creature whose beauty, wit and charm had wormed its way into his heart.

The Queen of this country, Y/n L/n. Otherwise, know as Y/n the Fair. Compared to her nitwit and foolish mother, their previous Queen, you had shown promise. Using your power and influence to make this kingdom prosperous, flourish and thought of your people first.

Truly like an angel in this diseased ridden, rat infested, dark, unfair and cruel world. If Kai had to become a villain, forsake his old name, his humanity, his past to become a demon in-order to cure this plague known as quirks, obtain enough power and wealth that his statue wouldn't matter for a change to try and court you.

It was selfish to wish it, I know that. Overhaul blinked as he shook his head as he inwardly sighed. He was pulled back to the present as he heard Nezu's voice grind in his ears.

"With Midnight forfeiting, Overhaul," That sneaky little rodent chuckled darkly. "Or should I say Ex Yakuza Boss. You now belongs to our mysterious stranger." He snickered, grinning wide and unhinged. "Come up and claim your prize my dear."

Overhaul's golden hues narrowed, Nezu knew something he wasn't sharing. It was pissing him off.

"If you are returned back to me Chisaki," Nezu met his burning and intense gaze with his own. "I fear Midnight will become your new Mistress." He let his words hang in the air and added, sounding smug. "So be a good little slave for your First Mistress won't you?"

That comment and detail made Overhaul's jaw clench and grind hard. "Watch it vermin. Those words may comeback to bite you someday pest." He growled, taking a deep breath through his nose as to calm down his temper.

"Prove me wrong, Chisaki and I will owe you money." Nezu sassed back, turning his gaze towards the Mysterious Woman and her cloaked companion. "Seems the old gods and the new have favored you this night, old friend."

Overhaul remained silent, watching as one of the black cloaked figures approached.

👑👑👑

You did it!

A high class caged bird with clipped and broken wings. Your birdy. Your plaything. Yours to use for your own pleasure. Yes, if he won't submit. You will have to bend him and whisper tempting words until he bowed down.

Wither he liked it or not. Your word was law. He was your property and you owned him now, his life was yours, and yours alone.

"Eraser," You chirped happily. "Escort him to the castle, make sure he's fully bathed, feed, fully dressed and waiting for me in my chambers tonight." You had to quickly remask your features and tone as to not overexcite yourself. "Have Giran dig into what happened to the rest of Overhaul's men and the Shie Hassaikai's leader." You lower your tone into a whisper, "Our birdy will want to know." You slipped the royal seal and plenty of gold into his hand, enough to feed a whole nation for months.

Eraser nodded and bowed his head. "As you wish, your majesty." Pocketing the items and headed towards the stage.

You were watching Overhaul from the shadows for a long time. You disapproved of him trying to use a little girl to fuel his goal of curing people of this plague known as quirks. You knew all to well witnessing first hand how deadly and uncontrollable a persons quirk could become, if the wrong person grew too greedy, too prideful, too arrogant and dared to challenge their Queen.

It's what cost your mother her life.

Call yourself hypocritical, you didn't care. Even after everything he's done, you sympathized with his cause and silently supported him from your throne on high, and now, you would snatch your raven in his hour of need.

You knew if that money grubbing leech at the brothel had her way, she'd sell the young man's body every night like a male prostitute, work him day and night, tirelessly until he's broken; diseased and could no longer work, being forced out onto the streets, begging for scarps until he either committed suicide or died in some rat infested back alley.

You had seen too many woman and men being treated as such time and time again. You'd be damned, if you let your birdman suffer any longer. True, your reasoning wasn't anything noble or any better, but at least, you know he would be safer with you than that old hag.

You sighed, watching as Eraser talked with the slave trader, who's eyes widened, filling with greed as he stared at the seal and leather pouch heavily pilled with gold. Your smile, grew into a smug smirk, you were victorious and if anything dared tried to steal him from you or outbid you, well, you will just have to send in Hawks.

