#I don't really know what's going on in his mind

[bi-writes]

ok wait pause i have a question. first date, but like, real, you are my girlfriend date ? or like how'd they define their relationship (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

he's...fun.

it's just sex. mind-blowing, back-numbing, pussy-destroying sex. this man is pushing 40, and you swear you've never felt so out of breath. you convince yourself it's the military thing--he's used to pushing himself, exerting energy, testing the limits of his stamina. but holy shit, you'd think after round four, this man would take a quick nap or something, but no.

he's still balls-deep, hitting it from the back since you can't even keep yourself upright any longer. your skirt lays haphazardly thrown onto the floor, and oh--there's your panties, too, ripped to lacy shreds.

holy shit, this man is more than ten years older than you, and you've never been so out of your fucking mind--

"tha' the spot, love?" his voice is so condescending. he knows he's got you brainless. there's drool staining your lips, and you paw at the sheets for a better grip, but it's useless.

"y-yes, captain."

the low groan that leaves him makes you smile. he might have the upper hand, but if you really wanted to, you could make him come right now, too fast, too much.

you're in bliss. everything is bliss. you're still recovering from what must be the fifth or sixth orgasm--not as good as the second or third one, but still enough to make you cry fat, pleasured tears. you're shaking, in a good way, sinking to your stomach on the bed and pressing your face into his pillow.

"hmm..." your voice is soft and gooey, and when you take a deep breath, you get a long whiff of him. he smells good. clean. earthy. you tasted cigar smoke in his mouth earlier, and you can smell it here, too. just as you relax, you feel the weight of him on your back, and then his lips. he's kissing along your shoulder to your neck and then up your jaw. you tilt your head to give him room, your eyes shutting as his beard scruffs against your skin and his mouth laps at your chin. "i gotta go, john."

you giggle when he lays his entire body on top of yours, trapping you there. you reach up and grip the back of his neck, whining as he flattens his tongue against your jaw and swirls it there.

"john...i gotta go."

"why?"

"mmm..." you thumb at the hair along his scalp, shaking your head. "don't do this, john."

"not doing anythin'."

"we don't sleep over, john."

"what, is tha' some kind of rule? sounds mad."

you turn over a little, looking up at him. you cup his beard in both hands, giving him a chaste kiss.

"don't ruin it, john," you say softly. "this is supposed to be fun."

he tilts his head to the side. he looks so funny without a hat. you've seen him in a beanie, a boonie hat, a cap, you love them all on him. he looks nice like this, too, though--ass naked with his dog tags dangling against his sweaty pecs.

john's eyes twitch a little at your indifference. he settles on his side, leaning over you, and just as you move to get up, he reaches and grips at your face with a big paw of a hand. you clutch at his forearm, big and solid, and your lips pucker as he pulls you closer to him.

"y'r a bad liar, love," he mutters, shaking his head. "fear doesn't suit you."

"i'm not fucking scared."

"who was it?"

you glare up at him, struggling a bit under him. it's a stupid thing to think that you could get away from him. john is not moveable. he's a big fucking tree trunk of a man, with roots that burrow, and you are truly naïve if you think he'll let you up without an answer.

"shut the fuck up, john," you spit at him, but all he does is raise a brow. he's immune to your bite. he's not phased by your sour attempt at insulting him. in fact, it's what drew him to your bed in the first place--certified brat-tamer, captain john price. "you think you're so fucking smart. think you know everything, just because you've got a few years on me, well let me tell you, john--not everything is a fucking lesson learned. you're a military muppet with a decent cock, and that's all you'll ever be to me."

"tha' right?"

"you'll never put me first. you've got one woman, and that's the job, and that's fucking fine, john, but don't make this something it's not. you're lonely, and old, and your failed relationships don't make you wiser, they make you delusional for thinking that doing this again could ever--"

your breath falters when he kisses you. he squeezes your jaw a little harder, forcing your mouth to open, and you moan, squeezing your thighs together when he licks into your mouth and holds you there for him to play with.

"i do have other obligations. my men, the job..." he brushes the hair out of your eyes, and he presses his forehead to yours when he sees the tremble of your bottom lip and the wet look in your eyes. "but i don't do casual, sweetheart. it's all or nothing f'me."

your hand grips his wrist, squeezing tight, and you blink up at him. he's so close. he's right here. blue eyes, greying beard, a sad expression. he's not afraid of dying alone, but he is afraid of wasting time.

"please don't do this to me, john." your voice cracks, and he shrugs. he's sorry, but he's not sorry enough. not enough to let you go--and you're not strong enough to tell him no. it has to be him, but it won't be.

"it's alright," john whispers, but he knows it won't be. he's known you not but a few weeks, but he's made up his mind. he doesn't understand casual. even from the moment he saw you in that bar, it wasn't fleeting, it was definitive. it would be his. you would be his.

even if you were actually someone else's. even if you were bound to someone else. even if you weren't alone, it was already decided.

john's teeth are stuck here, right here, in the hollow of your throat. his fingers are twisted between the chords of your heart and in the spaces between your ribs. if he lets go, he'll break you apart.

so he's never going to let go.

[prael]

Day 12: Three Shades of Sin

Le Sserafim Kazuha & Yunjin & TripleS Xinyu

words: 11,736 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

Look, you know this story starts with the way Xinyu has her fingers threaded beneath Kazuha's jaw, her lipstick smeared off in bits and pieces, but that’s not actually how it ends. It’s a slow descent; watching your girlfriend kiss someone new is a beautiful disaster that never really loses its lustre, and the truth is, there’s no moral at the end of this tale - the closest you’ll get to something cathartic is this:

Yunjin grinning at you, sunshine-bright and wickedly gorgeous. “You gonna invite us in, or what?”

-

First things first: the bar is packed - oh, it's always packed - but especially so on the nights when Kazuha performs. It's not a burlesque club, not really; in theory, it's not all that much more than an upscale lounge for yuppies with more money than they need, trying to pretend they're living sophisticated lives with a splash of debauchery on the side.

It's packed, obviously, because they're getting a little more debauchery than expected tonight - but all the familiar faces are there: the grad-school crowd who treat this club like the neighbourhood dive bar; the pretentious A-list types who claim to hate this kind of thing but always seem to show up anyway; the trust-fund kids and their vices and habits; the semi-locals, like you. They’re the mainstay: you know their drink orders, what they’re into, whether you’ve gone home with them before. You know who is dating who. Who's got a looser distinction between romance and just fooling around. Who got fired. Who's always fucked up beyond all help. You know the girl sitting at the end of the bar nursing a cosmo and waiting for you, alone.

She'd come to see Kazuha perform like everyone else.

"You missed my boyfriend," Xinyu says to you, just shy of winking. She looks beautiful - she always does, of course, but this time: she's wearing black leggings and a crop top that shows off the cut of her waist, her toned abs. The skirt is so small it's basically an accessory to how she's got her dark hair pinned up into something half-bedroom, half-backstage-chic, hoop earrings that dangle just above the slope of her neck.

"Did I?" you reply, coy. It's not flirting - or maybe it is, you're not sure.

She tips her head, cheek resting delicately on her knuckles. You end up staring at her mouth; the words coquettish and prurient and absolutely, unquestionably fuckable are swirling around your brain. "Yep," she says, and her lips curve beautifully. "You did."

Xinyu turning up the dial until she's impossible to resist is pretty much standard-operating-procedure here- it's sort of like this place runs through her blood. She's claimed ownership of it for herself.

"It's too bad," she says, drumming acrylics on the countertop. She shoots you a look that's all bedroom eyes: that drowsy, liquid-lidded kind of want that tells you she'd have her head tilted back against your pillows in less than a few minutes if you asked. "I think you would've really gotten along."

"Guess I'll just have to settle for his girlfriend." You lean closer to her, conspiratorial. "This is fun. What else are we doing tonight?"

"Oh, yeah, you know." She stretches long and languid, satisfied. "Same as usual." That means dancing - some partying, probably lots of drinking, flirting. You're going to take her home and pin her wrists to the pillow above her head. You don't mind any of that - it's become your life, these last months, too. You know the routine here like you've known it for years.

"Want something to drink?" you ask her, and Xinyu considers you. Like she's going to pounce.

"Not really," she says, and then her chin fits into the dip between her thumb and pointer finger. You get closer. "Think I'm thirsty for something else." There's nothing left of the distance between you, and you're not kissing her yet, not yet - but the tension is making a point of shuddering and cracking.

All that promise of something more.

"Don't let this go to your head, but." Xinyu reaches out a hand. You play into the script; you take it and bring her knuckles to your lips. Her wrist smells like the perfume you bought her a Christmas ago. You kiss there, too - for a split second. "I love my boyfriend. He's great." Your eyes dart to hers again - she's always watching, waiting for the attention to come back her way. "But sometimes girls just hit differently, right?"

"See anyone in particular?" you say, still nonchalant, while Xinyu hooks a fingertip onto the neckline of your shirt.

"Oh," says Xinyu. Her grin is devilish, dangerous: like she'd carve right through your throat. "That's cute of you. Like, you really wanna know, hm? I have a list."

"How long is it?" You raise an eyebrow, feign boredom. She likes the challenge.

"Depends on the night."

"But I'm at the top," you continue, unabashed - your usual brand of charming. "Right?"

Xinyu laughs; it's a delight, musical and precious. You'd listen to it for hours if you could.

"You already know, honey." Her nails skim your neck; they catch in your hair. The strands fall over the silver around her fingers. "Top of my list, and everyone else's, too."

"Nope." You lean even further over the bar, stealing the inches, taking them for your own. "Not tonight."

"I don't share." Xinyu taps your nose, prim, smirking. Her eyes are shining, brimming with energy - you can't look away from her. She's intoxicating. She's beautiful. "He wouldn't like that anyway."

"Oh, come on. That sounds like a 'him' problem. Right?"

There's a raucous chorus of laughter from across the floor: people coming in from the cold, wanting to see the show, see a gorgeous girl in next-to-nothing strut her stuff up onstage. You watch as Xinyu's eyelashes flutter, delighted - she's waiting for something to begin; this is a ritual that repeats, the fervour starting low and ending high.

And it starts, and it ends, always, with you looking at her.

"We'll see," sings Xinyu, and she twirls on her stool, one leg neatly hooked over the other. The bar erupts into thunderous applause - the lights dim, and Kazuha emerges onstage.

-

See, the club isn't normally about stripteases - sure, some girls dance - but this is still a place with bottle service and $18 cocktails, not one where dancers make a show of stripping out of their lingerie. And it's not like you care much for how people try to make themselves seem better than they are, really: if you wanna be trashy, fine. If you want to keep up appearances, put on some kind of show like you're worth a dime more than anyone else out there, great, fine, do that. This place may be the latter, but in the end, it's all the same; everything falls apart once the night sets in. Everything stays messy, no matter which box you paint yourself into.

That's a long preface to say: you're just not expecting her in the slightest.

To be honest, most nights aren't all that exciting - there are people to remember, drinks to mix up, tabs to close and mouths to kiss, sometimes - but mostly, there's not a lot worth mentioning. When people come into the bar - the people who are new, the people who think that this is an opportunity for the night to turn interesting - you look up, size them up, wonder who they're going home with, if you're interested at all. More often than not, it's none of the above.

"Hi," says the new face as she slides up to you on the stool. Well, okay, so this part is different.

Xinyu stepped out earlier - said she had someone else to find, said you'd probably like who she had in mind, but whatever. You'll see when you see. You're not picky. You were ready to dick around on your phone until your girlfriend figured out which plaything you were both in the mood for tonight - you're not opposed to another addition, not at all - but then-

Then the girl sits at the bar, leans on her elbows over the polished surface. Rakes her fingers through the wisps of dark hair at her forehead, pushes it back, and -

And meets your gaze dead on, and doesn't break it. Not even a bit.

Okay - so, she's blindingly, impossibly stunning. A textbook fucking ten.

"Hi," she says again, firmer, like she knows what you're thinking. "Do they serve anything here that isn't blue or tastes like putting your tongue to a nine-volt?"

It's such a shockingly mild opener that you immediately laugh at her. It just spills right out of you.

"Yeah," you say, leaning against the bar, mildly amused. You call over the bartender, order in duplicate - you're pretty sure that's how this works, you have to get the drink in front of her, not even mention it, just let her know that you're calling the shots here - and then fix her with another look, eyebrows quirked. "New in town?" you ask. Small talk. Sure.

"No," she replies, "just new in here." She tosses her silky red hair over her shoulder. Reveals the halter-neck of her blouse and the deepness of the dip. Her collarbones are out. You barely even notice. "Also," she continues, "this place is a fucking zoo."

There's no patience to her. She's harsh, no filter. Your drinks arrive, and she hardly reacts when they do.

"It's a bit crowded." You're trying somewhat to stay diplomatic. "It's the girl on stage," you offer, and you gesture vaguely towards Kazuha's figure: long legs and curves in all the right places, raven-black hair falling to her waist. Everyone looks at her like she's a gift sent down from heaven. She's dressed in something gold, sequin, and she knows that they're pretty much right.

"Well, I guess that explains it."

"Everyone's hoping she'll take off more clothes." You shrug your shoulders at your new companion. "But she never does, so I'm not quite sure why everyone thinks tonight will be the exception."

"No shit," the girl drawls, her tone entirely blasé - she's so painfully disaffected, the disinterested, entitled type; your heart skips a beat. "No offence to you, man, but I think most of the guys here are either idiots or creeps." The redhead wrinkles her nose. "Or both."

"A fair assessment, honestly," you muse. Sip your drink. It's bitter. She hasn't touched hers. "You think I'm any different?"

The corner of her mouth ticks up. "No," she says.

The room seems to tilt sideways, and everything gets fuzzy: it feels like you're supposed to be talking in code or perhaps just reading between lines - there's a whole secret conversation happening beneath this surface-level, meaningless banter. You're making contact, making plans. She knows where this is going. You're right there with her.

"The girl up there is cute," the redhead says after a while, thoughtful. "What's your deal with her? How come you haven't turned into one of the animals in the horde yet?"

It's an obvious line of questioning.

"She's nice," you admit, "but I've already got something good going with someone. No need to push my luck with anyone else."

At this, she raises an eyebrow, curious, cautious, wary. "Nice, how?"

"I mean, she's beautiful," you say, "very pretty." Easy things. Surface things. These things anyone could list off. "Cute voice."

"Nothing in particular, though, huh." Her eyes flick back to the performer onstage - Kazuha's walking the catwalk, kicking her heel out at the men closest to her; her skirt rides up, and everyone goes absolutely wild for it - and then returns her focus to you. "Not your type?"

You've been in this seat - or one just like it, at least - watching Kazuha's ass onstage for countless nights. You're well aware of her appeal, but you can't figure out a harmless way to say your mind is giving you three images of a palm-print burning across the same expanse of skin at any given moment.

You shrug, ambivalence feigned. "I guess not."

"It's funny." She props her chin on her palm, her nail polish glittering against her jawline. She's barely touched her drink. "The girl's normally such a doll, right? Kind of girlish. Could barely hold a conversation with a boy when I met her. And now she's all that. On stage."

"Hmm," you reply, like you can't imagine it. "Is that right?"

"Oh yeah," she tells you, half-smiling. Her lipstick leaves marks on the glass as she takes her first sip. "Years of ballet school will do that to a girl. Though maybe something about performing just became second nature."

"Explains the legs," you mutter, feeling the look she levels with you; dangerous. "And the gracefulness," you amend quickly. She raises an eyebrow at you, and you raise one right back; it's a power struggle, and when her fingers curl across her chin, you almost choke on nothing.

"Legs and grace," she says. "That's about it for her, huh?"

You nod, your voice quiet, soft.

"How do you know her?" you ask gently.

"Oh, honey," she croons. Her face is halfway to laughter, mirth perched like a threat in her voice. She puts a palm flat on the counter and slides it forward so her manicure scrapes at the varnish. Leans into you over the edge of the bar and presses her lips to your ear. "I'm fucking her."

Everything in your brain stops, and starts; everything crashes down around you; everything rearranges.

"You know," the girl continues like she's explaining something casual, something innocent, "she's real fun on her hands and knees. Can't get enough of me." She tilts her head, contemplative. "I suppose she is beautiful," she adds, almost thoughtfully, and then reaches out her fingers. Tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "And graceful."

All you can picture are those gorgeous, creamy thighs marked up by nails like razors: bruises shaped like fingertips, angry scratches that would leave scars if pushed hard enough. Things for her to return to.

You swallow. You blink.

"She's very lovely," you say, careful, careful.

"Listen." The girl leans away, sweeps her red hair back over her shoulder, fixes you with her heavy-lidded eyes again. "We don't have to pretend we're in love or anything." Her voice is velvet, husky; the words catch at your eardrum and melt there, dripping down the bones of your skull like liquid seduction. "She's busy, clearly. So, I'm looking for a little company tonight, and I think I've found it."

"And your girlfriend?"

"Can't make it." She smiles, wolfish. "Which, if you don't mind me saying, is very lucky for you."

"Girlfriend, who you fuck into the mattress," you clarify. "She'd have no problem sharing?"

"With a pretty thing like you?" Her eyelashes flutter - the way they sweep low makes shadows across her cheeks, delicate. "No chance she'd object."

Your mouth twists to the side. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," she purrs. "Just: I'm going to go to the bathroom, and I think you could follow me there in five minutes, tops. Sound like a plan, handsome?"

Oh.

Okay. You think vaguely that Xinyu's probably got a hand in this, somehow. Doing this on purpose, leaving you here to fend for yourself - and it's a very Xinyu kind of move, really: setting you up with some stranger, letting her proposition you, and waiting for it to escalate past the point of return. Sending you right up to a pretty pair of vices, telling you to chew them down to size. Maybe if you do good - you already know how she wants you to perform - you'll get an actual reward later. Another girl for you to fuck, or maybe Xinyu herself. Or both. Your brain is spinning in circles. You really, really can't think straight with her breathing right onto your pulse.

"What, you've got something better to do than fuck two girls tonight? The girl seems to weigh something out in her mind; watches you through a side-long glance. "You really can't drop everything to play around for a little bit?"

So maybe it's not Xinyu's handiwork - this is a little too far-fetched, even for her - but you can't lie. When she goes ahead, drags her fingers on your shoulder as she glides by and doesn't bother looking back, the way your cock throbs makes it easy to decide that it doesn't matter.

-

You get lost a bit on the logistics. (That'll actually be a recurring theme.)

There's a pair of single-occupancy toilets in the back of the bar, ostensibly family washrooms; for mothers with children, wheelchairs, sloppy bathroom sex with god-blessedly gorgeous strangers, that sort of thing - but they're occupied. Both the handles spun up; red tags flipped up to indicate engagement, a motif, and symbolism in spades. Something heavy-handed and easily ignored.

"Maybe I should just get on my knees right here," she suggests eventually - like a joke, but she'd do it. You're pretty sure.

"Absolutely not," you counter, only a little bit scandalized. She grins and presses a palm flat to your abdomen.

"Just problem-solving." She's totally blasé. "Critical thinking."

"Careful with that," you warn her, sorta unreasonably given where your fingers are on the cut of her hips.

She pretends to think about it, fingers tapping thoughtfully on her lip, a comical exaggeration, and you just roll your eyes. You think about getting her name, maybe a number - you could just leave it at that, save her contact info under tall, great ass, (fuckable) lips and pray to hell it never comes up as recommended when someone else texts you.

Yeah, right. It's better to just bury yourself in this until it all dissolves - stick to the immediacy of it. Get your mouth on every part of her body and lick her clean, and then be gone before the sun rises. Right?

She pulls you down by your neck and slots your lips together again, slow, agonizing, her lips slipping over yours like they're made to be there. She kisses like it's an art form - something you can perfect, practice - and her tongue darts along the seam of your mouth like she wants to coax you open. There's the bite of cherry lipstick, sweet and candied; her fingertips into your belt loops, then yanks you toward her with her nose scrunched and a wicked smile.

"I can't believe you'd let me fuck you with your back against the wall like this." Her hips bump forward into yours - she's playing at bashful, coy and innocent. She's failing miserably. "What if someone sees?"

"I think you'd like that," you answer.

"Mmm," she agrees. She's tipping her head back, sliding her tongue across her upper lip, baring her neck to you. Her eyes flick back up, dragging like a blade. "Letting someone walk by, seeing you pushing into me, knowing I was about to make you lose control...yeah. Sounds hot, honestly."

"Shut up," you murmur, leaning closer.

"Make me," she kisses back, eyes flashing; oh, if you didn't feel it before, this is definitely how you know you'll see her again: you recognize the power in her stance, the firecracker-red blaze in her glare - it's like looking in a mirror, that domineering aggression. It's the promise of a rivalry; something you'll want to tame.

A wayward thought lingers: oh, hell - your mind is rapid on the recall, an endless, eager, addicting memory loop - how she kisses, too. The silky sweetness, the enthusiasm - the way her hands bury in your shirt and her pitched, muffled sounds of appreciation spill right into your throat. How she's such an obscene daydream, and the filthy, filthy things she tells you with her hands in your hair - the shock of that, her bold, pretty mouth telling you what she's fantasizing about right now and the fact that those fantasies line up with yours in nearly every sense. Her very presence is a contradiction, her mismatched gestures: tender kisses and wandering hands; how, for every inch given, she'll take five more.

You get your fingers under her skirt, pull her legs up to your waist; she wraps her palm over your cock; smiles against your lips, almost smitten but too arrogant for it: a villainous grin. You hitch one of her thighs over your hip, her panties damp against your slacks. Oh, how good she is - how perfect the feeling, how beautifully her teeth sink into the soft underside of your lower lip like you belong to her: a piece of property.

"That's it, sweetheart," you groan, kissing the apple of her cheek, letting the blush seep right under your tongue. Your hand hovers near her inner thigh. "God, you're so fucking sexy."

"Touch me," she hisses into the skin of your cheek.

"So demanding," you hum.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," she moans, arching into your chest - but her eyelashes flutter as your thumb ghosts across the fabric of her underwear, teasing. "Ah-ha..."

You'll justify it later, somehow: a cheat night, maybe - Xinyu's so used to getting other girls all to herself, you should have a few all to your own - and this one doesn't count as one, really; she belongs to someone else anyway, the raven-haired girl with the siren voice, long legs in silk stockings and pearls across her neck and high-heeled boots clicking across the pavement. And Kazuha doesn't even have to know: she's busy, probably; off with another guy or two or three. No reason to tell her what happens - you certainly won't complain. One orgasm and the redhead will be out of your hair.

There's a side door, some stairs. Nobody stops to ask who you are or where you're going, or even so much as bat an eye as you spill out into the alley - where people go to smoke or fight or vomit; she kisses you outside in the cold air, sliding her hands into your pockets and pushing up to the tips of her toes. There's a smile on her face like you're her best idea ever. It's cold out; she doesn't appear to care.

"God, I'm wet," she breathes, and you don't have to believe her.

"I bet I can help with that." Your jacket slides across your shoulders, off onto the concrete. You're leading her around a corner and against a brick wall. It's dark here. Dark enough for mistakes. Dark enough that you can press her spine to the bricks, slide your hands to her sides and lift her up, taste the lipstick across her jawline-

"Oh my god," comes a voice - softer, sweeter, a total siren lilt. "Please, fuck, that feels so-"

Both your heads swivel.

One streetlight illuminates Kazuha with her back pressed to the bricks and her hand curled tightly in all this black hair, panting, pleading: a perfect fucking masterpiece. She's got her eyes screwed shut, her lips parted; she's absolutely lost.

"Huh," says the redhead, dispassionate - and her fingers curl loosely over your forearm, drumming rhythmically. "Looks like she got distracted after all."

The hand between her legs is fucking her up and doing it fast, snapping sharp wrist motions accompanied by these rhythmic, throaty gasps from Kazuha as she holds onto the edge of a dumpster lid, clawing at metal. There's a muffled string of curses as the woman crouches, leaning forward - shoving her tongue inside. "Fu-uck," Kazuha manages, two distinct syllables - and her grip tightens around her waist, her spine. You catch the light shining off her gold earrings like a flash-warning, and you fall short of a breath.

“Xinyu?” you sputter. “What’re you-”

Xinyu extracts her hand from Kazuha’s cunt, licks her fingers clean and turns to you, not at all guilty - but she isn’t sorry, either. You blink hard.

“Oh, hey,” says Xinyu, cheery as anything. She brushes off her dress. “Didn’t think I’d find you here.”

“Neither did we,” you choke, dry-mouthed. “Are you…”

“We’re making use of some downtime,” offers Kazuha, smoothing down her hair, wiping off her smudged lipstick. The makeup is so precise that it doesn’t look smudged at all - or maybe that’s just how used she is to covering it up. “Is there a problem?”

“No, none-” Your mouth snaps shut as Xinyu meets your stare and gives you an impish little shrug, biting back a smile. She saunters over to where you stand, keeping a respectable distance.

“Look at this, babe," Xinyu says. She gestures to the girl you were making out two seconds ago, casual. "I found him first. Isn’t he handsome?”

“You’ve got weird taste,” replies the redhead, not unkindly, tilting her head back against the wall and exposing all that gorgeous skin. You can see her chest rise and fall in ragged breaths. Xinyu walks a hand up your torso, palms your collarbone with a suggestive smile - it's a little possessive, but then again, you realize you’ve forgotten to let go of the other girl's hand.

“You would be into him,” retorts Kazuha. She laughs softly. “Hi, Jen,” she adds, almost as an afterthought.

“Hey,” Yunjin says, wiggling her fingers, lazy. “Loved the performance."

"Shut the fuck up," snipes Kazuha, rolling her eyes, but she's flushed, halfway to an orgasm that's not gonna happen because everyone is apparently choosing now to puzzle this one out. "Could see you flirting with him the entire time, idiot."

