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[arjun7643]

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[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (01)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 4.2k

Aliyah's Notes: this is my first series on here so go easy on me (#adele) pls + some things are not going to be obx canon ... at least some of yall are warned. anyw im so excited for this cause lord knows the amount of time ive wanted to make a fake dating fic!!!!!!! anyw i hope you all will enjoy this i had so much writing the first chapter

The clatter of high heels against the marble floor echoed in perfect sync with the ticking of your watch. Every step was deliberate, poised—just like your life had to be. Perfection, it seemed, was not a choice but a requirement for survival.

You adjusted your sunglasses, your gaze skimming over the glamorous expanse of the fashion agency's lobby. People buzzed around you like bees in a hive, their worlds spinning, fueled by the weight of names, status, and flawless images. You smiled politely at the receptionist, offering a nod, though your mind was miles away.

To the outside world, your life was golden. The covers of magazines, the invitations to high-society events, the million-dollar deals with luxury brands—it was a fantasy that others could only dream of. It was your dream some time ago, too. 

But today, your reality felt like walking on the edge of a tightrope, the safety net fraying below you.

Your phone vibrated in your purse, interrupting your thoughts. You fished it out, your pulse quickening when you saw the text from your lawyer. Three words that sent a chill through your carefully constructed façade.

"We need to talk."

Your heart sank. The issue of your visa had been hanging over your head like a storm cloud for months now, growing darker by the day. You’d known this was coming, but knowing and confronting it were two different beasts.

Fame didn’t shield you from the cold bureaucracy of citizenship laws, and your time was running out. One misstep, one delay, and your golden empire could crumble. In a matter of months, you could be deported, left behind by the very country that had built you up.

With a deep breath, you silenced your phone and slid it back into your purse. This wasn’t something you could dwell on right now, not in public. Your expression remained serene, even though your mind was anything but. You had a shoot in an hour, a charity gala that evening, and at some point, you had to meet with the lawyer to discuss "options"—a word that had started to feel more like a trap than a solution.

As you exited the building, the cool breeze caught your hair, the city unfolding before you like a glittering stage. New York City. You looked out at the streets, the people, the life you fought so hard to build. The car pulled up to the curb, and you climbed inside. On your way to your lawyer.

You stepped into the law office, the familiar scent of polished wood and stale coffee wrapping around you like a tight band.

"Ms. Y/L/N, good afternoon," Nicolas Ramirez, your lawyer, greeted you, standing behind his desk. His expression was composed, but you knew him well enough by now to spot the unease in his eyes.

"Hi," you softly smiled at him. Your heels clicked softly on the floor as you sat down, crossing your legs tightly, as if holding yourself together. "Let’s just get straight to it, okay? How bad is it?"

Nico sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Your visa expires in less than three months."

You felt your stomach twist, your worst fear inching closer to reality. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. "And what about the appeals? The extensions?"

"We’ve exhausted every possible option—work visas, artist visas, even humanitarian grounds. Immigration laws are tightening, and without a permanent solution like citizenship or residency, you’ll be forced to leave the country."

"Leave?" Your voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the full weight of the nightmare you’d been living with. 

Leave? Go back there?

The country you had fought so hard to escape. The country where your childhood had been marked by suffocating poverty, where your parents had already planned your marriage before you even turned 15. Where your dreams had been a distant, impossible hope until that one person changed your life forever.

You felt your throat tighten. You couldn’t go back.

Nico’s gaze softened slightly, his voice gentle but firm. "I know what this means for you. I know how difficult—"

"You don’t know," you cut him off, your voice sharper than you intended. "You… You don’t know—I can’t go back there, Nico. I just… I can’t."

He nodded, giving you a moment of silence to compose yourself, but the pressure in your chest only grew. You took a deep breath, trying to keep the panic at bay.

"So what now?" you asked, fighting to keep your voice steady. "Is this it? Am I out of options?"

"Well… There’s one option we haven’t explored yet." his tone was cautious, like he knew what he was about to say would open a new can of worms.

You furrowed your brow. "What?"

"Marriage."

The word hung in the air, thick and heavy. You blinked, unable to comprehend at first. "Marriage?" you repeated, as if saying it aloud would make the absurdity of it clear.

"It’s one of the few legal paths left," he explained, leaning forward slightly. "Marriage to a U.S. citizen could secure your green card and, eventually, permanent residency. It’s a legitimate route—many people in similar situations have done it."

You sat back in your chair, the tension in your body coiling tighter. The thought of marriage, of attaching yourself to someone you barely knew for the sake of staying in the country, made your skin crawl. You had already sacrificed so much for your freedom, for your career. And now this?

"You’re telling me the only way to stay here is to marry someone I don’t even love? Just to avoid being sent back to a country I don’t belong in anymore?"

"Not necessarily," Nicolas said, his tone measured. "It wouldn’t have to be a traditional marriage. Think of it as a business arrangement. It’s a legal partnership—nothing more. And it could save your career, your life here."

You crossed your arms tightly, your mind racing. Marriage. It was a word that had haunted you ever since your parents had tried to force you into it as a teenager. Back then, it was their way of controlling you, of keeping you bound to a life you didn’t want. Now, it felt like the universe was throwing the same chains back at you, just in a different form.

"I’ve compiled a list of potential candidates," Arjun continued, sliding a piece of paper across the desk toward you. "People who might be open to an arrangement like this. Athletes, businesspeople—individuals who might benefit from a similar deal."

You glanced at the paper but didn’t pick it up. The names blurred in front of your eyes. This wasn’t how your life was supposed to go. You’d already lost your family, fought tooth and nail to get out of your country and build something for yourself in the U.S. And now you were at risk of losing everything—again.

"I don’t know if I can do this, Nico," you said quietly, shaking your head. "I’ve already sacrificed so much. My family… I gave up everything to be here. And now you’re telling me I have to give up even more?"

"I’m not telling you that you have to do anything," he replied, his voice calm but firm. "I’m saying this is an option. One that could keep you here, legally. But the decision is yours. I’m just laying out the possibilities."

You swallowed the familiar knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. 

"I can’t go back there," you whispered, more to yourself than to him. "I’ve worked too hard to get here. I can’t lose everything."

He nodded slowly. "Then maybe it’s time to consider unconventional options."

You finally picked up the paper, scanning the names but not really seeing them. Your heart was racing, your mind spinning with a thousand thoughts. Marriage. It felt like a trap, just like it had back then. But maybe—just maybe—it was the only way to keep your future intact.

"I’ll think about it," you said, standing up and smoothing the front of your dress. "But I’m not making any promises."

"Of course," he said, standing as well. "Just let me know. We’re running out of time, but I’ll support whatever decision you make."

You nodded curtly, turning toward the door. As you stepped out into the cool city air, your chest tightened with the weight of everything you stood to lose. The lights of New York City flickered ahead of you, just out of reach, as though the life you’d built here could vanish at any moment.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt truly afraid.

Your phone buzzed, dragging you out of your spiraling thoughts. You fished it out of your purse, heart skipping a beat when you saw the name: Nina. Your agent.

With a shaky exhale, you answered. “Nina, hi.”

“Hey, babe!” Nina’s voice was all cheer, a stark contrast to the storm inside you. “So, I have amazing news! Guess who just got major campaign offers coming in? You! Chanel, Loewe, and oh my God, don’t even get me started on Louis Vuitton. The year starts beautifully for you!”

You should’ve felt ecstatic, but instead, the words passed over you like an echo. All you could think of was the countdown Nico had set in motion: three months. Three months before everything you’d built here would be taken away from you. 

“That’s… amazing, Nina,” you managed, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Really amazing. Thank you so much.”

“Are you okay? You don’t sound like your sunshine-self.” Nina’s voice softened, concern creeping in. “What’s going on?”

There was a pause. Nina had been there through all your ups and downs, from your rookie days as a model to your rise in the industry. But the immigration issues, the fear of being sent back to a life you couldn’t return to—that was something neither of you could control. 

“Three months?” she repeated, her voice going higher. “Oh my God—what the fuck? I thought… I thought you had more time.”

“So did I.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Nina, I don’t know what to do. I’ve called Nico and he tried everything—extensions, appeals—but the laws are tightening, and he said there’s only one real option left.”

There was a brief silence before she asked, “What option?”

You bit your lip. “Marriage. Nico says I could marry someone for a green card.”

“Marriage?” Nina’s voice came out in a shocked squeak. “Like a fake marriage? Babe, are you serious?”

“I don’t know!” you burst out, frustration and fear colliding. “I don’t know what to do! I can’t go back there. I can’t. My parents… My parents already wrote me off as dead, and if I go back, I’m stuck in a place I spent my entire life trying to escape.”

Her voice softened. “I know, honey, I know… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound—God, I can’t imagine how scary this is for you.”

You took a shaky breath, grateful for her understanding. Nina wasn’t just your manager—she was one of the few people who you actually close to. She was a 34 years old American-Filipina woman. You trusted her with your life. 

“Okay,” Nina said, her voice more focused now. “Okay, now listen. We’ll figure this out. I know Nicolas wouldn’t suggest something like this unless it was a real option. Do you trust him?”

You sighed. “Yeah. I do. But the idea of marrying someone just to stay… it feels like another version of what my parents wanted for me. Like I’m back in that same time of my life.”

“I get it. But this isn’t like that. You’re in control this time,” Nina said. “If this is what you need to stay here, it’s not about love or being owned by someone.”

You nodded to yourself, trying to absorb her words. “Well, um, Nico gave me a list of potential candidates—people who might be willing to make an arrangement. You’ll never guess who’s on it, though.”

“Who? Shawn Mendes? Harry Styles? Tom Holland—”

“Rafe Cameron,” you said, cutting her off. “The basketball play—”

“Yeah, I know who that man is, Y/N. His reputation is a total mess right now. It’s not surprising for him to be on that list.”

“Exactly,” you muttered. “It’s a perfect business arrangement for him, too. He needs a way to look respectable again, and I need to stay in the country.”

“So, you’re actually considering this?”

You leaned against a streetlamp, staring at the city around you. “I don’t know. Maybe? It just feels wrong. Like I’m giving up a part of myself.”

“As nicely as this can be said, you are being dramatic here, babe.” Nina sighed softly. “Look, I’m not going to push you either way, okay? But I do think you need to look at it from a different angle. You’re not giving up on yourself. You’re doing what you need to do to stay here, to keep fighting for your career and your future. And Rafe—or whoever you’ll end up marrying—is not your parents. He’s not going to control you or he’ll get slapped.”

You closed your eyes, trying to let her words sink in. She was right—you were in control now. This wasn’t the same as being forced into a marriage you didn’t want. This was about survival. About keeping your life in the U.S. intact.

"Yeah… I guess you’re right," you said softly, feeling some of the tension release from your shoulders. "I just need time to think."

TWO WEEKS LATER.

The soft glow of the late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting warm light across your living room. After two relentless weeks of back-to-back fashion shoots, campaign meetings, and gala appearances, you had finally found a moment of peace. You curled up on the plush sofa, sinking into its embrace as the hum of the city outside became a distant murmur. The oversized, loose pajamas you wore were a far cry from the designer gowns and couture you’d been draped in recently, but they were yours—soft, comforting, and familiar. Your hair was twisted into a lazy bun under a satin bonnet.

You exhaled a sigh of relief, finally feeling the weight of exhaustion slip from your shoulders as you closed your eyes.

Buzz. Buzz.

The sound of your phone vibrating on the coffee table pulled you from the calm. You groaned softly, reaching for it with one hand, expecting to see another notification about a meeting or event. Instead, it was a message from Nicolas.

“Any thoughts on who you're going to marry? We need to move quickly if we want to ensure everything goes through in time.”

The familiar weight of the situation you’d been trying to avoid crept back into your chest. Two weeks had passed since your lawyer had first laid out the reality of your visa situation. In those weeks, you'd thrown yourself into work, hoping the constant flurry of activity would drown out the anxiety. But now, in the quiet of your home, the decision loomed large again.

You typed back, hesitating for a moment before hitting send.

"I haven’t decided yet."

A few seconds later, the reply came through.

"We need to discuss this in person. Can you come to my office today?"

You frowned, your eyes darting around the cozy room, not quite ready to leave your home.

"How about you come here instead?" you typed. "It’s been a long week, and I’d rather talk in private."

There was a pause before the three dots appeared, and then the message followed.

"Sure. I’ll be there in about an hour."

You put your phone down and leaned back against the cushions, staring at the ceiling. This wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have, but it was necessary. Time was running out, and you knew you had to face it—whether you wanted to or not.

An hour passed in a blur, and soon enough, you heard the knock at your door. You padded across the room in your socks, your oversized pajama pants swishing softly as you walked. Opening the door, you found Nicolas standing there, looking as composed as ever in his tailored suit.

“Come in,” you said with a smile, stepping aside to let him in.

Nicolas entered, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. "You look... relaxed."

You gave a soft chuckle, gesturing to your pajamas. “Don’t mock the pj’s until you’ve tried them.”

He smiled slightly, but there was a hint of emergency in his expression as he took a seat in the armchair across from you. “I know you’ve had a lot on your plate lately, but we really need to make a decision.”

You nodded, sitting back down on the couch, hugging a pillow to your chest. “I know… I’ve just been avoiding it.”

“And I noticed,” he said, pulling out a folder from his briefcase. “But with the visa expiration approaching, we don’t have much time. We need to find someone—someone who understands the situation and won’t make things harder.”

You bit your lip, holding a smile, glancing at the folder in his hands. “You bought the list?”

He nodded, and handed it over, and you flipped through the names, recognizing some immediately. Athletes, businessmen, even a couple of actors/singers. And then there was Rafe Cameron, his name standing out like a bold headline.

“I’ve looked at these,” you said quietly. “I just… I don’t know who to choose. None of ‘em feel right.”

Nico leaned forward. “It's not about right or wrong. It’s about who can offer the least amount of personal complications and help you secure your residency. Rafe Cameron, for instance—he’s someone who could benefit from this arrangement as much as you. His reputation needs mending, and this could be a mutually beneficial situation.”

You stared at Rafe’s name, the memories of seeing his name in the news about how much of a womanizer he was… Could you really tie yourself to someone like him in a fake marriage?

“Alright, but I need you to help me decide,” you admitted, looking up at him.

He nodded, his expression understanding. “Of course, that’s why I’m here. Let’s break it down together and figure out who makes the most sense, not just legally but for your peace of mind.”

Nicolas opened his briefcase again, pulling out more detailed files on the potential candidates. He laid them out neatly on the coffee table, each name with a stack of information—financial records, personal histories, public perceptions. It was all very businesslike.

You leaned forward, looking at the pages in front of you. Each one represented a major decision, a shift in your life you weren’t entirely ready to accept, but you knew you didn’t have much of a choice.

“Let’s start with the most practical options,” he said, sliding the file on Rafe Cameron toward you. “I know his name has come up before. He’s wealthy, influential, and… well, let’s be honest, he could use a boost to his public image right now. It’s a good match on paper.”

You stared at Rafe’s name again, tapping the edge of the file with your finger. “Yeah, but he���s also a bit of a mess, isn’t he? I mean, the media paints him as this… whore, and his personal life is always talked about. What if that blows back on me?”

Nicolas raised a brow. “That’s something to consider, but you also have to think of the benefits. His public image might not be very clean, but he’s powerful. Marrying him would put you in a stable position, and if it’s a business arrangement, his private affairs don’t have to concern you.”

You exhaled slowly, still feeling uneasy. Rafe Cameron was trouble, and you knew it. But at the same time, trouble might be exactly what could make this work—for both of you.

“What about the others?” you asked, flipping through the files. “There has to be someone who’s… less complicated.”

“Well,” he said, tapping another file. “there’s Owen Turner. He’s a succesful tech entrepeneur, keeps a low profile. No scandals, no messy reputation. He’s reliable, but you’ll have to approach this differently. He’s more private, less likely to want his personal life on display.”

“And boring—plus, he seems like the type of white guy to want a traditional wife. Like he would expect me to cook for him every night… and he has an ugly name.”

“Owen won’t be expecting home-cooked meals, Y/N. He’s a tech guy; he probably lives on energy drinks and instant ramen,” Nico pointed out, trying to steer you back to the serious topic. “But if we position it as a legal arrangement, he could see the value in it.”

You sighed, leaning back on the chair. “Okay, maybe Owen is the safer options. But can you imagine our wedding announcement? ‘Succesful Tech Entrepeneur Married Famous Model: They Share a Love for Cats and Instant Noodle.’”

Nico shook his head, trying not to smile. “Focus, please. This is a serious matter.”

“Right, right, sorry…” you said, wavering your hand dismissively. “But, what do you think about Rafe?”

“Rafe Cameron is the most straightforward option,” he said, his tone now more measured. “He’s already in the public eye, which means there won’t be as much of a shock if you’re suddenly married. Plus, his need for good press aligns with your need for stability.”

“And personally?”

He smiled softly, a rare gesture from him. “Personally, I think you should go with the person you think you can manage.”

You nodded, appreciating his honesty. Staring at the stack of papers in front of you, Rafe Cameron’s name glaring up at you from the top of the list. Every name on the list had its pros and cons, but something about Rafe’s file felt different. Maybe it was the intensity of his media coverage, the scandals, or the way he dominated the headlines for all the wrong reasons. But as much as you hesitated, his name kept pulling you back.

“I know his reputation isn't spotless,” Nico said, sensing your hesitation, “but in this situation, a clean reputation isn’t the priority. You need someone powerful, someone with enough influence to make this arrangement stick without getting tangled up in emotional complications.”

You nodded, again.”But I don’t know if I can handle all the baggage that comes with Rafe Cameron. His public image is a trainwreck. Wouldn’t that only complicate things more?”

Nico leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. “Possibly. But think of it this way: his personal life is already so chaotic that a stable, respectable marriage might be exactly what he needs to repair his image. And that’s where you come in. You’d be helping each other.”

Your eyes dropped back down to his file. "Do you think he'd even agree to something like this?"

Nico chuckled softly. “If there’s one thing I know about men like Rafe Cameron, it’s that they understand deals. His reputation is hanging by a thread, and a marriage to someone like you—someone with a pristine public image—could be the ticket to restoring his credibility. It’s a win-win, really.”

You considered Nico’s words. He was right. Rafe had everything to gain from a marriage of convenience, just like you. And while his scandals were messy, they didn’t define him entirely. He was still an elite athlete, one of the best in the game, and with the right PR strategy, you could both come out looking better.