Twirling on your heels, waving at Nezu as you went ahead of Eraserhead, lowering your hood on your cloak and made your way back towards the palace. I have to bathe and look presentable for him don't I? You paused as you entered the dark mouth of the alleyway, gaze following your prized birdman was being hauled off the stage, his displeasure, anger and defiant as he dragged by two Nomu's Nezu bought from The League. See you soon Kai, my pretty bird. You smile and giggle to yourself, strolling further and further away, knowing you two will reunite soon enough.

🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛

The young ex-yakuza was both intrigued and confused as to why he was being dragged towards the Queen's Castle?

He expected to be thrown into servitude as some lowly servant or chore boy, but instead Eraser dragged him towards a lavished, grand bathroom. The walls were white, the floor underneath his bare feet were craved out of limestone and marble, it shined in the candle light; the room smelled clean with lavished soaps and scented oils, it calmed down his nerves to an extent, but still kept his guard up as Kai turned meeting the man's tired charcoals. "Why bring me such lavished liberties and luxuries?" Narrowing his eyes, growing more suspicious and perplexed. What was he planning? There's no way Eraserhead saved him from the goodness of his heart.

Eraser sighed, rubbing his eyes and clicked his tongue. "I see that paranoia wasn't for show, Chisaki." Lowering his hand, making a twirling motion with his finger. "Now, turn around so I can get that caged muzzle and leather n' chains off of you and you can bath before eating dinner."

Kai's hand twitched behind his back, then clenched as his jaw did. Doing as he's told as he's reminded that with the quirk restraining collar around his neck, he's quirkless.

Eraser moved slowly towards Chisaki, studying him for any sign of running or attacking him. "Before you get any idea's on fighting me and escaping I don't have the key." He explains, proceeding to unbuckle the straps and chains. "Your new Mistress has the only key to your collar." He gave Hawks the key, flew back ahead of them and gave it to you. "Fight and disobey her and I'll make sure your life will be a living hell compared to what Midnight or Nezu would have done to you, understand?"

"Yes." Kai huffed, taking a deep breath to calm himself as he inwardly shuddered to remain still, phantom itches crawling against his skin.

Silent filled the room apart from the rattling of the chains and leather as the pair of stoic and rational men remained silent.

"There, I'll be outside." Eraser need back, holding Chisaki's bonds in his hand. "The maids already placed clothes and everything you need in the basket by the bath tube." He turned and began walking towards the bathroom door, pauses at the threshold, peaking over his shoulder. "Dinner will be in an hour. Don't make her wait, Chisaki. Our Mistress is many things, forgiving, generous, but unforgiving to anyone who crosses her."

Kai's body tensed. "I maybe an ex yakuza. I'm not a complete mongrel, Erasure." He bit out calmly, hint of ice in tone. "I still honor some of my houses traditions, mannerisms and chivalry, even if, Pops and I disagreed and clashed often."

Eraser knew it was childish, he couldn't help it. He still couldn't believe that you, his Mistress still wanted this Villain, this Monster of a man. Kai Chisaki should be grateful for your generosity, your mercy. He should be begging, kneeling at your feet like the worthless dog that he is.

Something in him snapped, "If you had kept your ungodly experiments and quirk away from that child, a young girl," He pressed, knowing the son of a bitch didn't regret his actions one bit. "Your own sire's granddaughter, then you wouldn't be here, Chisaki."

Eri? How had they known? Then again, he imagined word of his experiments, his groups disbanding, his capture and what The League had done to him had spread to even The Castle's staff, even you, The Queen. No doubt from her Master of Whispers, Giran. Kai inwardly scoffed.

Kai glanced over his shoulder. "Everyone should be grateful for my efforts in formulating a cure to return humanity back to normacy before quirks became a plague, a disease, spreading and infecting the world." He hissed, tearing off his loin cloth and storming towards the large in door bath. "Quirks will continue to grow powerful with each new generation." He explained, stopped at the edge of the bath, the scent of lemons and roses hitting his nose and filling his lungs. Who knew his favorite scents?