"He's super fucking hot," says Yunjin. "Oh, speaking of which-" She tugs you closer by your wrist - you're stuck, standing still, trapped between three gorgeous women ready to argue over who saw who first.

“Wait,” you manage, breaking free. Yunjin huffs. Xinyu frowns, blinking. Kazuha leans back against the wall.

“We didn’t plan this or anything,” explains Kazuha. “Xinyu just likes what she sees sometimes.” There’s a practised ease in the way she says this - like this has all been rehearsed before between the two of them. "Or, well-" Kazuha lifts a shoulder, delicate, polished. "A lot of the time, I guess."

"Yeah," Xinyu says, not defensive. "So?"

"Well," you say, after a long moment - your mind working furiously to process, reconcile, synthesize - this scene where you're being pulled in six directions at once, trying to put this story together before any more pages flip.

"That's your girlfriend," you say to Yunjin, finally - and point a finger towards Kazuha.

"And yours," says Kazuha, one hand on Xinyu's hip. “Hi,” she adds.

"Yep," says Xinyu. "How about that."

She steps up close to you and bats those dark lashes. Behind her, Kazuha’s gaze catches your glance; it takes you a solid ten seconds to realize she’s trying to place where she’s seen you before - it clicks for her all at once, though it's a lot quicker for you - and then it all slots neatly into place, every cog and screw lining up in an easy motion.

“So.” Yunjin chews idly at the pad of her thumb. "What, you guys met once at the mall or something?"

"Yeah," you reply, realizing exactly how you and yours have come to fall for two of the same type. "We met at the mall."

If you'd like to imagine that this goes smoothly after that - it doesn't. Not really. It's more accurate to say that Yunjin looks at you, your blank stare, the panic - and the three girls just dissolve into laughter, giddy and conspiratorial like they've just pulled off the world's greatest coup.

"C'mon," says Yunjin. She's so good at reading social cues - like, oh, you being totally stunned-silent by the sheer amount of sexual energy suddenly coursing through this alleyway. "You said it yourself," Yunjin reminds you, gesturing at Kazuha, "beautiful, very pretty, nice legs." She brings her lips to your cheek. "You didn't lie about that."

"What?" says Kazuha.

Yunjin just smiles, brushes a lock of red hair behind her ear. "We have taste," she tells Kazuha, confident and poised - and then to you, hushed under her breath, "I'd watch you rail her," she murmurs. Her tongue darts out, pressing wet and warm into the shell of your ear. "Would you like that?"

"That's-" you start. You stop. Xinyu looks over at you, a devious flicker lighting up her eyes - oh, god; if that doesn't spell disaster, nothing does -and the grin she gives you is so downright evil you wonder why you ever dared dream you stood a chance. She looks back over at Kazuha, reaches out a hand to clasp gently at that impossible waist, pulling her in close.

"Sweetheart," Xinyu drawls, tracing a thumb over her jawline. "Doll," she continues, letting the nickname linger. She leans up, pecks a kiss against Kazuha's mouth - but her eyes don't leave yours for a second. She bites down gently on Kazuha's lower lip, tugging lightly at the skin before letting it snap back.

"You know I wouldn't ever get jealous over sharing something with you," Xinyu murmurs. She says it like a proclamation; something binding, solemn - a pact signed in ink, wax-sealed and pressed into the skin of Kazuha's collarbone. They're practically the same height. It makes your throat run dry. "You get me," she says.

Yunjin laughs, but not meanly. "It's cute how you pretend you aren't selfish," she says to Xinyu, rolling her eyes. Her lips curve upwards. "Tell me something I don't know." And then - you feel her fingertips trail delicately over your waistband, slipping her thumb below the hem of your jeans. "Hey, Kazuha?"

Kazuha drags her focus off Xinyu with visible effort, snapping back into the conversation.

"Wanna ride his face?"

Xinyu is grinning like a lunatic, gorgeous and predatory.

Kazuha gathers her hair off her neck. “He seems like the type who would want to eat pussy for hours."

"I wouldn't complain," you croak out - and Yunjin laughs. It’s genuine, unpracticed, the sort of thing that shakes her shoulders; it fills you up.

"Why don't you sit back down against that wall," she tells you, nudging at your ribs. Her touch feels electric. "Relax."

Oh. She says it like an order, and you realize that she knows full well what it'll do to you. She's still smiling, though it's sharper now, sharper, hungrier - like the glint of fangs that'll tear you apart. It's really no wonder you ended up exactly where she wanted you - but then you realize Kazuha's looking at you, and you realize that you're not entirely sure whose team you're on or if there even are any teams here. It's not like you can complain. The most you can manage is a grunt of acknowledgement, sitting down slowly, trying not to trip over your own feet and ruin everything.

"Good boy," Yunjin quips, quiet enough to feel private, intimate. You blink up at her, still holding her hand in your lap as you sit down, staring like she holds the key to all seven wonders of the world in her palm. "Kazuha," Yunjin calls over her shoulder, patting your arm. "Get over here. Come meet my new friend."

And that's sorta how you wind up in some kind of...what-the-fuck situation? Some otherworldly thing you shouldn't even hope to explain - some alternate dimension shit with two beautiful women pressing you back against some dirty-ass brick wall in the alley behind your usual haunt, a third one laughing hysterically at all four of you. You feel like the dumbest motherfucker alive, especially when Xinyu whispers something in Yunjin's ear, and it earns a resounding laugh, but mostly just because your girlfriend's hands are everywhere and Yunjin's sitting back and watching like it's prime-time television.

That - and also because Kazuha's decided she needs your face buried in her cunt ASAP, and frankly, you can't even muster up the energy to disagree.

-

First things first: the bar is packed - oh, wait, no: it's always packed. But especially so on the nights where you're trying to navigate this stupid situation, you got yourself into where three fucking goddesses have you on rotation, like clockwork. 

You're collecting coats and closing tabs, doing your absolute best not to bring any more attention to how Kazuha's wobbling on both legs because she can't quite walk straight anymore.

Yunjin - your current distraction, clad in the most perfect shade of red lipstick, clinging onto your favourite girl like a lifeline - keeps leaning over to Xinyu, whispering frantically in her ear, and it's like the more they talk, the more amused Xinyu gets.

"I told Yunjin your apartment's the closest," Xinyu says to you, eventually, a small smirk forming on her face. "Think she wants you alone for a while. Sounds like she thinks you could really, uh-" She nods toward you, gesturing pointedly towards your belt. "Blow her back out, is how she phrased it."

Oh. Well, then. Yeah, no, you'd be perfectly okay with that.

When you glance back over at the rest of your - you don't have a word for it - entourage, all three pairs of eyes are locked on you, expectant and eager. Jesus fucking Christ. You make brief eye contact with Yunjin; her smile grows impossibly wider. This was meant to be a casual night, wasn't it? A nice outing at the lounge bar where you down drinks and enjoy the scenery - that was how it started, right? Then Yunjin had shown up, demanding all your attention like you owed it to her just for existing (and honestly? You kinda do). It'd been an excuse to look at Kazuha's tits, and then another to press your mouth all over Xinyu's - but the way your girlfriend's looking at you makes it abundantly clear that that ship's already sailed. 

Kazuha raises a water bottle to her lips, looking cool and confident as ever (oh, you know better).

"Didn't mean to invite everyone over, but." Xinyu preens, adjusting the hem of her skirt and checking for signs of wear. She knows exactly what she's saying, exactly what you're thinking - there's an intentness to her words. "You wouldn't mind, right, baby?"

"Yeah, sure," you agree, glancing up at all of them with a nod. You've never moved faster in your life; your coat's over your arm, keys in your pocket, the whole ensemble. They're watching you, waiting patiently. Xinyu raises an eyebrow. "Lead the way?"

She beams. She turns, slips her purse strap over her shoulder. "Alright," she chirps - and the four of you take off into the night.

-

It's funny, you think: Xinyu's also had a weak spot for Kazuha, probably since the first time she saw her perform. (That's the part that sticks out in your brain.) But then again, maybe Kazuha knew about Xinyu too; they seem pretty damn cosy for this being their first interaction with each other, though you suppose you can't judge - you were practically aching for Yunjin within an hour of meeting her, weren't you?

But whatever. Your cock is in Yunjin's hand, and your mind is very much not present right now. That's the important thing.

By the time you finally unlocked your front door, all four of you stumbling in - everyone tipsy, aroused, dying to get their hands on someone's skin - Yunjin immediately glued herself to you, pushing your coat off your shoulders. She'd gotten your zipper undone in record time. It's not the first time, obviously: she's got this ghost of a grip around your cock already, a knowing stroke, this way of handling your arousal that feels almost proprietary in its control.

There's an island in the kitchen; you're washed up on its shore. Fingers spread across the marble sand as the edge presses against your lower back. "Drinks are in the—"

"You can skip the fanfare." Yunjin is stroking you, her other hand at the nape of your neck to pull you down, kiss her; your mouth meets hers, hot, messy, too hard. Pick up where you left off sort of thing. Some unheard conversation must have planned this, on the street or in the hallway or the elevator—they'd figured out some secret plot, who got what, how they would split up, and it starts here.

It's in your periphery that you see them cross, hand in hand, watching you come undone by the vixen in red. Xinyu is taking the lead, and you can see her mind working overtime to figure out what would drive you the most insane right now. She stops at the couch, centre-view, perching herself on the back of it to pull the other girl against her. Kazuha giggles in the high pitch, something that sounds too sweet to come from someone whose job it is to get men going—and maybe she does that on purpose: the look over her shoulder accompanies a feigned innocence.

Xinyu looks past her, gaze falling over Yunjin first: red dress, blood red lips, hair like a hearth-fire, and the hand moving on your cock in your unbuckled jeans. "A head start? How unfair." She rolls her eyes with all the mocking derision she can muster, but her smirk betrays her. She's pushing Kazuha by the shoulder, putting the dancer down on her knees. Even in the most compromising position possible, she looks immaculate: she sinks, legs together, ass perched on her heels. There's not a strand of hair out of place, and even in her lust, Xinyu strives to maintain the fact, so she takes care in the way she pulls Kazuha between her thighs. A gentle, fingertip hold, as she spreads her knees to frame her.

You watch with rapt attention; you can hardly look away. The whole thing is artfully posed.

Yunjin says your name, the first word you've heard from her, and you've only missed it a little. Your gaze moves to her. You expect another comment, snide, but her mouth parts, like the words have been stolen right out of it.

"You good?" You're trying to be a gentleman, if not an asshole—and it works, too; it spurs her back. She bites the corner of her lip and hums.

"Yeah, you know." A half-shrug accompanies her words as she lets you slide a strap from her shoulder. "Still waiting for you to blow my back out."

Oh. You laugh, hoarse. Yeah, that's—that's on the agenda, for sure.

It's just—the show, right across from you, has started.

Kazuha, in her performance, has Xinyu's skirt pushed up around her waist, face against her thigh, breath hot on her skin, fingers splayed over her knee to press her legs even wider. The most natural seduction; the effortless allure that laces every part of her. Her lips against skin are soft and pink, moving against the curve of the muscle, mouthing up higher. You know how that feels—travelling the vast expanse of Xinyu's long legs in search of something to bury your face in.

"She's in for a treat," Yunjin whispers.

"So am I," you return, placing a hand on Yunjin's now strapless shoulder and putting just enough weight into your hand that she knows she's going down.

"Can't promise I won't bite," she warns, in the tone that makes your throat dry, in the way you think she just might. But you've also had the image of Yunjin's head bobbing in your lap the whole cab ride home.

If there's a heaven, you'll find it in a mouth like this one: soft-lipped, warm and wet, tongue on you. You reach for the back of her neck, feel the silk of her hair under your palm as she sucks hard enough to make your hips jerk. Then there's the gentlest of grazes—her teeth on your shaft, and it makes your jaw tighten. She's all smirk and smoulder, eyes coming up to see what kind of face she's making you pull.

"Oops," she laughs.

"Fuck," Xinyu gasps, the loudest sound in the room. There's the slightest shift of Kazuha's shoulders, the way her back bows when her tongue drags from slit to clit; nose pushed up tight.

Xinyu, still leaning over the back of the couch, turns her gaze toward you, then, heavy, desperate, and dark: an intensity that hits right in the base of your stomach and twists like a dull knife.

Xinyu trades pleasured gasps for a coy remark. "Look at her go. Eats pussy like she'll starve to death without it." It's like she needs to comment on it, all casual, as if there weren't someone between her legs, making her thighs tense.

Yunjin pulls back just long enough to say, "Tell me about it." Then she goes deep enough that you see your cock hit the back of her throat. No warning. You cough out an obscenity. It's good, and it's better because of what you're looking at.

"Yeah?" Xinyu says. "Be pretty easy to cum like this, you know?" The implication hangs in the air, unaddressed.

Just like Yunjin before you, you agree. "Tell me about it."

Your girl, on the couch, her body twists again. Kazuha is making her work to keep the upper hand in all this, if there's such a thing, and she has to put conscious effort into keeping her words steady. Her focus is on you, on your face, on how your mouth opens every time Yunjin sinks her mouth to the hilt.

"Do you wanna cum like this?" Yunjin says to the underside of your dick, her hot breath against your length.

You look to Xinyu for a final answer: her head's back and her chin tilted high in a groan that fills the room, an arcing note in a rising song that starts between her thighs. Her hands grip the cushions.

"She's close," You say off-handedly. An easy observation. It doesn't answer her question.

"Could finish you so easily," Yunjin hums. You feel her words against the crown. She swirls her tongue, and you clench your fists.

"Faster than Kazuha?"

"Much faster." Yunjin grins like she's just thrown down a challenge. And you get why it works: competitive to a fault.

"No chance," Xinyu manages. There's sweat on the skin that shimmers with highlight, her chest heaving with every laboured breath, "absolutely—" Kazuha presses forward, and the rest comes out a curse. She grits out the words. "Impossible."

"Bet?" says Yunjin, her nails dug deep enough into your skin that it leaves little crescent moons.

Xinyu's head lifts. There's a smile on her face that's just shy of wicked, "I'd say winner takes all."

There are very few bets that Xinyu won't take and fewer stakes that she won't gamble with, but she's got confidence in Kazuha's ability, and time is a-ticking. Even with how wound up Yunjin's got you, watching them, it's still an even race at this point. Kazuha has a lot to prove: this is a test to see if her pretty lips and clever tongue can get her girl to the finish line faster than anyone else.

And, oh—she can taste it, can't she: Xinyu dripping wetness to her chin, her folds spread and cunt eager. The dancer's a performer of many skills: her fingers slide inside, her mouth locked in place and sucking hard until Xinyu is fucking her mouth with the back and forth of her hips. In a moment of indulgence, she presses Kazuha's face deeper, harder. It's rougher, meaner: she pushes her up tight enough that her air might just get cut off, if it weren't for the moans that slip from the singer's mouth. "God—" You think she says, and then nothing but sharp inhale and the jolt of her hips that has Kazuha's nails in the flesh of her inner thighs.

Yunjin's picking up the slack on you. Maybe to wipe the smirk from your girlfriend's face, or maybe she just really wants your cum down her throat. That's fine. You're not opposed.

Mouth briefly replaced by hand, strokes hard and tight, so she can talk and please. "Better cum in me soon. You'll lose." She winks. She's not wrong, and she sucks in her next breath like she knows it. That mouth on you again.

Let's be real. Let's not get it twisted. You win. You always win.

Xinyu will cum first. It's one of those facts in life. Death, taxes and Xinyu's climaxes.

It starts in her chest—a hitch that becomes a heavy rise and fall, a moan from deep in her throat. Her body follows it: every limb taut like strings in a bow. Tension: her head back to the sky and the arch in her back like a crescent. Her legs start to shake. It's there that you feel your blood thrumming, the adrenaline that starts that climb before your fall, and Yunjin takes her cue to speed things up on her end as Xinyu tumbles over on hers. Her thighs tense, tight, trembling.

"Oh—oh fuck—Kazuha." Xinyu moaning another woman's name always has a certain kind of kick to it, even more so with you down Yunjin's throat. She's never shy about this. Never timid. Always, unabashedly, the way it is with you and how she'll scream and cry for it, for the orgasm that wracks her like an electric current.

Kazuha has no interest in easing her down: the pads of her fingertips work her open, pumping inside, tongue flat to lap against the pulsing heat, riding her through each wave and crest, drawing them longer, higher. Xinyu's shaking with the overstimulation, hands in hair, but not pulling back.

"God. Fuck, Kazuha—" This time, there's the edge of desperation to it, so close to pleading for it to stop.

There's a moment when you lock your eyes. Xinyu looking through the strands of her dark hair that stick to her cheeks, and the sweat that glosses her forehead, the flush on her skin, her lipstick smeared in places. And that smile, her wicked grin in full bloom. Her breath coming in shallow heaving puffs. Kazuha is slowing. Stilling.

You've been teetering close to that razor's edge, the precipice of it, but there was only ever going to be one winner. Yunjin pulls her mouth from you and she has no idea just how close you were, just how cruel the denial, as she stands.

You say her name as a question: why would she ever fucking stop?

Her mouth to your ear, and you feel her smirking again, her teeth against the shell: "You lost," she murmurs.

"You lost," Xinyu echoes from across the room. She pushes Kazuha away, legs still unsteady, as she slides from the couch to her feet and straightens out the fabric of her dress. You watch as Kazuha touches the gloss of her lip and sucks it off her finger. Her smile is soft and warm when she gets to her feet. It's like a stage; everything posed: Xinyu and Kazuha, standing side-by-side and arms entwined.

"Second place," says Xinyu, looking you right in the eyes.

"I get it," you say. Your cock stands at full mast. "You don't need to remind me."

"Oh," she grins, leaning against the dancer, "I absolutely do." Her hand touches Kazuha's chin and lifts, kissing her deep, tongues dancing against one another's. When Xinyu's teeth drag along her bottom lip, you know she must be able to taste herself. "She's real good. Though I do wonder what her girlfriend is like," she whispers as she eyes Yunjin.

Kazuha speaks up. "She can definitely make a girl cum." She speaks with such nonchalance as if she's discussing the weather or what brand her shampoo is and not the way she's had Yunjin eating out of her cunt.

Kazuha is a professional; it's no surprise to hear she knows how to get a girl to see god, and it's no surprise that anyone she lays with has to be on top of their game. Xinyu knows, too. She grins, and she laughs, and she holds her waist like Kazuha's some sort of prize, and it's just so Xinyu, this display. "Lucky us." She touches a hand to the dancer's hip. She says to Yunjin, "We oughta try her out."

"You're going to leave him hanging?" says Yunjin, running a hand down your chest dangerously low before taking it back, a gentle press of lips on your jaw. "That's not very fair."

"He can help you out, right?" Xinyu offers, gesturing in your direction with one of those looks in her eyes. You know that one. "Make us cum." And her hand slips to the swell of Kazuha's breast, groping greedily. It's a demand that comes out as a suggestion.

Kazuha whispers something inaudible to Xinyu's ears and it must've been good because the woman hums, intrigued, the smile on her mouth turning wider and more mischievous by the second. They both take a step, both reach out, Kazuha takes your wrist and Xinyu takes Yunjin's. Wordlessly, they take you away from the kitchen and to the window: the massive wall of windows that line your apartment with the city behind.

"I want the world to see," Kazuha explains. "To wish they were you."

"Sounds a little cheesy," you quip.

"Sounds hot," Xinyu retorts as she places her hands on the glass. She bends forward so that the swell of her ass pushes out against the hem of her skirt, and against Yunjin, who is standing right behind her. "Don't you think, babe?" she teases Yunjin.

"Very," Yunjin says. She moves her fingers along the seams of Xinyu's body, finding their way underneath her top. You hear Xinyu breathe out through her mouth. Yunjin moves closer to Xinyu's ear and bites it. "But the only ones that'll actually get to touch you, to taste you... that'll be us, huh?" She moves her fingers along the waistband of her skirt.

Xinyu turns her head back at her, smiling. "They'll be able to see how well I can take it, too. You'll let them see, won't you?"

Kazuha perches in front of you, spreading her fingers out against the glass, lowering her shoulders, arching her spine and lifting her ass to the sky for your taking. In an instant, you're on your knees and appreciating her for everything she's worth. "You don't need to be a gentleman. Just go for it. You already had the courtesy earlier," she tells you as you move closer.

"Can't I take a moment to appreciate you first?" you reply.

"Do you have to?" Her laugh is half a moan, and she's pulling up her own dress. "Are you so infatuated by the sight of me? Because, believe me—" and her words are cut off as you sink your teeth into her cheeks, your fingertips pressing tight into the skin at her hip— "you've seen more than most get to."

You run a hand up the expanse of her thigh. "Savouring every moment," you hum into her skin.

"How romantic," she laughs. There are the smallest noises in the back of her throat that come with your touch as you caress her ass. Fingers into flesh, gentle pressure until you feel her roll against it. The perfect ass. The kind people would kill for.

You hear Xinyu gasp, the sharp breath: Yunjin's got her face pressed hard between Xinyu's spread thighs from behind. "Y'know—" your girl manages between moaning pants, "wasn't sure what to expect. This isn't how we usually do things." She's trying to hold the conversation together while Yunjin works to make a ruin of it. Xinyu braces herself against the glass. "Two girls at once is a pretty good score."

"I'd call it that," you hum in agreement as you pull Kazuha's delicate panties down her thighs.

"The two of you do this often?" Yunjin asks between licking Xinyu's dripping cunt and then slapping an ass cheek hard, enough to sting. It leaves an angry pink imprint on the flesh of her. Xinyu hisses, her fingers curling against the glass as she struggles to hold herself steady. Kazuha arches her spine to give you better access.

"See them all the time," Kazuha gently laughs, the breathiest moan breaking her sentence up, and she rocks herself back against you. "Taking someone home before my show even ends."

Xinyu's eyes open, and her vision is clear. She looks over her shoulder. Her hips are slow, riding the tongue that pushes deeper inside. Her voice is steady, and she's trying hard not to let Yunjin catch her completely, though the pressure on the glass betrays her. "Been keeping an eye on us, hm?"

You're dragging your tongue against Kazuha, circling around the wetness between her legs. You taste the sweet musk of her, and then you drag the flat of your tongue along the folds. She hums with a laugh that sounds a little breathier, more strained. Your tongue moves deeper, dipping into the parting of flesh, to taste the soft, velvet feel of her, the slick heat that comes with her arousal.

"You're not exactly subtle. Hard not to notice."

You push a little firmer, face into her ass, tasting the deepest parts of her and as she shifts on her knees, she lowers a hand to your hair and grabs a handful of it, keeping you where she needs you, fingers curled around the strands and the sting that follows. You hear the noise she makes, the way she shivers under your attention. It feels good.

"We have a fan," Xinyu jokes, but her laughter is cut off by a moan as Yunjin sucks harder on the soft folds between her legs. "Maybe two." There's the sound of skin hitting skin, and then a gasp. You know the sounds of Xinyu when her skin is slapped, or her flesh is bit.

Yunjin's hands roam her body freely. They're everywhere: touching, teasing. Her nails scratch and drag, and Xinyu groans when teeth meet her inner thigh again.

Kazuha is dripping against your chin now. Every lick sends another jolt up her spine, and every circle against her sensitive clit has her moaning. You squeeze her ass. She rocks forward. "Mhm..." Her lips part, and her jaw goes slack.

"What a pretty fucking mess," you hum against the wetness.

Xinyu takes Kazuha by the chin, pulling her into a kiss, and there's no way for anyone else to appreciate how beautiful they look against each other. Xinyu runs a hand up into Kazuha's hair, and her hips are still grinding, still pushing down onto Yunjin's mouth. "I'm gonna cum if she doesn't stop."

"Cum with me?" Kazuha says. It sounds desperate, almost needy in its demand: an urgency to share this. To do it together.

It doesn't sound like a bad idea at all.

"Not stopping," is the last thing Yunjin says as she continues to feast. You think she might have a point to prove, but if that means she wants to eat a pussy that good, then so be it. Your mouth works Kazuha faster: you spread the folds with your fingers and go to work on her clit. Your teeth catch the sensitive flesh, and she shakes with it, thighs threatening to tremble and tense, a strangled cry falling from her lips that she smothers by moaning it right into Xinyu's lips.

The taste of Kazuha on your tongue is something you'll never get tired of. Her sweet juice spills over, and when she arches, she cums harder, cries out louder until finally, her knees start to shake. That's how it starts, and with her orgasm comes Xinyu's too. There's a moment when the two are tangled together, when the sounds that fall out of them echo each other's. Their voices meet, their moans mix, and their tongues clash in their kiss, like they can't bear to keep any distance from one another. It's intimate, even amidst the other mouths on them. Even as Yunjin and you coax them through it. When it passes, the two cling onto each other, holding each other up, both of them trembling with the aftermath of a shared bliss.

Kazuha falls first: with a slow slump she sinks down to the floor, falling away from your hungry mouth and onto her hands and knees on the hardwood. She pants, heavy breaths, her head bowed, her hair in her eyes. There's a contented hum to the room as it all begins to settle down. Kazuha turns to you: there's that gorgeous smile, as she pushes back hair from her face. Her makeup is smudged. Her lipstick's a mess.

Xinyu follows after, but not without first stroking Yunjin's hair and kissing her, thanking her. Xinyu falls into Kazuha's embrace, the two of them holding each other up on the floor. Their heads are on one another's shoulders.

You lose your balance to a hard push. Your ass hitting the ground hard, sitting flat on the hardwood.

"Your turn." Yunjin grins, a hand pushing at the centre of your chest, keeping you from rising.

"You're going to do that right here?"

She grins at you. "Right now."