But the thought of marrying someone like him—a notorious playboy with a history of messy breakups—made your stomach churn. 

“You know,” Nico continued, “if this were just about your visa, we’d be having a different conversation. But this is about your entire future. Your career, your freedom to stay here, everything you’ve built. I’m not saying it’s an easy choice, but it’s one worth considering.”

You sighed, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. "What happens if it falls apart? What if things with Rafe go wrong?"

"That’s why we’ll draft a contract," Nico reassured you. "This won’t be a traditional marriage, Y/N. You’ll both have clear boundaries, and legally, we’ll protect your interests. If things go south, you’ll be covered."

You stared at the file a little longer, then closed your eyes.Rafe Cameron. He was cocky, possessive, and reckless—everything you usually avoided. But maybe that was the key. You wouldn’t have to worry about him trying to control you or make this anything more than a business transaction.

It would be messy. It would be complicated. But it would also keep you here, in the country you’d fought so hard to call home. And maybe, just maybe, it would be the solution you both needed.

“Okay,” you said softly, your decision finally settling. “I’ll do it.”

Nico’s eyebrows shot up, a little surprised at how quickly you’d made up your mind. “You’re sure?”

“No,” you admitted with a weak smile. “But I think this is the best option. I’ll marry Rafe Cameron.”

Nico nodded, closing the folder with a satisfied smile. “Good. I’ll set up a meeting with him. We’ll get the ball rolling.”

Oh God, you were going to marry Rafe Cameron…

chapter two

[ms-demeanor]

Due to some stuff brought up in recent posts I believe it is time to once again extol the virtues of Ms-Demeanor's Patented Where Did I Put That Fucking Paper Organizational Binder.

Hello! I am a disorganized adult! This is the system by which I manage my important shit like pink slips for my car and medical records and tax information.

You're going to need:

A 3-Ring Binder

Transparent Sheet Protectors

Notebook dividers (optional but VERY useful)

A backpack (optional)

So the way this system works is you put the sheet protectors into the binder. You can either use the dividers to divide the binder into sections or you can label some of the sheet protectors to make different sections but what you are generally going to do is make sections of the binder labeled things like "taxes" or "vet" or "doctor" and put a few sheet protectors in each section.

Then all of your papers with important information get crammed in that folder. You don't organize them, you don't sort them by date, you don't alphabetize. You put things vaguely relating to taxes into the sheet protectors in the taxes section. You put things relating to cars in the cars section. You don't even attempt to make this readable - you're not using sheet protectors so that you can read each page and keep it legible, you're using sheet protectors because it's a cheap plastic bag that will sit nicely in a binder.

You CAN put stuff into the individual sheet protectors when you get it, but let's be realistic you probably WON'T do that, so just tuck individual papers into the front of the binder until you get to a critical mass of paperwork then take an hour to sit down and sort into categories and put it in the binder once every six months to three years (depending on how frequently you get paperwork). Sometimes these sections will outgrow their original allotted space - since my spouse had a transplant surgery the medical section has had to become its own folder - and that's okay. If you end up with multiple folders just keep them together (this is why the backpack is an option, and one I strongly recommend).

Because yeah, if my organization system relies on opening up a drawer and putting something where it belongs as soon as I get the paper, I will simply not be organized. It's not going to happen. But I can handle a messy stack of paper that sits in one place and grows until it is time to shove it into a binder. I can't organize things for thirty seconds a day every day but I can organize things for an hour once every year or so (maybe two hours every five years when I sort out stuff I don't need like copies of warranties for parts on a car I don't own anymore).

When my mom died she had about fifty pounds of paper files in her office that were neatly organized in a system that didn't make any sense to my dad, my sister, and I. I ended up sorting through those files for twenty hours, tossing out copies of paid invoices from ten years ago and student handbooks from my junior high school. I reduced one filing cabinet, two desk file drawers, and a foot-high stack to a six inch binder that I gave to my dad. My mom died five years ago; two months ago my dad asked me about a medical document and I was able to tell him to go look for it in the medical section of the binder. It was there, because ALL IMPORTANT SHIT GOES IN THE BINDER.

Where is my birth certificate? In the binder. Where is my tax return from 2017? In the binder. Where is the record of my dog's last rabies shot? In the binder. Where are the records for my life insurance? In the binder.

A lot of what people consider "being organized" breaks down to whether or not you can find the specific things that you're looking for. Does my binder look nice? Is it aesthetic? Does it have color-coded tabs and papers all laid out neatly? Absolutely fucking not. But if you ask me where to find a paper I know that I can do so within about five minutes of shuffling through the pile of letter-folded sheets that I pulled out of the appropriate section of the binder.

I've discussed the Where Did I Put that Fucking Paper Binder before, but now it is time to expand that concept to the Backpack of Important Shit.

You likely have Important Shit that does not fit in a binder. Some of my Important Shit that does not fit in a binder is stuff like jewelry and the spare key for my car. Other stuff - the reason I decided to bring this up at all - includes my backup hard drive and packaging (including product key codes) for pretty much all of the software that I own. This is also where I store printed out copies of the recovery codes for most of the online accounts that I have.

There's a lot of weird fiddly shit that we have to have that we might not access all that often. This is the kind of stuff that might end up in junk drawers or under sinks or in disused laptop bags or kicking around under a bunch of papers in a desk drawer.

It doesn't matter so much when that weird fiddly shit is a set of hex keys or a utility knife or a protractor or a copy of a student handbook but it DOES matter when it's something that you might need to put your hands on in a hurry. If your computer crashes, you're not going to want to track down the software in the back of a filing cabinet and the backup drive from somewhere in the bowels of your desk. If you lock your keys in your car you are not going to want to figure out if your spare is in a junk drawer or the old purse where you keep semi-important stuff or the tin on your desk that has buttons and pins and headphone covers. Just put it in the Backpack of Important Shit and when you need it you know where to look.

So anyway, if you are a person who is a minor disaster who has trouble finding important things when you need them please don't think that you have to get your life together and have a nice organized filing cabinet or clear plastic bins full of documents or a neatly divided storage closet where everything from board games to backup drives has its own neatly labeled place. Just assign ONE LOCATION for important shit and start putting the important shit there. It doesn't matter if you have a filing cabinet where you keep old copies of homework and printouts of online orders and family history records - you do not need to keep everything that is file-able in one place and depending on what level of catastrophe you are it might be detrimental to you if you try to do that. It doesn't matter if you have a jewelry box where you keep your collection of gauges and wrist cuffs; if you are going to stress out about where grandma's ring is when you're digging through your collection of cheap earrings and silver pendants then *do not keep grandma's ring or any other Important, Vital, Cannot Be Lost jewelry in with your day-to-day wear*.

I live someplace that has fires. My binder got upgraded to my Backpack of Important Shit when the fires were getting uncomfortably close to the house I was living in and I wanted to have one bag to grab if we had to get out fast. Once I did that, I never took the binder out of the backpack and the backpack has now made three moves with me and has meant that I've had my birth certificate handy when I needed it in the middle of a move between two states, I was able to provide a history of my cholesterol panel going back six years to a visiting nurse, and I was able to give the exact names and contact info of my spouse's previous surgeon to the hospital when I had unexpectedly moved to a new state with three bags and my work computer at the beginning of the pandemic.

Get yourself a backpack of important shit and a folder of where the fuck did i put that paper. It is so much easier to search a backpack for important shit than to go through an entire house and it is so much easier to flip through a binder than it is to dig through a filing cabinet.

Anyway good luck and happy adulting.

[everyonewooeverywhere]

NSFW BLOG | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

boss!yunho who's so horrible to you that you think he hates you.

you started at your new job two months ago. you're first corporate job. and your supervisor, jeong yunho, just won't let you breathe.

on your first day he called you into his office. he stared you down, eyes grazing every inch of your body and told you, "go home and change." and when you'd looked at him wide-eyed and asked "why?" he'd pointed at your skirt and said, "it's way to short. you look incredibly unprofessional." your face had burned in embarrassment as you walked out of his office, completely missing the way that his eyes lit up when your little skirt bounced as you walked out of his office.

and he works you to the bone, giving you assignment after assignment until your forced to stay overtime. and you do it without complaint because you finally want to get on his good side. and he watches from his office as you try so desperately not to fall asleep. he loves what a good girl you are. and if you do happen to fall asleep, he'll wake you up by calling you to his office once again and scolding you for taking so long.

when you finally get to your breaking point he gets so excited. you have your first performance review, but everyone else's took so long that he has to give it to you after hours. so you come back to his office for what feels like the 100th time. and he berates you for nearly an hour about how little you've been contributing to the team and how your work has declined in quality significantly since you were hired. and he tells you that they might need to let you go.

and he about comes in his pants when you break into tears. sobbing into your hands. apologizing profusely. "i'm sorry, mr. jeong. i'm trying so hard. i just feel so lost, and i don't know what i'm doing wrong. i want to do better. i can't lose this job. it's all i have. i'll do anything."

he rises from his chair and comes around his desk to your side, and you look up at him with teary eyes. he cups your cheek and wipes a tear, making sure to smudge some of your mascara, "anything? are you willing to do anything ms. l/n?"

yunho's thoughts are full of ways he could absolutely ruin you. thoughts of you forced to stay under his desk all day warming his cock in your mouth. you spending these late nights bend over his desk until you've squirted all over the floor, and he makes you clean it up with your tongue. making you turning in topless photos of yourself on top of your usual paperwork.

you nod and he smiles down at you, "good girl."

"what did you have in mind?" you whispered. desperately trying to avoid looking at his crotch where his obviously hard cock was straining in his pants.

"on your knees, pretty girl."

you move without hesitation, "yes, sir."

he groans at your compliance. "god, i'm not even gonna have to break you, am i?" your wide eyes look up at him from your spot on the floor, "oh but i am gonna ruin you, baby. ruin you for anybody else."

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[russellsppttemplates]

It is what it is (Lando Norris)

It takes Lando a while to notice how you always assume he has something else to do whenever you need his help

Note: english is not my first language. It's slightly angsty but has a good ending! ✨️ is this good, is this bad? I'm not too sure

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: alludes to the lack of quality time between a couple

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Look at you, beautiful girl", Lando twirled you as he stepped inside your bedroom, noticing you were getting ready, "are you going somewhere?".

"Yes, I have an appointment at my optometrist", you smiled, "Anna should be here soon to take me".

"Is it a joint appointment?", Lando squinted.

"No, you muppet", you giggled, "my optometrist needs some exams on my eyes, so I have to today because that's when the ophthalmologist is there and they recommended that I had someone take me there because they want to dilate my pupils and, depending on how it goes, my sight might be a little affected for a couple of hours", you offered, making sure you had everything you needed to take.

"You could've told me and I would've taken you", Lando added, accepting the kiss you placed on his lips.

"I thought you had a meeting this afternoon", you reasoned.

"I do, but I could have moved that around a little and fit everything into the schedule", he reasoned back.

"It's okay, don't worry about that", you mused, "That's Anna - bye, handsome!", you kissed his lips one last time before making your way out and downstairs to meet your friend.

The ride to the office wasn't long, you and Anna taking the time to catch up and learn about the new gossips she had to update on you.

"And how's Lando? I haven't seen him in a while", Anna stated after you sat in the empty waiting room waiting to be called.

"He's been busy lately - he has a meeting today with the team, they're also launching a new collection for Quadrant and they're investing a lot in the social media content, so he's been busy recording a lot of videos and stuff", you offered, never shy whenever it came to talk proudly about your boyfriend's achievements, "and we're also on the countdown for the season to begin, so there's training and meetings and all that".

"Sounds like a busy schedule, no wonder why I haven't seen him - I'm surprised you even see him at all", she joked, grabbing her phone once she remembered she had something to show you.

You were surprised yourself at every bit of time you were able to spend with Lando, as lately it had become near impossible to do so apart from sleeping in the same bed, and even that was rare as he was often travelling between Monaco and England on a weekly basis.

"Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?", the doctor called you before you stepped inside the exam room, starting with the procedures.

The check up itself didn't take long despite the twenty five minute wait for the drops to dilate your pupils, "Don't forget your sunglasses, Y/N!", the secretary reminded you before you stepped outside.

"Thank you, have a good afternoon", you smiled before tapping Anna's shoulder, "Give me your arm so I won't trip", you mumbled.

"Is your sight that bad? The doctor said it should be good enough", Anna worried as she was about to open the door.

"No, it's fine, but if I'm clumsy on any good day, imagine how probable it is for me to fall on some stupid step or raised cobblestone", you argued as you both chuckled, making your way to her car.

Before you went home, your friend stopped by the pharmacy to get you the relief eye drops you'd have to follow the medication regimen with for the next few days, stopping by your favourite bakery so you could enjoy some sweet pastries.

"Can you even read these prescriptions?", Anna asked as she read the regimen you had to comply with.

"Stop making fun of me, you say that as if I'm almost blind", you swatted her arm before reading - trying to - the words, "fucking hell, am I?".

"I can barely read them myself, Y/N! They're so tiny I don't know how they give these to eye patients! Is Lando going to be home soon? That way he can help you with this", she suggested.

"Can I even see the time? At least that", you mumbled as you looked at the large numbers on your phone, "he'll probably take a while still - I can set the alarms on my phone and I'll memorise the different drops", you tapped your head.

Once it was all settled and you assured Anna she was fine to go home and you'd be perfectly well on your own, you walked her to the door before going back to the living room as the sun was no longer shinning outside and you could lay down on the sofa.

The nap you were taking was cut short by the door being shut, making you rub your forehead before an alarm rang. Getting up to head to the bathroom where you kept the supplies, you found Lando taking his trainers off.

"Hi baby, how was your appointment?", he asked as he put the footwear away.

"It was good, need to go and apply my drops", you smiled, turning the light on and grabbing the right box of medication.

"Is that what the alarm was for? I thought we had gotten a new security system I was not aware of", Lando joked as he watched you wash your hands.

"Yes, these instructions are so small to read that Anna thought it would be best to have alarms so I wouldn't mess it up since it's still a little bit blurry", you mused.

"Do you want me to do it?", Lando offered.

"No, it's fine - I'll have to do this for the next 48 hours anyway, so I might as well get used to it", you stopped talking so you could apply them, almost holding your breath until the drops fell.

"My lovie", Lando whispered on your ear once he felt it was okay to approach you, hugging your mid section from behind and kissing your neck as you put your hands on top of his.

.

You were adding the finishing touches on the present wrapping, the shiny gold string fiddling between your fingers as you tried to tie a bow with it around the paper bag handle, when Lando stepped inside your home office.

"That's looking pretty", he mused as he handed you the tape you were looking for on your desk.

"Thank you", you offered before placing the sticky piece down, "the bag is quite plain and even though the present inside is what will get her attention, it should come in nice wrapping".

"Who is this for?", Lando asked.

"It's for Maya's birthday tonight", you smiled, admiring your work.

"Is that tonight? Fuck, this week has flown by", Lando cursed, "I can't make it - will you let her know, please? I'm sorry I can't go", Lando pouted, "if she has to pay for having made the reservation with me in it, let me know and I'll pay my part!".

"I had already told her I'd be going alone, so she made my reservation without a plus one", you mused, remembering the conversation that came around the time of booking the venue.

Lando was leaving late in the afternoon for a trip with Max, Ria and some of the Quadrant athletes, so like you predicted, he couldn't attend the dinner with you.

"Oh", Lando offered.

"Max told me about your plans and when Maya told me the date, I assumed you wouldn't be able to go", you explained with a tinge of sadness and conformity in your voice.

"Well, it seems you guessed right", Lando chuckled despite the uneasy feeling on his chest.

You seemed sad that he wouldn't be able to join you, but at the same time you didn't? Lando put the topic at the back of his mind for now, heading to the bedroom so he could pack the last minute things.

"I was thinking of wearing this dress", you said once you joined him inside a while later, taking the steamer out of your drawer and setting it up to get out any kinks and wrinkles.

"That one is one of my favourites on you, but then again, they all are, I think", Lando mused, kissing your cheek as you waited for the steamer to be up for use.

"Figured it would be a little cold out tonight, so I chose this one, and that coat over there", you pointed.

"You'll be the most beautiful in that room", your boyfriend complimented, pecking your lips before he let you continue your task.

A couple hours later, Lando found himself restless as he scrolled through the posts and stories of Maya's birthday dinner, "Ria", he called, "what would you think if your partner made plans without you because they figured you wouldn't be able to go anyway?".

Ria exchanged a look with Max and Tara before she spoke, "did they ask me if I could go?", she offered.

"They didn't, but truth be told it's not like you have given them much to believe that you could join them", Lando mumbled the last part.

"I think I'd be a more 'it is what it is' at the start if I saw that it was something out of their reach, but I'm not sure I'd put up with it if it was genuine disinterest from them", Ria explained.

"It's not disinterest! They're just busy and shit at organising their schedules", Lando groaned defensively.

"Okay, okay", Ria calmed the room down once Max squinted his eyes at his bestfriend, "then I guess they would have to make sure they do better", she shrugged, "is everything alright?".

"Yes, yes, sorry for snapping just then", Lando offered her a tight lipped smile.

Everyone carried on with what they were doing before the existencial question, Max seemingly as stuck on it as Lando, "is this an hypothetical thing or are we calling people by their names and working this out?", he whispered to Lando.

"It's fine, just a loose thought I had there", Lando grumbled.

.

Lina 🤎

Hi, Y/N!

You won't bother, don't worry - I think I miss having someone other than my boyfriend to talk to 😅

Would it be okay if you visited in the afternoon? Our morning routine is still a shitshow (literally and figuratively), so we would appreciate it if you came after her first nap, around two pm?

One of Lando's older couple friends had a baby a couple of weeks ago, and while you were dying to meet their baby boy as soon as he came earthside, you were respectful of their adjustment period so you waited for them to be up for visitors and were ready to comply with whatever schedule they offered.

"It smells nice in here", Lando commented as he stepped inside the kitchen, "what delicious food are you making and can I please have a bite?".

"I made a little tray for us, but the big one is to take for Lina and Theo - I can imagine they don't have much time for cooking, so food is welcomed by them", you smiled, setting the cheese grater down once the measurements were like the recipe stated.

"Are you going to visit today? I have some streaming with Max scheduled for this afternoon", Lando added.

"Lina told me that this afternoon was the only time they could handle some visits - you know how it is with new parents and newborns and all of that -, I didn't want to change their schedule when I have some flexibility with my schedule", you explained, "I'll give the little one a big kiss from you, then?".