Kai shook his head as he continued, "I'm the only one willing to get my hands dirty. To do what needed to be done unlike those old, cowardly, senile fools."

Eraser grit his teeth, muttering underneath his breath. "Can't believe she's chosen a monster like you." Without another word, he closed the door.

Kai huffed, stepping into the water as the warmth soaked into his acing, dirty and tired body. He closed his eyes and sighed in content. Reopening his eyes and began bathing himself, scrubbing his body and hair clean, washing the smell of that big white rat and his workers filthy touches and those Chimeras or Nomu's The League created. Those creations both fascinated him and gave him the creeps, knowing The Legendary Demon Lord and his mad Doctor were creating them deep in the heart of The Underworld.

Kai was too busy growing his influence, trying to distribute his cure, raise more funding and juggling his responsibilities as his adoptive father's heir to feed his curiosity on The Nomus'. When those UA Hero Guild members busted down his door!

Lemillion and Deku destroyed the last two years of his research and resources, what he hadn't ordered stashed away was burned during the explosion in his laboratory; not to mention when Dabi set his castle and everything ablaze during his capture.

Kai's scar on the side of his forehead twitched and throbbing, his anger and frustration seething as his grip tightened on the side of the marble and hand carved tub. The marble digging into his hand before he let go with a frustrated growl, held his breath to dunk himself underneath the water, resurfacing and standing. Thousands of water droplets, falling down his body as he reached for a towel soft, fluffy purple towel to pat himself dry as he exited the bath.

Feeling refreshed, clean and somewhat calmer, Kai stalked slowly towards the basket Eraser mentioned. He blinked, eyes widened in surprise as he found a pair of his favorite black linen shirts, breeches, leather boots, face masks and white gloves. Now, he felt a hint of nerves crawling and twisting against his belly.

His heart thudded hard in his chest. It... it couldn't have been you, could it? Who had saved him? He told himself not to get too excited. What would you want with him? A criminal. Well, Ex-Criminal.

He had nothing to offer you. No lands, no money, no gifts, only himself. Kai swallowed thickly as his mouth grew dry, he'd near the whispers and rumors of your sexual and carnal appetite in your chambers. Releasing a shaky breath as he shivered, cheeks heating before he inhaled a deep breath, held it and exhaled, straightening his shoulders.

If the old gods and new were truly merciful as Nezu whispered into his ear about being bought and sold into your service, Kai needed to hold his head high. Nothing has changed.

His life's debt has been exchanged from Pop's to yours.

Yes, you were closer within his reach now, but you were royalty, a member of the nobility, one of the Gods most precious gifts to have been born into this cursed and cruel hearted world.

Kai dried himself, dressed, used the lotions, cologne, hair and tooth brush he'd been given, waiting for him on the bathroom counter.

His adoptive father's words rang in his head, A debt must always be repaid, Kai.

Hooking the cloth mask over his face as he frowned. He'll never see the old man again. That thought made his chest ache as his gloved hand gripped the counter. "Pops." He whispered his name, peaking at himself in the mirror. Same face, same sharp golden eyes, same image he saw everyday.

A knock on the door made his gaze flicker towards the door's mirrors image as Erasers voice called. "Chisaki, it's time."

Kai sighed and replied, raising his voice. "Yes."

"Good," he huffed, opening the bathroom door. "She's waiting."

Rechecking his appearance one last time, the ex yakuza twirled on his boot heels and headed towards Eraser as he led the way. Maids waiting outside, sneaking glances at him, whispering, gossiping and giggling, Kai paid them no mind. He was used to people staring at him.

Eraser clicked his tongue. "Quiet gawking and get back to work ladies." He glared at the woman who nodded their heads hurriedly, apologized and ended the bathroom.

Kai felt his lips curl upward underneath his mask in amusement. And they called me a tight ass in The Shie Hassaikai.

A blonde haired, red winged man approached in the opposite direction, hands shoved into his pockets and grinning from ear to ear, then widened as he came closer towards Eraser and Kai.