From here on out, it's just an inevitable, sordid decline into depravity. There is no message here, no moral, no meaning beyond the mindless, the reckless. There's nothing profound about the way Yunjin slips the other strap off her shoulder and pulls the material down to her waist to expose her braless chest. There's no wisdom in the way she moves into your lap, arms hooked over your shoulders.

No revelations come from how her bare pussy slides against the head of your cock. No matters of the world solved by the way you grope her tits in your palms. Nothing poetic about the sound that slips between her pretty red lips when you enter her cunt. This is just the way things are. This is barely a footnote on the night, not an epic climax. It's not a resolution or a denouement. Just another impending orgasm. You're just lucky you're at the centre of it all.

"Give us a show, won't you?" Xinyu murmurs.

Yunjin's got a smile on her lips that says, sure, sure, I can do that. She puts her hands on your chest, pinning you against the ground, her hips lifting and rolling as she slides you in and out of herself. "You think we should thank them? The people in the toilets?"

"Why's that?"

"Well, we'd have gone in there." Yunjin pushes her hips down hard onto you to punctuate her sentence. "We'd have fucked." She's taking control here: riding you in the centre of the hardwood floor. "You'd have cum." Another roll of the hips. "In me. On me." She gasps, moans. "That would have been that." It's all being said so nonchalantly. "But now, it's like this."

You laugh a little as you watch the woman ride you for all you're worth. "It's fitting," you say as you push yourself up from the floor, sitting face-to-face with the woman riding you. "Because you deserve so much more than a quickie on a dirty toilet." You wrap an arm around the small of her back. "And I'd much rather take my time with you." You buck your hips up into her, commandeering the rhythm as your pace starts to climb. You drive into her, pounding hard, as you bury your face between her breasts.

There are the smallest of noises that break free from Yunjin: the whines that get trapped behind her throat and the moans that slip between her teeth. She lets you handle her, and the only sound she makes is that soft whimpering and that sharp hiss when your fingers grip tight at her skin, and when her body slams down against your cock, you feel her tense and then shake around your shaft, squeezing and clamping down hard. She stifles her sounds.

"You good?" you whisper. She doesn't answer. At least, not at first. She gives herself a moment to catch her breath, as her nails drag across your shoulder blade.

She moans out a reply. "Oh yeah. So good. I'm so—" her words trail into a hiss of a breath.

You push her onto her back, pinning her to the ground as she laughs, arms above her head and eyes on yours, as you pick the pace back up again. "Show's still on," Xinyu says, somewhere on your peripheries.

"He fucks like a..." Kazuha whispers, unable to find the right words.

"I know," Xinyu laughs, before leaning in to kiss at Kazuha's jaw. "Doesn't he just?" The words are barely a whisper in her ear.

There's this shift in your periphery, Xinyu taking a place on the floor, her hand behind Kazuha's head as she spreads her legs again. It's rare you've found anyone who can keep up with Xinyu, but tonight's proven to be the exception. Kazuha's on all fours, leaning in for another taste. The sight has you groan.

Yunjin laughs at that, pulling your face back to hers, her legs wrapping around your hips, locking behind your back as she pulls you into her. "Don't get distracted now, honey," she says. Her fingertips trace along the muscles in your shoulders. Her lips curl up into a smile as her body shivers underneath yours, and you can feel it: that sweet clamping down of her pussy around your cock, and you know that she's close to coming again.

"Got an idea," you whisper.

"Wait, wait—" Yunjin claws at your back, holding you closer, tighter. "Just let me—" and you feel it. Her wet heat coating your length, pulsing. You roll her into it, feel the slick mess as her hips twist against the hardwood. She shakes, head thrown back, eyes fluttering shut, and lips parted. "There we go. Now, idea?"

"Come here." It's seamless, the way you move her around and behind Kazuha, positioning her face right against her girlfriend's ass. "Doesn't that look so good?"

"Beautiful," she says.

"Bet you eat that ass every chance you get, I know I would."

"Me too," Xinyu chimes.

"Yeah?" Yunjin says as she traces her hands along Kazuha's hips and curves, the lines that make her. She touches her thighs, and then she moves her fingertips to the cheeks of her ass. "Well." A kiss on the flesh of it. "You know. She does have such a pretty ass," she whispers.

"You both do," you reply as you mimic Yunjin's touches on her own ass.

She smiles into the skin, pressing more soft kisses along it. Her fingernails dig in gently as her mouth presses a little harder against it. Yunjin drags her nails over it, making marks. Yunjin moans softly, burying her mouth deeper between the cheeks. Kazuha arches with a moan of her own, rocking back. Yunjin sinks deeper, eating her girlfriend's ass like it was the last meal she'd have for days. The sounds are wet and hungry. Her moans are muffled as her mouth does its work. "God..." Yunjin groans into the flesh. Her hands roam up to Kazuha's sides, and she digs her fingers in and holds her, rocking the woman's hips against her face. It's like she can't get enough, and the taste must be so fucking intoxicating.

You're back inside Yunjin, the end of the train. She shivers again, moans again. Her nails drag up the small of Kazuha's back, marking the line of her spine with the gentle red trails. Her teeth scrape against Kazuha's skin, and she presses the pad of her tongue between her asscheeks again.

Yunjin's dress is still bunched at the waist, you bunch it and then hold it firm: it pulls tight across her toned stomach and gives you a handle, a grip to hold. You thrust into her, hard. She groans into Kazuha, and in turn, Kazuha gasps into Xinyu.

You hear Xinyu moaning, a note that arcs and echoes and then tapers off again. Kazuha is humming, soft and quiet, and Yunjin groans deeply. When the three of you all start to sync up, to fall into one steady beat, it feels right. It's everything falling together. Waves on the sand.

Xinyu is gasping; her head is back, and her throat is exposed, and her body is writhing with pleasure. She has her fingers buried in Kazuha's hair, clutching at it desperately, as she rocks back onto her tongue, onto her mouth, her hips bucking erratically. You're fucking Yunjin in slow and deep thrusts that have her moaning and shuddering, her fingers gripping hard into the dancer's thighs, and she's eating that ass with hunger, her own body responding to each motion of your hips in a ripple of a wave that runs up her spine, one after the next after the next.

This was never meant to last. There is no way.

You're on edge. Xinyu's on the precipice, and Kazuha is shaking.

There is no way, you say it again, and that's how your mind feels: unsteady, untethered, and it's in that haze that you slip your free hand to Yunjin's hip and guide it under her, have her press two fingers into the slickness that's so familiar, that she knows so well. You tell her. "Make your girlfriend cum." It's not an order. You've no authority here, in the mess that this has become, but she does, doesn't she: she's the only one who could get someone to sing for the world to see.

It's just seconds after when she slips the digits up inside that the woman is shaking, her back arching, and she's moaning in tandem with the way her hips roll back on you. Yunjin's fingers plunge deeper inside, and Kazuha shivers in delight. And then there's the smallest cry of a sound, and she's spilling wet onto the hand that keeps pushing her down. "You're so beautiful, Kazu," Yunjin murmurs, the words muffled by how she's buried her face between those cheeks, she's so damn close to her own climax. Kazuha is trembling, shaking. She moans out her release into Xinyu's wet cunt.

Thighs clamp hard on Kazuha's head. "Yes—" Xinyu cries out, as her hips rock upwards, bucking on Kazuha's mouth as she rides the orgasm hard, hands at her own breasts, groping greedily as her tongue drags her bottom lip under white, teeth bared: it's like a growl, almost, or a snarl, her eyes open wide, but staring right through everything.

And that's what pushes you over. You grab hard onto Yunjin's hip, the bunched fabric of her dress. Your fingernails drag against her flesh as you rut into her, hips thrusting again and again. She can't help the gasp, the sound, as your nails scrape deep into her thigh. She's so sensitive. The skin so soft and so receptive to touch. That noise turns into a moan. You know the sounds of her now. She doesn't need to tell you. You know. The pace of her breathing changes, and you hear the breathy little whimpers. When she gasps and when her cunt flutters, you can tell that she's close. And you know, when she cums because of the shuddering that runs up her body, the tensing of her muscles and that moaning that starts low and quiet before it grows, and then it explodes out of her in a sudden burst, like fireworks.

Xinyu's curling a finger. A beckon. You have a place to take, kneeling over her, and a finish that she demands.

"You know what to do, don't you?" she teases, a laugh on the tip of her tongue: that sharp and mischievous smirk, and the eyes that gleam in the light.

"I do."

She turns her gaze on the couple on the floor, the girls who've sunk onto one another. You can hear Yunjin laughing. Kazuha's fingers trail over her face, tracing the outline. "Go ahead," Xinyu says to you: not permission but expectation.

She presents her face as if it's a canvas and, yeah, sure, maybe you've done this more times than you can count, but you've still got your hand on your dick and the other on the back of Xinyu's neck, rubbing like it's the first time, and—

There it goes.

"God," Yunjin groans, "that's pretty."

Kazuha's contented hum agrees. They both reach a hand out to run their fingers across the mess of your cum, spreading it across the smooth expanse of skin, painting their art of Xinyu. There are no lines, no patterns, just the abstract swirl and the smearing that follows.

"Should take a photo," Kazuha suggests. "For posterity's sake."

"Too late," Yunjin mutters as she leans in to lick at the slick of white on the woman's cheek.

Soon, they're both at it, cleaning your girlfriend like she was the world's finest delicacy. And she basks in the attention. The centre of it. She's used to that kind of spotlight, though you don't think anyone shines as bright as her.

Yunjin takes a mouthful, opening to show the white on her tongue, and then her lips collide with Xinyu's. The cum is passed, tongue-to-tongue, a kiss shared. They share it with each other, a kiss that is truly sordid. You hear Kazuha's moan of excitement before you even realise what's happening: she joins in, making the kiss a trio. Three mouths passing your cum back and forth and the sound of their soft moans of delight.

It's hard to fathom that this is only the beginning. It's almost as difficult to comprehend just how far it's already gone, and the truth, as you see it, is that it doesn't need to make sense. Some nights are destined for excess. Nights like these. With a trio like this. You're not asking for any answers: all you're asking is that the four of you sink deeper, lose yourself to it.

The girls break the kiss, and Xinyu says, "You know, he has this walk-in shower. The big kind." You can hear the smirk in her tone like she knows just the kind of trouble she'll cause with her words.

"Yeah? I bet we could all fit in it," Kazuha hums, and there's that look of hers again, a little devious but mostly playful: a look of a girl who just wants to please everyone she comes into contact with. She can't seem to get enough, and she's just dying for a taste of more. Her hands slide along both women's waists, pulling them in a tighter embrace. Xinyu looks at you.

"You did always say—"

"I did."

"And, honestly, there's no better—"

"I know," you tell her, climbing to your feet and holding out a hand. "Come on."

[littelovelunette]

reader begging sevika to put a baby in them...

Shimmer And Silence G!P

Contains smut, breeding, biting, nipple play, impregnation, mentions of drug and addiction, blowjob

Sevika has always been hard headed and never gave into your desires too quickly but she never understood if it was for the best or not.

Shimmer often made her cranky and violent from time to time and being her wife, you didn't like that she made herself get high on the drug so damn often due to her loyalty and work for Silco.

It hurt, because despite wanting to settle down badly you could barely even imagine bringing the topic up to her because what if she didn't approve of your needs and had a Shimmer crashout.

Sighing to yourself, you made the bed as usual and got to doing the chores. You were used to your housewife routine by now.

You'd work at home and ensure she had a clean and cozy place to come back and rest, by the time she's done fighting for Zaun for the day.

You'd approach the topic again today and try to get her to understand that you wanted to settle down.

It had been 5 years you both were married together after all and in all honesty, whether Zaun got free or not life wouldn't pause so you both could settle and find happiness within the battles.

You finished all your work and took a shower, it was evening by then. Sevika was probably gambling after work, she'd be back soon. Maybe drunk, maybe not.

You put on one of your lacy white panties and the matching bra you bought along with it, slipping on one oversized t-shirt over the underwear, you didn't feel like wearing anything else for now.

The door opened and Sevika walked inside, “I'm home,” she called lazily, she didn't go to Last Drop which was a little strange.

Maybe she was just tired.

“Hi, baby,” you smiled and helped her take her poncho off, she walked to the bedroom after giving you a brief kiss, getting out of her clothes.

She laid down and you went over to her, sitting down beside her, “Baby, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Sevika gave you a little nod to acknowledge your words and gesture that she was listening.

“I think we should start trying for kids.”

The silence sunk in the air around both of you. “Did you just say what I think you just said? Or am I mishearing things already?” Sevika asked, her tone a little condescending.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and responded, “I just feel that if we don't, y'know, I'm not getting any younger… I might not be able to even have children. We don't know what the future holds for us,” you placed one hand over her bigger one, rubbing your thumb over the calloused skin, “The battle won't pause so we can have children, please, this is the one thing I really want.”

Sevika stared at you for a while before sighing, shaking her head. “I don't think this is a good idea.”

Exasperated, you shifted so you were now on her lap, “Baby, please,” you said, cupping her face in both your hands as you sighed a little feeling her bulge against your clothed heat.

“You're a tease, y'know that?” Sevika slapped your ass, grabbing the lump of flesh and squeezing, “Fine, I'll give it some thought.”

“No, you always say that and then your mind changes,” you moved a little so her growing bulge could rub against the soaked spot on your panties.

“Just say it, you get off on the thought of me breeding you,” Sevika whispered in your ear, instantly catching you off guard. She grabbed you by your frame and shoved you down on the bed.

“Look, you even dressed up all pretty tonight,” Sevika smirked, raising the hem of the shirt to check out the underwear you had on.

“I just, I thought maybe there'd be a possibility,” you said, face growing hotter with the second.

Sevika tsked, “Bullshit, I bet you're so wet by the thought of me filling you up, filthy little whore having semen dripping from your holes because you can't even hold all of my load inside.”

Sevika's rough, thick fingers rubbed over your pussy, as if readying it for her massive cock. She pulled her pants down just enough for her cock to slap up against her stomach, precum dripping from the tip of her impressively massive shaft.

“Oh my…” you couldn't help reaching forward and grabbing her shaft carefully in your hands.

Sevika placed a hand over her hip, the mechanical arm holding you in place as you started sucking on the tip of her cock.

“Want me to suck you off?” You asked, looking up at her with those pretty puppy eyes and she nodded, guiding your head as you deepthroated her cock with years of experience.

Sevika gasped, fingers entangling themselves in your hair as you sucked her harder. You had to hold on to each side of her muscular thighs to steady yourself as you bobbed your head, the head of her cock slamming into the back of your throat every now and then making you gag and saliva messily ran down your chin giving you a further lewd expression.

Sevika, on the other hand, was having the time of her life. She used your head roughly to get herself off, shooting ropes of cum in your throat, forcing you to swallow it down.

Sevika smirked down at you as you pulled back, catching your breath from the ordeal and then she gestured to you to get on the bed. As you laid down, she undressed you, taking your shirt off, unhooking your bra and lastly pulling your panties down your legs. Sevika was being extra slow just for the sole reason of riling you up and getting you even more wet.

“Sevika, please, put a baby in me,” you began, “I need you to impregnate me, please, I need it.”

“Mhm? Do you need it?” Sevika mocked cock already aligning against your hole and going in with a single thrust.

Your eyes rolled back as she bottomed out and pulled right back out before slamming it back in, hitting that on sweet spot that back you scratch on her back and bite her shoulder.

Sevika loved it when you bit her shoulder like that, it made you wilder and she loved rough sex. Sevika started slamming her huge shaft into you, grunting from the strain of her muscles every now and then, “Gonna fill you up, gonna fill you up to the brim,” she mumbled under her breath, the headboard of the bed slammed against the wall and you were sure the neighbours would likely come down with a noise complaint.

You buried the thought down, crying as Sevika bit your nipple, pulling it with her teeth, “C-C-cumming!” You stuttered and a gush of liquid went over her length, making her eyes close in bliss but she didn't stop there.

She continued ramming into your pussy, her dick throbbing, “Gonna fill you up, take it, slut.” You gasped as you felt the warm semen fill you up, moaning loudly, legs and hands falling back onto the mattress.

You were gonna be a mother soon.

[mrgoldmc26]

Jisoo's Late Night YG HQ Visit

Tags: Blowjob, facefucking, vaginal sex, facial and more...

Word Count: 5.1k

The following is a Fan Fiction and should be treated as such.

It was a dark and rainy late Friday night at the YG HQ, with pretty much everyone having already gone home. The building was almost empty, and it was quite dark. At times, it even felt like a ghost town, with how little noise there was.

I was in my office, just finishing some paperwork, the only illumination coming from the dim glow of my desk lamp and the soft light of my computer screen, when suddenly, a very angry-looking Jisoo came into the room, slamming the door shut. I was so surprised, I didn't know what to say. She was panting heavily, with an annoyed look on her face, and I wondered what could've possibly gotten her so mad.

"Whoa, Jisoo...what's wrong? Why do you look so angry?"

"Please tell me that the rumors aren't true."

"What rumors? I don't know what you are talking about."

"The rumors that you guys are going to release Lisa's new songs before mine."

"Uhm, nothing has been confirmed yet, but it’s looking likely this will be the case."

"That is bullshit! She has already released two songs before, and I haven't even had my solo debut."

"I'm sorry, Jisoo, but Lisa just simply draws in more numbers than you. She is more famous than you, and her songs are just better."

"Do you really want to compare your 'Flower' and 'All Eyes On Me' to Lisa's 'LALISA' and 'Money'?"

"Also, I'm pretty sure she has already showed you her unreleased song 'Rockstar'..."

"Not to mention, she has a feature on the cards with Rosalía. Where is your feature? Nobody wants to collaborate with you."

"This is so unfair. Jennie, Rosé and Lisa have already had their solo debut. It should be me now."

"I...I don't know what to tell you, Jisoo...you are just going to have to wait a little bit longer.

"How much longer?"

"Well, we have to put your releases far away from each other. So, if Lisa takes 2023, you will have to wait until next year."

"NEXT YEAR? We are in March!!!"

"Sorry. There isn't much I can do."

"Of course there is...you are the son of the CEO. He will listen to you. Please!"

It pained me to see Jisoo like this. She had this weird effect on me...everytime I looked at her, she would leave me breathless, unlike the other girls. They were all beautiful, but she was just on another level. Jisoo was right. I knew it was unfair, but I was just trying to do what's best for business.

"I can try to talk to him, but I doubt he'll change his mind. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going home." I said, standing up and getting ready to leave.

"No! That's not good enough!" She said, slamming her fist into my desk.

"You aren't going anywhere until I've had my solo debut."

"I know you have the power to make the decision yourself, so please...do the right thing."

"You are right...I do have the power to do it if I really wanted to."

"Then do it. Please, I will do anything. I'm tired of waiting for my opportunity."

"Anything, huh?"

"Yes. Anything."

"We'll see about that." I said, pulling down my pants alongside my boxers, letting them drop to the floor as my cock flopped out, already semi-hard.

Jisoo's eyes widened at the sight, and her jaw slightly dropped. Her reaction wasn't exactly what I was hoping for, and I was surprised by the fact that she wasn't on her knees immediately, taking my cock inside her mouth.

"I can't believe you would do such thing to me...you are disgusting."

"So what's it gonna be?"

"Not that, that's for sure. You can put that away, I'm going upstairs."

"Upstairs? To do what?"

"See if there is still any higher up I can talk to."

"For what?"

"To get you fired."

"You really think that is going to work? The only person that can fire me is my dad. Who do you think he is going to pick?"

"Me." She said, not sounding that convinced.

"Okay, let's say that by some miracle he picks your side, and he fires me...do you really think the next guy won't do the same thing? We are all trying to do what's best for business. They will always pick Lisa ahead of you."

"That's not true."

"Oh, it is...and let me tell you something else. Do you even know why they got their opportunities ahead of you in the first place?"

"No."

"They were in the same spot as you are right now. In front of me, with my cock out. And I will give you a little spoiler...they didn't even hesitate..."

"No...that...that can't be true. You are lying."

"I'm not lying, Jisoo. Why do you think you get the least lines out of all four of you?" I said, leaving Jisoo in disbelief, as she started putting the pieces together.

"I'm giving you the opportunity that you wanted. If you do this, I can make sure your songs are out in the next two weeks. You have my word."

"But please...go ahead. Go talk to my father. Get me fired. I'm sure it will work, and they will replace me with an ugly ass Korean guy with a tiny cock. I bet you will enjoy sucking on that instead..."

"So...once again I ask you...what's it gonna be? And before you answer, and to make the decision easier for you, I must tell you that my cock isn't even fully hard yet." I said, smirking from ear to ear, as I was confident she was going to take the deal.

Jisoo was completely rooted to the spot. I could tell she was thinking about it really hard, and contemplating her choices. This was a difficult situation for her, but the fact that she hadn't walked out the room told me she was considering the offer.

"Next two weeks?" She asked, and I let out the biggest grin I could muster.

"Next two weeks."

"This stays between you and me, okay?"

"You have my word. Now...get down on your knees."

I could tell by the disgusted look on her face that she didn't want to do this in the slightest and felt awful about herself, yet still, Jisoo kneeled before me, and looked at my dick before looking up at me.

"You have done this before, haven't you?"

"Yes. I know how to suck dick."

"Good."

Before I gave her the chance to do anything with my cock, I moved away from her and sat down on the couch, wanting to feel as comfortable as possible for what was about to happen. I saw Jisoo beginning to stand up, when I immediately stopped her in her tracks.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Stop! Stay down...I want you to crawl over to me."

"You are an asshole..."

"You want things to get done, you do as I say."

"Now stay on your knees and crawl over to me like the slut that you are."

"I am not a slut."

"Really? You are about to suck my dick to further your career, and you think that makes you any different from a slut?"

"Ugh, shut up. I hate you." She said, as she reluctantly began crawling towards me. Jisoo was so gorgeous, and watching her crawl towards me made my cock throb and swell even more.

As Jisoo finally made her way over to me, she hesitated for a moment, as her eyes were fixated on my cock.

"C'mon Jisoo. Don't act shy."

"Do you know what happened when I gave the same opportunity I am giving you right now to the likes of Jennie and Rosé?"

"No."

"They didn't even think twice. Both of them dove right in. They sucked my cock like their life depended on it, and, on both occasions, I fucked them afterwards."

"In fact, they enjoyed it so much, that they actually kept coming back for more, even after I had already promised to give them what they wanted."

"What about Lisa?"

"Lisa is a greedy slut. Only gets down on her knees for me when she wants something and never shows up after she got it."

"But with you...I believe that you are gonna be like Jennie and Rosé. You are gonna come back for more. I know you will. You can't resist."

"That's never going to happen. I'm only doing this once."

"We'll see about that..." I said, as Jisoo put her hand on the base of my shaft and gently held it steady, before she started stroking it slowly.

"Good girl. Stroke that cock, Jisoo."

"Make it nice and hard before you put it in your mouth."

As Jisoo continued her slow strokes, I could see that Jisoo's face was getting closer and closer to the tip of my dick. And soon, I felt her hot breath hitting my cock, followed by a very gentle lick on the tip.

"Go on. You can start sucking it. I know you are dying to."

"Shut up."

"C'mon. Stop teasing. Put that big cock in your mouth and suck it."

Jisoo shot a sharp look up at me, before she opened her mouth and enveloped the head of my cock between her lips. Her eyes widened a bit as she took more and more of my thick shaft into her mouth, and it wasn't long before she started bobbing her head.

"Ahhhh, good girlllll. See, that wasn't so difficult, now, was it?"

"Now go on and suck my dick like the slutty idol you are."

Jisoo's eyes were focused on the base of my dick, watching her own saliva coating the whole thing as her hand stroked it, and she sucked on the tip. She then began licking the underside of my shaft, from the base, all the way up to the tip, where she swirled her tongue for a moment, before taking more of my dick back in her mouth.

"Fuckkkk, Jisoo...you really enjoy doing this, don't you? Look at you, slobbering all over my cock. I wonder what your fans would say if they could see their favourite idol now."

"I bet they'd be surprised to see just how talented that mouth of yours really is."

"Can you please shut up while I'm doing this? I don't want to be here."

"You know you can leave, right? I'm not forcing you to be here."

"I know I can...but I will gain nothing if I do, so I'm just going to continue sucking your cock."

True to her word, Jisoo did exactly that. She went back to work on my cock, taking it deep inside her mouth, her lips stretching around the shaft. As she continued working her way down, inch by inch, I couldn't help but throw my head back and moan softly.

It didn't take long before I saw a string of spit dripping from the corner of her mouth, down her chin, and onto her top, as she kept sliding her lips up and down, going a bit deeper each time.

"You want to go solo, don't you Jisoo?"

"Mmhhhmmm." She hummed, nodding her head as she kept my cock inside her mouth, sucking and slurping lewdly, coating it with her warm saliva.

"Good. Because you are doing a great job, but you are never going to make me cum if you keep going at this pace."

"You are going to have to do a whole lot better than that if you want your solo debut."

"Show me how much you want to be a star." I said, and Jisoo immediately began rapidly sucking and slurping all over my cock, moving her head up and down, whilst she stroked the bottom of my shaft with one hand and played with my balls with the other.

"Oh my god, Jisoo!...yesssss."

"That is so much better, fuckkkk."

"Suck that dick, girl."

Jisoo was driving me completely insane with her blowjob skills, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes into the back of my head as I also put my arms on the back of the couch and leaned my head back, moaning in pleasure.

"Fuck, I love this. Don't stop, Jisoo. Keep sucking my big dick just like that."

"I bet this is the biggest cock you've ever sucked, isn't it?"

"I've sucked dicks bigger than yours." She said, before putting her lips around my cock and taking my length inside her mouth once again.