"Well, in that case, I should give you two big kisses then - one for you", he kissed your lips once, "and then this one for the little one", he smiled before kissing you again.

You shared lunch in a semi comfortable silence, Lando telling you a bit about the stream they would be doing and you sharing some work updates from your end.

When Lando gets a text in the middle of watching Max send his virtual car to the curb, "who might that be that's brought such a big smile to your face?".

Lando checked the photo to make sure the baby's face was covered despite his friends having already posted him, tuning the phone to show the camera, "Y/N met our friends' baby boy for the first time", Lando gushed.

"That's the little nugget", Max cooed, "she looks very happy with a baby on her arms", he wiggled his eyebrows, "have you met him already?".

"No, I haven't yet! She could only go this afternoon and we had this so...", Lando tsked, admiring the picture one last time before setting the phone back down. The baby was perfectly nestled on your arms, hiding his face on your chest as you looked down at him with a big smile on your face.

Now that he thought about he, he hadn't seen such a big smile in quite some time, and he was really starting to believe he was the reason behind it. He was absent, more than usual and more than the standards of your relationship considering his job.

The air had shifted around you once you came back from meeting Lina's little boy and Lando could only pinpoint it to the subject he thought about earlier.

"Lan, did you hear what I said?", you asked as you showed him another picture of you touching your noise in the little boy's.

"It's just... are we okay, baby?", Lando questioned. Even though it seemed like he was the only one that felt there was something wrong - different at least -, surely you had noticed it too.

"What makes you say that?", you asked.

From the serious tone, your boyfriend mentally slapped himself. Whatever it was, he was on the wrong and you had indeed noticed it too.

"I've noticed you don't ask me for help with stuff like driving you somewhere or accompanying you to places, which is fine if you want to do things on your own, I'm not saying you can't have your own independence, you know I'm not controlling you in that way - obviously! Fuck, I'm rambling! What I mean is, I have been taking notice that you just assume that I'm not available, and your assumptions are not unfounded, and it makes you sad, and I myself am upset that it has reached this point", Lando stated.

"It's not great, I can tell you that, but we knew it would be like this, your schedule is not the regular nine to five - it is what it is, Lan", you argued.

"But it's not, not all the time anyway! I want you to know you can always count on me!", Lando stated, "Y/N, you are one of my priorities and I never want to let you down - I'm going to make sure that from now on I spend more time with you and that I'm by your side a lot more", he rubbed your palm, "damn, I was so stupid, I'm sorry, lovie".

"Lando, these things happen", you attempted, "now we can work on it".

"You can count on me for little and big things in life - you need to go to the post office? I'm there helping you put the letter in the box. Dinner with your friends? I'll find it in the schedule to go and I don't care who I have to tell no to!", he pointed his finger, "I never ever want you to feel like you don't belong in my life or like I don't want to be involved in yours, Y/N - I'm so so so sorry that it took me so long to notice it".

"It's in the past", you smiled, pecking his lips softly, "now, look at this cute little nugget, he's so cute, we have to go there another day so you can meet him, and I think Theo won't mind another traybake".

[thehauntedetheral]

Yan Mentally Unstable (Dark) ^

• Yan and you were happily married for 2 years when one day he gets a call that you died in an accident.

• Yan who was going insane every second as he thinks how you are no more with him.

• How could you leave him? He just can't live without you.

• How could he live without hearing your laugh, voice. Without seeing your beautiful face, smile. Without holding you in his arms, cuddle you in sleep. JUST HOW????

• You were like his breathing. Since hearing the news you are no more he can't breathe properly.

• When his parents tries to console him he shouts at them with hot tears streaming down his cheeks " How can my y/n leave me in this world all alone?" " I can't breathe properly, how will I live without her???" "You are all pranking with me y/n has to be alive. You are all joking right??"

• Is having a mental breakdown, panic attacks after every two hours and in between them non stop crying.

• Descending into madness rapidly. Scratching his arms, legs with his nails until blood comes out.

• Hugging your clothes close to his chest, inhaling your scent while thinking about you. He smells like blood, tears and your perfume now.

• Seeing him like this his parents decide to put him in an mental asylum.

• But before they can reach him and take to asylum yan has ran away with your clothes, photos and stuff while his blood is spilled all over the floor he has been sitting all day without eating or drinking since he found out about your dead.

• His parents search him everywhere but he is nowhere to be seen. They file a case to cops for some help.

• Few days has passed by when his parents got a news about him through cops.

"Ms. Your son has toured the driver who killed his wife in hit and run case and murdered him brutally." The police told his mother. He toured and killed the driver in such a sick and painful way that even the cops of so many years are disgusted while examining the body.

"Where is my son now, officer?" Your mother in law asked worried yet scared that yan has gone insane and would do anything.

"Well mam your son has killed himself on y/n gravestone with a letter saying I have gone where my love, my y/n is."

Please let me know through comments what you feel about this fic. Enjoy reading.

Requests are open!

For more yandere reading:

[ellieslittlewh0re]

HELP PALESTINE • donation links. • educate yourself. • how to help. •

౨ৎ 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈

𝑨.𝑨𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟣 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟤 - 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟥

⟢ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝖱𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖮𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖶𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇 𝖠. 𝖠𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

⟢ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖠𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉 (𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝖽-𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝟥𝟢'𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝟣𝟫-𝟤𝟤 𝗂𝗌𝗁) 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍

𝐚/𝐧 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝟥 :)

It will be a month tomorrow since you started working for Ms. Anderson, and honestly, you got comfortable.

You easily fell into the routine of everything- making breakfast, getting her son ready for the day, and if you had to leave the house for something- whether it be grocery shopping, errands, or special requests made by Ms. Anderson herself, you'd drop him off at daycare.

Hell... you started to like it. I mean who wouldn't? Playing house in a mansion, never having to use your own money to buy anything, and of course, there's her.

Sure, she was gone for about 80% of the time, some nights you wouldn't see her at all, but when she did come home at a decent time, things were tense.

You tried engaging in conversations with her, asking her about her hobbies, her job, and just about anything to get to know her better, but she always found a way to cut it short.

And because of this, you thought you weren't reaching her expectations for how she wants things done, and you kinda woke up everyday expecting it to be your last day of employment, but that never came.

Abby, of course, wouldn't dream of firing you. You knew all the right things to say to her son when he was having a meltdown, and had a way about you that made her feel at peace even after a long day at the office.

Plus, you looked good around the house.

She liked seeing you play with her son on the floor, fully engaging yourself in his fantasy world, but she also loved seeing you reach for something on the top shelf in the kitchen, standing on your tippy toes, and your skirt riding up just enough to give her a taste, and she'd always use that image to occupy her mind later in bed- or even, at work.

As much as she liked you for the job, it also drove her fucking crazy that out of all people, it was you.

She felt like a loser for it, how you'd occupy her every thought, and how wrong she felt for it.

You worked for her, and you were young, barely old enough to even begin to figure out what you want out of life, and that can't be her.

Can it?

-

The house was quiet again, but not for its usual reasons. Carter's father had picked up this morning since the weekends were Dad's turn with him, and Ms. Anderson was in her gym.

You were in the kitchen, washing and cutting

a variety of fruits you had picked up the day prior at the farmers market.

The knife was heavy in your hand, slicing through the fibers like butter, and you couldn't help but peek your head towards the back door.

The double-wide French doors, on top of the generous amounts of windows, gave you the perfect view into the backyard, but more importantly, the perfect view of the guest house-sized detached gym.

And it was almost like Abby knew you were thinking about her because she walked out, rag hanging over her shoulder, and a cut-sleeve muscle tank showcasing the efforts of her strenuous workout. You sliced, being too trusting with your hands since your eyes were definitely not paying attention to the blade.

The knife came down hard on the cutting board, slicing through the tip of your finger.

Shit.

You ran to the sink and turned it on, holding your finger underneath the stream.

The droplets of blood contrasted against the stark granite, and you started to panic.

What a mess, you thought.

Abby opened the back door, wiping away the sweat on her upper lip with the rag, but she must've noticed your panic because she's furrowing her brows at you, "What's wrong?" She asked sternly, but with so much concern, already walking over to you.

"Oh, it's nothing." You shrugged it off, and even laughed a little, motioning your non injured hand at the bowl of fruit, trying to distract her from the mess in the sink, but she didn't care about the fucking fruit when she saw how much blood you were losing.

She immediately switched into parent mode, and held your wrist up, wrapping the lengths of her fingers entirely around it.

"Here, hold this, and squeeze." She placed crumbled up paper towels around your hand, and finger. Honestly, the amount of them seemed excessive, but Abby could never be too careful with you.

She guided you down the hall, past the office and your room, and all the way down to the other end of the house, which is where the primary bedroom was. At least, you thought that's where it was. It was the only room you weren't allowed in.

Confirmed- It was her bedroom.

It was spacious- carved, detailed wooden furniture, and floor-to-ceiling windows that would beautifully light up the space, but were instead hidden behind fully closed curtains. And not to mention the built-in bookshelves on opposing walls, stacked with both new and old literature.

"Sit." She placed her hand on the top of your shoulder, and you obey her, too busy soaking in the new atmosphere, and gawking at the disgustingly large and comfortable bed you were sitting on.

Sure, the rest of the house is just as nice, but this was her room.

Abby retreated into what you could assume was the master bath, rummaging around in the cupboard before returning and kneeling at your feet that dangled over the edge.

"This is going to sting."

She damped a cotton ball with the clear liquid, unfolding the paper towels from the wound, and started to dab at the skin, seemingly taking her time based on her feathery light touches.

You winced at first, but slowly let yourself lean into her care.

It felt like progress to you, and Abby felt like shit. You got hurt under her roof, under her care.

That's the last thing she wanted.

Underneath all the blood, it was actually a very minor cut, just some cream and a bandage would suffice, which was a relief because Abby was already planning a trip to the ER in her head.

You held the bandaged finger, and looked up as she stood, "Thank you. I'm sorry for making a mess-"

"Don't apologize." She paused you mid- sentence. She didn't care about the mess, and it honestly upset her that you'd even apologize in the first place.

Can't you see how much she cares about you?

She sat down beside you, letting out a deep breath that she had been holding while fixing your cut.

Being that close... your knees, and the tops of your thighs... all so accessible under the flap of your skirt.

She felt like she could pass out honestly.

You felt awkward, and so did Abby, both for similar reasons.

You, on one hand, felt like being in her bedroom was forbidden. You slept so many nights picturing what it would be like. You wondered if it was messy because she never let you clean it, and what color her sheets were, what kind of things were on her nightstand, speaking of-

You looked over to the small bedside table, a lamp (not as important), an opened book facing down seemingly to mark where she left off, and a pair of simple, black framed glasses.

What you do know- 1. She likes to read, 2. She wears glasses while reading, and 3. You really want to kiss her.

And the reason for Abby's unease was because you were in her room, sitting on her bed. The same bed that she'd touch herself on while thinking about you.

And even though she was disgusted by herself for it, it oddly turned her on more.

Maybe it was just a buildup of stress and the fact she hadn't slept with anyone since the divorce. Not because she didn't want to, she just didn't have the time to go out and meet anyone new.

She's kinda old-fashioned that way. She didn't want a one-night stand with just anyone, but if it meant she could taste you just once, she'd change her ways.

The tension was obvious at this point- so obvious that neither of you could ignore it anymore.

But still, Abby tried. She refused to make the first move out of respect, and you figured as much since you were way younger than her, but who gives a fuck about respect when she's looking at you like this?

Pupils blown wide, half-hooded behind sultry eyelids, and clearly, even though she was looking at you, her head was somewhere else.

She was thinking about how your lips would feel on hers, how soft your skin was in the places she hadn't seen yet, and what little noises you'd make when her tongue was between your thighs.

She was fucked.

You leaned in, not intentionally, but your body was going on an instinct- an instinct to be touched, to be held, and you wanted her to be the one to do it.

"Abby..." You breathed, and you felt a warmth pool into your lower stomach. Just saying her name versus the usual "ma'am" or "Ms. Anderson" had you lose all sense of what this really was- a job.

Your lips were hovering over hers at this point, and you leaned in more to compensate for the fact Abby was leaning away, fighting with herself against what she knows is the right thing to do, and what she really wants to do.

"We can't do this", Abby stuttered, but still made no effort to create a distance, if anything, she was loosing the moral battle with herself.

You moved your hand from her knee and up her thigh, sliding your fingers inward, "Why not?" It wasn't a genuine question. You didn't care for a list of reasons why this shouldn't- or couldn't happen, and your sticky, sweet voice made that clear to her.

You nudged your lips against hers, tempting her, but not fully giving in like how she was hoping.

Abby's fists tightened by her sides, and your hand placement radiated a pulse between her legs.

Your back arched as you half-lifted yourself off the bed, leaning in the rest of the way to close the space, and kissed her.

It was a simple peck, the kind you pull away from to see how the other person would react, but as you're pulling away, her lips were back on yours.

It was deeper this time, more than a peck but still felt conservative. But when Abby's hands come up to your face, holding the sides before slipping her tongue inside, something switched.

She stood, still kissing you as she climbed on top, pushing you back on the bed, and now fully on top of you.

Her chest bumped against yours, and both of you exchanged muffled moans between kisses before she pulled away altogether and got off the bed.

And, of course, Abby felt bad about this. She didn't want you to take it the wrong way, but if she kept going, she felt like the god she claimed she didn't believe in would smite her with a bolt through her fucking ceiling.

You were confused to say the least, still lying on the bed, and propped up on your elbows looking at her, awaiting an explanation.

Her foot tapped on the floor, her hands on her hips, and looking down, "I- um-" She cleaned her throat, her face hot from embarrassment, and other reasons.

She didn't know what to say, I mean, what could she say other than the fact that she really, really wants to, but can't?

She finally looks up, and seeing you there, all laid out, your skirt ruffled high on your thighs, she wishes she never stopped in the first place.

She fought with herself, drowning out all the thoughts of what could have been, and smiled, "Thanks for the fruit."

⟢ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @aouiaa @macaroni676 @sheluvslilith @sapphicsuperstar444 @lmaoo-spiderman @williamsangel

reminder!! I don’t tag ageless bogs

[archangeldyke-all]

Ceo sevika being jealous about another ceo on another company trying to get reader to work for them🤭🤭

LOVE THIS

men and minors dni

"sevika, love of my life, my gorgeous girl, you're being ridiculous!" you laugh.

"i am not, she's trying to take you from me!" sevika growls from the passenger's seat.

usually, you drive the two of you to work and she drives you two home. today, though, you're driving home because you're worried sevika might actually crash the car she's so pissed off.

"who does she think she is, huh? ambessa medarda, what kind of fucking name is that?! all posh and fancy in her suit, trying to take my fucking wife from me--"

"she's not-- sevika!" you cackle.

ms. medarda had come in for a meeting with sevika, the two of them have been negotiating a deal for weeks now. over the countless meetings you'd attended with sevika and ambessa, you'd gotten to know the woman-- her coffee order, her favorite sandwich from the deli across the street-- normal things for a personal assistant to notice.

ambessa must have noticed your noticing, because she handed you a business card after this past meeting, and whispered under her breath to you. "i've been looking for a new personal assistant. give me a call if you ever get sick of this place and want to see the world."

you had told sevika with a chuckle, assuming your wife would find the suggestion of you leaving as ridiculous as you had.

you were wrong.

"fuck her. fuck this whole deal. she can go fuck herself if she thinks she can just waltz into my office, my business, and flirt with my fucking wife."

"she did not flirt with me!" you cackle. "she's on her fifth marriage to a man, sev, i don't think i'm her type."

"of course you're her type, you're everyone's type." sevika grumbles. you snort and reach across the center console to grab her hand.

"well, you're my type." you say. sevika huffs. "i don't think she even knows we're married baby. i think she was just genuinely asking for a new assistant."

"that's still fucking rude! you're the best assistant i've ever had and she's trying to fuckin' poach you from me."

you snort. "baby, it's business. it's all rude."

sevika huffs. it's quiet for a few minutes, you let your wife stew while you try not to laugh at how unnecessarily possessive she's being.

you pull into the parking garage, and sevika holds a hand out. "don't get out." she demands, running out of the passenger's side and around the car to open the door for you. you cackle.

"thank you, dear." you say, kissing her cheek. sevika smiles a little before letting her angry pout return. you snort. "you know i'd never leave you, right? not at work, and not in life."

sevika sighs and intertwines her fingers with yours as you walk toward the elevator. "i know." she mutters. "it's just... i show you the world, right?" she asks.

you coo and wrap sevika up for a hug. "sev, baby." she relaxes in your arms as you gently sway her in the middle of the parking garage. "you treat me wonderfully. we travel for work and leisure often. we eat well every night. we wear tailored clothes and drive luxury cars. but i don't really give a shit about any of that because all i really need is you." you remind her. "ambessa could offer me the world and i'd still turn her down baby. she's just not you."

sevika stays wrapped up in your arms for a few more minutes. you guys get a few strange looks from neighbors and security, but nobody says anything. when she finally pulls away, her eyes are red-rimmed and shiny, and she's got a shaky smile on her lips-- the same one she wore on your wedding day.

"okay." she says. you smile at her. "but the deal with ambessa is still off. i want you to cancel all my meetings with her first thing tomorrow morning."

you burst into laughter, and sevika smiles at the sound.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: LEE KNOW X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: NON IDOL! AU, FEM!READER, CEO!READER, SECRETARY!LEE KNOW, OFFICE SEX, FOOD MENTIONS, ALCOHOL (WINE), FIRST-TIME RELATIONSHIP SEX, PET NAMES (KITTEN, KITTY), DIRTY TALK, DOM! LEE KNOW, SUB! READER, STRONG BOY LINO DOES CARRY READER, DADDY KINK, ORAL (F. REC), GROPING, SPIT, FINGERING, BEGGING, TEASING, PROTECTED SEX, PRAISE, FINGER SUCKING, ALLUDES TO MORE ROUNDS, ALLUDES TO AFTERCARE ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.6K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Minho wasn’t unaware that the women in his office stared at him like a piece of meat. He passed by them every day when he walked in and heard their whispers. They truly sucked at whispering. And even for such a large company, office gossip got around very quickly. 

     He always ignored them, he didn’t care what they thought about him. He just walked to his desk with two coffees, sat, and got to work. Checking over his boss’s schedules for the day and any notes left on his desk after he left last night. Ears perked up when he heard everyone else greeting their CEO when she walked in. He looked up from his computer as Y/n greeted her employees.