"Well, well," The man's playful, honey'd orbs studied the ex yakuza from head to toe, whistling. "Looks like the one winged caged bird cleans up nicely."

Hawks. The Queen's assassin and last line of defense should her other loyal guards and soldiers fall.

Whispers say he's Icurus reborn, or the child from The Greek God, Eros, a Demi God.

Kai narrows his eyes at Hawks.

The black haired head guard stopped, resulting in Kai stopping a few paces behind him. "Why are you still out this late Hawks?" Eraser asked.

Hawks' gaze shifted from Kai's to Erasers. "Nothin' much just returning from runnin' an errand from our beloved Queen." He didn't miss how the Ex-Criminals hands twitched or his gaze turned more frosty and chilling.

Eraser waver him away, proceeding forward. "Yes, yes, good night Hawks."

Hawks could help it. Couldn't keep his mouth shut as The once proud and arrogant, untouchable and powerful Overhaul passed him. "Be sure to be a good littl' pet for our Lady ya hear Overhaul." He snickered, saying his Villain name as if it was a joke.

Kai tensed, muscles straining against his shirt, hands white knuckled at his sides and his jaw clenched. Ignore him. Ignore him. He isn't worth it. He kept repeating to himself as he followed behind Eraser. That red feathered chicken isn't worth it.

Hawks chuckled, raising his hands, interlocking his fingers behind his head, chirping and yapping, "Whoops. Did I strike a nerve little birdy? Sorry. Sorry." His fake apologetic smile turned smug. "Hundreds of men would be crawling on their hands and knees naked to be where you are." He kept going. "Make 'er happy littl' raven."

Eraser twirled on his heels, grabbed his binding cloth as his quirk activated, charcoal eyes flickering blood red and his long hair rising. "That's enough Hawks! Get the fuck back to your post and watch your disrespectful mouth before I scrub your fowl mouth with soap myself."

Kai's ears were practically fuming in anger. He didn't give a flying fuck what the stalking, strutting, diseased red winged rat had to say about him, but disrespecting their Queen right in front of him? He won't stand for it.

It wasn't the first time, Kai had beaten the every loving daylight out of some leering, perverted, son of a bitch who dared make lewd and unsavory comments about you. He's heard worse in The Underground, Brothels or petty, lowlife scumbags mouths.

He was close to snapping had Eraser not stepped in. He supposed that earned him some respect in his book towards the older man.

"I'm just wishing the newbie some luck." Hawks shrugged, waved and walked away.

Kai calmed down as Hawks grew further and further away. Good riddance. He inwardly snorted and huffed.

Eraser stopped in front of the dinning hall, knocking. "Chisaki has arrived, my Lady."

"Thank you, Eraser." Your voice answered behind the grand door. "Enter."

Kai felt his heartbeat quicken and thunder in his ears. He felt the tips of his ears grow red before he inward shook himself and reschooled his features, watching Eraser open the door to a brightly lit dining room.

--- End of Part 1 -----

Here's the full fanart by @spectra-phantasma

Seriously, full credit goes to them! Again, thank you so much for the Overhaul/Kai Chisaki love! I love this fanart sooo much! Go check it out! Worth it! 100%! Lookie, lookie!

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/isabeauwolf/776513091777200128/queen-reader-x-courtesan-overhaul-part-2-the?source=share

Part 3: Coming Soon!

Tag list: @angelblueflame @fanofflames @staitc-rj @slayfics @cherry-queens-blog @chisvki @nikki0606 @myvillainacademiafan @s-k-3-l-l-y @doumadono @phantomhoeass @staitc-rj @wtf-ask-baddie-overhaul @spectra-phantasma @vaval3ntin @fairymama624 @wtf-ask-baddie-overhaul @booksooks @xxchisakislittleangelxx @x-kiwi-03 @inorganicone2230 @ghostreaderwazaa @overhauling @overhaulings @overhaulhautecouture @overhaulisms @puppyguppy @chainslobber @nakiich @number1villainstan @redr0sewrites @meeludrawz

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