It was an answer that left me both intrigued and very pissed off, and so I decided to let out my frustration on her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pushing her head down until her lips reached the base.

"Take that whole fucking thing, Jisoo. All the way down your throat."

Jisoo moaned and gagged a bit as my cock hit the back of her throat. I kept pushing her head until she managed to swallow the entire thing, my balls resting on her chin. I held her there for a few seconds, and I could feel her swallowing around the tip of my cock.

Jisoo began coughing, and she tried to pull her head off my cock, but I didn't let her, and so I kept her head down. After a while, she stopped trying to fight it, and let me keep her head still as I began fucking her throat, causing her to choke and gag around me.

"Look at you...choking on my big dick just because you are an impatient little bitch."

"Jennie, Lisa and Rosé would be so proud of you right now if they walked in, watching you following in their footsteps."

I kept using Jisoo's mouth and throat like my personal fleshlight, constantly feeding her my big cock as my balls slapped her chin every time she took it all the way down. She was choking and gagging, saliva leaking out her mouth and rolling down her chin and neck.

After a few more thrusts, I finally released her head, and she pulled herself off my cock, with a small stream of saliva dripping from her mouth, onto my cock. She took deep breaths, and coughed a few times, before turning her attention back to my dick.

"Open your mouth." I said before I stood up, and Jisoo, much to my surprise, didn't put up a fight. She did as she was told, and stuck her tongue out. I didn't waste any second, and began slapping her tongue and face with my wet cock.

"Yeah, you like that, huh? You love being slapped in the face with my big dick, don't you?"

"Say it!"

"Say that you love being slapped in the face with my big fat cock."

"I love...I love being slapped...in the face with your big, fat cock." She said, still showing some signs of resentment.

"Yeah, you better."

"Keep sticking your tongue out, baby. You look so beautiful like this, Jisoo." I said, as I kept alternating between smacking her face and her tongue with my hard cock, using her face for my own pleasure.

I didn't know who to thank at that time. Either Jisoo, for her songs being so average, or my father, for giving me so much power in the company, but at the end of the day, I guess the only thing that mattered was that I had one of the most famous and beloved Korean singers in the world, down on her knees, taking a beating from my big dick.

After a few more smacks, I began rubbing my balls all over her face, and she started licking them, before she took them into her mouth and started sucking on them.

"There you go, Jisoo. Good girl. Suck on those balls."

"Take them both into your mouth. I know you can do it." I said, before sitting back down and letting Jisoo do her thing.

I felt Jisoo's warm and wet tongue licking all over my ballsack, before she opened her mouth wider, and slowly engulfed my balls, rolling her tongue around them, and sucking on them hungrily.

Jisoo was doing such a good job, that I actually started wondering if was enjoying it or not. If she was, she was doing a very good job at hiding it. Or maybe she was just that determined to get what she wanted. Whatever the case, the pleasure was still overwhelming, and the way her soft and wet tongue felt on my balls, and the suction of her mouth, was simply magical.

As if things couldn't get any better, she started stroking my cock whilst she feasted on my balls, without me having to tell her anything. I was turned on beyond belief, and I knew I couldn't resist much longer.

After a couple more minutes of Jisoo worshipping my balls, she finally let go and looked at me.

"Make me cum, Jisoo...I'm so close."

Jisoo took a deep breath before she opened her mouth even wide and went right back in, engulfing my whole dick once again, before she came back to the tip, and started rapidly sucking the head whilst she stroked my cock with her saliva covered hand, making her handjob incredibly slippery.

She then started deepthroating my cock by letting it go deeper and deeper into her mouth, until she was choking herself on my cock. Jisoo was desperate to make me cum so that she could leave my office and forget this ever happened.

Jisoo wasn't as cute as Rosé, as hot as Lisa, or even as sexy as Jennie. She was however, by far, the most beautiful out of the four. Nobody this beautiful should be on her knees, sucking a cock, and yet, here she was, slurping all over my cock to further her career.

"You are a good little cocksucker, aren't you?"

"I know I'm good at sucking dick. I don't need your approval."

"Well, if that's true, then you should have no problem getting me to cum, shouldn't you?"

"So do it. Make me cum and show me why you deserve to have it all."

Jisoo looked me right in the eyes, and then she got back to work. She put both hands around my cock and began stroking it in a corkscrew motion, whilst she was sucking the tip of my penis.

"Oh my god, that's it, girl. Do it faster."

"Suck my fucking cock until I cum down your throat."

She sped up her movements and soon enough, she was jacking me off at a very high pace, whilst her lips and tongue focused on the sensitive head. I could feel the familiar feeling of my climax coming, and I was so ready to give Jisoo what she deserved.

"Here it comes, Jisoo."

"Fucking take it." I said, holding the back of her head and shoving her down onto my cock, making her take it all the way down her throat, as my cum splattered inside her mouth.

"Fuuuuuck, yesssss. Open your mouth. Let me see all that cum."

Jisoo pulled her mouth off my cock and opened it, showing me her entire mouthful of cum. I couldn't believe how much jizz I had just shot inside her, and the sight of her holding it in her mouth was driving me wild.

"Swallow it, baby. Don't waste any drop, Jisoo."

Jisoo struggled a bit, but she managed to swallow all of my seed, without missing a drop. She opened her mouth to show me once again that it was empty, and I let out the biggest grin.

"Clean my cock. C'mon, I don't have all day."

She rolled her eyes, but she did as I said, and wrapped her lips around the tip of my dick, and sucked the remaining cum off of it.

"Good girl." I said, as I let her pull herself off of my cock. She licked her lips, and wiped her mouth, before standing up.

"So, do I have my solo debut?" She asked, looking rather displeased.

"No, not yet. Go over there and bend over the desk."

"What?! But you told me to make you cum."

"I did say that, but I didn't tell you how many times." I said, with a smirk on my face.

"You're a liar. Bastard!!!" Jisoo said, shouting at me whilst pointing her finger at me.

"Are you done?"

"Fuck you."

"I promise you'll get what you want if you make me cum one more time."

"Why should I trust you? You've already proven to me that you are a lying piece of shit."

"That's fair. But if you really want your solo debut, then you don't have a choice."

"Ughhh, fine. I hate you. I swear, you'll pay for this."

"You can say whatever you want, but I know you are secretly loving this."

"Just hurry up and fuck me so that we can end this."

"Very well...like I said...bend over the desk and spread those legs for me."

"Asshole..." She muttered under her breath, as she walked to the desk and bent over, sticking her ass out and spreading her legs wide, waiting for me.

I stood up from the couch, and made my way towards her, grabbing her by her waist.

"Mmmhh, what a nice view. I think this is the first time I have seen you in a position like this, Jisoo."

"Can we please not talk?"

"Aren't you excited to feel a big cock inside your tight little pussy, Jisoo?" I asked, to no avail, as Jisoo just ignored me.

I grabbed her leggings and panties, and pulled them both down, exposing her ass and wet pussy. She wasn't soaking wet, but I knew that it was only a matter of time.

I rubbed the tip of my dick all over her pussy lips, coating it with her juices. Her pussy felt amazing, and it wasn't long before I started getting hard again. I stroked my cock a few times until I was fully erect, and then I gave it a couple of smacks against her ass, and pussy.

"Beg for it, Jisoo. Beg me to fuck you."

"Please don't make me say it. I really don't want to."

"Say it, or the deal is off." I said, to which Jisoo just sighed.

"Please, fuck my pussy with your big cock!"

"Happy?"

"I am, and I will be even happier when I cum inside you."

"NO. Please don't. You can't cum inside me."

"My load is either ending up inside you or on your face. It's your choice."

"Is there really no other choice?"

"Nope."

Jisoo thought about it for quite a long time, as I just kept rubbing my cock against her slippery folds, waiting for an answer.

"Please don't cum inside me, okay? Pull out and finish on my face. Just...don't come inside."

"Don't worry, I won't. You can trust me. I am a trustworthy man." I said, and Jisoo almost burst into laughter.

"You are unbelievable..."

"I know I am. I get that a lot."

"Oh god...are you gonna fuck me or what?"

"Patience, Jisoo. Now...relax and let me fill your pretty little cunt." I said, as I pushed my hips forwards and slid the head inside, causing Jisoo to gasp. She was unbelievably tight, the way her walls hugged my dick was amazing, and it made me let out a grunt of satisfaction.

"This pussy is so fucking good, oh god."

As I finally slid into her, a rush of realization hit me—I'd done it. I’d been with all four members of Blackpink. The sheer thought of being one of the few guys, if not the first one in the whole world to do it was mind-blowing, and it made me so horny that I didn't hesitate for a second before pulling my hips back, and thrusting forward, burying my entire cock deep inside her pussy as I felt Jisoo’s tight warmth wrap around me.

Jisoo's pussy was so incredibly tight, that all I really wanted was to feel my cock rub against her walls very slowly. For several minutes, the room was almost completely silent, and the only noise you could hear was the sound of my moans every now and then, until Jisoo broke the silence.

"Ha..."

"What was that?"

"Har...Harder."

"Excuse me? I don't think I heard you correctly."

"Please.....fuck me harder."

No amount of words could describe how happy and satisfied I was upon hearing Jisoo's request, and I happily obliged. So, without any warning, I immediately started fucking her like an animal, pounding her from behind with deep and fast thrusts.

"Oh, FUCK. Yes."

"I knew you would come around."

"Oh, shut the fuck up and fuck me hard."

Jisoo became a moaning mess, and it wasn't long before my thrusts were in perfect sync with hers, as she would push her ass back every time I thrust into her, making our bodies meet midway.

"Does that cock feel good, Jisoo?"

"Mmmmhhhmmm. It feels so fucking good."

"You like having that big cock inside your tight little pussy?"

"Yes...I love having your big cock in my pussy."

"Are you going to let me come inside you?"

"No. I would still rather take your load on my face."

"Very well." I said. It was worth the shot, but I wasn't that upset. After all, I was enjoying the amazing sex that I was having with one of the most beautiful idols in the world.

I fucked her hard and fast, slamming into her so fast, her legs began trembling. The sound of skin slapping and heavy breathing was music to my ears, and I didn't think it could get any better than this, until Jisoo decided to put her right leg up on the desk, allowing me to hit deeper and go even harder.

"Oh my god, this has to be the best pussy I have ever fucked."

"Every guy I let fuck me always says the same thing."

"I bet they do." I said, as I kept hammering away, causing the desk to move a few inches.

"Fuck me! Oh, fuck yes! Harder!"

"Make me cum on your big cock."

"Who does this pussy belong to? Huh?"

"You, baby. My pussy belongs to you."

"Fuck, yesss. Give me that dick. I love this fucking cock."

I was taken by surprise by how eager and desperate Jisoo had suddenly become. Maybe it was because my very slow thrusts at the start made her horny and desperate for something more than just that, or maybe she was just saying that to get me to blow my load.

Either way, I was going to make sure to enjoy every second of it. I continued pumping into her, and it wasn't long before I saw her reach a hand between her legs, and begin fingering herself.

"Holy shit. That's fucking hot, Jisoo."

"Keep going. Don't stop fingering that pussy."

"Fuck, I love fucking your tight little pussy."

"I want you to make me cum on your dick, and then I want you to pull out and cum all over my face. Can you do that for me, baby?"

"Yes, baby. I'll cum all over your face. Just keep fingering yourself."

The room was filled with the smell of sex, and the sounds of moaning, heavy breathing, and the wet sound of my cock going in and out of Jisoo's pussy, and the sloppy noises that were made every time Jisoo would finger herself.

I grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked it back, pulling her head backwards. She screamed and moaned in pleasure, as I kept pounding her harder and harder, the desk shaking underneath us.

"Fuck, keep fucking me, baby."

"Your big dick feels so good inside me."

"Make me cum on your big cock."

"Yesssss. Keep doing that. Right there. I'm so close."

Jisoo's voice was shaky, and her breaths were becoming shorter and deeper with every one of my thrusts, and it wasn't long before her loud moans got muffled, as she bit her lip to prevent herself from screaming.

"Don't stop, Jisoo. Come for me."

"Fuccckkkk, yesss. Just like that. Make me cum."

Jisoo's body shook violently as she squirted all over the desk and floor, her orgasm making her pussy clamp down on my cock. Her loud moan echoed through the office, and the tightness of her pussy was just too much to handle.

"Get down on your knees, Jisoo. I'm gonna cum." I said, and Jisoo rapidly got down on her knees and took my dick in her hand.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." She said, and then she began jacking me off.

"Come on...make a mess on my face."

"Cover me in your cum."

"Paint my face with your warm cum."

"Fuck. Here it comes, Jisoo. Look at me."

"Open your mouth, girl."

"Let me see that tongue."

"Fucccck, Jisoo. Fuckkkkkk." I groaned as I came, my cum spraying all over Jisoo's pretty little face, coating her eyes, cheeks, nose, and forehead, as well as her lips and chin.

"Mmmhhh, yeah. Give me all that cum, baby." She said, opening her mouth and letting her tongue out, as she stroked my cock and aimed it towards her face, catching some spurts of cum in her mouth, and swallowing them.

"How does it taste?"

"Hmmm, surprisingly good."

"So...do I have my solo debut or not?"

"You do. I will announce the decision to the other members of the board tomorrow morning, and we should have all of the social media posts ready tomorrow as well."

"Oh my god, thank you so much." She said, giving me a hug.

"Yeah, yeah...now go get yourself cleaned up before you leave my office and the building."

"Nobody can see you like that."

"Yeah, I know."

"Thank you once again."

"Your welcome. And see you tomorrow, same time." I said, with a smirk on my face.

"Yeah right..." Jisoo said, just before closing the door behind her.

"Oh...what a night." I muttered under my breath, before taking a seat back down.

...

Just like I expected, Jisoo did indeed return the following day, even showing up a little earlier than the day before, at a time when there were actually quite a few people outside my office, working. After chatting a bit and swapping a couple of looks between us two, Jisoo crawled under my desk and fished out my cock, before taking it into her mouth.

The more days that passed, the earlier she arrived and the longer she stayed, as we fucked in every position imaginable inside my office. She even let me fuck her ass and cum inside her pussy.

Because of this job that I only got because of who my father was, not only was I rich and never had to worry about money for the rest of my life, but it also gave me the opportunity to fuck every girl of the hottest, most popular and most successful K-pop girl group of all time.

It was safe to say, that I truly had the best job in the world.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Promise Not To Fall In Love With Me

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader and a little bit of Billy Butcher x f!reader

Prompt: "I find him very attractive." /"I'm standing right here"/ "I know."

Requested by: @angrydragon90

Tropes: Fake Dating, Pining.

Summary:  When you first joined Butcher's team the last thing you expected was to develop a crush on him, but after two years of pining, you get a proposition from the last person you'd expect to care.

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just in case (I don't really think it is). Some cursing, Sexual innuendo, References to sex, Over glorification of a man's shirtless body (I'm not complaining) Reader is a little anxious/anxiety/socially awkward? Drug use/Drinking (Soldier Boy), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (He's a warning, we all know it and somehow still love him for it).

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

A/N: This is the third fic for my prompt celebration! This one was requested the incredible @angrydragon90 💗 Had to do something with a little bit of Valentine's Day spirit, but I'm going to be honest, this one turned into something that I didn't expect... let me know what y'all think. I also was thinking about @zepskies fic As Tradition Dictates for the more *ahem* gratuitous descriptions of Butcher 😉

Butcher’s muscles rippled over his bare chest and broad shoulders with every swing of the mighty axe down to the earth. Each strike of the axe against wood sent chips of bark flickering in the air around him like sparks. Sweat rolled down his sun kissed skin curving in the dips of his muscular torso, along the tensing muscles of his back, and through the dusting of hair on his torso, before disappearing into the waistband of the dark jeans hung low on his hips. 

Heat kisses your cheeks and darkens the skin the longer you watch him and you bite your lip hard to keep the appreciative sigh of the scene in front of you at bay. But it does little to stop your eyes which rove over the rugged man chopping wood. 

No man his age should look that good. 

Butcher props one of his feet up on the tree stump he’s been using as a table oblivious to your attention, shouldering the axe for a moment to glance at the stack of firewood he’d chopped, looking like a mighty warrior surveying his lands. 

Your mind starts to slip into a fantasy of a shirtless Butcher riding horseback across a desolate plain, his dark hair long, and a sword strapped to his saddle commanding a group of riders behind him to his every whim. Before scooping you up onto his saddle to ride with him, his strong arm wrapped around your waist, and his face buried in the soft skin of your neck, his rough whisper in your ear a grating caress as he-

You clear your throat, cheeks darkening crimson, and take in a shaky breath to dissipate the daydream that usually starred in several of your fantasies. The same ones that probably came from the romantasy book that you’d brought along on this trip and were too embarrassed to read when anyone else was awake.

He raises a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, shuffling it back through his hair that turns a chestnut brown in the light of the setting sun that flickered through the thick forest surrounding the small cabin you were all staying in.

Oh to be a drop of sweat.

You think mournfully, taking a long sip of your lemonade out of a brightly colored bendy straw, the same lemonade that you’d made in hopes of enticing Butcher over for a break.

It had worked, but only for twenty seconds.

Twenty glorious seconds that you got to bask in Butcher’s presence so close that you could smell the familiar cologne and the scent of sweat clinging to his skin while he drank the lemonade and you tried not to stare at his bare chest for too long. You hoped that Butcher thought the flush on your cheeks had everything to do with the heat and nothing to do with all the things you were imagining him doing to you. 

And then there had been an additional two seconds when Butcher smiled at you and said “Thanks poppet” in the swoon worthy accent of his that made your knees weak before he sauntered back over to the woodpile and you watched him go shamelessly. 

Hughie says something to Butcher you can’t hear, but it makes Butcher laugh. He throws his head back with a wide grin that makes you sigh to yourself again, hands tensing where they sit poised over the tangle of wires in your lap. 

You were supposed to be working on a new gadget to help grapple up buildings, one that you and Frenchie had designed together, but you were distracted by Butcher. 

You were always distracted by him. 

It had been three days since Butcher, Soldier Boy, Hughie, and you arrived at the cabin in the middle of nowhere after a mission went wrong. The specifics weren’t important, let’s just say that there was a miscommunication and what the four of you thought was a supe who could turn into a single locust, was actually able to turn into a swarm of locust so thick you couldn’t see an inch in front of your face. 

You had a sneaking suspicion that MM and Frenchie had something to do with the miscommunication, given how eager they had been to stay behind at headquarters and do paperwork, and the secretive smiles they had shared at the briefing before your team left.

But needless to say, none of you had been eager to live through a reenactment of the eighth plague and all decided to lay low to consider your options, while hoping the locust supe didn’t decimate all of the corn in the midwest.

You shudder remembering the crawl of the scratchy legs along your skin, the flapping of millions of wings like the beat of a drum, the crunch of locusts underfoot, and the low pitched hum of the swarm that vibrated so loud it made you feel your body shaking from the inside out. 

At this point I would have taken a swarm of guinea pigs.

The cabin wasn’t the worst place you’d stayed at in all the time you’d worked with Butcher. There was running water and several rooms inside including two bedrooms with lumpy pillows and mattresses with creaking springs, a living room with a sagging floral couch, and a threadbare kitchen with dusty cabinets and doors that fell off whenever someone tried to open one. 

Outside the cabin there was a small patch of wildflowers that fluttered in the strong wind that blew from the East, an overgrown garden where tomato plants, potatoes, and herbs grew without care, and a small front yard that was more of a grassy clearing. 

Sure the cabin had it’s quirks, but the real problem was that the four of you were trapped here in the middle of summer with a generator that only did so much for electricity, but had no air conditioning whatsoever, which meant it was cooler to sit outside on the porch than inside the sweltering cabin. 

Overall, it had been three days of nothing, but listening to Soldier Boy bitch about the lack of extracurricular activities, three days of nothing but hearing the soft chuckle under Hughie’s breath when he texted Annie, and three days of nothing but you lusting after a man who was twice your age chopping wood.

Why was he chopping wood when it was so hot and none of you needed it… You had no idea, but you figured that the universe was finally throwing you a bone because you got to watch him do it.

The porch was cooler than sitting inside. There were two creaky rocking chairs that faced the overgrown “front yard” that was more of a clearing and the breeze did weave under the overhang of the roof to wick the sweat that gathered at the back of your neck, but the problem was, it was impossible for you to feel anything but warm, especially with what was unfolding in front of you. 

The weather isn’t the only thing heating up.

You think to yourself watching Butcher lean down to pick up another piece of wood, admiring the way his worn dark jeans cup his muscular ass.

Fuck, I’m just as bad as Soldier Boy. 

The truth was, you’d been crushing on Butcher for the better part of two years since the moment the two of you met on your first day when you’d tripped and dropped the giant pile of blueprints you were carrying to your desk and he was the only one who stopped to help you pick them up. 

After Homelander had been stripped of his powers and exposed for the narcissistic psychotic freak he was, you’d started working at Supe Affairs, thinking that it was the perfect way for you to make a difference in a world reeling from the revelation. It had shaken quite a few people to know that the so-called heroes they looked up to were in fact just as crooked as a line drawn by an elephant on a tricycle. 

But you liked your job… sometimes. 

Sure, the pay sucked, the benefits were dismal and the hours were long, but you didn’t care about any of that. You felt like you were making a difference, using the engineering degree that your dad had insisted on for something other than trying to figure out how to build a bridge that withstood the force of a punch from someone as strong as Homelander. 

And you hadn’t meant to develop a crush on William Butcher of all people, you swore that each day to yourself, but it happened without warning. He was nice to you, he always had your back on missions, and sometimes when you were working on something after hours on a mission- like the gadget in your lap- Butcher would sit with you while everyone else slept, nursing a glass of whatever it was he had, and he always made you feel like a valued member of the team.

Yes, he might be a little rough around the edges, but you liked that about him, that he didn’t pull punches, rather he told it like it was. It was refreshing in the world you lived in when everyone else was so afraid of offending someone that they just kept their mouths shut. 

But the problem was that you were younger than him and a little inexperienced. 

Well… a lot inexperienced. You’d never been in a relationship before, never really done anything before because there wasn’t time when you were in school getting your degree, not to mention you had spent the last two years imagining yourself in a relationship with a man who didn’t know you existed.

That might be a little harsh, he knew you existed, obviously, but rather he didn’t see you as anything more than a teammate or at least like a little sister. The nicknames that he called you were all some form of “kiddo” or “poppet.” Nothing like the things you’d read about men calling the women they loved in books or heard in movies. 

The most experience you had in the realm of love and relationships was binge watching Sex and The City (you could quote it by heart), flipping through Cosmopolitan Magazine and other articles about love on the internet like they were opioids, and reading through romance novels reverently as if they held the secrets of the universe. 

Not to mention the draft of the romance novel on your computer… but you’d go to the grave before anyone ever saw that, and if they did see it you’d take them with you. 

Reading about relationships was easier than having one, at least that was what you told yourself to feel better. It also didn’t help that you’d seen two out of three sisters married with kids, with the third one getting married in a few weeks and you without even a shadow of a date for the wedding.

That meant you would be stuck at the awkward reject table again with your weird fourth cousin who always came on to you and tried to show you the rooster tattoo he had on his hip bone, your dad’s brother who cleaned his dentures in public after he ate and his wife who always asked you what you were “doing” with your life and curled her lip up in distaste no matter what you said, and the gaggle of their ungrateful children who were always sticky for some reason and chewed with their mouths open while spilling food all over the table like cavemen.

Sitting there with them made facing the locust supe more appealing.

But even with the pressure of trying to find someone, anyone to take, you couldn’t muster up the courage to tell Butcher how you felt about him. 

Butcher glances over as if he can sense you and you immediately drop your eyes to the bundle of gears and wires in your lap pretending to fiddle with something that doesn’t need to be fixed.

Yes, because that’s the way I’m going to win him over, by making absolutely no eye contact. Perfect, masterful. What can go wrong?

What the books, magazines, tv shows, and movies didn’t prepare you for was how to find the courage to talk to someone of the opposite sex without feeling like your tongue was going to drop out of your mouth or like you were going to throw up. 

You wait a few beats until you’re sure that he’s no longer looking at you before you raise your head to watch Butcher again. 

Ben chuckles under his breath where he sits beside you in the other rocking chair, leaning back with one of his hands behind his head. His muscles tense in the black t-shirt as he adjusts his arm. 

“What?” You ask him. 

He exhales a long and obnoxious cloud of foul smelling smoke from the joint he has in his hand. “I think you’re a hypocrite.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re out here eye-fucking that asshole and you yell at me for staring at you.” He chuckles with a wide smirk as he takes another hit from the blunt.

How can he smoke that? It’s like 100 degrees out here!

“I am not!” You reply as loudly as you dare, glancing over to Butcher to make sure that he didn’t hear Ben’s comment, anxiety prickling along the back of your neck, but he’s still talking to Hughie about something. “And you don’t just stare at me! You come up behind me like some gremlin out of hell, with your big hands and-”

“We both know how much you like the attention doll.”

“I do not!” Your cheeks flare bright red. 

The only downside to working on Butcher’s team was sitting directly next to you. When you found out that you’d be working with Soldier Boy, one of your dad’s favorite heroes, you were excited to meet him, and then you had and he turned into another giant disappointment. He was loud, brash, short-tempered, rude, and was always either ogling you, coming on to you, smoking something, or drinking. 

You supposed it could be worse. You didn’t hate him, and you got along with him, but he was always around. The plus side was that Ben was the one of the only people you didn’t have a hard time talking to.

Yes, he was attractive, but his particular lifestyle didn’t appeal to you and for that reason whatever nerves you had about talking to attractive men of the opposite sex evaporated when it came to Ben. 