     “Morning Ms. L/n,” He greeted as he stood with her cup of coffee

     “Good morning Mr. Lee,” Y/n smiled and thanked him for the coffee, “Anything important on my schedule today?” 

     Minho grabbed his tablet and coffee, following her into her office, “Just a board meeting after lunch ma’am,” Minho said as he closed her office door behind him.

     “Alright,” Y/n sighed, setting her coffee and bag down on her desk, “Thank you Minho.” Y/n smiled

     Minho nodded and headed back to his desk. Busing himself answering emails and phone calls. It was the weekend so the office wasn’t super busy. Everyone mainly taking it easy till clock out time. Minho was happy the time was flying by today. 

     Around lunch, he heard his phone ping. He turned the screen on a saw a message

Y/n: free tonight?

     Minho smiled as he leaned back in his chair 

Minho: depends. Why are you asking? Y/n: just seeing if you want to come over to mine after we're off for dinner Minho: I’m free Y/n: see you after work then.  Minho: technically, I see you in a few minutes to go over your meeting material  Y/n: 🙄

     It was odd. Talking to his boss, and hiding it from the office. Though it was very easy for them to hide it. They were in their own little world most of the time. But he had some concerns at first. He knew HR would be on his ass if they found out. 

     If it wasn’t for Jisung and Felix setting them up on a blind date, he’d just be her secretary. And if he hadn’t convinced her that it was fine and that they were outside of work. Now almost a few months later they were doing alright. 

     “Hey, Minho!” One of the ladies in the office called. He looked up at her as he set his phone down. Truly, he didn’t know her name. 

     “Yeah?” he asked 

     “If you’re not busy tonight, would you want to grab some drinks with me?” She was so hopeful 

     “I already have plans for tonight,” Minho told her

     “Oh, that’s okay. Maybe another time?”

     “No thanks,” Minho stood up and grabbed his tablet and phone before standing up. 

     He didn’t say another word and headed to Y/n’s office. Knocking on the door before walking in.

      Y/n looked up from her computer as he shut the door, offering a smile as he took a seat with a sigh. 

     “You alright?” Y/n asked him

     “Fine,” Minho answered 

     Y/n got up and leaned against her desk in front of him, “Not asking as your boss.”

     “We’re at work,” he reminded her

     “In my office,” Y/n added

     “Just office stuff,” he told her, grabbing her hand and running his thumb over her knuckles, “Got asked out is all.”

     “Someone finally made a move out there?”

     “So you know about the office gossip.”

     “I like knowing things,” Y/n shrugged, “Back to work. We can talk about it more later.”

     Minho rolled his eyes and went over the details for her meeting then walked down to the room with her. Sitting and taking notes. Just doing his job while the meeting ran on. Barely recognizing the meeting had ended until the sound of chairs brought his attention back.

      He locked his tablet and let out a small sigh. Quietly standing from his chair.

     “Email me the meeting notes, would you Minho?” Y/n asked as she picked up her things. 

     “Yes. I’ll send them over as soon as I can,” Minho assured her as they made their way out of the meeting room to their respective desks.

     Working for the next few hours on little things. No company deadlines to meet this month which made everything easier. 

      Minho was about to wrap up for the day when his phone vibrated on the desk

Y/n: Rain check tonight? Minho: something come up? Y/n: Issue with one of the branch managers 🙄 HR wants me to hope on a Zoom meeting to talk about it Minho: that bad the CEO needs to hop on the call? Y/n: We’re still a pretty small company Min. It’s happened before  Minho: How about I cook tonight? Just come over once your meeting is over. Y/n: you cooked last time 😞 Minho: and you loved it so I'll cook again. it’s no big deal.  Y/n: are you sure? Minho: I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t Y/n: Okay. thank you min Minho: no problem. I’ll see you after your meeting 

     Minho packed up his stuff and checked on Y/n before leaving for the day. Making his way to the store to pick up a few ingredients before heading home. 

     Taking care of the groceries before hopping in the shower to wash the day off. Putting on a plain t-shirt and some sweats then walking into the kitchen. Putting on a playlist while he cooked. Getting a bit of a head start before Y/n knocked on his door. 

     Minho cleaned off his hands before answering the door. Finding Y/n behind the door, in more house clothes than her business suit she had on at work. 

     “How’d your meeting go?” He asked as she stepped inside.

     “Pain in my ass,” Y/n sighed 

     “That bad?” Minho asked as he closed the door

     “Lot of denying of what he was doing over at the branch and saying he’ll sue,” Y/n sighed as she slipped her shoes off

      “I’m sorry,” Minho sympathized and wrapped her up in his arms. 

     “Just my job,” Y/n sighed, wrapping her arms around him

     “Want some wine while I finish cooking?” he asked

     “Yes please.” 

     Minho led her into the kitchen and poured them both a glass of wine before he went back to cooking. Steering the conversation away from work for the rest of the night ending up on the couch together watching a movie. His arm wrapped around her as she leaned into him. 

     “Thank you for cooking again tonight,” Y/n told him. 

     “Any time,” Minho told her

     Y/n looked up at him and smiled. Minho smiled back and laid his forehead on hers. “Wanna stay the night?” he asked 

     “Want me to stay the night?”

     “Not admitting that.”

     “I’d love to stay the night,” Y/n laughed

     Minho smiled and pulled her closer to him. Y/n smiled and cupped his face in her hands.

     “Can I kiss you?” Minho asked after a moment of silence between them 

     “Thought I told you you didn’t need to ask,” Y/n said

     Minho leaned in, capturing her lips between his. Their lips moved in sync as his hand dropped from her shoulder to her waist. Pulling her just slightly closer to him. 

     Y/n swung her leg over his lap and pulled herself on top of him and he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to him. 

     Y/n pressed her lips back onto his as he kept a grip on her hips. Hands slipping down to her ass and grinding her against him. Y/n moaned into his mouth as her hands slipped into his hair, lightly tugging on the roots. 

     Minho ran his tongue over her bottom lip before pushing his tongue into her mouth. Y/n pushed her tongue against his, the two muscles dancing together between them before Y/n pulled away to catch her breath.

     Minho attached his lips to her neck, moving one hand from her ass to hold the back of her head. Tilting her head back a bit, allowing himself more room to work with. 

     “All mine,” Minho mumbled against her skin on instinct

     Y/n felt her body heat up as the words passed through her ears. There’d only been a few other times she and Minho had slept together but she’d never heard any possessiveness out of him— even though he warned her he was the possessive type. But the two little words did something to her. 

     “‘m yours,” Y/n moaned. 

     Y/n watched him pull back from her neck and looked up at her. “Yeah? My pretty kitten?” he smiled, watching her face flush ever so slightly 

     “Mhmm,” Y/n answered 

     “Be my girlfriend?” he asked, gently kissing the side of her neck 

     “Yes,” Y/n answered before he pulled her back down to his lips. His tongue found its place in her mouth again. 

     Y/n moaned into his mouth as his hands crept up her shirt. His warm hands gave her goosebumps. Y/n tipped his head back a bit, deepening the kiss. Minho smiled and dipped his fingers under the band of her bra before he pulled back from her lips to attach them to her neck again. 

     Y/n let out a soft moan as he gently sucked on the skin below her ear. Kissing the mask before moving down and adding another. 

     “Min,” Y/n whined as she pulled up the back of his shirt. 

     “Yeah, kitten?” he asked

     “Bed,” Y/n briefly said

     “Need daddy to pound you into his bed again?” 

     “Mhmm.”

     “Words, kitten.”

     “Yes. Please, Daddy.”

     “Good girl.”

     Minho grabbed her thighs and stood up with her. Y/n quickly wrapped herself around him as he smiled. Walking her to his room down the hall before pinning her down onto the bed. Grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head, tossing the material to the side. 

     Y/n smiled at him as he leaned back down and kissed her again. Moving one hand up her shirt again and cupping one of her breasts. Gently massaging the mound as his lips moved in sync with hers. 

     “Min,” Y/n whined against his lips 

     “Making you feel good, kitten?”

     “Mhmm.”

     Minho pulled away from her lips and sat up, “How about you strip for me? Let daddy see you, mhm?”

     Y/n eagerly stripped off her clothing, tossing it elsewhere in the room as her boyfriend watched her, palming his bulge through his gym shorts. Smiling as she laid back flat on the bed. 

     “So obedient,” Minho chuckled as used his free hand to gently rub over her clit as he got down on his stomach. Getting face to face with her cunt. 

     Y/n watched as his hands trailed up her body as he leaned in and tentatively licked her folds. Y/n let out a small moan as she grabbed his hands, guiding them up to her breasts. Feeling his lips wrap around her clit. 

     His hands gripped her breasts as he sucked on the bundle of nerves. Rubbing his thumbs over her nipples as he let his tongue roam over her clit and hole. Teasing her by dipping the tip in before pulling away and sitting up. 

     Y/n watched him sit up a bit before bringing a hand back down to her clit. Two fingers ran between her folds before he leaned down and let a glob of spit fall from his lips and onto her clit. Y/n jerked at the contact before he spread it over her. Dipping one finger into her. 

     Y/n arched her back slightly as he curled his finger up into her. Spreading her legs open more with his other hand. 

     “More, please.” Y/n begged 

     “Greedy kitty needs another finger in her?” Minho laughed yet complied. Pushing a second finger inside her. Feeling her clench around his fingers as he slowly worked her open. Leaning over her body before dipping his head down. Taking one of her nipples into his mouth. 

     Y/n wrapped her arms around his head and lightly tugged on his hair. “Fuck,” Y/n whined as his fingers barely grazed the soft spot inside her.

     Minho chuckled as he lightly bit her nipple before pulling away from her and releasing the bud. He lightly blew on the skin and watched it pebble. Minho smiled and gave the same treatment to the other nipple as his palm pressed against her clit, rubbing the bud ever so slightly. 

     Every single whine was music to Minho’s ears. Picking up his pace as her walls grasped his fingers before he felt her cum coat his fingers. “Good girl,” Minho praised her as she rode out her orgasm. 

     He kissed up her chest to her neck and pulled his fingers out of her. Hovering his fingers over her mouth. Y/n opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around his fingers. Cleaning them off before he pulled them out of her mouth with a smile. 

     He leaned over and grabbed a condom from his bedside table before sitting up on his knees. Minho pulled his shorts and boxers down. Y/n watched him spring up from the fabric, red tip leaking with precum. 

     Minho tore open the foil and grabbed the rubber. Tossing the packaging to the side and rolling the rubber down his length. Stroking himself as she held her legs open for him. Chuckling a bit as he lined the tip up at her whole 

     “Imagine if the whole office knew their boss was such a whore for her secretary,” he teased, pushing himself into her fully 

     Y/n moaned as her walls hugged his cock. He grabbed hold of the back of her knees and pushed her legs down more. 

     “Fuck,” Y/n groaned 

     Minho pulled back and started thrusting into her. Starting at a slower pace and gradually picking up. “Been thinking about this all day. Walking into the office in that damned skirt.”

     “Should’ve fucked me— oh fuck— on my desk.” Y/n moaned 

     “Yeah? Want me to bend you over your desk? Fill you up in the morning with my cum instead of bringing you coffee?”

     “Yes!” 

     Minho smiled as he moved one hand down and rolled his thumb over her sensitive clit again. Moans leaving her lips that he was sure his neighbors would complain about later but he didn’t care all too much at the moment. 

     His own moans left him as she squeezed him. Her cunt fluttered around him as he pulled a second orgasm from her. Her body was shaking under him as he picked up speed. Working himself towards his own orgasm. 

     His high hit him just as she came down from hers. Burying himself inside her as his cum filled up the rubber. His hand grabbed onto the sheets under her as he rode out his high. Occasionally thrusting into her before he was finished. 

     “Is it too soon to say I love you?” Minho asked

     “I don't think so,” Y/n said

     Minho leaned down and kissed her for the umpteenth time that night. Though, much slower this time. Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he hooked her legs around his waist. “I love you,” Minho mumbled against her lips

     “I love you too,” Y/n mumbled back

     Minho pulled back and looked down at her, “Let me get you cleaned up.”

     “Mhmm was hoping for round two,” Y/n said

     “We’ve got all night. Don't worry about that,” Minho smiled 

     “How about all weekend?” Y/n asked

     “Like that even better.”

     Y/n smiled before he pulled out of her. Getting up to grab a towel, and coming back to clean her up. 

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[mostlysignssomeportents]

An adversarial iMessage client for Android

Adversarial interoperability is one of the most reliable ways to protect tech users from predatory corporations: that's when a technologist reverse-engineers an existing product to reconfigure or mod it (interoperability) in ways its users like, but which its manufacturer objects to (adversarial):

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

"Adversarial interop" is a mouthful, so at EFF, we coined the term "competitive compatibility," or comcom, which is a lot easier to say and to spell.

Scratch any tech success and you'll find a comcom story. After all, when a company turns its screws on its users, it's good business to offer an aftermarket mod that loosens them again. HP's $10,000/gallon inkjet ink is like a bat-signal for third-party ink companies. When Mercedes announces that it's going to sell you access to your car's accelerator pedal as a subscription service, that's like an engraved invitation to clever independent mechanics who'll charge you a single fee to permanently unlock that "feature":

https://www.techdirt.com/2023/12/05/carmakers-push-forward-with-plans-to-make-basic-features-subscription-services-despite-widespread-backlash/

Comcom saved giant tech companies like Apple. Microsoft tried to kill the Mac by rolling out a truly cursèd version of MS Office for MacOS. Mac users (5% of the market) who tried to send Word, Excel or Powerpoint files to Windows users (95% of the market) were stymied: their files wouldn't open, or they'd go corrupt. Tech managers like me started throwing the graphic designer's Mac and replacing it with a Windows box with a big graphics card and Windows versions of Adobe's tools.

Comcom saved Apple's bacon. Apple reverse-engineered MS's flagship software suite and made a comcom version, iWork, whose Pages, Numbers and Keynote could flawlessly read and write MS's Word, Excel and Powerpoint files:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/06/adversarial-interoperability-reviving-elegant-weapon-more-civilized-age-slay

It's tempting to think of iWork as benefiting Apple users, and certainly the people who installed and used it benefited from it. But Windows users also benefited from iWork. The existence of iWork meant that Windows users could seamlessly collaborate on and share files with their Mac colleagues. IWork didn't just add a new feature to the Mac ("read and write files that originated with Windows users") – it also added a feature to Windows: "collaborate with Mac users."

Every pirate wants to be an admiral. Though comcom rescued Apple from a monopolist's sneaky attempt to drive it out of business, Apple – now a three trillion dollar company – has repeatedly attacked comcom when it was applied to Apple's products. When Apple did comcom, that was progress. When someone does comcom to Apple, that's piracy.

Apple has many tools at its disposal that Microsoft lacked in the early 2000s. Radical new interpretations of existing copyright, contract, patent and trademark law allows Apple – and other tech giants – to threaten rivals who engage in comcom with both criminal and civil penalties. That's right, you can go to prison for comcom these days. No wonder Jay Freeman calls this "felony contempt of business model":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/09/lead-me-not-into-temptation/#chamberlain

Take iMessage, Apple's end-to-end encrypted (E2EE) instant messaging tool. Apple customers can use iMessage to send each other private messages that can't be read or altered by third parties – not cops, not crooks, not even Apple. That's important, because when private messaging systems get hacked, bad things happen:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2014_celebrity_nude_photo_leak

But Apple has steadfastly refused to offer an iMessage app for non-Apple systems. If you're an Apple customer holding a sensitive discussion with an Android user, Apple refuses to offer you a tool to maintain your privacy. Those messages are sent "in the clear," over the 38-year-old SMS protocol, which is trivial to spy on and disrupt.

Apple sacrifices its users' security and integrity in the hopes that they will put pressure on their friends to move into Apple's walled garden. As CEO Tim Cook told a reporter: if you want to have secure communications with your mother, buy her an iPhone:

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/tim-cook-says-buy-mom-210347694.html

Last September, a 16-year old high school student calling himself JJTech published a technical teardown of iMessage, showing how any device could send and receive encrypted messages with iMessage users, even without an Apple ID:

https://jjtech.dev/reverse-engineering/imessage-explained/

JJTech even published code to do this, in an open source library called Pypush:

https://github.com/JJTech0130/pypush

In the weeks since, Beeper has been working to productize JJTech's code, and this week, they announced Beeper Mini, an Android-based iMessage client that is end-to-end encrypted:

https://beeper.notion.site/How-Beeper-Mini-Works-966cb11019f8444f90baa314d2f43a54

Beeper is known for a multiprotocol chat client built on Matrix, allowing you to manage several kinds of chat from a single app. These multiprotocol chats have been around forever. Indeed, iMessage started out as one – when it was called "iChat," it supported Google Talk and Jabber, another multiprotocol tool. Other tools like Pidgin have kept the flame alive for decades, and have millions of devoted users:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/07/tower-babel-how-public-interest-internet-trying-save-messaging-and-banish-big

But iMessage support has remained elusive. Last month, Nothing launched Sunchoice, a disastrous attempt to bring iMessage to Android, which used Macs in a data-center to intercept and forward messages to Android users, breaking E2EE and introducing massive surveillance risks:

https://www.theverge.com/2023/11/21/23970740/sunbird-imessage-app-shut-down-privacy-nothing-chats-phone-2

Beeper Mini does not have these defects. The system encrypts and decrypts messages on the Android device itself, and directly communicates with Apple's servers. It gathers some telemetry for debugging, and this can be turned off in preferences. It sends a single SMS to Apple's servers during setup, which changes your device's bubble from green to blue, so that Apple users now correctly see your device as a secure endpoint for iMessage communications.

Beeper Mini is now available in Google Play:

https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.beeper.ima&hl=en_US

Now, this is a high-stakes business. Apple has a long history of threatening companies like Beeper over conduct like this. And Google has a long history deferring to those threats – as it did with OG App, a superior third-party Instagram app that it summarily yanked after Meta complained:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/05/battery-vampire/#drained

But while iMessage for Android is good for Android users, it's also very good for Apple customers, who can now get the privacy and security guarantees of iMessage for all their contacts, not just the ones who bought the same kind of phone as they did. The stakes for communications breaches have never been higher, and antitrust scrutiny on Big Tech companies has never been so intense.