It was unfortunate that such a skill was wasted on him of all people.

“I just-” You hesitate, eyes dropping back down to the grappling device in your lap, not sure why you’re about to admit this to Soldier Boy when you haven’t been able to admit it to anyone else. 

Probably because I’m sick of singing the line from Frozen “conceal don’t feel” over and over in my head.

“I find him extremely attractive.” You mumble on a shaky breath. 

“I’m sitting right here.” The frown in Ben’s voice is prominent, but it only makes you roll your eyes at him. 

“I know.” Your eyebrows furrow together. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Why are you looking at him when you could have my full attention.” He leans forward, dark hair falling forward into his eyes, mouth pulling up in a confident smirk. "I mean there's nothing else to fucking do, might as well do me."

Your cheeks flush with his words, but you tilt your head to the side to study him, eyes slipping over his rugged features. Tracing over the neatly trimmed beard on his cheeks, the brilliant green eyes that seemed to glow, the way his muscular body filled out his black t-shirt and blue jeans, the soft dusting of freckles that contrasted the hardness of the man he was flecked over his skin, and his full lips that are curved up in a sinful smirk that would make even the strongest woman crumble. 

But not you. Ben was… Ben. He was brash, obnoxious, handsy, impatient, and disrespectful. 

At least, that’s what you thought.

Sure you didn’t work with him often, but you believed you had a pretty good grasp on the kind of person he was. You did, right?

“You’re not my type Benny.” Your eyes flick back to the project in your lap, moving your fingers deftly through the wires of the internal mechanism.

Ben recoils at the use of his nickname, but he recovers with a low chuckle. “Don’t call me that and I’m everybody's type.”

“Not mine. I don’t like supes.”

You weren’t sure if that was 100% true. You liked Kimiko. What you meant to say was that you didn’t like supes like him. Supes that used his powers without care for the consequences, Supes like Homelander who didn’t give a shit who got hurt as long as the job was done. 

And you weren’t a supe, which meant that if you were with a supe there was always the possibility of you dying during sex or dying before you had sex in the first place. Your job also presented the possibility of you dying before you’d had sex, but you weren’t going to let that hold you back.

“But Butcher has-” Ben begins to say.

“Temporary powers. Not all the time.” You correct, unable to stop your eyes from drifting back over to where Butcher has begun to start swinging the axe again. “And look at him. Fuck, he’s over there like Paul Bunyan, rugged, chopping wood-” You sigh continuing to watch the man who probably has no idea you exist.

Ben rolls his eyes. “I could do that.”

You don’t pay Ben any attention, because Butcher is bending over again and you bite the inside of your cheek hard. 

Ben sits there for another few beats watching you watch Butcher. The wind chimes that hang above your heads jingle merrily as the breeze picks up once more bringing the smell of the wild flowers and wet earth from the forest surrounding the cabin. 

“You know I could help you.” Ben says slowly.

Your eyes flick back to Ben from Butcher in confusion. “Help me?”

What is he talking about? Does he think he can figure out how to fix the grapple gun? The other day he couldn’t figure out how to open the automatic trunk of a car and he just ripped the trunk door right off.

“Get him.” Ben nods his head in Butcher’s direction, but you’re still confused.

“How?”

And why? Why does Soldier Boy want to help me of all people?

“Well, I could help you make him jealous.” Ben leans towards you, his eyes sweeping once over you as he does, lingering too long on your chest and the edge of the jean shorts you were wearing.

“And how would you do that?”

“Well for starters you could come sit on my lap baby, see how you like it.” Ben winks. “Take me for a little ride.”

“Pass.” You roll your eyes. 

“Oh I see you want to have a more advanced lesson.” He smiles, scooting his chair towards yours, a dull scrape of wood on wood, so now his knee is touching yours. “He could catch an earful of us tonight. I’d be happy to fuck you. It’d give me something to do.” Ben takes another hit of his joint, the smoke making you scrunch your nose in distaste, while he gives you an appreciative once over. “Fuck knows the only entertainment I’ve had for three fucking days is my hand and it would be good to have a nice tight-“

“No thanks.” You interrupt, face flushing when you imagine what he was about to say.

Ben stiffens in surprise. “What?”

“I’m good.” You shrug. “I’m gonna get him the old fashioned way.”

The same old fashioned way that I’ve been using for the past two years and had absolutely no results.

“And what way is that? Pining after him and hoping that one day he’ll finally notice you?” Ben scoffs. “I can see how well that’s working for you doll-face. How long have you been working with him?”

“Two years-”

“Fuck, two years?” Ben sputters. “You should just tell him that you want him to fuck you.” 

“That won’t work.”

Ben’s face scrunches in confusion, the joint clasped in between his thumb and forefinger forgotten. “Why the hell not?”

“Because-” You glance down at your hands, thumb running along the jagged edge of the grappling hook slightly embarrassed. The last thing you wanted to tell Soldier Boy was that you were a virgin. The guy would mock you endlessly. “Because I’m younger than him and he’s-”

He’s experienced. 

“So? You think that he hasn’t thought about fucking you?” Ben takes a long sip from the whiskey sitting beside his chair. “He’d be lucky to have a little piece like you.”

You blink in surprise. It was the closest to a compliment that Ben had ever given you. He did tend to compliment your figure whenever you were around, but you usually ignored that because he did that to everyone. 

Truthfully, the thought of dating Ben didn’t appeal to you at all, but the thought of using him to make Butcher jealous was not a terrible one. And at this point, you didn’t have anything to lose. 

Well… except THAT, but you wanted it to be special, at least that’s what you’d always told yourself.

You sigh, a little frustrated, watching Butcher out of the corner of your eye swing the axe in a glorious arch to the earth. You weren’t sure how to get Butcher’s attention. You’d tried the usual things…

Leaving the room as soon as he walked in to avoid a conversation.

Gone completely mute when he asked you a question.

Pretended you didn’t see him whenever he walked into a room.

Tried to bring him coffee, but then chickened out and drank his and yours and then immediately had to go to the bathroom to avoid shitting your pants while having heart palpitations.

Basically the social anxiety was working wonders on the office romance you wanted so badly. 

“Ben?” You say tentatively, hands tightening on the contraption in your lap. At this rate you were never going to fix it and Butcher was going to have to figure out how to fly. 

“Yes, gorgeous?” Ben raises an eyebrow. The blunt is between his lips now and he’s looking at you curiously.

“If we did pretend to be…” You swallow nervously. 

“Fucking?” He leans forward eagerly, eyes twinkling with interest.

Well… I’ve never understood what it meant when someone wrote “his eyes darkened” until this very moment. 

“Dating” You correct holding up a finger.

Does his mind always go to the gutter?

You remember everything you think you know about Ben.

Yes. Yes it does.

Ben leans back with a frown. “I don’t date.”

“Well it wouldn’t be real! You’d just be helping me make him jealous and it would be nice to have a little practice maybe…”

“Practice?” He looks confused. It wasn’t the first time he had in this conversation or within the last five minutes, but like hell you were about to admit without at least one drink to Soldier Boy the extent of your dating life.

“Yeah. I’m not the best at talking to people or-”

“You’re talking just fine right now.”

“You’re different.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you annoy me and I don’t know you’re easier to talk to for some reason!” 

“Thanks.” Ben says dryly. 

By now all the anxious energy has begun to pop and crackle against your skin at the thought of what the two of you could be doing and at the thought of you two actually pulling this off and you having a shot with Butcher. Not just a shot in hell, a real shot.

“But if you’re serious about helping me get him-“ You continue.

“I was.”

It was odd that he was the one who had suggested this in the first place, and even weirder that he didn’t seem hesitant at all to be doing this. 

Maybe he thinks that we’re going to have sex. Your throat tightened at the thought, eyes widening, your nerve endings electrifying with anxiety. Oh holy fuck what if he thinks that if we do this he’ll get to do whatever he wants to me?

You clear your throat, heart beating just a little bit harder in your chest. The entire situation was making you regret the extra cup of coffee you had this morning. “What exactly would I have to do?” You don’t recognize your voice. It comes out a little more wobbly and just a little more tentative than it was. 

You didn’t know what Ben was expecting you to do and you didn’t want to say yes, only for him to force you into sleeping with him like he’d suggested earlier, the most you'd thought the two of you would do is just make out a little-

Oh holy fuck then we’d have to kiss and I don’t know if I’m a good kisser and he’s definitely kissed more than one person not to mention he’s-

The thought made you flush to the roots of your hair. 

Ben hesitates, eyeing you and you wonder if he can hear the deranged monologue inside your head or if he can hear just how hard your heart was beating. You hoped not. 

“You wouldn’t have to do anything, doll. I’m not going to force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” There’s something genuine in his eyes when he answers your question, something that you’d never noticed before. 

Your mouth drops open in surprise. 

It wasn’t that you believed that Ben was that kind of man, but rather that what he just said to you might have been the most caring thing that he’d ever uttered in front of you. He was the last person that you’d expect to care about someone being uncomfortable or care if someone else was okay with everything that was happening in the bedroom.

Maybe I don’t know him as well as I think I do.

In all honesty you only knew the way Ben acted, you didn’t know anything about his life. The man kept his cards closer to his chest than a well-seasoned card player and his poker face, forget it. You couldn’t crack that combination even if you wanted to. 

Everything else you'd heard about him was through the grapevine of gossip at work. None of it was first hand.

Ben sighs and shakes his head at you as if he’s a little annoyed with himself for saying that out loud. “But I still think it would be easier if you just told him that you wanted him to fuck you. Would’ve worked on me.”

“I’m not good at that sort of thing.”

And it was true. You could take down a target, diffuse a bomb in less than ten seconds with a thin mint and a bobby pin, but saying something out loud like that to something else made you feel nauseous.

Ben hesitates again and in his hesitation the anxiety and embarrassment starts to come soaring back into your chest.

You were asking Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy, to pretend to date you so Billy Butcher would fall in love with you. 

Well kids, this must be what rock bottom feels like. I might as well just pray that the locusts come back to take me away. 

“Fine.” Ben states. 

“Really?” Your eyes widen.

He shrugs, but doesn’t answer.

“We’d have to have rules.” You blurt, and Ben makes a face.

“Rules? Never been too good with those, Sweetheart.”

“And I’d need you to promise that you wouldn’t-” 

You lose your train of thought in the wind chimes that rattle over your head and the sound of Butcher’s laugh.

“Wouldn’t?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Lose control.”

Honestly, sometimes you were a little afraid of Ben. You’d never say that out loud or admit it, but he was stronger than Homelander.

You knew Ben's reputation around the office- heard the hushed whispers of the women in the break room who said he was the best fuck of their lives, heard the horror stories of what he did to his old team, and had seen first hand what his temper was like. You also knew about his powers and worried that Ben might have a little bit of a control problem or at the very least anger management issues.

“I’m not going to fucking hurt you if that’s what you think.” Ben growls, his eyes narrowing at your insinuation. “I’m not some fucking monster, doll.”

“I don’t think you’re a monster Ben.” You sigh. “I just- I don’t have powers and you’re kinda strong and I-.” You take a deep breath to steady your voice. “I don’t think that you’d hurt me on purpose. But-”

Ben’s hand comes out to touch your chin, tilting your gaze up to him and stopping the bicycle of babbling you were about to ride around the block. Your eyes widen slightly with the contact, you weren’t used to people touching you, certainly not like this. 

Keep it together… 

“I wouldn’t hurt you by accident either.” Ben’s green eyes are focused on yours, and you can see just a sliver of emotion behind them that you can’t identify. “But if we’re going to do this you gotta promise me one thing.”

“What?” Your voice comes out like a squeak.

“You’ve got to promise not to fall in love with me.” He sends you a saucy wink that makes you want to punch the strongest man on earth, instead you settle for pushing him back from you.

But you’re not prepared for the wave of disappointment you feel when he lets go of your chin. 

“I’m not in any danger of that Benny. You’re not half as smooth as you think you are.” You start to lean back in your chair, but Ben reaches out to grab your wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle, the contact burning through your body, as he pulls you forward, so close you can smell his cologne. Somehow it's something that smells classic and modern at the same time, a hint of spice that tickles your nose and makes your throat tight. 

His voice lowers into a purr that vibrates through his chest, his next words expelled on a warm breath that weaves through the air between the two of you. 

“Sweetheart, you’re about to find out just how smooth I am.” 

What have I gotten myself into?

A/N: Again, not what I was expecting, but I really love this one y'all and I probably laughed way too hard at bits when I was writing it.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my taglist please let me know!

Taglist

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @waynes-multiverse

@jollyhunter

[wholoveseggs]

heyyyyy girllll, ik that you already wrote a series about a professor and student, but could you pleaseeeee make a one shot with a virgin reader🥹🥹🥹

Angel

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!vampire!Reader} Newly turned and overwhelmed, one hunger refuses to be ignored. You need guidance, and who better to teach you than Elijah Mikaelson?

♡♡ You didn't specify what kind of teacher.... so I took some creative libertiessss (DON'T BANG YOUR TEACHERS, OKAY?? NOT A WISE THING TO DO(EXCEPT IF THEY ARE A MIKAELSON))~ ♡♡

5k words {whoops} - Warnings: smuutttt, vampire!reader, virgin!reader, first time, a brief Hayley cameo, blood drinking, riding, reader knows what she wants, Elijah talking you through it, teaching, oral sex (f!receiving), feeding during sex, possessive but tender Elijah && a pet name...

"So, you're just going to waltz in and ask him?" Hayley asked, shocked at how blunt you were being.

"Well, yeah," you replied nonchalantly. "How else am I supposed to do it?"

"I don't know," she said, "maybe try being more subtle?"

Hayley looked at you like you'd lost your mind, but you just shrugged, unbothered. The constant hum of your heightened emotions had been driving you insane for days. Hunger, anger, lust. Mostly lust. And no matter how much you tried to control it, you couldn’t shake the gnawing, primal need clawing at you from the inside out.

"Subtlety is overrated," you said, crossing your arms. "I don’t think Elijah would appreciate me batting my lashes and giggling like a schoolgirl. He values directness."

"Yeah, but there's direct, and then there's direct," Hayley shot back, looking equally horrified and intrigued. "I mean, do you even know if he's into you?"

You paused, considering. Elijah was your mentor; your teacher when it came to all things vampire. He was always so composed, so controlled, but there was something in the way he looked at you. He was always assessing, always holding himself back. You'd caught him staring once or twice when he thought you weren’t looking. And there was that one time he murmured something in that low, velvety voice of his about lust being a difficult thing for new vampires to control…

"I think he is," you said simply.

"Okay, but what if he says no?" Hayley pressed.

You smirked, enjoying her mild jealousy. "Then I’ll go take an ice bath and reevaluate my choices."

Hayley groaned, rubbing her temples. "This is the most unhinged plan I’ve ever heard. And I've lived in this house with Klaus."

"Wish me luck," you said with a wink before striding down the hall toward Elijah’s study.

Your hands clenched at your sides as you stopped outside his door, suddenly hyper aware of how fast your heart was racing. Vampire senses made everything feel more. More intense, more overwhelming. But there was no turning back now. You wanted this. No. You needed this.

Taking a breath, you knocked once before pushing the door open.

Elijah sat at his desk, a glass of bourbon in one hand, an old book in the other. He barely glanced up as he said, “I take it this is a social visit?”

You stepped inside, shutting the door behind you. “No, it’s not... well... actually...”

Finally, his dark eyes lifted to meet yours, curiosity flickering across his face. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You exhaled sharply and walked toward him, each step deliberate. "I want you to teach me something new... Something important."

His brow arched. "What is it that you think you're lacking in your education?"

You stopped in front of his desk, trying not to focus on the way his shirt clung to his toned chest. "I don't need any more history lessons, or lectures on self-control. I know all of that."

"Oh really? You've been a vampire for less than a month, and already you know everything I could possibly teach you?" he asked, an amused smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Not everything," you said, leaning forward to brace yourself on his desk. "I still have lots to learn and there's one lesson I'm hoping you can teach me, and I'd like you to start right now."

His eyes narrowed, darting to your lips for a brief moment before snapping back to yours. "And what, pray tell, might that be?"

You swallowed, nerves clashing with the hunger and lust burning inside you. Then, with as much confidence as you could muster, you blurted it out.

"I want you to teach me how to have sex."

For the first time since you had met him, Elijah Mikaelson actually looked stunned. The glass in his hand halted halfway to his lips, eyes widening fractionally before his expression resumed its usual cool facade. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I beg your pardon?"

You bit your lip, cheeks flushing as you replayed the words in your head, suddenly embarrassed. But no, you had decided, you would be direct.

"Before I was turned... I, uh, I didn't get a chance to, you know, lose my virginity. So, I don't know what I'm doing... And I'm worried if I just pick up a random guy, I might kill him..." You spoke quickly, already regretting opening your mouth. What was wrong with you?

"Are you propositioning me, my dear?"

Something like warm amusement flickered in his eyes, and you relaxed a little, straightening. You expected pity, the way Hayley had looked at you. Judgment. Anything but the glint in Elijah's eyes as they slowly raked down your body, gaze sharpening with interest as it darkened.

A giddy flutter rose in your chest, and you licked your lips.

"Yes."

Silence fell over the room as Elijah set his drink down and stood, walking slowly toward you, his eyes never leaving yours. When he finally stopped, his chest was nearly brushing yours, the proximity making your head spin.

"Tell me, why have you chosen me for this particular lesson?" he murmured, fingers reaching up to trace the line of your jaw.

A jolt of heat ran through you, and you tried to remember how to speak. "Well, you're, uh, a noble gentleman... I trust you."

He chuckled. "I try my best. But are you sure that's the only reason?"

"Um..." You trailed off, his fingers slipping under your chin and tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"Be honest, angel,"

"Because..." you said, a blush creeping across your cheeks. Angel? He just called you angel.

"Because... I think about you, all the time," you admitted. "Ever since I became a vampire. It's like every feeling is dialed up to eleven. Except my desire. It's a thousand times worse than that, and I can't make it stop. It's torture. And I know it's inappropriate, but..."

"It's not," Elijah interjected, his fingers sliding down the length of your throat. "We can't help what we want, can we?"

You shook your head.

"What is it that you want, my little vampire?"

You swallowed, your eyes flickering to his lips. "I want to kiss you."

His lips curved into a smirk, and then his mouth was on yours, firm but gentle. His lips moved slowly, expertly, and your entire body flooded with warmth, your legs suddenly unsteady. He felt so good. Smelled so good.

Your arms went around his neck, pulling him closer. You had kissed boys before, but it was nothing like this. This was an out-of-body experience, like the whole world was melting away and there was only the two of you.

He moved away far too soon, and a small sound of protest left your lips.

"So eager," he said, tipping your chin up to look at him. "Is that all you want? A kiss?"

You shook your head, a small, embarrassed laugh escaping. "No."

He smiled, his hands moving down your waist to your hips, gripping lightly, pulling you flush against him. "Our bodies have an enhanced awareness of what they want, what they need." He paused, pressing a kiss to the column of your throat, then, so quietly it was almost inaudible,  "Humans have sex drives, but ours..."

"Are stronger," you finished in a raspy voice. "More Intense."

Elijah hummed. "Very."

"So, you'll teach me then?"

He chuckled softly, lifting his head to capture your lips in another slow, deep kiss. "Teaching isn't the word I would use,"

A blush spread from your chest to your cheeks. You nodded, wanting more than anything for him to tumble you into bed and show you all the things his thousand years had taught him. He was patient, though, and the way he was kissing you now was driving you mad.

He lifted you effortlessly, and you let out a soft gasp. Before you could blink, you were in his bedroom, him pressing your back into the mattress, his hands everywhere. His lips trailed down the column of your throat, tongue darting out to taste the soft skin.Your hands curling into his chest, nails digging through the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't rip my shirt," he murmured against your neck, and you giggled.

"Sorry,"

"You will be," he said, pulling back to give you a dark smile.

A thrill of anticipation ran through you, and you pushed him onto his back, climbing onto his lap, the heat between your legs throbbing with need. Your lips crashed together again, more frantic this time, more desperate. Teeth clashed, biting, nibbling, sucking. All the while, a heady ache grew between your thighs, and when he cupped your ass, pulling your hips flush against his, you could feel his own primal need straining against his trousers.

You moaned into his mouth, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, needing more. "Please, Elijah," you murmured, sighing at the soft kisses he began to trail along your throat. "I need you."

"Patience, angel,"

With a frustrated groan, you slumped against him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His scent surrounded you. Aftershave, musk, something distinctly masculine and earthy. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment. Then you heard it, his blood, pumping steadily beneath his skin, calling to you. You wanted to sink your fangs into him, taste his hot blood coursing over your tongue.

You felt your vampire nature take over, veins protruding beneath your eyes, fangs extending. Instinct urged you forward, pressing soft kisses to his neck before nuzzling his warm skin, hunger gnawing inside your bones.

He chuckled at the gentle, kitten-like kisses you pressed to his neck, your fangs scratching his skin. He pulled your head away, urging your eyes to meet his as a glimmer of amusement danced in his. "So bloodthirsty,"

"C'mon, please." you whined, leaning in and kissing him deeply, trying to press your core against his bulge. You grunted, bucking your hips, starting a rhythm. Fuck he smelled so good, he felt so good, every fiber of your being yearning for his touch.

Your fangs brushed against his lower lip, drawing blood. He hissed, kissing you harder. His fingers tightened against the back of your head as he angled your face to give himself more access. You mewled as your hands clung to his chest, feeling his cock stiff against your stomach was doing terrible things to you.

"Look at me."

You obeyed instantly, his compulsion bringing you to a screeching halt. You whimpered, panting and needy. As his bloody lip healed, a single drop trickled down his chin, and you shivered, licking your lips as you followed the droplet's path with your eyes.

"Relax," he cooed, smirking as he wiped it away. "Don't you worry. I'm going to give you exactly what you want. But," he added in a darker tone, "only when I say."

Swallowing hard, you nodded, bracing your hands against his shoulders. "Okay,"

"Good girl,"

A rush of arousal shot through you at the praise, and a needy whine escaped your lips.

He smirked. "Oh, you like that? Being told what a good girl you are?"

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and his smirk widened. 

"Take your clothes off for me," he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

You quickly scrambled off his lap, flushed with heat as you stripped, pulling your dress over your head, watching Elijah watch you. His eyes tracked your every move, drinking you in as your bra came off. Then, with your shaky fingers, you hooked your thumbs under your panties, slowly peeling them down your thighs. Finally, you stood in front of him, naked, exposed, trembling, heart pounding in your ears.

"My, you're even lovelier than I'd imagined,"

You ached to feel him, craving more, more, more. A spark flashed in his gaze. You wanted him. Everything about this felt right. Every part of him wanted you too. His restraint was nothing but a mask, all for your benefit. You knew that once he lost his control, he would not be the patient and kind teacher you knew so well. Underneath that carefully crafted image was a beast, a creature of immense power, a force to be reckoned with.

"What's wrong, my dear?"

His voice pulled you from your thoughts, your eyes flitting up to his. A faint smirk played on his lips as his hand slid to your hip, dragging you closer. "Can't remember how to speak?"

You shook your head, unable to form a coherent thought.

"That's alright," he said, kissing his way down the side of your neck. “tell me if it gets too overwhelming,”

You nodded, inhaling sharply as your bare skin brushed his, your hands flat against his broad chest. His lips found yours again, deepening the kiss as his tongue parted your lips. Something was happening to you, this unfamiliar feeling. You could tell something big was building inside, a need, and Elijah was unravelling it, unraveling you.

He chuckled against your lips as he cupped your face, slowly pulling back just enough to gaze at you with those deep, brown eyes of his. He took your hand and sat you down at the edge of the bed.

"Don't be shy," he whispered. "It's just me."

You gulped. Just Elijah. Sure. How reassuring.

The room felt like it was spinning around you, but as you looked at him, everything steadied. He took a step back, unbuttoning his collar slowly. You wanted him. You could barely stop yourself from reaching for his belt, your hunger overriding every thought and impulse. You mustered all the self-control Elijah had taught you, forcing yourself to sit still as your thighs clenched together, the urge to relieve yourself building and building.

Elijah tilted his head, enjoying how desperate you were becoming, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as his shirt came undone. He tossed the article of clothing on the ground.

Your eyes drifted over his bare chest, his nice arms and toned torso. A breath escaped you when your eyes moved down to see the defined outline of his cock against the material of his slacks. He was big, so big, so thick, so—

Your face went hot. A jolt of reality hitting you, everything felt so much, all at once. The hunger for his touch, for his taste. The way he smelled so fucking good. Everything was amplified, your every sense alive and thrumming. You bit your lip and watched as his slacks hit the ground and he stepped out of them, your mouth practically salivating.

Elijah was fucking stunning, and all yours.

He smiled and placed one of his knees on the edge of the bed. The movement made it bounce ever so slightly, and your eyes widened, your mouth opened, but the only sound you could manage was a squeak.

He reached for you, pulling you close and capturing your lips in his again. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to surrendered to him, letting yourself feel him, really feel him.

"This is going to feel very intense for you," he murmured in the small space between your mouths, "your emotions and needs heightened. All your senses are in overdrive."

A sigh left you as you opened your eyes again to meet his, dark and full of promises you never dreamed of before. His eyes, they made you tremble, they were so warm, so intense. And when they dropped to your mouth, the heat pooling between your thighs intensified tenfold.

"Don't feed until I say so, you understand?" He pulled back slightly, tilting his head and giving you a warning look, making sure he had your complete attention.

You swallowed and nodded. "I won't,"

"Good girl," he hummed before dipping down to kiss your lips.

His kiss was more possessive, his touch more demanding. Elijah pushed you back into the bed, your hair sprawling around you as he kissed you senseless. His lips left yours and kissed down your jawline, down your neck, to the swell of your breasts. You moaned when you felt his hot, wet mouth close around your nipple, your body thrumming when he nipped your flesh between his teeth, giving the other the same treatment.

The throbbing was intense and so damn good. His mouth was magic as he kissed a path down your stomach, making you feel like your entire being was ablaze, your desire burning deep. You writhed, his lips curling into a smile against your skin. He could probably hear how hard your heart was pounding. He was driving you mad with need.

"Please, Elijah," you breathed, squirming beneath him as his mouth continued to work over you, down your abdomen.

A deep, husky chuckle rumbled in his chest as his lips pressed to the sensitive skin on your inner thighs, teasing, tantalizing you with each featherlight kiss. Your breathing picked up, his mouth so close to where you wanted him. Both of your hands tangled in his dark hair, nerves and anticipation waring in your mind.

His hands came up, parting your knees slowly. He hooked your legs over his broad shoulders, widening his tongue and lapping you from your core to your clit, giving the tiny bud a teasing swirl of his tongue. The moan you let out was low and full of lust, a kind of lust you'd never felt before. Magnified, overwhelming, intoxicating.

"Relax, angel," His lips brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves with each word, making your heart jump to your throat, making it almost hard to breathe.

Your hips rolled forward, pushing you against his lips, seeking more pressure, more friction. You felt so wanton, so desperate, so needy. You felt him smile against your core as his mouth engulfed you, his tongue swirling and sucking as he slowly pressed his middle finger inside you.

Your whole body stiffened and clenched around him as your mouth fell open. A string of low and soft curses fell from your lips, and your back arched against his bed as he pumped his finger in and out.

"Elijah, oh, oh fuck," your voice broke as another moan escaped you when his tongue lapped at your clit. He curled his finger up inside you, sending a ripple of heat straight up your spine.

You tipped over the edge instantly, a white-hot heat engulfing you. You came in waves, your eyes clenched shut as your head fell back into the plush comforter beneath you. Elijah didn't stop his movements, working you through your climax and beyond until your hips stilled, and your breathing leveled out.

You felt so spent, but the ache inside you only deepened, intensified. You knew what you really needed to quench the fire, you knew that Elijah was the only one who could give you that. Your fangs itched, throbbing behind your gums, ready to come out when the moment was right.

Elijah sat up, wiping his mouth and looking pleased with himself as he looked down at your naked form beneath him. You bit your lip, heat creeping into your cheeks as you smiled at him.

"That was..." you trailed off, unable to form the proper words to describe what the fuck you had just experienced.

Elijah grinned as he dipped back down and pressed a long and loving kiss to your lips. He pulled you closer as you deepened the kiss. He kissed you so sweetly and softly, his hands resting on your lower back and his tongue slowly mapping out your mouth. You hummed into his kiss as you ran your fingers down his toned back, pulling him close.

"Now, my sweet angel," Elijah murmured, tilting your face up so his dark eyes locked with yours. "Are you ready for your final lesson?"

"Yes, Elijah," you whispered, your lips brushing against his. “Please,”

Elijah took one of your legs and wrapped it around him as his cock nudged your core. He was teasing you, moving the tip up and down your slit, making your entire body quiver as he kissed down your neck, finding a spot just behind your ear and nibbling gently.

He continued this pattern, your whines becoming needy and pathetic. Elijah's smirk pressed to your skin as his fangs nipped at your shoulder. Your head rolled back, giving him more room as he suckled on your pulse point.

"Such a good student for me, always listening, always eager." He said between nips. "Are you going to keep being my good girl?"

A strangled yes fell from your lips as Elijah nudged at your entrance. You whined and panted, trying to wiggle your hips and get him to sink his cock inside you, but he only chuckled and gripped your hips, pinning you to the bed as he nuzzled your neck.

"Let's not be impatient," he whispered, the low and possessive tone in his voice made a shiver roll down your spine. "There's so much I have yet to teach you, darling."

Elijah pressed his hips forward, and you felt the tip of him press against your entrance. He moved his face away from your neck as he pressed into you.

Your hands clung to him as you braced for it, this thing, this big, scary thing you never experienced, was suddenly happening. “It's okay," he hummed, "just breathe, angel,"

Your face felt warm as you looked at him and took a deep breath. He leaned forward, kissing your lips lovingly as his hands squeezed your hips, pulling you closer, sinking deeper.

His thrusts were slow, languid, intense. Elijah held himself up on his forearms, caging you as he looked down at you. Your mouth parted as your eyes locked with his. His slow and teasing rhythm had you trembling beneath him.

"My sweet little vampire," he purred, a deep sound in the back of his throat. "So good for me."

The words of praise were too much, the sight of Elijah above you, the feeling of him inside you. Your nails raked down his back, digging into his skin, needing him closer, wanting more, desperate to consume it all. 

A sudden vampiric urge took over, and you pushed on his chest with all your strength, he chuckled and sat back, letting you take the lead with a smirk on his face. In one swift move you were straddling his lap, sinking back down onto his cock and making both of you moan.

You were running on pure instinct as you began to move your hips, trying to find the right rhythm. He cupped your ass in his hands, his thumbs stroked your skin gently as you bounced up and down on his lap.

"Like this, angel," he said softly, repositioning your knees as you gripped his shoulders. "Here," he pulled one hand away from your ass to show you the correct motion to roll your hips with, guiding you until your movements matched his instructions.

"A fast learner in all things," He purred as a grin formed on your face, making him smile in return. You kept the movement of your hips steady, trying to control the bloodlust in your peripherals. 

Your hips slowed and you leaned forward to kiss along his neck, your fangs extending, and a new feeling came over you. A hunger that couldn't be filled by blood or sex. This hunger needed both, primally, simultaneously. And it had a target.

You felt him grip you a little tighter as your hips rocked a little faster. The bed began to creak softly beneath you as you increased your rhythm, his head rolled back with a soft moan. The sound only spurred you on.

Elijah gripped the back of your head and pulled you up for a kiss. He moaned into your mouth when you swirled your hips. The movement caused your clit to rub against him, giving you that delicious friction you so badly needed.

The wild hunger was taking over, obscene bloodlust. Clouding all reasoning. Your fangs ached with a painful desire to bite him, sink into him, take his blood.

"Elijah," you murmured between kisses. You couldn't wait any longer. Your eyes were black, your fangs extended, veins dancing under your eyes, and Elijah chuckled at the look. "Elijah, can I—"

He kissed you harder, his grip on your hips tightening. "Take what you need, angel,"

A growl came from the back of your throat, and your lips went straight to his neck. The moment you sunk your fangs in his skin, he moaned deeply, making your clench around him.

Time seemed to fall away as you tasted Elijah's blood. It was rich and sweet, nothing like anything you'd ever tasted before. It felt like you were in some sort of haze, unable to stop yourself from bouncing and moaning in Elijah's lap as you fed on him. Blinded by pure and unadulterated pleasure.

It was heaven, pure and simple, the taste of him. A moan rumbled from the depths of his chest, and you felt the reverberation of his groan through his neck.

You were drunk off his blood, high off his touch. Everything about him was intoxicating. The sounds, the taste, the feeling, the sin of it all.

"Don't stop," he groaned. "Fuck, don't stop."

You couldn't even if you tried. You would never disobey an order from him. Your hips were moving at an almost inhuman pace, the taste of his blood only adding fuel to the fire inside. He was all yours, and you were his. Blood, sex, breath, skin, all intermingling. You felt his hand come up and tangle into your hair, holding you to his neck as his other hand moved to the small of your back, adjusting your rhythm to an inhuman level.

"Just like that, angel, fuck," his voice was a strangled whisper, his head rolled back as a loud, throaty groan left him.

The way his body stiffened, the way he moaned, and the way his hips snapped up into yours, his cock thrusting deep into you had you seeing stars. You were coming, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It was all too much. His blood, his cum, the feeling of him deep inside you, the taste of him on your lips, the scent of him everywhere. Everything exploded at once. White hot fire rolled over and under your skin, like you were being consumed by napalm. 

He moaned deeply as you rode out your orgasms, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you firmly pressed against his chest. You panted, trying to catch your breath as his mouth found yours, he bit down on your lip, your own blood flooding his mouth, mingling with the taste of his. Completing the connection, blood mixing, becoming one. 

You were panting, breathless, sated. But the need wasn't gone. The hunger lingered. The desire remained. You didn't think it would ever be fully quenched.

Elijah pressed a few gentle kisses to your lips before he laid down, bringing you with him. He shifted so that his softening cock slipped out of you and cradled you in his arms, kissing the top of your head as the two of you lay there in silence, catching your breath.

Your body felt exhausted and sore, but so fucking good, too. Your head was swimming as Elijah looked at you with a tender, loving gaze, a hint of pride lingering in the brown eyes that studied you. You felt your face grow hot under his scrutiny, feeling self-conscious from how intensely he was watching you.

Elijah’s fingers traced idle circles against your back, his breath warm against your temple. "You’re thinking too much, angel," he murmured, amusement laced in his voice.

You hesitated, then sighed. "I just... I don’t know what this means to you." The words felt clumsy now, uncertain in a way you hadn’t been when you had marched into his study and asked him to ruin you.

Elijah hummed, tilting his head like he was considering something. "Curious," he mused. "You certainly weren’t so hesitant when you strolled into my study and propositioned me like one might ask for a book recommendation."

The heat that bloomed across your cheeks was now traveling down your neck. "That was different."

"Was it?" He chuckled, low and indulgent. "You seemed quite certain then. So impatient, so eager. So hopelessly distracted during our lessons. Tell me, was it always lust muddling your focus, or was it just me?"

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. "I regret everything."

"No, you don’t," he countered, the smug grin evident in his voice. "But tell me, angel, why the sudden uncertainty?"

You bit your lip, the vulnerability creeping back in. "I don’t know if this was just... a lesson for you. That this is just casual,"

Elijah stilled for half a second. Just long enough for doubt to gnaw at you. Before he tipped your chin up, his eyes were dark but soft. "You are a rarity," he began, voice like silk. "Fascinating, infuriating. Bold enough to challenge me, reckless enough to walk into my study and ask the unthinkable. Do you know how long it has been since someone has surprised me?"

You swallowed hard, and he smiled. "That is why I call you angel," he murmured, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. "Because I look at you and I see heaven."

Your chest ached at the weight of his words. He had called you angel from the moment he agreed to this. He had looked at you with something unreadable, something reverent, like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world.

Elijah was right; this was a lesson for you, but not the one either of you had expected. It wasn't about control, or restraint, or blood. It was a lesson in trust, in opening your heart, and it was the last thing either of you had thought to expect.

And as Elijah leaned down and kissed you again, his hands gentle and possessive and loving all at once, you knew it was the beginning of something wonderful.

[babysfirsthaze]

Pent up... (Ekko x reader)

Synopsis: you and Ekko have been caught up with responsibilities, haven't had a whole lot of time together. You get needy. He takes care of you.

Content: the most vanilla sex of your life, soft kissy missionary, fem!reader, p in v, unprotected, very light nipple sucking, established relationship. Not very proofread. Probably extremely out of character.

A/n: first fic ahhh idk..!!🥹 this is lowk so vanilla it's boring idk. Trying 2 ease myself into it. Please lmk if I made any mistakes, I did this instead of homework so I hope it's good smh</3 enjoy

Sex isn't that important to you.

Really, it's not.

Ekko's always had a higher libido than you, not that you don't wanna fuck him, it's just not really on your mind much. You're fine without it, as long as you get to hold him at night. But– fuck.

It's been almost two weeks. You've both been busy with responsibilities, leading the Firelights isn't easy, even with the weight on four shoulders. You find yourself looking at his body a little more than his face, getting distracted, thoughts wondering away to hot, steamy places, when you're supposed to be paying attention. It feels a little dirty, you've never been one to sexualise people. But you can't help it. He's hunched over a desk at the moment, shoulders tense and legs spread absent-mindedly.

Your mouth waters.

"Ekko," you start, the word soft, your fingers fidget with your top as you sit on your shared bed. He looks up, eyes curious and a bit tired. "Hm?" He sits up a bit and you bite your lip, unsure how to go about this, but you've never been a shy person.

"That work important?"

"..Not really," he hums, tilting his head, looking at you curiously. You open your mouth, close it again, trying to get your thoughts to shut up. Dick dick dick dick. Come on now, you're better than this, right? Surely you're better than this.

"I need somethin'," you mumble, thighs squirming together a little. "C'mere."

He does, and you look at the way his arms flex when he pushes himself off the desk, instead of his face. He frowns, bemused. That's new. Then you're tugging at his shirt, pulling him closer to you, and looking up at him with those big, sweet eyes. Shit. He starts to smile, standing over you where you sit on the bed. "Yeah? What's that?"

You tilt your face up at him, raising your eyebrows a bit. "Kiss me?" He grins, first instinct to tease you a bit, but then you tug at his shirt again, thighs pressed together and a sort of need in your eyes neither of you are used to. He doesn't have a lot of resolve, that man.

Your mouths connect, and he's smiling a bit, and he's got his hand rested on the side of your neck, and he smells good, and ohh, god. You sigh into his mouth, hand curling tighter around his shirt. The kiss is slow, filled with an affection and closeness. But the mood changes before long, and you tug him closer, the kisses becoming hungry, heavy and hot.

Ekko leans further over you, scooting you back a bit so you're more on the middle of the bed. He knows what you want. The two of you don't have much free time these days, and yeah, teasing is fun, he'd love to work you up, make you wait, but – it's late. So he's climbing over you, movements slow, the kiss unbroken.

You trail a hand down his waist, tugging at his shirt. "Missed you," you hum into his mouth, and he sighs, enjoying the hands on his skin. He kisses a line down your jaw, mouthing onto your neck. "Yeah?" He sucks and gnaws gently on your pulse point, making you whine. "Been neglectin' you, huh? Sorry, baby."

You forgive him.

You tug at his shirt again, and he gives in, helping you tug it off to reveal his toned, heavy body. He takes yours off in kind, careful hands unclasping and slipping off your bra. Then his mouth is back on your neck, kissing down your chest, before latching around your nipple, brown eyes closed as his mouth works at you, making you sign and moan.

"Pretty girl," he murmurs, and he comes back up to look at you. His hands trail over your body, gentle but hungry. You hook your arms over his shoulders, chewing on your lip, eyes all hazy, full of need. Your mouths connect again and he groans, right hand creeping under your waistband. You whine, bucking your hips up eagerly, needing his touch.

"Please," you sigh, and he doesn't deny you, dipping two fingers down into your panties. You're already wet, and he grins. Running his fingertips gently over your clit, squeezing the small nub gently between them, like he knows you like. "I got you, baby," he mumbles, his voice all breathy, and you can feel him straining against his pants, his hips brushing against your thigh thanks to the position you're in.

You mewl, squirming under him. You really have been needing this, shit, your clit twitches, and you bite your lip.

"Don't tease me," you mumble, your voice a little strained. It feels good. But you want more, you wanna get off, you want him to fuck you. "Please, just fuck me." He chuckles, cooing softly at you, his fingers dipping down, teasing at your hole. You whine, and he swallows it eagerly into his mouth. "Sorry, baby. 'M gonna fuck ya."

You'd both need more foreplay than that, on a different day. But it has been a while, and you look so pretty, and he tugs his hand out of your panties, sitting up a bit. Then he's pulling your pants off, hands gentle, careful, and he groans, eyes trailing over your pussy.

"So pretty," Ekko says again, almost to himself. He runs a soothing hand over your thighs, watching hungrily as your arousal drips down your folds. Shit. He reaches for his belt buckle, pushing his pants down efficiently, he's just as worked up as you are. His boxers are on the floor and by God that dick.

He's hard, pre leaking out of his sensitive slit.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, his hand wrapping around his shaft, and he thumbs at his tip. Just looking at you. He thinks you're so pretty, could look at you for hours. But there's more important things to do.

He kneels back down on the mattress, tugging your knees apart and settling between them. He spits lightly on his hand, spreading it down his length, using it like a lube as he pumps himself slowly, other hand pressing against your clit. This draws a soft whine out of you and he smiles, chewing on his lip.

He shifts, leaning forward to stroke his tip over your clit, teasing it. "Shit," he grunts, and he grabs your hand, holding it against the mattress as he enjoys the feeling, brow furrowing slightly. "Fuck, Ekko," you whine, squeezing his hand.

"Shhh, baby, I got you," he mumbles, pushing his tip inside you, before pulling it out again with a soft pop. Then he starts to fuck you. Slow, gentle strokes, filling you up all nice, shifting and hoisting your knees till he hits that good angle, the one that makes your mouth fall open and your eyes go fuzzy. "Yeah, baby? That feel good?" He cooes, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

He nudges against that spot inside you, groaning softly and pressing a thumb to apply gentle pressure to your clit. It's been too long, both your heads are going hazy, and he just wants to make you feel good, to feel good in turn. "Shit, I missed this fuckin' pussy."

You moan, and he shushes you with a kiss, squeezing your hand. "People are trying to sleep." You can't find it in you to care, not when you're finally getting the dick you've been craving for days, but you feel compelled to listen to Ekko, so you keep quiet. Just sigh into his mouth, whining softly and allowing your hands to trail up and down his back.

The pace is slow, gentle and full of affection. Just rocking into that warm, gooey spot inside you, he's only a couple inches deep, but he doesn't mind. Ekko kisses you, sighing sweet nothings into your mouth and right down to your tummy. His thumb still working at your clit, just rocking back and forth on top of it, in time with his hips, sandwiching your most sensitive parts between your favourite boy and turning your brain into mush.

It doesn't take much, to push you over the edge. God knows you've waited long enough. A few careful, practiced touches, whispered praise and reassurances, and sure enough that feeling is bubbling into your tummy, spilling over when he starts to rub little circles on your clit. You cum holding your breath to keep quiet, face twisted up in pleasure as Ekko fucks you through it. So pretty.

"Good girl, good girl...bet that feels good, huh? This what you wanted? Sweet girl just needed a fuck, yeah, I know, I know..."

Then he's pulling out, still touching you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. He nuts with a groan, pumping himself to the same pace, warm cum shooting out of him, onto your tummy. He rests his forehead on your shoulder, placing small kisses to the skin there.

You just lay there for a moment, both needing a second to recover, get your bearings again. Not the most intense orgasms of your lives but exactly what you needed. He nuzzles into you, nudging his nose against your jaw.

"Round two?"

Published on 12/2/15 by babysfirsthaze on tumblr

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

Miko felt the gentle squeeze of her hand, a smile still shows on her face. He still felt so warm as well. "Y..Yeah, same thing. It's really something huh?" she didn't mind that but blinks.

"So um….what do you do next? Do you want to go on a date like a movie, amusement part or something else? It's really up to you!"

"r...really? W..well...I guess we could.....go on a amusement park or..."

That's when she heard squawks when he blinks as if there is something outside the window. A blue seahorse. Anaconda and Dennis saw this too wondering what shikigami was doing here?

"....????" Miko blinks to see the shikigami.

Hold on. Doesn't that shikigami belong to Rioto?! Miryu?! What is he doing here?

Eito is squawking at Miryu while Miryu lets out whinny sounds. Eito chases Miryu outside, making him blink. "Uhhhh..." Kisho blinks.