Apple recently announced that it would add RCS support to iOS devices (RCS is a secure successor to SMS):

https://9to5mac.com/2023/11/16/apple-rcs-coming-to-iphone/

Early word from developers suggests that this support will have all kinds of boobytraps. That's par for the course with Apple, who love to announce splashy reversals of their worst policies – like their opposition to right to repair – while finding sneaky ways to go on abusing its customers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/22/vin-locking/#thought-differently

The ball is in Apple's court, and, to a lesser extent, in Google's. As part of the mobile duopoly, Google has joined with Apple in facilitating the removal of comcom tools from its app store. But Google has also spent millions on an ad campaign shaming Apple for exposing its users to privacy risks when talking to Android users:

https://www.theverge.com/2023/9/21/23883609/google-rcs-message-apple-iphone-ipager-ad

While we all wait for the other shoe to drop, Android users can get set up on Beeper Mini, and technologists can kick the tires on its code libraries and privacy guarantees.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/07/blue-bubbles-for-all/#never-underestimate-the-determination-of-a-kid-who-is-time-rich-and-cash-poor

[mymindisneverhere]

FAVORS (2)

Part Two

warnings: 18+, MDNI!, sub!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, explicit language, lots of dialogue, slight smut, slow burn (forgive me if I missed any)

Masterlist

“Fuck.” He grunted through gritted teeth, looking down at her as she went to work on him. 

She stuck her tongue out and ran it up the bottom of his shaft moaning from the sweet taste of him, never tearing her gaze from his. She wrapped her red stained lips around the head of his dick slightly sucking, drinking the pre-cum that oozed from it. 

“You know how long I’ve been wanting to do this to you?” She spoke softly, kissing down the length of his dick.  

He lifted his head to get a better view of her. He struggled a bit, giving that he was flat on his back, limbs stretched and bound to the bed. He bit his bottom lip, trying his hardest not to completely fold under her spell. It was becoming harder and harder by the second as she continued building his anticipation. 

She ran her tongue back up to the tip again before taking in every inch of him at once. He could feel her throat become narrow, causing the muscles in his abdomen to tighten. After a few seconds, she raised her head and brought her eyes back to him.  

“Since the first day I met you.” She admitted, spitting the saliva that had built from her throat onto the tip of his dick.

“Oh shit.” He watched in awe as she bit her lip, admiring her mess. She was so damn pretty and so damn nasty. 

“If you’re good, I’ll let you feel how wet this pussy is all because of you…” 

*BEEP BEEP BEEP* 

Terry’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his alarm going off. He rested a heavy hand on top of the loud clock silencing it. Waking up 6:00 sharp every morning on the weekdays was his new norm. He sat up swinging his legs over the side of the bed and made his way to the bathroom in his small apartment. 

His morning routine was very simple: shower, wash his face, brush his teeth, oatmeal for breakfast and a protein shake for the road. He dressed in his usual uniform, gray t-shirt and khaki pants, sure that he was in dress code for work. 

‘1 Text Message from Summer’ 

Summer: Goodmorning, have a good day at work. Stop by afterwards, got something for you. 

Terry: Goodmorning, be there as soon as I clock out. 

With that, he hopped in his truck and headed off to another long eight hour shift on the job. 

The break room was filled with all of the morning shift workers waiting around until it was time to punch the clock and get to work. Most of them were preparing their usual morning coffees, others rushing to finish the last of their breakfast.

Terry greeted everyone as he headed over to the television, grabbing the remote to flip through the channels. 

“Goodmorning gentlemen.” Khloé greeted the break room full of men, causing everyone to fall silent. 

“Morning Ms. MacArthur!” The men greeted back in unison.

Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on him standing in front of the television watching the morning news. 

“Mr. Richmond!” She called out. 

He turned his head to look in her direction, his body still facing the tv. 

“Yes ma’am?” 

“If you have a minute, I’d like to speak with you in my office.” 

This earned Terry a few looks, some riddled with skepticism others just being plain immature. He placed the remote back into its designated spot and turned to follow behind her. 

They made their way down the long hall toward her office. He looked down at her legs, each step directly in front of the other as her heels clicked in a rhythm. The tall heels elongated her smooth legs, free of any marks or blemishes. He was trying his hardest to remain a gentleman but the way her ass moved with each step reminded him that he was still a man at the end of the day. 

She opened the door to her office and held out her hand signaling for him to enter. Her back was pressed against the tall door as he stepped into the office looking around the room. 

“Have a seat.” Khloé pointed to the large chair. 

Terry obliged. 

“Mr. Richmond, I’ve learned a lot about you in the last twenty-four hours.” She closed the office door and walked over to the desk, standing directly in front of him. “You’re one hell of a guy.” 

Terry sat quietly, unaware of what she was talking about. 

“I mean look at you, you scream ‘good guy who takes down bad guys’.” 

“I’m not understanding.” Terry stated, looking up at her. 

“I’m talking about Shelby Springs-“ She began, pushing herself back onto the desk. Her legs crossed at the ankle, hanging as she looked down at him. “-taking down those cops all by yourself. I’m impressed.” 

She went on to tell him what she had gathered from the news article but he couldn’t focus on her words. The way her mouth moved as she spoke, that bright red lipstick she wore brought back memories in an instant. Images begin to flash in his mind as he slowly remembers… 

The dream. 

The dream he had last night of those same lips wrapped around his dick made him shift in the chair, sitting up straight. He was hoping to hide the excitement he was beginning to feel the longer he stared at her mouth. 

He stared for so long they were beginning to move in slow motion. Her teeth were a natural white color, perfectly aligned and her choice of lip stain brought out her deep cupid's bow. The way her lips pursed every time she said “Richmond” was making him harder by the second. 

“Mr. Richmond?” She repeated, bringing him back into reality. 

“Ma’am?”

“Is there something in my teeth?” She asked, tilting her head. 

“No ma’am, I’m sorry.” 

“That’s okay, I’m just so used to your gorgeous eyes and that strong eye contact. I thought something may be wrong with my mouth.” She giggled. 

‘It’s not around my dick.’

“Forgive me, but I kinda zoned out. Could you repeat that last part?” 

“I said you’re a brave man. It takes a lot of courage to do what you did all by yourself.” 

Terry looked down at his lap and back up at her. “I had some help but thank you.” 

“It must’ve been really hard for you though, with your cousin passing, you being shot and all.” 

“It was tough but I’m okay.” 

She continued staring at him admiring his humble attitude. He could’ve easily walked around with his chest poked and God-like complex but truly he was just an innocent man. She loved that though, the more innocent he appeared to be, the more damage she could do to him.

“I saw that they took all of your savings from you. Did you ever get it back?” She asked. 

“Only enough to post his bail but that’s it.” 

“What were you planning to do with the rest?” 

“Well I was hoping to head out of town and start fresh.” He responded. “But I’m here. I’m alive and well, so as long as I still have the ability to work, I can build back up to that point eventually.” 

“I mean $26,000, that’s a large amount to try and save up at a job like this, no?” Khloé knew what she was doing, trying to sniff out some desperation so she could have the upper hand when she put her offer on the table. 

“It is but it’s not impossible.” 

‘Determined.’ She thought to herself. 

She worried that his “can do” attitude would cause him to turn down her proposal. I mean overall he wasn’t just some broke down victim of racism, he was just a man playing the cards life had dealt him, with no complaints. 

“What would you say if I told you I could give you the rest? It was $26,000 right?” She smiled, trying to appear harmless.

Terry stared up at her in confusion. He had just met her only a day ago and now she’s offering him a large amount of money. He knew nothing in life was free and he could smell the proposition from a mile away. However, he was not interested. 

“Why would you do that?” He chuckled slightly. 

“I want to help you.” She lied. “Some of the men in my family were in the military as well. I couldn’t imagine what life would be like for them if all of their hard work went down the drain at the hands of a couple of racist pigs.” 

They sat in silence staring at each other, both parties trying their hardest to read the other. She couldn’t possibly think he was gullible enough to just accept money from a stranger without returning the favor. But he couldn’t be silly enough to turn down an offer like this.

“No thank you Ms. MacArthur.” Terry stood up from the chair preparing to leave the office. 

“I’m not done speaking with you Mr. Richmond-“ She spoke, stopping him in his tracks, her soft tone never wavering. “and I don’t take no for an answer.” 

Terry let out a deep sigh before turning to face her yet again. 

“I’m sure you could use the money right now. A better place to stay, a nicer car, overall financial security. That sounds good doesn’t it?” She was milking it as best she could.

Terry had to admit to himself, all of it sounded great. To go from living comfortably to $0 was a struggle he fought through daily. He could go to his old friend Mr. Liu for money here and there but he wanted to have his own so that he wouldn’t be a constant bother to others. 

“What could you possibly want in return?” Terry asked cutting straight to chase. 

“You.” 

The look on her face letting him know she was dead serious. 

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” 

Terry frowned in pure confusion, there was no hiding it this time. 

“And what do you want me to do?” 

‘To fuck me.’ 

The corner of Khloés lip turned up into a slight smirk before answering.

“My family’s having their annual banquet and every year I get flack for not having a date. I’m the youngest daughter and all of my siblings are either married with children or engaged.” She admitted. “I need a date for the banquet and for other events so I was just wondering if you could be my “boyfriend” until I don’t need you anymore?” 

Terry sat silently, replaying what he had just heard in his mind a few times. He was having a hard time believing that this beautiful woman needed to pay a man to be her boyfriend. Men would worship the ground she walked on.

“A woman like you needs to pay a man to be with her?” Terry questioned. “There has to be a catch to all of this.” 

“Sadly, it’s my reality.” She admitted. “There is no catch. A very independent and ambitious woman like myself who’s financially well off thanks to her family, has a hard time with men who want to feel needed… and in control.” 

“And if I decline?” 

“Well I really don’t like being told no, so think long and hard about this.” Khloé said before hopping off of her desk. “You can get back to me on it tomorrow with any boundaries you’d like to set in place and I’ll see if I can accommodate you.” 

She smiled at him, unmoved by his obvious discomfort. Terry stared at her for just a few moments before awkwardly turning and exiting the office. 

“Have a good day at work!”

“It’s open!” Summer yelled from the kitchen of her tiny home. 

Terry entered the home, pulling the screen door and walking into the living room. Summer and Terry had managed to maintain their friendship after all the shit they had been through in Shelby Springs together. 

“You got a package today from the city, it’s on the table.” 

Terry grabbed the large folder from the table, opening it as he looked over at Summer. 

“What you cooking in here?” He asked, leaning against the wooden counter. 

“Just some soup, baby has a cold so I’m tryin’ my hardest to nurse her back to health.” Summer responded, stirring the soup slowly. “Seems like the more time she spends at that school the sicker she gets.” 

Summer had to enroll her daughter Bailey into the nearest public elementary school. The only problem was their lack of care and consideration for the children’s education and well being. This was the third time Bailey had been sick since the school year began. 

She didn’t want to send her to school to avoid the possibility of spreading the cold to other kids. But she also didn’t want Child Protective Services to revoke her full custody of her daughter because she misses so much school. 

“I really want her in the private school where my old coworkers' kids go. I just want her to get a good education and not have to be subject to the same conditions I had, you know?” Summer stated, looking over at Terry. 

“I understand.” 

“But the cost of tuition is just so much, I mean I get that it’s one of the only private schools around here but $10,000 for a 3rd grader is nuts, and that’s if I enroll her for just two years.” She said, shaking her head. “I just need her in a good school, just until I get the green light from CPS that we’re good to pack up and go.” 

Terry frowned as he saw the disappointment and sadness in Summers' face. He knew she wanted to be the best mother she could be and to prove not only to herself but to everyone else that she could successfully raise Bailey to be a phenomenal young woman. 

“That is a bit expensive but don’t lose hope, you never know what could happen in the future.” He spoke confidently, hoping to ease her worry she had for Bailey’s future but it wasn’t working. 

The more Summer spoke about this new school and her needing to pick up an extra job, the more Terry was revisiting Khloés offer in his mind. The thought of him posing as a rich girl's boyfriend for money was insane to him. But the look on Summers face pained him. The offer wasn’t sounding as crazy the more he imagined the peace she’d get knowing Bailey was in a good school.

“What’s in the folder?”

“Just some bullshit about Shelby Springs.” He responded, throwing the papers in the trash. 

“Work going okay?” 

Terry debated on telling her about his encounter with Khloé but decided against it. 

“Same ol same ol.” 

“I know it’s not what you were looking forward to doing but at least you got some good benefits. You being an ex-marine really helps in jobs like that.” 

“Yeah but I just wish Mike was here with me. I just wish my plan went through the way I wanted it to but-“ He shrugged his shoulders in defeat. “-life is gone do what it wants… just gotta roll with it.” 

Summer nodded in agreement. 

“Mommy?” Bailey yelled from the back room. 

“Sorry, duty calls.” Summer said, running to her daughter's bedroom. 

“That’s okay, you take care of her. I’m gonna head out.” 

“Thank you for stopping by, I’ll be sure to bring you some lunch sometime this week!” Summer yelled from her daughter's room. 

“I’ll be looking forward to it!”

With that, Terry left Summers home and headed to his second sanctuary, the 24 hour gym. 

Terry grunted heavily as he lifted the barbell above his chest. He was doing his usual upper body routine. He’d inhale and exhale in the same rhythm as his movements. Inhale, lower, exhale, lift. Making his last set count he trained to failure and then placed the bar back onto its rack. 

He sat up on the bench resting in between the next workout, steadying his breathing. 

‘You know how long I’ve been wanting to do this to you?’

His head shot up as he looked in the mirror. The voice was so close, he thought someone was standing right next to him. The voice… her voice… it was so soft at the same time bold and insistent. 

He shook it off and stood, preparing for a set of bicep curls. He lifted the 30 lb weights in each hand and began counting to himself. 

1…

2…

5…

6…

‘Mr. Richmond?’ 

10…

11… 

‘…I’ll let you feel how wet this pussy is…’

“12!” He said in a loud grunt. He slammed the dumbbells down to the ground and placed his hands on his hips. He shook his head as he tried his hardest to shake the sound of her voice. There was no way this woman was having a hold on him and he barely knew her. 

It didn’t help that he hadn’t been with a woman in a long time. He had been so focused on getting his personal life on track, it left him no room for dating. Plus the women who were interested in him were so easy and a man like Terry loved a woman who challenged him.

“You done with those?” Another man in the gym asked Terry, bringing him back to reality for a split second. 

“Yeah man, go ahead.” He responded. 

It had only been a few hours and she was invading his mind. The more he tried focusing on his workout the more he’d hear her voice and see those lips. He knew the only way to get her off his mind was to do something he hadn’t done in a while. 

“I gotta have her.” He whispered to himself. 

Next work day… 

“Ms. MacArthur, there’s an employee in your office. He didn’t say why he needed to speak to you but he didn’t look too happy.” Olivia notified her. 

Khloé rolled her eyes, hoping it wasn’t another disgruntled worker complaining about their job. “Thank you Liv.” 

She walked to her office and opened the door, noticing the back of his head first. He sat there patiently waiting for her, never turning to acknowledge her presence. 

“Mr. Richmond, I’m so happy to see you.” Khloé smiled, placing her purse on the desk. 

He eyed her, taking in her entire figure this time. She was truly an attractive woman. Her hair was pressed straight and tucked behind her ears. She wore a black and white two piece skirt set and white stilettos matching the buttons on her top. Her skin was a rich deep caramel tone that always popped when she wore her signature red lip. 

Her attire was simple yet still screamed luxury. There wasn’t anything out of place on her, everything went together so perfectly. Which is why Terry was dying to figure out why a woman like her would be offering to pay a man like him to be with her. 

“My eyes are up here Mr. Richmond.” She smirked.

He locked his eyes onto hers and remembered why he was there. “I accept.” 

Khloés lips spread into a large smile.

“Of course you d-“

“But I have a few conditions.” Terry interrupted. “I only want $10,000 for myself, the rest needs to go to my family.” 

“Your family?” 

“Yes, they need some assistance and I’d prefer to give the majority of the money to them. It’ll ease their worries and mine.”

Khloés head jerked back in disbelief. Here he was again proving himself to be a humble man. Only wanting less than half of what she was offering for himself and the rest for his family. She almost felt bad for not telling him the whole truth about this “deal”… almost. 

“Well if that’s all you wan-“ 

“Allow me to finish.” Terry cut her off, again.

His strong, authoritative voice made her pussy tingle. She squirmed in her seat and cleared her throat as she returned her attention to him. This was the first time she had actually been turned on by a hint of dominance from the opposite sex. Maybe because it wasn’t being forced. It just came natural to him. 

“I would like the check for $16,000 made out to this name and sent to this address.” Terry stated, sliding a small piece of notebook paper across the desk. 

‘Summer McBride, 555 Conner St’ 

Khloé took it and placed it into her purse for safe keep. 

“If this is going to put me in jeopardy of losing my job then tell me now because I really don’t like surprises.”

“It won’t, I promise.” 

“This needs to stay between us. I can be whoever you need me to be outside of work but when I'm here I'm just an employee, nothing more.” He stated firmly. 

They eyed each other for a few moments, almost as if they were in a standoff. Dominant vs Dominant, Alpha vs Alpha. But there could only be one and it was going to be Khloé. She took a deep breath before speaking, choosing her tone and words wisely. 

“I’m not sure if you’re aware Mr. Richmond, but I'm the one calling the shots.” She said, leaning onto her desk. 

“You asked me for my boundaries and I'm giving them to you. What's the problem?” He asked leaning forward as well, resting his arms on his knees.

She smiled, pausing to take note of this. He wasn’t going to be an easy fix but she enjoyed a “project”. She decided to let him have this round. She would get her turn eventually. 

“No problem.” She continued smiling. “Now, my rules. Rule number one, be on time! I prefer to meet at my home a few hours before we head out so that we’re clear on our attire for each event. Rule number two, no ex-girlfriends or situationships. If you have someone, call it off, I-“ 

“If I had someone, do you think I’d be sitting in your office right now?” He bluntly asked, staring blankly at her. 

He was really testing her patience, not on purpose though. However she was still taking note of it all, planning to make great use of it in the future. 

“I don’t want any women popping up here or anywhere else asking for or about you. I don’t like for anyone to have one-up on me.” She continued. “Rule number three, speak when spoken to.” 

This earned her an unpleasant look from him. 

“There will be many people at the banquet, if they don’t ask you anything then you don’t say anything. Rule number four, don’t embarrass me, ever! I don’t do well with humiliation. Lastly, rule number five, you’re mine! Which means you need to carry yourself that way. Be mindful of who you interact with and how, I’m a very observant woman.” 

Terry sat unmoved. 