"T..that was....random. What was Miryu doing there?" she asked but saw Anaconda and Dennis go to chase after the two. "G..guys!? Where are you going!? "she said seeing them hop out the window. Now she was really confused.

~~~~Outside~~~~

"Shoot! Miryu got caught by Eito!" Rioto whispered.

"He blew his cover now we can't see what is going on!" Hana whispered wanting to know.

"If you two don't be quiet they will hear us." Yuria said to the two.

"I'm sure she and Kisho might have already heard us." Maki said with Nobara shaking her head. However, that's when the door slides open to show Mi-sun who opened it but saw Yuria, Hana, and Nobara fall to the ground in a pile twitching with Maki sweatdropping.

"What are you all doing here?" she asked the group.

"Ummmmm...."

"I'm sure they didn't given the situation. They could be just too happy right now to even notice." Nobara knew that much but she only looks happier while looking at the group. She was happy for Miko and Kisho.

"That's also true. Given how things have gone for the time...." Maki said to smile.

"See? They agree with me!" Hana giggled with Yuria hushing her gently. Though, Hana blinks hearing this to look at Rioto and Miryu.

"Really? That's sneaky of you too." she said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

".....So he was chasing you because of preferences for a girl someone likes?" she blinks to look hearing this. "Though, sounds like he didn't like your first answer from the guessing point." she said. She still didn't like Todo doing that, even chasing him around.

"SO yeah….he kinda tossed me across the classroom." Kisho laughs. "In a way…you're my first….love..Miko." Kisho blushes.

She blushed again to smile looking at him. "I'm happy to be your first love.....and I'm happy your my first love too, Kisho." she said.

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"His only one." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

You are his only one, he told you that the day you got married, that's why you don't mind the neighbors' blatant flirting with your husband, but the third time's the charm, and at that moment, you make clear to her that his ass belongs to you (literally)

A/N: I saw a post here about someone asking to write about Daryl and the flirty neighbors making him feel uncomfortable haha ​​so this is my failed attempt, although it made me smile a little so I hope you like it at least a little, too. Thanks!

The first time it happens, you let it go.

It's not that you don’t care, but you know that a relationship is built on trust, and if there is one person you trust even if someone had put a blindfold on you, it would be Daryl. Daryl was quiet most of the time, but his personality was actually very funny after you saw who he really was when you two were alone, when you saw his true self behind his crossbow and the way he used to push others away for fear of getting too attached. But when Daryl became open about showing his own vulnerabilities, only with you, it was so easy to fall for him, plus, the love and shyness in his gaze every time he saw you coming was sweet—a love only reserved for you.

After he let you in, you realized he had a lot to offer as a person with a good and brave heart, so willing to protect others even if it put his own at risk. Daryl was always a good company: he spoke little but paid attention, remembering even the smallest detail that you swore was unimportant, just because to him, everything related to you was important. But when he asked you to marry him along the way, that was a big surprise, however, you found a shelter in his arms, a real home with him: and maybe because his gaze always made you trust that there would be no one else, you never doubted him even after you saw how the neighbors turned to look at him. Maybe it was also because everyone was focused on his exterior, on that almost pornographic image that he was, (with his broad shoulders, his arms in that sassy sleeveless shirt, and that face that seemed carved by God when HE was in a VERY good mood) but no one paid attention beyond the obvious, so you never felt threatened.

Now, slowly, like a pretty moving photograph, the sun starts to hide away in the infinite horizon, painting the calm sky of that new world with beautiful shades of orange. The end of the day is quiet on your home, with your husband sitting on the porch steps, carving an arrow because several are never enough, Carol on the wooden floor close to you while she solves another crossword puzzle, and you, rocking lazily in the rocking chair, eyes and mind on the book you managed to find in the last search for supplies.

A comfortable silence abounds in the air, until Miss Ellis walks by on her way to her own home.

"Hi, neighbor." She purrs, with a bright smile and the way the corner of her lip curls like a kitten's.

Like meerkats when danger is latent, the three of you raise your heads (almost in a comical way) to see her walking away, watching her lowering the hand with which she had just greeted Daryl, and only Daryl: although his first reaction is to look in your direction, like he’s asking for help to understand what the hell was that. You know Daryl has a tough exterior, but his personality, when it came to accepting flirtations, almost reached the point of stuttering.

“Wait a sec, weren't there three of us here?” Carol asks, frowning playfully.

“Yeah… did we suddenly become Casper the damn Friendly Ghost?” You chuckle, turning your attention back to the book. “Not to state the obvious, but I think the neighbor has a crush on you, love.”

Carol chuckles too, but your disinterest in the matter and his best friend's mockery makes Daryl frown.

“What are ya waitin' for, woman? Go over there and defend yer husband’s honor.”

Carol shrugs, agreeing with him.

“Well, she just looked at Daryl like he was a piece of meat, (Y/N).”

You nod, but you don’t even bother to look up.

“I know. But going there would only prove that Daryl have some interest in her, and since I know he doesn’t, I don’t see why I should bother.”

Daryl scoffs, but he knows you are absolutely right, so he returns his attention to the arrow.

“I see ya're not even the slightest bit afraid of losin’ me, woman.”

Carol chuckles at your silence.

"Yeah, (Y/N), I mean, Daryl's such a great catch, especially with his gruff personality."

You chuckle.

“I know. I know the neighbors have been staring at him ever since we arrived in the community, but I don't blame them because, look at him..." From top to bottom, you point at him with one hand, still paying attention to the words in the book. "Daryl is like walking porn."

Carol laughs, longer this time, but your unfiltered words make Daryl blush under the sunset as he keeps his eyes down, still carving the same arrow.

The second time it happens, you are a little far to say something.

At the end of the day, you arrive last to the community meeting after your rotating job at the infirmary, taking your place against the concrete wall in Deanna’s backyard. Alexandria’s head keeps talking, directing people and you pay attention for a moment, until your sight catches the image of Mary, probably one of the most striking neighbors, and the way her mischievous fingers try to touch the exposed skin of Daryl’s bare arm as she keeps trying to make a conversation with him, who looks like a kitten cornered in an alley by a pack of dogs.

The comparison makes you laugh, but you stifle the laughter with a gentle smile when some of the neighbors in front of you turn to look at you. Waving back, they turn their attention to the front, and you keep your eyes ahead too even after you feel your husband’s presence next to you, after a very short while.

“What did I miss?”

Daryl shrugs.

“The same shit as always. How was work?”

“Quiet, just two people with a cold and a baby who came for his second vaccine.” You try to keep a calm expression as you speak your next words through a softer voice. “You are a grown ass man, Daryl Dixon, and yet you looked terrified of a small woman.”

Embarrassed, he grunts.

“What do ya want me to do? Fight her? That’s yer job n ya ain’t doin’ it.”

You chuckle.

“I don’t fight over a man, love, never did, never will.”

Daryl crosses his arms over his chest, eyes still ahead.

“I forgot ma wife is the most unbothered person in this damn world.”

You chuckle again.

“There are priorities even in this life, my dear husband, but if you want, next time we go on a supply run we can take her with us, and something mysterious can happen to her. We can make it look like an accident.”

You’re joking and Daryl knows it, but he chuckles, the corner of his lips curling adorably.

When the meeting is over and everyone returns to the safety of their homes, you and Daryl are one of the first to leave, walking side by side to your house that is almost on the other side of the community. The weather is warm during that season, and for the first time in a long time, the night doesn't grow deeper, darker or scarier. However, your gaze travels from the moon illuminating your path to your hand when you feel your husband's on yours.

You frown, making an amused expression.

"What are you doing?"

Daryl mimics the look on your face.

"What? I can't take ma wife's hand?" He scoffs, making you shrug, so you look ahead again, ignoring some neighbors behind you, with Mary between them since her house is close to yours.

But you know why he's doing that like never before. Daryl is reserved with his married life, always keeping his displays of affection within four walls, too shy and slightly awkward to let other people see who needy for your love he became sometimes.

"But… ain’t yer job to mark yer territory or some shit like that? Like, make it clear for her that I'm yer husband?"

You frown playfully, looking back at him.

“I'm not a damn dog, Daryl. Or do you want me to pee on your leg or something?"

A little surprised, Daryl chuckles.

"Are ya really not worried? Or slightly jealous?"

You shrug again.

“No. I mean, I trust you, but if you start bringing squirrels just for her, that’s when I will get worried. You are like those cute penguins who bring the most beautiful stone to the love of their life: believe me, the squirrels are your stones.”

Daryl chuckles, letting go of your hand only to slide it over your shoulders and pull you into him, doing it because he wants to.

The third time it happens, you intervene.

A few minutes earlier, you walked out of your house to sit on the rocking chair with a sandwich on a plate, eager to continue with your book after a successful supply run. Daryl and Rick took the lead to leave the things found in the community warehouse, walking down the street towards your house about half an hour later. But too engrossed in old poems from the last century, you miss the way Daryl is intercepted by Ellie two houses away, until the voice of one of your family members catches your attention.

"Aren't you going to save your husband, (Y/N)?" Rick chuckles, standing near the porch steps. You follow his gaze, lingering on the way that every time the female neighbor tries to make a subtle step, Daryl takes one back. “Please, do, this went from being funny to being sad.”

You roll your eyes, leaving the book aside.

“Fine.”

“Wait... are you going to fight her?” With his gaze slightly more open, Rick stands there as you walk past him. “Because I've seen you take out walkers for less.”

“Goodnight, Rick.”

He chuckles, walking towards his own home.

Maybe it's your height, maybe it's the way your gaze turned deep, serious, with a quiet but menacing personality when the occasion called for it, but there's something about you that makes the neighbor take a step back when you stop next to them, slapping your husband’s butt playfully but almost shamelessly, almost making him jump in place.

“Whatcha doing, buttercup?” You smile at him, with his surprised look on you, even after you turn your attention to Ellie. “Hi, neighbor, I didn’t see you there like the way you didn't notice me last week when you greeted my husband. Ellie, right?”

She nods, surprised by your calm outburst.

“Don’t be scared please, I’m not going to hurt you, although, I could, you know? But I just wanted to ask you nicely not to try to suck all the air out of my husband’s face because you make him uncomfortable, and he’s not going to do anything about it, but I will: trust me, I’ve killed people for less, so imagine what I’d do for his ass, which is mine, so… yep, I guess that’s it.” Keeping the cutest smile you can muster, you take Daryl’s hand to make him walk with you. “Say goodbye to the neighbor, sweetheart.”

As all words have left Daryl’s mind, he simply waves goodbye once. And he lets himself be guided in silence until you are within the four walls of your home, but once the door lock has clicked and a second after you let go of his hand, he catches it again to pull you towards him, lifting you up in those strong arms of his until you have no choice but to tighten your legs around his waist.

Daryl is smiling, in the way he only does with you.

"Fuck, woman, I don' know if I'm scared of ya, impressed, or turned on."

You chuckle.

"Your ass is mine, Dixon, why do you think I married you?"

He chuckles along with you, before pressing his lips to yours.

@fluffy-dixon

[lustlovehart]

Modern Monster!Twst... mmm (I need to stop making different variations of the same au LMAO)

Warnings: Human Eating, Blood, influencer!Reader (who is the opposite of MH!Reader in terms of personality. You'll see how 😭), Breaking and Entering, Zombies in your bed

Maybe rather than a monster hunter, you’re an influencer who fakes monster sightings. You record yourself sifting through abandoned places, searching every place, and without fail, something always seems to appear from the shadows, your poor self only narrowly escaping...

Most of your audience knows its, but there are always many who believe its real simply from the sheer horror! It looks so real!

With your camera in hand, you walk into the abandoned asylum, famed in history for its treatments. When patients go mad, they lock their necks with tight collars, old studies believing it would stop the illness from spreading to their heads... Heartslaybul "hospital".

Maybe it's a special live stream. While you're talking the chat begins to explode with worries, their fear seeping into you.

Your friend didn't tell you they were gonna set off the fake that early... You're ready to turn off your camera and search for them, only to be met with a glowing, transparent light. It's similar to the ghost fake you've used a few times before, but... since when was it red?

Realization finally hits you when you turn to the side; pale blue hair holds what looks like your friend's camera, curiously gazing at the contraption splattered with crimson liquid. He carries it above and lets the scarlet drip into his mouth.

You drop your stream onto the floor, not daring to look at the chat, nor your back before you sprint as far as you can. You don't even make it five feet before you're met with decaying limbs wrapping around you, orange hair invading your vision, and a heart-shaped wound on your captors face.

"You like monsters a lot, don't you?" his smile is cocky as his arms envelop your waist, "you wouldn't mind letting one take a bite, yeah?" He's about to take a chunk out of you with his canines before another rotting man appears, except with more stitches than wounds and a height that towers over everything. He's swift to hoist you over his shoulder, out of the gluttonous beast's range.

"You have to share, Ace. It's harder to find food than it was a while ago." You would jump out of his hold, but being eight feet in the air is horrifying.

Any shouts are caught in your throat, especially when another person comes into frame, except... He looks the most normal out of all them, albeit the slight wisp in his body... and the way his mouth is delayed like it doesn't belong there.

"They're kinda cute! Can't believe this frail thing is the one I've been watching!" his bright personality contrasts the dark background, as well as the stifling atmosphere. The corpse holding your friend's camera walks over. His face looks sorry, but the way he licks his lips clean of blood tells a different one.

Your lips tremble; you may not have seen it first hand, but you'd be a fool to believe they survived that. Survive...

You have to...! You really wish you had a gun right now, or maybe even a knife you don't know! Anything!

"Here's you friends... weapon, I think. They were kinda hitting me with it so."

...

"Please don't eat me!!! I've been eating junk for the last few weeks. I promise I probably taste like grease and sugar!" Maybe they're the brain-eating type... "Ah, I'm... stupid! Yeah, my brain doesn't taste good at all!" You continue your blabbering, begging them not to take a bite out of you as you flail. Your legs kick the giant you're on, and each hit has him awkwardly smiling, yet it doesn't stop him from holding you. he doesn't seem phased at all...

If you can somehow get out, the exit to the forest isn't far... In fact! Your apartment isn't far at all!

The red glow you saw first float in front of you, the stitched corners of his mouth twitching into a devious smile.

"No one's broken the rules of coming here in awhile. Even humans have gone as far to make rules themself about entering, yet you disobeyed them too." he leans closer, dark hollow eyes staring into yours. "You broke them; what is your reason?"

"I saw a picture of you online and thought you were really cute so I came to find you!"

That, is what seems to shock everyone into paralysis.

You quickly flip yourself over, your back hitting the floor before running towards your exit. You can hear them all running after you, yet when you turn, the one that catches your attention is the scarlet ghost. His eyes are distant, yet they seem fixated entirely on you.

...

Your breath is heavy as you fall down your door, processing what just happened. How... How do you explain your friends disappearance? If anything... You'll be the first suspect.

What do you, what do you do, what do you??

The stress has you passing out on your floor, your whole body trembling in fear at the reality that you have almost lost your life.

In your slumber, you fail to realize the five figures that stare at you through your window.

...

You shift in your covers, the alarm on your clock waking you up. Slowly, you lean up, your mattress creaking from the movement. A dream, a horrible dream... Your worries lift off your chest at the prospect. It was so realistic...

The sight of a bloody camera and cracked phone makes your initial relief disappear.

"Man, I didn't realize how comfy beds were now...!" the voice has you look to your left a rotten moving corpse under your sheets with you, the heart-wounded monster smiling at your shock. The shift of a different zombie has you looking to your right, pale blue emerging from under the blankets.

"He made me sleep here, i'm so sorry-"

"I did not; you came in here on your own Deuce-!"

You jump out of your bed, your body hitting the wall as photos fall to the floor. "How... How...? How the hell-?!" You reach for a fork you had lying around on your desk, an unfortunately familiar large hand gently grabbing your wrist and guiding the utensil away from the zombies.

"Sorry, silver works better on vampires." A spark of electricity leaves him when he exchanges this fact, the shock barely caressing your skin. You leap at the sensation, metal sounding off the floor. The corpse complied of different flesh, smiles at you as if you were simply jumpy, not absolutely horrified.

Those exist too?!

The curtains to your room are closed, minimal light seeping through. It might be cause for your current predicament. You swear, as they talk to you, a pair of green irises stare you down, and right when you're about to direct attention to the entity, shadows wave you goodbye.

It's as if you've given up your drive when they watch you sit on the floor, blankly staring at their rose tyrant.

"Can you at least kill me painlessly before you eat me...?" They all stare at the sudden willingness you have for their hunger... Their shock subsides when they notice the way you have a far-away camera recording them. It's no worry to them though; it's not live.

Riddle's apparitional form floats forward, the first one to break the stalemate. You shut your eyes tight, sticking your arm out for him like he was a vampire rather than a ghost.

as long as someone, anyone really, finds the footage...

You can go out famous for your mysterious death!

"Don't be foolish." Riddles cold wispy hand suddenly solidifies, his warm palm taking your hand. "the only way to truly stop a rule-breakers transgressions, is to make sure they can never do them again." They're gonna kill you. They're gonna-

"We're staying right here." Wait, is he saying...

Are they gonna live with you!?

A/n: I was actually gonna do all the dorms for this but realized i need to stop doing long posts for really small stuff 😔

It's not clear, but all of them actually know who you are solely from the phone Riddle got Cater when he went out as a human. he found you and then showed you all to them, collectively agreeing you'd be a good meal.

Riddle thought you were pretty on sight, but knows it's in his best interest to stay rule-abiding and just stick to consuming you. It must be destiny, the influencer they've all been secretly crushing on watching, said they thought he was pretty.

Cue the rest of Modern! Monster Twst about a fake monster investigator and the very real monsters who start living with them solely out of affection <3

[strwbrychffoncke]

"you'll feel it deep down whenever you're alone,, 1.1k words synopsis: caleb can't find it in himself to regret this if its something you've always wanted ,too contains: nsfw! (+ angst?) ,lnds caleb x afab!reader ,wouldn't call it 'forbidden love' but just playing w the idea of yearner!caleb (& coming to terms w being able to have u) ,caleb wrestling w guilt over his feelings ,reassurance from reader (u both want this) ,you sit on his lap ,confession ,kissing ,touching ,implied first time (more for caleb than for reader) ,hand holding ,unprotected sex ,piv ,caleb is kinda possessive right at the v end ,i think thats it note: (unedited!) knew this song was perfect for him but had to try had to write smth that would fit too.... this is lowkey a character study disguised as a fic :x also thought ab this + this art while writing which helps convey the feeling i was going for here (go support the artist they mean sm to me)

-

caleb knows he shouldn't feel like this.

he's known since he first realized his feelings back then.

how many years has it been now? he couldn't tell since he's loved you for as long as he could remember.

he's known he shouldn't feel like this, he does, but when you asked him so sweetly, sitting on his lap, testing the waters, pressing yourself against him and finding a shred of boldness to spill what's been on your mind all of these years, what could he do but comply with your desires?

"i'm in love with you, caleb. i always have been. i need you to know. i... i need you, more than anything. you're the only one that i want."

his hands caress the apples of your cheeks and he reminisces about your baby fat from when you were younger, admiring the current softness of them, unable to resist the urge to squish them just slightly.

he watches you nuzzle into his familiar touch, eyes fluttering shut at the comforting warmth of his hands.

his breathing picks up ever so slightly.

how many times have you been in this sort of situation right now? so close in proximity, breaths beginning to intermingle with one another, wondering who will make the next move.

a thumb glides over your lips, caressing the plushy flesh.

how many times has he held you like this, wanting more than anything to close the distance, but unable to find it in himself, hesitating before pulling back altogether?

your eyes crack open, looking directly into his.

'don't....'

"caleb..."

'don't look at me like that.'

you lean forward ever so slightly, eyes locked with his.

'don't....'

he feels your warm breath on his lips, so close that if he leans forward just slightly, he'll meet you.

'don't say it....'

"kiss me."

your words are a whisper against his lips, and his eyes are wide, looking back into yours, so close yet unwilling to make the move if he really isn't willing.

you've never made it easy for him.

his thumbs brush over your cheeks.

"are you sure?"

"i'm sure."

his forehead rests against yours.

"you've really thought about this?"

"more than anything."

he inhales a shaky breath.

"okay."

he closes the distance.

-

the kiss slowly escalates to now, his fingertips traveling slowly down your skin, hands trembling at your sides, torn between holding you in his firm grasp and pulling away completely.

you were the worst kind of drug to him.

but he could never stay away.

noticing his hesitation you gently rested your hands over his, pushing them flat against your abdomen.

"its okay," your voice was soft, too soft, too sweet right now.

don't say it like that.

"you can touch me, caleb."

his breath hitched.

don't say that so easily.

"i want this, too," you breathed out, offering a kind, reassuring smile devoid of the usual teasing you two were used to engaging each other with.

and he felt what little restraint he had left, snap.

don't....

he took a deep breath, planting his hands firmly onto your stomach, feeling the soft material of your shirt under his fingertips before he started dragging his hands up and down.

he looked up at your face.

you nodded. keep going.

his touch moved up, feeling your breasts through your shirt.

you hummed under the kneading of his large hands, and he felt his heart lurch.

he was really touching you like this.

you were so soft, just how he'd imagined you'd be. his heart hammered in his chest, unable to tear his eyes away from you, unable to tear his eyes away from the face that he was the one corrupting you this way.

even so, even if he felt like he was ruining you under the touch of his fingertips...

"caleb, take it off."

when your sweet reassurances were all that continued to spill from your lips, looking up at him pleadingly and longingly, how could this possibly be wrong?

-

caleb is taken aback at the sight of your body in all of its beauty.

sure, he had grown up with you, watching you grow in return, and would often be reminded of just how much you'd grown from back then.

this was a sight he'd only dreamed of.

he realized he'd been staring for too long when you squirmed under his gaze, looking to the side and shielding yourself with your arms.

"dont just stare.... i know i'm—"

"you're beautiful, pipsqueak," he breathes out.

you meet his eyes staring right back into yours, and watch as his hands reach for your wrists, removing your arms from your center and gently pinning them to the mattress.

his eyes rake over your body again, his hands inching up to intertwine his fingers with yours.

"i just.. can't believe i really get to have you like this."

you heart thrums, small smile curling on your lips. you knew exactly what he meant.

"me too," you whisper.

caleb lets out a shaky breath.

he feels you squeeze his hand.

"kiss me, caleb."

he doesn't think twice this time, leaning down to capture your lips with his, the depths of his feelings pouring directly into you, and you can feel it, feel how badly he's wanted this, how badly he wants it, and you're only filled with relief that the sentiment is shared.

when you break away and urge him to keep going, he does so with little hesitation.

each touch of his is spurred on by your pleased sounds and urges of "just like that" and "there" as he explores your body, learning about what exactly makes you feel good, committing it to memory for future reference of this repeated time together.

when you urge him on, whining about how you need him inside, caleb is slipping out of his shorts and boxers and tossing his shirt over his head, wasting no time in pumping himself with one hand and caressing your stomach with the other before lining himself up with your awaiting entrance.

he looks up at you again, another look.

"are you sure?"

and you grab onto his arms, eyes full of determination and desire.

"yes, wanted this for so long, please caleb!"

a relieved sigh.

"me too, pipsqueak."

when he sheathes himself into you for the first time, he can't bring himself to feel guilty anymore, not when this feels so right, not when you feel so good.

and when he begins moving within you, thrusting in and out and setting a steady pace, your sounds of pleasure filling his ears, the sight and feel of you enveloping his sense, he leans down to kiss you again, thinking that maybe, just maybe, you two were always meant to be together like this.

he wouldn't let you go. he would make you his properly, and you would always be together: caleb would make sure of it.

-

a/n: i know i know im behind... working on the other fics as we speak :x

-

[seat-safety-switch]

Where I live, it's hard to go out for a run in the middle of a bitterly cold winter. You still need to getyoursteps though. Or you'll die. Two kinds of people emerge from this necessity: treadmill people, and mall people. Unfortunately, the habitat for the latter types is quickly becoming extinct, and the remaining malls are bursting at the seams with joggers, walkers, strollers, and stroller-pushers. That's why the government hired me.

My project? To design the ultimate mall for people who were only at the mall in order to gettheirsteps. As a species, we've evolved past the requirement to go to a retail store and interact with another human being in order to buy things. So instantly we thought: just make a giant loop, put some furnaces in it, and good to go. No. The mind, it turns out, craves the artifice of a shopping mall.

There's precedent for this. One of the interns dug up this picture from the 4th century where a bunch of peasant children had drawn in the dirt a very realistic floorplan of the Mall of America, despite it not actually being built for nearly a couple thousand years. Come to think of it, it's a little weird there's a photograph of this. Maybe we'll have to talk to the boys down in Time Dilation Central. It's a good walk to that office. I can getmysteps.

Anyway, the project evolved at that point. We installed a bunch of mall stores selling tchotchkes that nobody would ever want. Sixteen cell phone stores. Three different places selling memory-foam mattresses. At one point, we even added a food court, but this made the health department really upset. Explaining to them that this was all artifice didn't dissuade them. Don't they know we're trying to make a place where we can getoursteps and don't have time to satisfy every little requirement about a "vent hood?" Nobody would be stupid enough to actually eat at any of these places if they were trying to stay healthy. Turns out, our first week, some dude rolled up to the New York Fries and bought a poutine for after his walk. When our scientists (in disguise: wearing hoodies over their lab coats) asked him about it, he said simply that he was "bulking."

Now, we all know what happened near the end of the project. When they heard that we had a viable place for legal human experimentation, these guys from the CIA moved right in. Started all these crazy experiments, like giving monkeys a pedometer to see if they'd want to gettheirsteps too. Adding a button where you could shock people who were walking too slowly in front of you. Turning the loop into a figure-eight so you had to dodge incoming joggers while you were trying to jog. I'd deny any responsibility for it, except those spy bastards hit a vein of gold. The Great Plains Mall is now the most successful indoor running track in history. They're gonna have the Olympics there next week. And I'll be there, getting my steps.

[witherby]

Ok ok hear me out.. fluttermouse but she’s angry…? Like yk how dick was an anger tween/teen. Yeah that’s how fluttermouse is, lol

Idk why but every time I read something about a young happy reader, I just imagine them as an angry teenager, that likes to party.

- from urs truly🌊

I'm tryna think about what reasons Flittermouse would have to be genuinely angry, aside from puberty shenanigans. I'm thinking there'd be some conflict amongst the family for their bad habits.

Dick: Gaslighting

He's a really busy guy. You get it! You know this! That's not the part that upsets you! What does upset you is when you finally lock him down to make plans to hang out with your oldest brother and he forgets about it, and when you call him out on that, pretends that there were never any plans to begin with.

Dick doesn't forget things! His mind is a steel trap! If he was supposed to take you to the movies or do some bonding with at a trampoline park, he would've remembered that! Don't get mad at him for things you never confirmed with him, Flitty! You're being irrational, there's always next time!

Tim: Overanalyzation

He's the smartest of your brothers, which you admire! He's also the worst person to talk to about anything you're stressing about!

Can't seem to understand the material you're learning in a class? Tim's gonna tell you that it was never your strong suit anyway. You're better off bribing the teacher for an A and focusing your efforts elsewhere. It's not like you need that skill, either; you're a Wayne, and money will get you the skills you don't have.

Crushing on a boy or girl that doesn't seem to know you exist? Tim's gonna tell you that your current emotional state reflects in poor taste and you'll get over this crush in a couple of months, so there's no sense dwelling on that person anyway.

He's not mean about your struggles, but he doesn't seem to understand that you can't just logic your way into moving on the way that he can.

Bruce + Hal: Time

Sometimes your dad just isn't around. He's Batman, of course his attention is divided between being a hero and being a father, but sometimes you just really fucking wish you could go knock on his door and ask for a hug, instead of crawling into his empty bed to snuggle a pillow instead. It's even worse with Hal, when a mission in space has him gone for months at a time and you miss him so terribly. They've missed a surprising amount of your achievements, moments you can't replicate or get back. At least they have the good graces to be just as upset about it as you are.

Damian: Interest

You love him a lot. You do! You love your whole family and you support their interests and jobs! They just don't necessarily support you back, including Damian.