“Are we clear?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Terry smirked, scoffing at her bossy attitude. He wasn’t truly buying it though, he just thought it was cute. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“I love the way you say yes ma’am, make it a habit.” 

He clenched his jaw as his dick jumped. The combination of flashbacks from the dream he had of her and the interaction he was having with her in real time was making it harder for him to remain stoic. 

“I will pay the $10,000 to you in small amounts at a time.” She started, “As long as you follow my rules, you get the payments on time. The moment you disobey me or go against our agreement, you deal with the consequences.” She was speaking to this grown ass man as if he were a child or her servant, which technically he kind of was. 

Terry still sat, this time admiring her bossiness. The way she was throwing out orders, the way she wasn’t beating around the bush or trying to cover up her controlling personality had him feening for her. And those damn lips… 

“Mr. Richmond?” She called out, snapping him out of his daze. 

“So when’s the banquet?” He asked, trying to hide the fact that he had zoned out once again. 

“Next Friday. I’ll send you my address so you can get fitted for your tux. We have a very strict dress code.” Khloé turned to her computer, before looking at him once more. “You’re dismissed.” 

Terry's lips spread into a smile as he stood up from the chair and exited the office. This was going to be a tough one but nothing he couldn’t handle… so he thought.

to be continued… 

[daydreamingqueen1]

Sweets thief

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Warnings/Content: none. pure fluff, a wee bit of bullying to spence (totally harmless and friendly though), crushes, unhealthy amount of candy ingestion lol, no y/n, gn!reader too

Summary: You've been stealing sweets from your resident genius.

Word count: 1.2k

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆

It wasn't unusual for the BAU members to carry snacks with them.

The job was hard, stressful and, most importantly, it had unpredictable hours. So finding time to eat a proper meal wasn't always a viable option.

Nevertheless, eating is a basic human need and even if it's not completely healthy, the agents often found themselves battling their hunger with quick snacks.

As a relatively new member of the BAU, buying said vital snacks wasn't yet ingrained in your mind, resulting in you continually forgetting to buy something to munch on during cases.

Stealing was always an option though.

After several months with your coworkers, you are proud to say that you have managed to eat at the expense of all of their pockets, for experts in human behavior, they don't hide their treats so well.

However, after several months, you have come to know their go-to snacks and, subsequently, you have become picky.

Morgan eats some kind of high-protein bars with an awfully bright neon wrapper.

Emily loves those salt and vinegar chips every station has on their vending machines.

JJ, ever the healthy mom of the group, always has a few packages of oatmeal raisin cookies on hand.

Rossi carries eucalyptus and mint gummies like the old man he is.

And Hotch buys the most bland granola bars known to mankind.

With all of that said, the conclusion was obvious.

Spencer has the best snacks.

It is not only that he always has sweets but that he's the only one that manages for variety instead of a fixed thing. A bit ironic considering he is the most prone to sticking to a rigid routine. Well, you aren't complaining though, especially not this month.

You realized quickly that Halloween was a big thing for the resident genius, seeming to make the grown man regress to the mentality of an overly eager seven-year-old. It's lucky for you because that means that he chooses to try a new candy every single day of October.

It also means that you had begun stealing exclusively from him and, being surrounded by profilers, it wasn't long until you were discovered as the culprit.

A shadow had eclipsed your desk suddenly, making you look up to a squinting Dr. Reid. “Did you take my last Peanut Butter Cup?”

You shook your head, “No...”

Derek snorted on the desk nearby, “You've still got chocolate on your face, kid,”

Cleaning your mouth with the back of your hand, you smiled up at Spencer sweetly.

His converse sounded hard against the floor as he stumped away.

Apparently, you weren't that discreet. He ended up catching you many more times after that.

"Hey!" Spencer swatted your hand when you grabbed yet another handful of his M&Ms.

You shrugged, feigning innocence, “Hey to you too Reid, but we've been in the same room for a while.”

He huffed, inching the box slightly out of your reach.

Many more times.

Your hand was literally inside the familiar size bag of Starburst candy when Spencer came back from the bathroom.

“Oh come on!” he groaned, taking the bag out of your grasp, “Buy your own.”

You went back to the local police station office, giggling to yourself like a child with your hands full of candy.

At this point hunger had become a secondary motive to your stealing. The number one reason being how adorable Spencer's reactions were when he caught you.

In all honesty, you harbored a bit of a crush on the man. You didn't have the courage to tell him upfront, making your silly brain manifest your feelings like a preschooler pulling on the pigtails of their crush. Oh, but teasing him was so fun, and it got you free candy so it was even better.

Then, yesterday, there was an incident.

The team was on the jet, another kidnapped girl had been safely returned to her parents, fairly quickly this time too. Spirits were high at wrapping up a case with such a positive outcome, making most of the agents mingle and play games on the usually quiet ride home.

You were perched on one of the individual seats, scrolling away in your phone and absentmindedly eating some candy (you had bought your own for once).

You jolted a bit when a hand dived into your candy bag. When you looked up, you found a smirking Spencer standing right in front of you, looking fairly smug and popping a piece into his mouth. He thought he was finally getting back at you for eating all of his sweets.

His joy lasted for about three seconds before he realized his mistake.

See, to the untrained eye, he had just eaten a couple of innocent looking bear gummies. Except, these were not regular gummies, they were your favorite kind, the most sour kind.

Spencer's face scrunched up with disgust, the sour effect of the gummy doubled at taking him by surprise, the acidic taste completely taking over his taste buds.

You couldn't help it, you bent over your belly with laughter, inadvertently drawing attention to Spencer's predicament.

The whole team snickered as they watched him rush back and forth on the narrow hall of the jet until he got hold of a tissue to spit the offending candy.

“What the hell is that?” he turned around to confront you.

You gave him an apologetic smile, “Sour candy?”

More laughs filled the space and Spencer had sat down on the furthest chair from yours, pouting with his arms crossed over his chest.

Back to today, you feel actually kind of guilty about what happened. You have been munching on all of Spencer's treats for weeks and the one time he does it to you, the whole team ends up making fun of him. A bit of teasing was fine but you don't want the man to actually feel bad.

So when you see him stand up from his desk and walk into the kitchen, you quickly jump out of your chair and grab something from your bag, trailing right behind him through the bullpen.

He's making himself an exaggeratedly sweet cup of coffee when you corner him.

“Spencer,” you call, making him turn around. Your hands are inconspicuously behind your back, “Trick or treat?”

His eyebrows furrow suspiciously, “Neither if you're going to give me one of those monstrosities you like.”

You huff out a laugh, “No, no, I promise it's not that. Come on, trick or treat? ”

After measuring up how much he trusts your statement, he relents, “Treat.”

“Ta-dah!” you sing, revealing a single Hershey’s Kiss in your palm.

Spencer's eyes light up.

“I know it doesn't make up for everything I ate but it's an offer of peace.”

He gives you a small smile, “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

As his hand extends to grab the chocolate, your brain has an impulsive thought.

You lean forward and peck his lips.

It lasts barely a second but it's enough to make your heart beat wildly against your chest.

Spencer stares at you frozen in place, a crimson color spreading all over his face.

“A kiss for a kiss,” you mumble dumbly, like saying that makes it better somehow.

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid!’ You think to yourself, your feet are prepared to flee the scene when he unexpectedly grabs your wrist.

“I– I...” he stammers, his cheeks turning impossibly redder, “I wouldn't mind if you stole more of those.”

A shy smile spreads on your face. Perhaps you won't start buying your own snacks soon.

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆

it's a bit silly but I was feeling halloween-y and craving sour candy

leave me a prompt or idea you'd like me to write!

♡, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

hope ya liked it, byebye

My masterlist

[ao3-rex1223]

𝓣𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼

Pairing: Professor Leon x Fem Reader

Tags: Lactation kink, breeding kink, p in v, creampie, orgasms, Leon being dominant but also soft, Leon being a dad.

Summary: You and Leon have a six months old daughter. Winter break at the university is just starting and Leon discovers how much he likes your milk...

“More applesauce, sweetie?” You coo to your six month old daughter, Danielle. You carefully guide the little baby spoon to her mouth. She greedily opens wide for more delicious food. “Such a good eater!” you praise, nuzzling her little forehead. “Mommy is so proud of you, Dani.” You continue feeding her as you sit in the university cafeteria, glad that winter break is starting. 

“There’s my girls,” Leon purrs as he approaches. He drops a loving kiss to Dani’s head - she giggles and smiles - then kisses your lips, his mouth lingering for a moment. “Hey there, baby.”

“Hey,” you reply, your cheeks flushing as they always do when he kisses you. “How was class?”

He smirks. “Oh, you know, teaching students to think critically and use their head…it’s a tough job but someone has to do it.”

“Tell me you’re going easy on them, at least,” you reply while scooping another tiny spoonful of applesauce. Dani eagerly watches as it nears her hungry mouth. 

“I can’t. I swear, the average exam scores get lower and lower every semester.” He rubs the bridge of his nose. When you were his student, he seemed mean and unapproachable, but now you can tell he genuinely wants his students to learn, even if he is a little rough around the edges. Of course, when you were his student, you only aced his class because you let him fuck you over and over in his office. But one thing led to another and now you are the mother to his daughter.

“Aww,” you reply with a teasing expression. “No extra credit for your class this semester?” Your eyes burn with a sensual heat as you gaze at him. 

He smirks wickedly and kisses your neck. “Only for my favorite student,” he retorts with a gruff chuckle. You giggle as his warm breath tickles your skin, an adorable laugh that mirrors your little daughter. 

Your intimate moment is interrupted by a plucky, young female student clearing her throat. “Um, Professor Kennedy…Could I have a word-”

Leon cuts her off. “Ms. Jones, you may send me an email and I will answer it on my next working day, or you can visit me during office hours. What you may not do is intrude when I am out of my office while I am tending to my girlfriend and our daughter,” he reprimands gently but firmly. 

The young student blushes and nods, then quickly turns to run away. You smirk and gently smack Leon’s shoulder. “You didn’t need to be so harsh, Leon.”

Leon steals a kiss from you before he answers. “Yes, I did. I’m clearly spending time with my family. I will not be interrupted.” 

You give him one last disapproving glance before returning to feed your daughter. 

After lunch, you both head home to give your daughter a nap. You each press a featherlight kiss to her forehead, then quietly exit and close the door. Leon gives you a sultry look, lifting you into his arms and carrying you to the bedroom. He lays you on the bed and crawls over you, supporting himself with one arm and traversing your curves with the other. You reward his sensual ministrations with soft moans and whimpers, wordlessly begging for more. 

“My girl, always so needy for her professor’s cock,” Leon coos, still playfully referring to himself as merely your educator and you just his pupil, as he occasionally does during your more intimate moments. His hardening member begins pressing against your hip over your clothes, causing your cunt to stir. Creamy slick leaks into your panties, making the thin cotton fabric stick to your folds. His hand slides up underneath your shirt, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

As he inches under your bra, he massages your swollen breast and tweaks your nipple. When he feels a few drops of milk, he freezes, his cock hardening even further. “Baby,” he purrs, roughly pulling your top off and ridding you of your bra just as fast. He attacks your neck with a wet kiss, sucking and groaning. He works his lips down; his target: your leaking breasts. His lips pepper kisses up one of your plush mounds then finally take your nipple inside his mouth. He moans appreciatively, sucking and drinking your milk - now free flowing. His hand cups your breast, squeezing gently as if to keep the flow strong. “Mmm, you taste amazing baby girl. Why is this the first time I’ve drank from your perfect tits!?” He smirks wide and returns to his feast like a man starved. Determined to bring you to euphoria with him, he slips a hand under your panties and rubs your slick folds. 

Your soft moans fill the air like music serenading him while he devours you. The combination of his mouth sucking firmly on your tits and his fingers rubbing your cunt is nearly burning you up. “Ohhhh…Leon…”

With a growl, he pulls his mouth off your tit with a pop, licking his lips as he looks into your eyes. “Hands and knees, sweetheart,” he commands gruffly and, without waiting for you, grabs your hips and flips you over, then pulls your ass in the air. It all happens so fast, you’re nearly dizzy from the transition. The erotic sound of his belt buckle being undone and his zipper sliding down drives more slick to gush from your cunt. You clutch your pillow, eagerly awaiting the feel of your lover inside you. He shoves your skirt up and pulls your panties to one side. 

Finally, the heavenly stretch of your walls around his cock floods your senses, a cavalcade of pleasure surrounding your body. He wraps his hands around your plush hips, still holding onto some baby weight. “You’re so fucking perfect,” Leon purrs. “Think I might have to breed this pussy again. Give Danielle a little brother or sister. Whad’ya say, baby?”

Your answer is a guttural moan as he drives his cock deep into your soft pussy, grinding against your g-spot. Your milky tits rub on the blanket beneath you, your sensitive nipples sending sparks all over. 

Leon’s pace increases, thrusting into you harder and faster. He reaches around to stroke your clit, smearing your slippery essence all around your cunt. “Cum for me, my good little slut,” he commands. 

His dirty words and pressure on your clit are enough to send you over the edge. You rock your hips back hard, taking his cock deep as your walls tighten around him like a vice. You bury your face in your pillow and cry out, not wanting to be too loud and wake your daughter. Seconds later, a punched out groan leaves Leon’s throat as he cums inside you. He collapses on the bed next to you, pulling you securely in his arms while he softly strokes your hair. “God, I fucking love you so much, baby,” he coos. 

After lying together for a while, you hear Danielle’s cries through the baby monitor. Leon kisses your forehead. “You rest, sweetheart. I got it. Barely got to see my little princess at all, today.” He rises from the bed, dresses quickly, then pads down to the nursery to spend time with his precious daughter. Meanwhile, you drift off to sleep into a light nap. 

[itsnevercasual]

I Wanna Be Yours

pairing: boss!ceo!harry styles x reader

request: Omg, can I request a boss!harry fic where he’s mean to everyone except from her??

summary: harry is the notoriously mean owner of pleasing, and he might have a slight soft spot for the new girl in the marketing department.

warnings: cursing, not edited

--

you were extremely new to pleasing, a very famous brand known for their nail polishes and perfumes. ever since you started (about three months ago), you’d hear literal horror stories about the founder and ceo.

rachel, the girl who trained you, told you that he was just plain rude. it was safe to say you feared the day he came in. thankfully, he wasn’t around much. not at your location, anyway. you were at the los angeles location, but he preferred to stay at the new york one.

tuesday morning, you got ready like every day. put on your usual outfit (a skirt, white button-up, a blazer, and heels), along with some black fleece-lined tights and a headband to push your hair back. it was getting cold out, and you couldn’t get away with just a skirt much longer.

with your iced coffee in one hand, your macbook and a few files you’d taken home in the other, you walked quickly into the building.

“good morning, miss townes,” the concierge greeted you.

“morning, nancy!” you greeted back as you ran to the elevator and pressed the button.

“late?” nancy asked.

“almost! this stupid elevator—“ said elevator dinged, and you let out a sigh of relief. “speak of the devil. see you, nance!”

—

by the time you made it up to the marketing floor (the twentieth floor out of fifty), you were exactly on time.

you moved as quickly as your heels would allow, dropping your car keys, computer, and files onto the desk.

“right on time, y/n,” rachel teased as you sat down. the two of you had cubicles right next to each other.

“long line at the coffee shop.”

“lucky you weren’t any later,” she commented as you sat down and took a generous sip of the iced coffee that had almost made you late, “mr. styles is said to be coming in today.”

you nearly choked on your drink.

“you finished those edits, right?”

“.. uh.. yeah. yeah, finished them last night,” you lied with a nod.

“y/n! he’s ruthless— he will literally fire you! that’s the new launch, and it’s overdue!”

“i know! i know, but i’ve been so busy, and fucking josh keeps making me do his shit—“

“oh shit, shut up. he’s here.”

“what?” you squeaked, quickly cleaning up your desk and opening the new launch photos on both the desktop and your personal computer.

out of the corner of your eye, you watched as what had to be mr. styles strolled through with an assistant who was talking about what you assumed was his schedule.

“you’ll have a meeting with the investors at three, and we have some papers to sign—“

you tuned her out as you tried to speed up the editing— brightening colors and adjusting the text so it fit better.

and suddenly, the footsteps of mr. styles and his assistant stopped. directly in front of your desk.

“you,” a voice spoke, and oh my god, he was british, “i don’t know you. who are you?”

your eyes snapped up to meet his, “oh. uh.. i’m y/n.. y/n townes. i’m.. um.. i’m new.”

he mouthed your name as if thinking it over.

“you’re the one doing the edits for the new launch?” he asked.

“yes, sir.”

he nodded before continuing his stroll. because, of fucking course, his office had to be on the marketing floor.

you let out a breath, sinking into your chair. rachel grabbed your arm with a comforting smile, “it’s okay, babes. he could’ve been rude.”

“he’s gonna see i’m not done and fire me!”

“it’s fine, just don’t think about it.”

—

right as you were about to head out on a quick lunch break, mr. styles’ assistant popped up at your desk.

“ms. townes, mr. styles requested your presence in his office. you, as well, ms. evans,” she said, glancing at you and rachel.

“uh— me? for.. for what?” you questioned.

“you’ll find out. i have to find a.. josh richardson. go on.”

you and rachel shared uneasy looks as the two of you stood and made your way to mr. styles’ office.

“if i get fired, i’m jumping out of a window,” you muttered as rachel pulled the door open.

“ah, ms. evans. ms. townes…. where is mr. richardson?” mr. styles spoke.

“your assistant went to grab him,” rachel answered. “what are we needed for?”

“you’ll see… ah, mr. richardson. so kind of you to join us.”

even you could tell he did not mean that.

“what is this?” josh asked, looking to you and rachel.

“you three were all put in charge of the new launch. correct?”

you all chorused variations of yes.

“and yet… nothing is done. why is that?”

you glanced to your shoes. you knew rachel was done. the whole project was all three of you were to make 300 campaigns and promo photos for the new nail polish launch. you'd devided it to be 100 each, and you all picked however many billboard designs, posters, social media posts, and so-ons that you'd do for the project. however, josh had slowly but surely pushed all of his work onto you.. until you had to do 200, and you only had around 130 done.

“i expect an answer.”

“i.. i finished all my photos and campaigns,” rachel finally said.

“i'm nearly done with.. my things. i was just helping josh before i--“

“so.. what i’m hearing so far, and correct me if i’m wrong, is that mr. richardson hasn’t been doing his job?”

josh cleared his throat, and you could feel the daggers he was glaring at you burning into your skull, “yes, mr. styles.”

mr. styles nodded, and you understood the horror stories now. he wasn’t even trying and he was terrifying. “do you like your job, mr. richardson?”

“yes, mr—“

“so why aren’t you doing it?”

“i— i’ve been.. busy.”

“busy.. right. well, i’ll make you less busy. you’re fired. get out.”

“wh— what? you can’t fire me!”

“i believe i can. and i just did. so get. out.”

“i have worked at this company for eight years! i make one mistake, and—“

“i will not ask you again!” mr. styles shouted, standing up from his chair. you flinched. “because i am not asking you, i am telling you. you are fired, and you will leave this building. and don’t even think about puttin’ this place on your resume, i won’t say a single good word about your ass.”

josh scoffed and stormed out of the room, you and rachel followed.

you turned the corner, yelping when someone grabbed your wrist and yanked it.

“what the hell, y/n? you said you’d do my—“

“i didn’t say that. you just assumed i would. i am not just apart of the valentines launch, josh, and i have fifty other things to do, and i can’t drop that just because you’re lazy.”

“you better watch what you say to me—“

a voice spoke from behind. mr. styles’ assisant, “uh.. miss townes? mr. styles requests he speak with you.. privately.”

you yanked your arm back, rubbing your wrist, “yes. of— of course. sorry.”

you walked back towards his office with your head down, glancing up at him once you entered the room.

you were surprised to see a... calm look on his face.

"miss townes, correct?" he asked.

"ye-.. uh.. yes, sir."

he smiled, which was very odd from what you'd seen of him so far, "you can relax, darling. you aren't in trouble. have a seat."

you hesitantly wandered towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

"what did you mean by.. helping mr. richardson with his work?"

"oh, well... he just.. he kept saying he was busy and asking if i could do.. certain parts of his work. and i--.. well, sometimes i'm a bit of a pushover, so i said yes."

"i see... and how much of his work, in total, did he push onto you?"

"uhm... all of it, mr. styles."

his eyes widened, "all of it? and you didn't tell a supervisor he wasn't planning on doing any of his work?"

"i.. i felt bad," you shrugged, looking down at your hands.

"yes. well... mrs. maruska, can you please bring mr. richardson back in here for a moment, please?"

you jumped when his assistant spoke behind you, not realizing she was even in the room.

"yes, mr. styles."

it was silent for a minute after the door shut, maybe two minutes, until the door re-opened and two pairs of footsteps entered.

"mr. richardson, before you leave, you are going to do something for me," mr. styles spoke. "you are going to apologize to y/n--"

you nearly choke on your own spit at his use of your first name.

"for making her do all of your work. and.. you will also apologize for whatever the hell that was i heard outside. that is no way to speak to any colleague."

josh scoffed, "i'm not apologiz--"

"i'm not asking."

mr. styles gaze switched to you as josh begrudgingly sighed, "i'm sorry, y/n."

"it's okay," you murmured, glancing at him.

"no, it isn't," mr. styles quickly interjected, keeping his eyes on you. you much preferred them on you than on josh. they were a lot kinder when they focused on you. softer. "but.. if ms. townes says it is alright... you may leave now."

you aren't quite sure what happens afterwards, because you keep your gaze away from mr. styles, because you're afraid he'll notice how nervous he makes you.

"how many did you have left?" mr. styles asked quietly. softly.

"i have 130 done. so.. seventy left. but i-- i can get them done soon, i promise. i can just stay late, or.. or--"

"no. none of that. you'll submit the ones you have.. and we'll figure out something for the rest."

"really? i mean.. are you sure?"

"i wouldn't have offered if i wasn't. you can go, now."

"thank you, mr. styles," you mumbled, standing and walking to the door.

right as you grabbed the handle, he called out.

"oh, and y/n?"

you turned around with a furrow in your brows.

"let me know if you have any other problems."

you can't even help the foolish smile on your lips as you nod and leave the room.

--

a/n: part 1!! i really love this request

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

In A Rut (Monster!Hawks x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Keigo “Hawks” Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Coworkers to Lovers)

Synopsis: You haven't seen your boss around the office in a while ever since he started feeling "under the weather", but when you decide to visit him one day to cheer him up with some soup, you realize that this isn't a normal spring cold. Your boss is in heat and you, his good little assistant, are the only one who can help him cure it.

Warnings: Monsterfucking; Monsterfucker!Reader; Mild Power Play; Boss x Assistant; Mild BDSM; MDom/fsub; Marking; Heat Symptoms; Hawks Has a Big ol’ Dick; Deepthroat; Cunnilingus; Sloppy, Rough Sex; Scent Play; Overstimulation; Ownership; Multiple Orgasms; Multiple Creampies; Multiple Positions; Cum Play; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Happy spring, y'all!! 💐💐🌼🌼🌻🌻 Fucking FINALLY winter & the cold is gone! Now that the weather is heating up, I wanted to write something about my favorite birdman suffering from heat. Enjoy! -Jazz

**********

You’re worried about Mr. Takami. 

Or “Hawks” as he’s told several of his employees, staff, and interns to call him around his agency time and time again. But as his personal assistant for over a year, you take respect and professionalism very seriously. 

Hawks is one of the most laidback bosses you’ve had in your professional career. He doesn’t make you fetch coffee unless you’re getting some for yourself, he’s flexible with deadlines, he lets you go home early despite the workload, and has all of his employees take off on Fridays…which he also pays for. 

Though it’s a nice change, you also can’t help but be wary of Hawks. It isn’t that he’s a bad guy. He is considerably nice––always greeting you in the mornings; checking up on you in the afternoons; letting you use his office when he isn’t in it, etc.

But he is also extremely cocky. It comes with the territory of being pro hero #2, you suppose, but the way he saunters into the office every Monday through Thursday in his designer clothes and Rolex watch always rubs you the wrong way. 

Not to mention he’s a humongous flirt. Your friend calls it being “overly friendly”. She also says he doesn’t flirt with any other woman at his agency like he does you. He always gives you those charming smiles that seem to irk you to no end and puts that flirty lilt in his voice when he speaks to you. Not to mention the constant compliments on your outfits and work that stick with you until the end of your shifts. 

Last week on Monday, the last day you saw him, was no different. You were sitting with your friend at your desk that morning, sipping on your iced coffee before the 9 AM meeting. Your friend was giving you the latest gossip on two employees hooking up in the stairwell during lunch last week when you both saw Hawks sauntering into the office. 

“Shh, shh!” she hushes you even though you didn’t say anything. She straightened up and smiled at your boss, bowing. “Good morning, Mr. Takami,” she chirps. The blonde, in his navy blue suit and red bottoms, gave you each a smile that lingered on you for too long. “Ladies,” he greets. 

You looked away, busying yourself by checking your email. “I’ve got your schedule and plans for today’s meeting for you,” your friend said, passing him a folder. “And your coffee, made by yours truly.” She nudged you, making you narrow your eyes at her. 

“Ah, thank you!” Hawks happily sighed. “And I told you before: just call me Hawks. I don’t need all of that ‘Mr’ shit.” His golden eyes then trailed down to you, his stare making you feel uncomfortable in your long-sleeve blouse. “Thank you, Ms. L/N,” he purrs. “See you at the meeting?” 

He gave you a wink, a hint at his joking manner, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. He was always picking on you like this. “I’m required to be there as your assistant so, yes,” you replied, blandly so.

He didn’t think anything of it. “Good,” he hummed happily. “I’ll need my right hand when I get tired of talking or my coffee doesn’t kick in fast enough. Carry on.” 

He gave you a flitting wink before walking off to his office for some time alone. Once gone, your friend fanned herself. “Oh, my God, he’s so fucking fine!” she groaned. You shushed her, hitting her arm. “Come on, his office is right there!” you hissed. “He might hear you!” 

“But isn’t he so fine?” your friend went on, ignoring your warning. “You have to admit that he’s fine!” You chose your words carefully, stirring your straw around in your coffee. “He’s…okay,” you weakly replied. “But he’s our boss! Whatever I think of him doesn’t matter.” At least you told yourself that. 

The meeting was about new anti-discrimination policies in workplaces and merging with UA High and Indeed to create a special job website for aspiring pro heroes and those with quirks. 

You sat across from Hawks and Rumi, his friend and co-owner of the agency, who sipped on her coffee free of cream and sugar. “Took you long enough,” she grumbled to Hawks. “What, you forget to fluff your feathers this mornin’ or somethin’?” 

You giggled to yourself at her joke before the meeting started. You met with Principal Nezu who happily bowed in front of the laptop personally set up to meet his eye level. “Good morning, everyone!” he exclaimed. “I appreciate all of you for your time today, including the Indeed associates, and for Hawks for allowing me to take you away from work for a moment. Now, Hawks, if you would like to share your opinion first?” 

The pro sat back in his chair, legs crossed and glasses perched on his eyes. You secretly liked it when he wore glasses. “I think it’s a perfect idea,” he said with a shrug. “As I’m sure all of you know, my agency is open to all new talent, whether they graduated from UA or not. We don’t discriminate against anyone with a particular quirk or education. As long as they are willing to learn, respect our rules, and participate in training, we will hire them.” 

“But what if the public has concerns about who we hire and whether they will be able to effectively do their jobs with no UA education or license?” one of the Indeed associates asked. Hawks smiled. “I’m glad you asked that.” He nodded at you, smiling warmly. “Y/N, would you mind answering this question? After all, it’s your wonderful brain that came out with such a well-thought-out plan for this.” 

Though you flushed at the compliment, you pushed those butterflies away and stood. “This agency is not new to the scrutiny of the public,” you explain, poised and calm. “Hawks and Nezu-san are proposing the opening of a new pro hero license program for those who cannot afford UA or are over the age of 18. This program would include…” You continued just as you rehearsed, not looking at Hawks who looked dead at you, almost as if he was staring through your clothes. 

When you finally finished, you sat and Nezu thanked you for your well-spoken words. “What is your opinion on that, Hawks?” he asked. The pro didn’t answer, too busy staring at you. Now his eyes were hooded and looked slightly sharper than they were before. You squirmed uncomfortably in your seat, mostly because of how warm his stare made you. 

“Hawks!” Rumi hisses in his ear. The blonde blinked, snapping out of it. “Huh?” he dumbly asked, looking up at the screen. “Are you alright?” Nezu worriedly asked. Everyone was staring at him, including you. He had never acted like this before. “Yeah, just…” He paused, clearing his throat as a flush appeared on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” 

Nezu repeated himself, asking for Hawks’ opinion on the internship program and when he’d prefer to announce it. “It is the spring already, but I believe the summer is when most of my student body will be looking to do internships,” he explained. 

You watched as Hawks’ eyes grew wide at the mention of spring, but he did his best to keep it lowkey. But you noticed. “U-Uh, yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll do it in April.” You also noticed his body language for the rest of the meeting: his knee bouncing anxiously; his eyes flicking from yours to back at the screen or down at his papers; his cheeks flushed red. 

Was he sick? Was it the coffee you made? After the meeting, Rumi confronted him on it, grabbing his elbow. “Hey, what the hell happened in there?” she asked. “You looked like you were about to deck Y/N!” 

“I…sorry,” he huffed. “I just…” He paused, seeing you and his eyes roamed over your lower body in your pencil skirt. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he quickly replied before rushing off to his office. You followed him. You don’t know why you did. Maybe you felt obligated to do so as if his assistant. Maybe you just needed to make sure he was okay. 

So you knocked on his door, tentatively so. “Come in,” he raggedly said. You opened the door and automatically closed it behind you. Hawks leaned against his desk, his back to you, breathing concerningly hard like he just got off the treadmill. 

“Mr. Takami?” you questioned. Your heels clicked against the hardwood floor as you walked farther into his spacious, high-rise office. “Hawks, is everything alright?” Hawks didn’t look at you as he spoke: “Y-Yeah,” he replied, still sounding winded. “What’s up?” 

You stood two feet away from him, afraid to get near. You didn’t want to spook him or cross any boundaries. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be writing a ‘thank you’ email on your behalf to Nezu-san and the Indeed associates,” you lied though you were planning on doing that anyway.

But Hawks shook his head. “Don’t bother. You did a good job today, Y/N.” His voice sounded so off. It was usually light and syrupy, but now it sounded deep and raspy. It did things to you. 

“Did I do something wrong?” you blurted, confused at his strange behavior. The blonde quickly shook his head, turning slightly towards you. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his forearms and the feather tattoo on the inside of his left wrist. “No, no, of course not!” he protested. “I’m just…not feeling well.” 

“Well, you know you can always go home,” you said. “We can hold down the fort here like we always do.” Finally, Hawks turned around and you saw how flushed he looked, his cheeks a rouge hue. He gave a smile that felt too intimate. Too adoring. “Thank you,” he sighed. “That’s so like you. Always so professional. Always so sweet.” 

He took a step toward you and instinctively, you took a step back. “M-Mr. Takami?” you weakly asked. He continued to walk to you until you finally stood with your back to the wall, unable to escape him. His cologne clouded your senses, the scent of sweet and spicy invading your nostrils as he stopped in front of you. 

“Y/N,” he began, his voice breathlessly and soft. “I…” He stopped, raising his hand to touch you. And then he stopped, dropping his hand and using it to cover his mouth instead. “I-I’m sorry,” he muffingly said. “You should go. I don’t wanna get you sick.” 

Quickly, he reached beside you with his free hand and opened the door. The sound of chatter, coffee machines, and ringing phones smacked you back to reality. “You should go,” he said, his eyes willing you to do so. So you did and he shut the door in your face, leaving you feeling breathlessly and hot. 

That was over a week ago. After the work day, Hawks headed home and sent out a staff meeting the next morning about being out because of a “spring cold”, but he’d be back soon. “Soon” hasn’t come yet. You haven’t heard anything from him in days! 

It’s starting to worry you. A spring cold can’t last this long. Is it the flu? Is it something else? Plus, no one can seem to get in contact with him. What if something bad happened to him? 

These worrying thoughts swim in your head all week every time you see Hawks’ empty office. 

Finally, you reach your breaking point. You’re not going to call, text, or email him. You’re going to be a good assistant and instead, bring him something to let him know that you’re checking on him. Something to make him feel better. So on Friday, you leave work after your shift and stop by your favorite cafe to buy a bowl of their best chicken noodle soup.

You then drive to Hawks’ penthouse on the Upper East side of the city having kept his address to deliver things from work to his house if need be. When you park your car, you walk to the front door and click a button to buzz to his room. At first, nothing happens, so you press it again. Finally, on the third buzz, someone answers. 

“Yeah?” a deep, raspy, growly voice barks. It startles you. “Uh…I’m sorry, do I have the wrong room?” you ask. “I’m looking for Keigo Takami.” The other end of the line pauses and you think that they left. “Y/N?” they ask, sounding shocked. “Why are you here?” 

You blink at the speaker, shocked that this is your boss talking to you. Why does he sound like that? Is he that hoarse? “I came to give you some soup,” you say, suddenly shy. “I haven’t heard from you in days, so I bought this just to let up your spirits. That must be some cold.” 

You wait for a response, but when he never gives it to you, you begin to feel stupid. This was a mistake. “Well, I’m gonna go now, but I’ll give it to your doorman so he can–” 

“Don’t,” Hawks interrupts though he still sounds strained. “Come up.” You scowl in confusion, wondering if you misheard that, but then his doorman is meeting you at the front door to guide you to the elevator up to Hawks’ penthouse with the soup. 

You take the elevator up, your heart pounding and your hands shaking slightly as they hold the soup. You almost explode from your nerves when you finally make it upstairs and the doors open, revealing Hawks’ beautiful, luxurious, and empty penthouse with an included gameroom, private gym, balcony, pool, mini bar, and expensive-looking kitchen. But he is nowhere to be found. 

You walk further into the living room, your heels clicking across the hardwood floor. “Hawks?” you call. You don’t get any answer right away. The home is uncomfortably silent, making you feel paranoid. “Hawks!” you call again, louder this time. “Where are you?” 

“Upstairs!” he rasps from the staircase leading to the upper floor. “Don’t come up here!” He sounds so pained. In such agony. You place the soup on the counter, confused and worried. What’s going on? Why does he sound like he’s in trouble? 

Not listening at all to your boss’ warning, you slowly head up the steps, taking each tentative step further up in your heels. The hallway is dark when you finally make it upstairs, the only door open being the one at the end of the hallway. It is cracked and through it, you hear the sound of your boss’ soft pants and grunts of pain. Hawks’ bedroom. 

Though something inside of you is telling you to turn around, you persevere and walk towards the bedroom. Slowly, you push the door open, revealing a dark masterbedroom with drawn curtains blocking out the outside world. “Hawks?” you tentatively question. “It’s just me. I just came to–” 

“Go away!” he bellows from inside. “I told you not to come up here!” You jump, startled by the volume of his voice. He’s never yelled at you in such a way. You poke your head inside and gasp at the absolute mess of his bedroom: furniture askew; clothes and empty water bottles discarded on the floor; a rumbled mess of red sheets on the bed.

The smell in the air is thick with sweat and something else. Something tropical. Coconut oil? You look towards the king-sized bed where a heap sits hunched under the sheets which move up and down as it pants heavily. You thought it was just a pile of clothes at first, but no. There’s something under there. 

“Hawks?” you question, your voice wavering in fear. The strange heap stirs, reacting to your voice. It breathes raggedly, almost as if it can’t get enough air in its lungs. “Hawks, what’s going on?” you demand. “Tell me. I want to help you.” 

But he turns away, the sheets shifting as he does. “You can’t,” he whines. “You can’t.” Not being able to take how he sounds anymore, you storm over to the bed and snatch the sheets off of him. There, under the covers, you see your boss with your own two eyes. “H-Hawks?” you whisper. “Is that you?” 

You almost can’t believe it. He has gotten much bigger in the past couple of days since you’ve last seen him, his muscles almost bulging. His pecs are ridiculously big, his nipples hard and perky, and veins protrude from his forearms and hands. Speaking of hands, they barely resemble human hands anymore. Red feathers sprout from his skin and long, sharp talons have grown out of his fingernails like knives. 

When he looks at you, his face is flushed and his eyes are nothing more than red slits, those warm, golden irises gone. But all of those things aren’t even the most shocking to you. You are more shocked by the size of his wings. They have doubled in size, nearly taking up the entirety of the bed, and are red as the purest blood. His feathers shake and ruffle as if someone has run their fingers through them, disturbing their peace. 