If something doesn't interest him, he simply won't pay it any mind. When you take up roller skating, he tells you "that's nice" and then focuses instead on what he was currently doing. When you express a desire to try pottery, he puts in enough effort to tell you the best places to get supplies, then stops paying attention. When you deliberately get invested in a hobby he partakes in, he's 1000% down to talk your ear off about it, happy to partake in your shared love for that thing. It's very disheartening.

The only people you don't have significant issues with are Jason and Alfred. Alfred is always around, finding the time to be with you or give you a hug or listen to you vent your educational frustrations or take you somewhere if you ask him to. You try not to bother him too much, knowing his attention is similarly as divided as everyone else's, but he insists that you deserve to take up the same amount of time and space your family does, and will often seek you out himself if he knows you're trying to isolate.

And Jason doesn't let things fester, not like he used to before you came around, so if he senses you may be upset or discontent with him in any way, he's gonna make you talk it out with him and then do what he can to correct it. Some things can't be fixed, you both know that, but others can be improved upon. You don't like how lackadaisical he is with his injuries, so he puts a little extra padding in his armor and wears his helmet more than his half-mask. In turn, he doesn't like you going to Socialite events without any security, so you relent to keeping two guards around when one of your family members can't attend with you despite having the ability to protect yourself just fine.

All in all, your "angsty teen" years are pretty stressful, and do lead to a pretty big blow up at one point. It all works out eventually, though, because your family loves you just as much as you love them.

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

Poppy Playtime: True Ending (all toys saved, all secrets founds)

Synopsis: Angel saved all the toys inside PlayCo, and is now sitting outside waiting for the authorities to appear. What will happen now? Warnings: Canon-typical violence. Story is in 2nd person but Angel is their own character here. THIS HAS NOT BEEN PROOFREAD SO THERE WILL BE ERRORS. Have fun, byeee.

You are shaking.

Granted, this is the first time in the last two weeks that you aren't trembling due to fear of being killed or due to the cold, but anxiety. You're scared, still riding off adrenaline and without any idea of what could happen now, and you are certain that in any moment, you'll end up dropping unconscious on the floor. And yet, you don't. You cannot, really, considering your situation.

You take a deep breath, the smell of smoke filling your senses. Despite your best efforts, your hands are still dirty with dried blood.

Dogday lies against you, eyes turned towards the Sun. His white pupils seem to be sparkling in amazement; this is the first time in more than a decade that he has seen the Sun. Maybe two, who knows, you're too tired to do the math. You scratch his head, but he doesn't look away from the sky. The beautiful open sky. You had taken it for granted a few times in your life. Only a few. Never again. Never again...

Kissy is on your right side, anxiously holding your arm. Poppy is on your lap, still holding your Nokia phone and telling the kind 911 operator of your situation. You wonder how anxious she would be feeling if you were the one talking there... She was at the verge of tears before speaking up. "Understood, miss", she tells the second normal human she ever interacted with in the past decade. "Please warn them to be careful, we went through a lot and don't want to deal with even more".

You scratch her head. Huggy is next to your rundown car, on the other side of the parking lot, the mini critters and wuggies running around. Some of them grab the leaves and jump at the newfound texture. Others try digging in the dirt. One of them points at the car and ask each other how they can disassemble it. Catnap, standing right next to them, shakes his head. "This belongs to our Savior".

Baba is also sitting next to you. She watches over the mini nightmares debating over something you don't fully understand, as some of them climb over Catnap. He doesn't mind the act. Doey, on the other hand...

You stare at him. Little Simon is still sleeping on his arms, too anxious to join the others. Doey adjusts his own hat, his eyes going from corner to corner, especially towards where the little ones of Safe Haven are. Marie is taking good care of them, sitting on the concrete floor as they analyze flowers. Delight is next to her, tilting her head in curiosity as a centipede crawls over her hands, eyes sparkling. "This is fascinating!", she announces, happily stimming with her feet.

"... Doey?"

You reach your hand to him. He flinches before blinking, taken out of his trance. Upon noticing your worried stare, he forces a smile on his face: "I'm okay, Angel, no need to worry about me".

"And what about the other two?", you ask again, not letting go of him.

He's once again caught off-guard. You thought that by this point, the three kids would have gotten used to being equally acknowledged. Guess there's still work to be done, but we'll be alright. We have time, now. Just enough time.

"We're fine", Kevin grunts, looking away.

"Just tell me when it's too much, alright, kiddos? Don't want the sirens to scare you guys. They sound similar to the stuff back at PlayCo."

"I said we're fine", and there goes that familiar growl. "Shoosh, leave them".

"Matthew, let Kevin speak. It's okay for him to be upset".

"We can't scare the others"

"The others would like for all three of you to speak a bit", you reply, shaking your head. "Including Jack. Is he alright?"

"...", Doey shakes, before timidly nodding and fidgeting with his hands. "... I am".

You give him a smile. Dogday bumps his head against his shoulder, and Jack relaxes, his tense body softening. He repeats the gesture towards the critter, confirming that he'll be alright.

Pianosaurus and Yarnaby then bump their heads against your legs, both of them with plants hanging out from their mouths. Poppy jumps on your lap: "Thank you for the... Bouquet", you tell them, accepting the offering. Yarnaby purrs as a response, sitting on the ground. "Ollie, ya okay, kid?"

The baby long legs stares at you with that very, very energetic look of his, wrapped around a blanket and shaking in his lone seat next to yours. "It's fucking cold", he growls, grumpy as ever.

"Language!", Dogday warns him.

"We're not inside PlayCo. anymore, we can say whatever we want now, you dingus".

"Please don't have another argument before we arrive at the hospital", you ask the duo, sighing again. "... Want another blanket, Ollie?"

"I want a warm room away from this cold, that's what I want".

"Wait an hour or two, then".

"Urgh".

"You welcome".

You close your eyes, feeling the Sun against your skin. The Prototype's words echo in your head, the promise you two made still there:

These kids shall be safe and happy.

You can still hear the mechanical sounds his legs made when he walked. A part of you swears that it can feel him watching over your bunch from inside the factory, despite the cameras outside not being functional anymore. You don't doubt he would be capable of finding a way to watch the scene, though.

You stare at the burning parts of the factory in the background, and, before you can start doubting if this will grab the authorities' attention, you hear sirens in the background.

Cop sirens, to be exact.

Poppy looks up to you, Doey jumps on his seat, and you put the doll on Kissy's lap before jumping over Yarnaby:

"KIDS!", you call the others. "EVERYBODY, GET BACK THERE, THEY'RE COMING!"

Just one word:

FUCK.

Why did it have to be the COPS the first people to pop up, and not a fucking ambulance?! Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Just. Shit. FUCK (again). You are so, SO fucking lucky sometimes, urgh. Let's hope they don't scare the kids even more.

Huggy, Catnap, Marie and Doey help you retrieve the chaos gremlins back to the group. You count: All +100 of them are there, with no exceptions. You hold Doey's face and tell him to remain strong, you tell Kissy and Huggy that they have nothing to fear with you around, you assure Marie and Catnap don't make a murder plan, and you sit back on your seat.

The first car that appears makes your stomach curl. You stare at it, unmoving. The tension is palpable. The kids are anxious, terrified and horrified when the two cops get out of the car and turn to you.

You stare at them, suddenly more aware than ever that you have visible blood stains on your clothes and you must be looking like hell, and they stare at you in silence, approaching with their mean looks. Poppy moves on your seat, clinging to you even more, her call having just ended.

You stare at the cops again.

The cops stare at you again.

You bite your tongue. They aren't approaching you anymore, instead, stopping several meters away from your group, wide-eyed, and then you realize that they aren't reaching for their guns.

Finally, you roll your eyes:

"Do we have a problem here, officer?"

The guy you think is the oldest of the duo, a pale man with sunken brown eyes, seems taken completely off-guard for a moment. Bunzo clings to your leg, anxious. PJ Pug-a-Pillar tilts his head in curiosity, and you notice that Delight is waving at the duo.

"W...", the younger man's voice fails him. "What the-"

"Don't ya finish that sentence, there's kids there", you grunt, noticing the other cars appearing. "We need as many ambulances as possible, now. The kids needs medical attention".

"What happened there?", the officer demands, and his eyes go to the very much still burning piece of factory. You glance back at it for a moment before returning your attention to him.

"Executives", you shrug, aaaand more people pop out of the cars. "Tell your friends to back off, it's been a decade since these kids saw other people, and they bite".

"This is private property. What are you doing here?"

Private property, private property my fucking ass- "get your friends to back off, or else I won't say shit to you".

"You have no right-"

"Mister Officer, please, you must listen!"

You would have laughed at the guy's face upon seeing Poppy getting up from your seat. Catnap growls as a response to his voice tone, and you don't know if it's the sound he makes or his movements, but it seems convincing enough for the asshole to actually back off, and actually and properly inform the rest of the group to not approach.

"Thank you", Poppy mutters.

"Don't thank him", you scratch her head. "I am in private property because the owner of this frickin' place invited me in because he and these kids were stuck in there for the past decade. I need a dang ambulance for once".

"And who is the owner?"

You almost say Elliot Ludwig, but even your own tolerance for absurdity isn't high enough to buy that one. So you bite your tongue, you stay on your seat, and you hear more sirens echoing in the background.

"Long ass story", you mutter, before getting up, bag on one hand, Poppy in another.

You have no idea how or why, but the officer almost doesn't react when you approach him. His friend places a hand on his gun, but you don't react either, merely giving him the heavy bag.

"These are the documents", you tell him, watching the ambulances arrive.

"Did you steal these documents?"

"They were given to me", you half-lie, half-tell the truth.

"I'll have to ask you to follow me, ma'am, and tell me why there's a fire happening in an abandoned factory".

"W-wait, no!", Poppy desperately stares at you, wide-eyed. "T-they can't go, we need them!"

You merely unzip your jacket, exposing your very much still bleeding out shoulder and your very much still soaked in blood torso, and shrug.

You see people coming out of the ambulances. Bunzo runs to you, grabbing your leg as he stares at the officer, wide-eyed. "I-I won't let you take mama away!"

Well, there goes the cop's control of the situation, because now some of the minis also approach you, clinging to both your legs and back, and you know they look too realistic and move too naturally for them to be animatronics or robots. Other cops start moving to approach you, and you...

Yawn.

Damn, you're tired as hell-

A guy presents himself as the lieutenant, and another as the deputy chief. You tilt your head. Looks like your way of grabbing attention may have worked too well...

Marie's hand grabs your good shoulder. You don't react to her staring at the group, merely waiting for your permission to probably kill them or something worse. Despite what you wish you can do, you merely hold her hand. The deputy chief grabs the bag, and stares at the nurses who just got out of the ambulance before petting the shoulders of the first officer.

"Looks like we got big fish in our hands", he tells the guy. Uhm. Okay. "Go take these things to the ambulance. Let us handle the rest".

You blink, remembering what the Prototype told you about many people knowing about what PlayCo. was doing, but never doing anything about it. You stare at the man's eyes, and you aren't very good with judging people by looks but your stomach curls around itself, and you know one damn thing.

He stares at you with a certain disdain and hatred in his eyes. You smile. You hear a helicopter approaching, alongside a van from a news report. Your smile widens, a shit eating grin that goes from ear to ear as you realize who has the power over the situation.

"Looks like the mess you ignored finally caught up to you, eh, officer?"

You turn your back to the group, unafraid. "W-what's going on, Angel?", Dogday asks on his seat, terrified, as you put Poppy on his lap.

"Oh, a lot", you now grab your actual backpack, reaching for your water bottle as the kids stare at you, anxious. "A whole, whooole lot".

"What are they going to do?", Marie asks in a whisper. "Should we...?"

"Nope. We aren't killing anyone, pirralhada", you take a generous sip of water. "We just hit the jackpot".

You hear the number of people growing in the background. Good thing you told the kids to keep themselves quiet, and even better thing that they are listening.

"We're going to take whatever remains of PlayCo. down. And, most importantly, we'll make sure the people who didn't help you guys pay. But, right now?"

You turn towards the humans again.

"Right now, we gotta go to the hospital".

[psychopathonadiet]

Danny's eyeing the stranger at his table, trying to figure this kid out. He's not a ghost, he can tell, but he's definitely Something. Probably Not Human.

His parents and Jazz are still there, though, and they won't let him get away with asking 'rude questions' so he settles for staring.

"Kon" knows that he's staring at him, and frequently makes eye contact and raises an eyebrow or rolls his eyes. Danny doesn't care.

At some point, his parents finish eating and grab some measurement devices, waving them around "Kon" while he finishes his own meal. The other teen doesn't seem to mind, just huffing and sighing at the various noises the devices and his parents make. Fairly soon, Danny's mom and dad get what they wanted and race back down to the basement.

There's a small, awkward pause. Danny doesn't let it go for long.

"So, Mom and Dad said you're extra-dimensional, but not a ghost? Any chance you know what you are, then?"

Jazz looked offended on the other teen's behalf. "Danny! He's not a what!"

"Kon", on the other hand, shrugged with a grimace on his face. "Honestly, I don't even get the extra-dimensional part? I think your dad just assumed that. I was in the middle of teleporting when I ended up in your basement lab - is that a real thing? Actually, don't answer that - and he tried hitting me with a weird bazooka thing."

Danny and Jazz both stared at him this time. Danny was even more confused then before. "You say that as if it's common knowledge that teleportation exists."

Kon blinks, face blank, and Danny can see him mentally buffering for a second. "...It kind of is? At least, it's an open secret among the scientific community, and your parents are scientists, so I figured they knew." Danny sees Kon squint his eyes at him and his sister, gaze flickering between them, before he continued. "Wait, you really don't recognize me, do you? Like, it's not just you being polite, you genuinely have no idea who I am?"

For some reason, the other boy gestured at his tshirt as he said that last bit. While the weird S logo looked pretty cool, Danny had no fucking clue what it meant at all. "...No? Are we supposed to?"

Danny glances at Jazz sitting next to him, who is now ringing her hands and biting her lip in worry. Oh boy.

Kon's reply just cements the issue they've been presented with. "Okay. So. I think you're parents were right with the whole extra-dimensional thing."

Zeta Beams are a very finicky and powerful technology that require specific conditions to work properly.

Being shot with an unknown ray from one of Lex Luthors guns mid zeta was not one of those conditions.

Superboy, reappearing out of the zeta beam, now dazed and confused, stumbles and leans against the closest solid object and takes in his surroundings.

He’s in a lab of some sort, and whoever used it knew a wide variety of sciences. Chemistry equipment consolidated to one corner of the room while a mildly cluttered bench of mechanisms, welding equipment, and doohickeys take over another corner of the room. The entire workplace was bathed in a toxic green light coming from…

Kon turned and gawked at the massive swirling green vortex and pushed off the metal edge of the tear in reality that he had been leaning on.

His mind was running miles a minute. He was meant to be at the Watchtower and he’s here in some windowless laboratory and a portal that looks like something straight out of science fiction. He doesn’t know what to do but all of his scrambling thoughts screeched to a halt the moment he heard footsteps and an unknown heartbeat coming down a set of stairs he hadn’t noticed on his quick scan of the room.

He should have flown to the ceiling and hid or used his X-Ray vision to identify the threat but he was reeling so badly he just stood frozen in place, a foot or two away from the portal casting a long shadow that cut through the violently green glow.

A man in an orange jumpsuit barrels down the stairs with- is that a bazooka?

The orange wall of a human man whipped around the barrel to face him. “DIE GHOST!”.

“I’m sorry what?”

Kon didn’t get a verbal answer but he sure as hell got a physical one. The man pulled the trigger and a glowing green bullet of *something* shot towards him. Kon momentarily debated dodging out of the way with his super speed but thought better of it. Robin would tell him to stay still and show the threat that he couldn’t be harmed to shut down the fight before it could escalate any further.

Blocking his face from debris, Kon closes his eyes and lets the projectile make contact.

He expected to be thrown back into the strange vortex portal thing or feel the impact, but to his surprise he felt absolutely nothing. Whatever glowing green and white metallic stuff he was hit with, he was completely invulnerable to as a half Kryptonian.

(It is at this point where I sped the writing along to bullet point outlines)

- Kon goes hey wtf man I’m not a ghost

- Jack doesn’t buy it it might be a ghost trick.

- Jack slowly walks up to Kon with a Fenton bat.

- Kon stares at him arms crossed. He knows now he can’t be hurt

- Jack, making full eye contact with Kon and goes ‘you can’t fool me ghost’ or something and hits him over the head with the bat.

- Bat shatters over Kon’s head as Kon stares at him and does a “are you done?”

- as he says this Jack Fenton slowly raises a lipstick lazer

- Jack turns on lazer and Kon glares at Jack exasperatedly.

- Kon’s patience runs out. He grabs the lazer from jacks hands and crushes it in his palm.

- I’m not a ghost man. I was trying to zeta to the watchtower and now I’m here now can you stop??

- Jack doesn’t understand what those words mean. Mutters that this might be a fascinating new discovery and goes over to the tech corner

- Grabs a tsa metal detector wand looking thing and waves it over Kon, who hasnt moved and is now curious to see what this man will do knowing now that he can’t be hurt. (Later found that this universe boosts his powers a tad which is making him More Invulnerable)

- It beeps and jack looks at it and his face of confusion turns to a massive grin. He turns towards the stairs and shouts to Maddie that they have a extradimensional non ghost guest and to move the ghost gear out of the guest room.

- Kon is like what the shit why did this mans attitude chanhe so much

- kon is then temporarily housed by the Fentons whilst they are delighted to start on a new big project. they plan to make an addition onto the ghost zone portal to find the frequency of other dimensions and make a gateway between them using Kon as the tuning fork to find his dimension.

[katsu28]

love you always

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: lando plans a series of surprises for you on valentine's day. (2.4k)

a/n: happy valentine's day my loves!! here's something sweet <3 believe it or not it's 3AM and i wrote this all in one go so if you see any errors no you don't ;)

The surprises start first thing in the morning. 

Lando is up and out of the house for training long before you even stir, but made sure you woke up to something nice. When you shuffle out to the kitchen in much need of coffee to get your day going, you’re pleasantly surprised by a full pot of the good coffee made with beans you’ve always saved for special occasions, and pastries from your favorite bakery. 

A little note beside the box of mouthwatering baked goods reads a message from your boyfriend. 

happy valentine’s day, my love. sorry i couldn’t be there when you woke up, but i hope these make you smile. be on the lookout for more surprises today <3 love you always - LN 

The second surprise is waiting for you when you make your way to work. You’ve barely just walked into the office when you’re approached by Cass, one of your closest work friends. 

“Girl, you are one lucky bitch. I’d die if my man got me something like that,” She gushes, eyes gleaming. You squint at her in confusion.

“Sorry, what?” You say, unsure. She just smiles knowingly, tilting her head towards your cubicle. It isn’t until you lay eyes on your desk that you see what she’s talking about. 

A giant bouquet of red roses with baby’s breath scattered amongst the bunch sits on your chair, wrapped in colorful paper and tied together with a string. Nestled in it is another note from Lando, this one with the message embossed on crisp cardstock—

told you i’d have more surprises :) if i know you (and i’m pretty sure i do), you’re too caught up with the roses to notice the other thing, so look on your desk. maybe wear it tonight? love you always - LN

Lando is right, you hadn’t noticed the small box sitting right in the middle of your desk, seemingly nothing until you open it carefully.

A necklace sparkles out at you—a pendant of your birthstone, hanging on a delicate chain. It’s absolutely gorgeous, and another beautiful necklace to add to the ever growing collection of jewelry Lando’s gifted you in your time together. 

Wear it tonight. 

There was no doubt that Lando had planned a date for tonight, but you’d been unsuccessful in weaseling any details out of him these past few days leading up to today. 

“Can you just tell me what you’ve got planned?” You whine, pouting over at Lando where he’s putting away his shirts in the wardrobe. “Like, what restaurant are we going to?”

“Um, no.” He shoots you a look that screams judgement, but you know it’s all in good nature. “That would completely ruin the surprise.” 

“But I need to figure out what I’m going to wear,” You reason, sitting up quickly. Lando pins you to the spot with another disapproving look that you ignore, digging in your metaphorical heels. “What if I show up looking like an absolute slob because you didn’t tell me it was somewhere fancy? That would be your fault, not mine.” 

Lando finishes his task, coming over to the bed where you’re sat cross-legged, and props himself up on his elbows right in front of you. “First of all, you never look like a slob. Even when you’re on the last day of your hair wash cycle and you’ve just come back from a run, you’re still the most beautiful girl in the world.” 

“That’s disgusting, but…oddly sweet of you.” 

“Second of all,” He says pointedly, poking you in the leg for interrupting him, “If I tell you where I’ve made reservations, you’ll spend all day thinking about it and you’ll freak yourself out like you tend to do. So no, I’m not telling you what I’ve got planned.” 

Well, no one can ever say Lando doesn’t know you. He knows you too well, really. Knows your tendencies, exactly what’ll be running through your mind.  

“I hate how perfect you are,” You sniff, wrinkling your nose at him. 

“Yeah, I love you too, baby.” 

You know Lando is probably busy with training so you don’t call him, but you do shoot him a thank you text, to which he returns with a whole slew of love related emojis. 

You’re not usually one to enjoy being showered with gifts, but the fact that he’s planned all these surprises to make sure you know he’s thinking of you has butterflies fluttering in your chest. 

Lando never ceases to make you feel so loved, all the time, even when he’s not physically there with you. 

You’re hard at work when your Cass calls your name around noon, drawing you out of your focus. 

“Hey, there’s a food delivery person asking for you at the front desk.” 

“Are you sure? I didn’t order anything,” You reply, brows creased in curiosity. 

You hadn’t ordered anything, but thinking about food makes you realize you’d completely forgotten to pack your lunch before you’d left the house this morning. Oddly enough, you don’t even remember seeing it in the fridge on the shelf where it usually is. 

She shrugs. “They’re asking for you.”

You thank Cass quickly, making your way to the lobby to meet the delivery person. 

“Hi!” You say politely. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but I didn’t order anything. Maybe you’ve got the wrong address?”

One look at the restaurant name on the bag almost has you taking back your words, because it’s from your favorite little cafe in the city, and if you take a deep enough breath, you can almost smell the mouthwatering aroma wafting from the paper bag. 

The poor delivery driver looks as puzzled as you feel. She blinks, looking at something on her phone before tilting her head. “Uh, I don’t think so? The system said the order was placed by a Bob N? Do you know a Bob that would order takeaway to this address?” 

You have to fight the urge to laugh. Of course it was Lando who’d ordered takeaway. Another Valentine’s Day surprise for you, it seems. 

“Wow, I’m so sorry for the confusion. My boyfriend, he must’ve had it sent here without letting me know,” You explain, feeling your cheeks blaze warm. “Yes, it’s for me.” 

“Oh my god, that’s so cute! Your boyfriend is so sweet!” She gushes, passing over the bag.

“Yeah, he is,” You chuckle. “Thank you so much, have a great day! Sorry again for the mix up.” 

“You too, happy Valentine’s Day!” 

Upon opening the bag when you get back to your desk, you see something tucked in beside the takeaway container. Yet another note, not printed nor in his handwriting, so he’d probably made a special request for the restaurant to write it. 

hope you’re hungry! enjoy your lunch, baby. day’s halfway over, see you soon <3 love you always - Bob

This time, you do call Lando as you munch on your food. 

“Hi, baby!” You chirp happily. 

“Hey, you,” He greets back, sounding glad to hear your voice. He always does whenever you give him a ring. “What’s up?” 

“How’d you know I’d forgotten my lunch?” 

“What? You did? No way!” Lando sounds a little too smug to be innocent, and it isn’t hard to connect the dots now. 

You chuckle, a little disbelieved. “Did you seriously hide my lunch just so you could have takeaway delivered to my office?” 

“I did no such thing. Did I accidentally toss it out whilst I was taking out the rubbish last night? Maybe. But we’ll never know, will we?” 

“Sure we won’t. Thank you, by the way. I’ve been craving this all week.” 

“I know. Heard you muttering about it in your sleep the other night. Fuckin’ weirdo.” You can almost imagine him grinning that big toothy smile of his that you love, shaking his head at you. “Anyways, good news. I managed to convince Jon to let me off early today, so I can pick you up from work.” 

“Really? How’d you swing that?” 

“Might’ve let it slip I’ve got something special planned for us tonight and he caved. That man is such a sucker for love, it’s crazy.” 

“So you’ll tell your trainer what we’re doing tonight, but you won’t tell me? That’s messed up, Norris,” You say teasingly. He laughs. 

“Well, he’s not the one I’m trying to surprise, you muppet. You’ll find out soon enough, don’t you worry,” Lando tuts. You hear someone say something on his end of the line that Lando gives a muffled reply to, but he’s back before you know it. “M’sorry, I gotta get back to it. I’ll see you at five?” 

“I’ll be waiting. Tell Jon I say hi and thanks for giving you some freedom today. Love you always!” 

“Love you always.” 

-------

The rest of the workday goes by without any more Lando surprises, but you’re still nearly buzzing with energy because of the fact you get to see him earlier than you’d expected. After a long day of work, your wonderful boyfriend is just what you need. 

You see him through the doors before he sees you. He’s leaning against the side of his sleek Porsche, cap backwards on his head as he squints through the waning sunlight in search of you and looking unfairly handsome while doing so. You even pause to snap a sneaky photo of him because he just looks so good. 

When you finally exit the building, Lando beams, holding a hand up in greeting. 

“Hi, gorgeous.” He smiles, leaning in for a kiss as soon as you get within arms’ length of him. “Missed you.” 

“Missed you too, Lan.” You mean it. Even though you’ve only been apart for a workday, he’s been on your mind throughout it. You don’t know how you survive race weeks without being with him all the time. 

“Ready to go home?” 

“Never been more ready. Maybe I’ll worm some information about tonight out of you on the way.” 

“Sneaky girl. Right, I’ll tell you this, it’s a nice restaurant. Somewhere we’ve been before.” 

“But not my favorite restaurant, because you already got me food from there today.” 

“Observant, aren’t you? No, not that one.” He opens the passenger side door for you to get in and you do, wracking your brain for any idea of where Lando would be taking you in a few hours. “Alright, don’t think too hard about it. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself now.” 

“Rude.” 

“Look, is it alright for me to lightly suggest what I think you could wear?” He asks, pulling out of the car park and onto the road. You shoot him a look that tells him to be careful, but still nod slowly. “That dress that I like. The swishy one with the thin straps that make your boobs look—” 

“Lando.” 

“Sorry, sorry, got a little carried away,” He says sheepishly. “But yeah, that one would be perfect.” 

“That’s a nice one,” You hum, tilting your head in thought. “You’ve got good taste after all.” 

“Um, yeah, I know. I bought it.” 

-------

You’ve got on the dress that Lando suggested, but there’s one thing you always forget about this specific one. The zipper on the back is near impossible for you to get all the way up on your own. No matter how hard you try, you’ve always had to get Lando to help you that last bit. 

“Lan, could you c’mere a second?” You call down the corridor. Footsteps echo right away, and then he’s in the doorway, adjusting the cuff of his dress shirt with intense focus. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” 

“Could you zip me?” 

“Could I—oh, fuck.” 

You make eye contact in the mirror in front of you and Lando freezes right where he is, mouth ajar, blinking at you like he can’t believe you’re real and in front of him. 

“Help?” You urge, fighting an amused smile at how absolutely floored he looks. 

He gives his head a shake, rushing over to help you. Shaky fingers slide the delicate zipper up until it’s good. “Sorry, I just—every time you wear that dress I think I forget how to breathe a little bit.” 

“I’m flattered.” 

“You should be. Baby, you look absolutely beautiful.” His gaze flits to your necklace, the new one you’d gotten today, and his mouth curves into a smile. “That’s a nice one. Wonder who got it for you?” 

“My boyfriend, actually. Dunno if you know him, but he’s kinda the best. Massive forehead though.” 

“Oh, you’re funny,” He huffs, nose wrinkling in overdramatic offense that makes you giggle. “Kiss?” 

“You’d have my lipstick all over your mouth.” 

“Does it look like I care? I wanna kiss you.” 

Rolling your eyes playfully, you let him kiss you. While you’re expecting a short kiss, Lando takes it a step further, two hands sliding behind you to dip you backwards a little bit to deepen it. To say you’re taken by surprise is a slight understatement, but you go with what he’s doing. 

You kiss him until you’re breathless, pulling back with a hand splayed over his chest. 

Lando grins goofily with lipstick smudges all over his mouth. “Totally worth it,” He says, looking absolutely giddy.

Once you’ve reapplied what had rubbed off on Lando, you’re off through the city in Lando’s favorite car. The more familiar your surroundings get, the more you realize where he’s taking you, and your suspicions are concerned when he pulls up to the valet. 

The restaurant where you’d had your first date. 

Lando always tells you how he’d known he’d wanted to spend the rest of his life with you on that first date, even before your entrees came. You always tell him you’d known it then too. 

“Did I do good?” He asks hopefully, holding out his elbow for you to loop your arm through as soon as he’s helped you out of the car.

“You did perfect, Lan. I might cry, actually.” 

“No, don’t do that! You’ll mess up your mascara and then you’ll look like a raccoon for the rest of the night.” 

You scoff lightly, successfully blinking back tears. “Wouldn’t want that, would we?” 

“We would not. Though I’d still think you were the cutest raccoon out of all the raccoons.” 

“You’re so dumb. I love you.” 

“Love you, babe. Always.” 

A nice dinner at a restaurant dear to your heart with the love of your life. It’s all you could’ve asked for, and Lando has gone beyond that to show you how much he loves you. 

On a Valentine’s Day full of wonderful surprises, this is the best one of all.

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