He looks shocked to see you and then embarrassed. “I didn’t want you comin’ up here,” he pants. “Didn’t want you seein’ me like…this.” He shifts and sits up so the sheet falls off of him, revealing his naked body to you. He is flushed and coated in sweat all over his tan skin and toned muscles. Your eyes trail down his abs and V-line to his cock which is way too obvious to look away from. 

He is big and throbbing, the head a blush red and dripping in precum. One mouth-watering, angry vein trails from his shaft up to the head of his cock that twitches. Hawks winces, not looking like he is enjoying this at all. In fact, he looks like he’s in complete agony. You can’t be embarrassed or mortified by this when he looks so awful. “W-What happened to you?” you softly gasp. 

He covers his throbbing dick with the sheet, but it’s no use. You can still see it protruding from underneath it, creating an obvious tent. “I’m in heat,” he sighs. “It’s what us mammals go through around this time. A spring thing.”

He wipes the sweat off of his forehead, his blonde hair soaked in it. “That’s why I’ve been hiding,” he explains. “I’ve been here tryna get through this, but I just…can’t!” 

He grabs at his hair, running his hands through it. Now you understand it: his absence; the transformation; the smell of coconut oil in the air. You feel yourself blush, feeling hot in your clothes. All of this because he’s horny?

“How long does it last?” you curiously ask, but you’re not even sure you want to know. Hawks sighs, looking doomed. “Either a day or months depending on if my heat is satisfied.” 

“Months?” you gasp. “Are you in pain?” 

Hawks’ face screws up, triggering something in your core. “Terrible, baby,” he groans, wrapping a hand around his cock, his talons long enough to curl around the entire thing...and he’s at least 12 inches. “I can’t even sleep. I’ve been up for days, sweatin’ through my sheets and tryin’ to cum as many times as I can.” He releases himself and looks down at his hands, clenching them. “But my hands don’t do it for me anymore and I broke my fuckin’ toy.” 

He nods at the fleshlight you didn’t even notice lying near his nightstand, completely broken in half. He completely tore that pussy out the frame, you realize in shock. What the fuck could he do to a real one? “O-Oh,” you exhale. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, running his hand down his sweaty face. “I’m sorry about this, Y/N, really. I didn’t want anyone seein’ me like this.” He looks away from you, appearing so utterly humiliated and ashamed that it pains you. You find yourself not liking him like this: so utterly downtrodden and hopeless. “What can I do?” you blurt. 

He faces you, his slitted eyes widening. “What?” he gasps. “What do you–” 

“I wanna help you, Hawks,” you cut in, already taking off your cardigan to reveal your pretty, pink blouse underneath that you paired with a skirt. “What can I do to help you get through this?” 

He watches you, looking completely stunned and mortified, but his cock also twitches at the sight of your outfit. “No, no, baby, no,” he protests. “Y-You can’t…you don’t need to do this.” But you stand firm on your decision, refusing to leave him like this. “I know I don’t need to,” you firmly respond. “I want to. Just look at you! I can’t let you go on like this.” 

Hawks still doesn’t move, but his cock begins to leak pre for you, dripping down his thick thighs and onto the mattress. The sight is so lewd but so arousing, making your pussy throb indeciently in your panties. You shouldn’t be doing this. There are so many consequences you could face from this…but you also find that you don’t care right now. “Let me help you, Hawks,” you whisper. “Just tell me what I need to do to help you. I’m your assistant, after all.” 

A fire explodes behind Hawks’ eyes, lit with lust and need. A low growl leaves his chest and you find that he has fangs in his mouth. The sight scares and thrills you. “You wanna help me?” he asks in his low, deep voice. “Then take off your clothes.” 

You swallow hard, feeling like you just dry-swallowed a gigantic pill. You start with your blouse, your painted fingernails teasing the buttons before you begin to pop them open one by one. You expose your lacy bra to him, one of your favorites because of how it makes your breasts look: pretty, juicy, and appetizing with the lace trim of the cups adorning them. 

You peel off the blouse and let it fall to your feet. Hawks barely notices it, too busy staring dead at your chest. He slowly begins to pump his cock with his hand, lewd, wet sounds of his pre and coconut oil acting as lubricants drifting to your ears. Under his laser-eyed gaze, you feel like an animal being watched behind a cage. A specimen. It makes you feel slightly uncomfortable, but also hot and bothered to see that you’re affecting him so deeply. 

You then move to your skirt and begin to unzip it, but Hawks puts a hand out to stop you. “Slowly, mama,” he raggedly says. “Don’t rush this.” Biting your lip, you slowly drag the zipper down and then slide the skirt off of your waist, leaving you in just your matching bra and panties. You go to take off your stockings and heels, but he stops you. “Leave ‘em on,” he demands. 

So you stand there, arms at your sides and trembling like a leaf. “Turn around,” he orders, his pink lips parted as he continues to fuck his hand nice and slow. You listen and turn, exposing your ass to him. “Ah, shit,” he hisses, soft pants leaving his lips. “I knew you had a nice ass.” 

You bite your lip, feeling your pussy flutter and throb impatiently. “Sit on the bed and bend over for me,” he orders. “I’m not gonna touch you. I just wanna see you rub that pussy for me, okay?” 

You turn around, staring down at your shoes. “Yes, sir,” you whisper and flush at your words. They just came out of you, as naturally as breathing. 

Hawks shudders, affected by your reply. “Such a good girl,” he sighs dreamily. “I’ll definitely take that over just ‘Hawks’ right now. But ‘Keigo’ works too.” Your face grows hot with a blush, having never referred to him by his first name before. Not wanting to waste his time, you slowly get on the bed and face away from him, your feet tucked under your butt. 

Then you bend over for him, your back arched. “Yes, that’s it,” he encourages, softly panting and the move bouncing slightly from his ministrations on himself. “Pull those panties to the side, baby. Let me see you.” Biting your lip so hard that you’re sure to draw blood, you pull the thin strip of cotton covering your sodden, wet, puffy pussy to the side and expose all of you to him. 

Hawks shudderingly moans at the sight of the wet strand of your arousal connected from your pussy lips to your panties. “God, mama,” he groans. “You have the prettiest pussy. Look how wet you are!” He growls once more, sounding so much like an animal. “You like what you’re doin’ to me?” You can tell he’s started to stroke himself harder, faster, his pants and heavy breaths becoming more intense. “Keigo,” you softly whimper. 

You’ve never been this horny before. Your pussy is about to slide off the bone with how wet it is. 

“That’s right, say my name,” he groans. “Play with your pussy, baby. Don’t let me do this alone.” 

So you do. You sneak your hand down your ass, teasing him before you begin to rub your cunt for him in time with his strokes. A weak moan leaves your lips as you rub your clit in tiny, firm circles, your ministrations impassioned by the sounds leaving Hawks’ lips. He sounds so desperate. So slutty as he pumps his cock, imagining that he’s doing so to your pretty, little pussy. “So fuckin’ cute,” he says, agonized at your beauty and sexiness. “How the fuck are you this adorable?” 

You want to look back and see him, but you get the feeling that he doesn’t want to be watched, so you instead close your eyes and drift away at the sounds of his moans and his lubed cock fucking his hand, making the bed bounce slightly underneath you. You imagine that he’s fucking you like that, his big hands gripping your ass and talons digging into the fleshy part of your ass cheeks. You can almost feel his cock stretching you out, pumping you full again and again as he uses you, doing his best to not break you like he did his fleshlight. 

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. “K-Keigo!” you whine. “Fuck, I’m about to cum!” Hawks groans at your warning, happy to hear this. “Uh-huh,” he pants. “Do it for me, baby. Cum all over those fingers for me.” 

And you do. You rub and flick your clit until it can’t take any more stimulation and explodes all over your hand. Your sweet moans of release push Hawks over the edge. “Fuck!” he bellows, his voice bouncing off of the walls as he cums in his hand, shooting warm cum all over his thighs and stomach. Your moans and whines mix with one another, creating a symphony of pleasure as you both cum together. 

When the high of your orgasms finally fades, you both sit there for a moment, panting and sitting in the reality of your situation. “I…I’m sorry,” Hawks awkwardly huffs.

You don’t answer, unsure of what to say until you turn around and find that he’s still hard. “Keigo!” you gasp. “Y-You’re still–” 

“I know,” he sighs, frustration evident in his handsome face. “Like I said, my hands ain’t doin’ it for me at this point. I need more.”

His slitted eyes, red as crimson blood, narrow at you, a deeper meaning in his words. You gulp, weighing your options but only briefly. You realize you’re thinking more with your pussy than with your head, but the curiosity of feeling Hawks’ wings wrapped around you while he fucks you is too tempting. 

“Keigo, it’s okay,” you softly purr, putting a hand on his thigh. He flinches as if your touch burns him. “We can do more if you need it.” You then dip your fingers between your thighs and come back with them dripping in your cum. His cock twitches at the sight, but he doesn’t have to imagine how you taste for too long. 

You lean forward and put your fingers to his lips. “Use me,” you say, a plea in your voice. “I’m all yours.”

Right then, something in Hawks snaps the moment he wraps his lips around your fingers and greedily sucks your cum off of them. He is no longer entirely human, his animal instincts taking over. He snatches you up and places you in his lap, emitting a small gasp from you at being yanked up so forcefully. “Just tell me ‘no’ if you want me to stop,” he orders. “And tap my thigh three times if I got my cock in that mouth. Understand me?” 

Unable to reply, you wordlessly nod. That’s enough for him. Immediately, he’s on you, pressing a rough yet passionate kiss to your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip and swirling his tongue with yours. His kiss is brutal yet hot; forceful yet careful as he wraps you up in his arms and soft wings. It’s the best kiss you’ve had in your life. 

And the sex he gives you by far trumps all of the other bedroom adventures you’ve had. You’re so glad he gave you a non-verbal safety precaution because Hawks takes the “use” thing literally when he finally gets his dick down your throat. He is as big and thick as he looks, your fingers barely being able to wrap around his girty, throbbing shaft. 

You have to cover his cock in copious amounts of spit and coconut oil just to make it easier to stroke him, Hawks’ crimson, lustful eyes and soft moans encouraging you. “That’s it, baby bird,” he growls, one clawed hand in your hair. “Take me nice and easy.” Though he allows you to slowly take his cock down your throat, it doesn’t do much to ease the stretch of your jaw. 

Unfortunately for you, Hawks’ heat gets the best of him and his impatience rises, making your time to adjust to his size shorter. When he grabs your hair and begins to fuck your face, you have no choice but to take it. He shoves his cock so deep down your throat that your eyes burn with tears and embarrassing, wet gagging sounds leave your mouth as you gurgle around his cock that throbs and pulses in your mouth. 

“Thaaat’s my girl,” Hawks grunts, staring down at you throating his dick. “You’re takin’ this dick like a champ, baby bird, y’know. You could make this a profession if workin’ as an assistant don’t work out.” He takes his cock out and taps it against your tongue, loving how slutty you look for him with your tongue hanging out and makeup a mess. 

“Or you could add this to your duties of bein’ my little assistant,” he hums, smearing his cockhead across your plump lips. “You could fetch my coffee and take this dick over my desk every workday. How would that sound?” He doesn’t allow you to answer as he grabs you again and forces you down onto his cock, groaning at how amazing your wet tongue and soft mouth feel. “God!” he groans. “I hope your pussy is this fuckin’ tight.” 

His curiosity gets the best of him. After a few minutes of fucking your throat like it’s a toy, he pulls out with a moan, giving you heart eyes at the image of your messy hair and sloppy mouth dripping in spit. He holds your face in his big hands, his talons gently caressing your cheeks. “On your back,” he orders. You must go too slow for him because he tosses you down onto your backside himself and quickly ducks between your thighs, his big, feathered hands parting them. 

“K-Keigo,” you stammer, but that’s all you can get out before he’s cutting the waistband of your panties off with his teeth and sliding his big, fat, wet tongue all over your slit.

All words cease to exist as pleasure washes over you which only builds the more his tongue swirls against your clit and inside of you. Your eyes widen and your hands dig into the skin of his muscular back that flexes as he dips his head low to eat you out. His soft wings caress your skin as they wrap around you, making you feel like you’re being pampered from all ends. 

Hawks knows how to run his mouth, but also knows how to work it. His tongue moves magically inside of you, slurping up your juices as his nose and soft lips bump against your clit. You grind your hips up into him, meeting his tongue thrusts while his talons dig into the fleshy parts of your ass.

You can’t keep quiet, too enveloped in the ecstasy you’re feeling. “God, yes, Keigo!” you whine, bucking your hips up. “That feels so fuckin’ good! Keep going, please, ooooh, shit!” 

Hawks gladly takes all of those lovely sounds, moaning into your cunt. He is a rapid, ravenous animal, slurping up your pussy like he’s yearning for it. “So good,” he whines into your clit. “So fuckin’ good.” 

Your orgasm comes rather quickly, that knot in your core threatening to snap as he continues to work his tongue in and out of you. “Fuck, Kei!” you sob. “I’m gonna fuckin’ cum! Please let me cum, sir please!” 

“Mmm-hmm,” Keigo hums, sucking gently on your pussy lips. “Do it for me, baby bird. Cum all over my fucking face.” He goes back to eating you out, moving his tongue against that little spot up and inside of you that makes you see stars. “Do it,” he growls in his deep, gravelly voice. “Fuckin’ cum for me. Give it to me now!” 

A scream erupts from you–”Oh, shit!”–as you explode all over Hawks’ tongue. He moans in release with you as he slurps and laps you up, drinking in all that give him while you buck and writhe under his hands. Even when the orgasm high fades, he doesn’t stop. He continues to eat you out even as your pussy and body twitches. “O-Okay, Hawks,” you stammer. “Please, ah, please stop. I-I can’t…oh, my God!” 

Tears prick your eyes as the agonizing pleasure continues, swallowing you whole. His crimson eyes stare up into yours between your thighs, loving how desperate and pathetically horny you look as you writhe against his tongue. But as good as you taste, he needs to know how you feel. So he hikes himself up on top of you, his big body covering your smaller one, and his wings creating a curtain around you. 

“I’m gonna be honest with you, baby,” he pants. “I need to fuck you now and when I do, I ain’t gonna be nice. I need to cum as many times as it takes to ease this heat and that could be hours. You sure you’re okay with that?” Despite his obvious need, he is holding back, his cock throbbing against your thigh. 

Knowing that, you nod and press a kiss to his lips. “Yes, Keigo,” you purr. “I want this too.” You give him a smile, pretty and seductive. “So fuck me.”

The pro doesn’t need to be told twice. He starts by fucking you on your back, your knees tucked up into your chest. You’re happy for the lubricant and orgasm because it is a stretch. His cock stretches your pussy out in a way it didn’t do to your jaw, making your mouth go slack and your eyes widen. “Relax, mama,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your face while he rubs your clit. “You’re doin’ so well takin’ me.” 

After a few minutes of adjusting and slow strokes, Hawks feels you relax around him and finally begins to pound you like he needs to. He fucks you into the mattress that shakes and bounces beneath you, making your tits bounce in time with his thrusts. Each pump of his thick cock sends sparks of pleasure throughout your body as your soft, spongy pussy walls stretch and mold into his shape. 

“O-Oh, my God!” you cry, grasping his shoulders as he takes you straight to poundtown. “Fuck, Keigo, yes, baby! Fuck me just like that!” 

The winged pro grips your thighs and pins them down to the bed, giving you a stretch that yoga couldn’t even do. “Just like that?” he teasingly asks, smirking down at you. “Look at you takin’ this dick like a champ, baby bird. Bet you couldn’t wait for your boss to fuck you, huh?” 

You whine in response, earning a tongue shoved in your mouth as Hawks gives you a wet French kiss while he pounds into you. He nuzzles his nose into your neck next, covering himself in your scent and you in his.

You’re so deep in the pleasure that you don’t even realize that Hawks’ feathers, sharpened to the touch, cut off your bra until you feel the cool air on your nipples and then pleasure as he stimulates them with his feathers. 

When he begins to get closer, his crimson eyes glow red and the black rimming his eyes grows sharper like a hawk’s. You feel scared yet aroused at the same time, your pussy clenching around his cock. “I’m gonna cum, baby,” he grunts. “Gonna fill you up. Want you to fuckin’ cum with me too!” 

“Fuck, Hawks!” you whine, tossing your head back against the pillow. Your second orgasm erupts and sends you on a trip while Keigo fucks you like he’s trying to hit a home run. When he cums, he does so with an animalistic grunt and grips your hips so hard that they bruise. He tosses his blonde hair back, every muscle in his body tense from the pleasure. You gasp as he fills you up with his cum, feeling warmth flooding inside of you. It feels good to be full, you realize. 

But even when the orgasm fades and he has successfully filled you up, Hawks looks down at you with an increased level of need and lust that shakes you. “I ain’t done with you yet,” he growls. 

And he’s not. He fucks you in every single position imaginable. He fucks you doggy style, his cock pumping into you again and again while he yanks on your hair and dirty talks in your ear.

“You my little slut?” he pants, his hand grabbing and smacking your ass. “You love gettin’ fucked by me? You love this number 2 pro hero dick, don’t you, baby?” You can only whine in response, words and logical thoughts completely gone as he turns your pussy into mush. 

He fucks you on your side, his big body spooning yours and red wings wrapped around you as his throbbing cock drives inside of you. In this position, it’s easier to rub your clit and tilt your head back to kiss him, the two of you sharing breath as you hotly pant and moan into each other’s mouths. 

He fucks you with your head hanging off the bed and your leg pinned up to get a better angle at your G-spot and to drive himself deeper into you. 

He fucks you in mating press, his feet on the bed as he mounts you and drives himself inside of you like he’s trying hard to breed you. 

He fucks you in full nelson. 

In prone bone, his hands massaging your ass. 

While standing up, you bouncing like a cute little fuck bunny in his arms on his dick. 

From the bottom while you ride him, both from the front and the back, his hands groping your bouncing tits and jiggling ass. 

“Mine,” he growls to you in every position known to bed that he puts you in. “You’re fuckin’ mine, baby bird. Only mine.” 

And in every single position, he makes you and himself cum. He seems to always know how to trigger your orgasm so you cum again and again. He then uses your tight walls to chase his orgasms, cumming inside of you and filling up over and over again. He makes you sweat out your hair and your makeup, making you look like the sexiest Goddess to him as you take his cock like it’s your job. 

By the time he finally finishes, hours have passed and you are spent. Your body aches. You are wet with sweat and cum. Your pussy twitches and is sloppy with his and your cum mixed together, all of it dripping down your thighs and through the crack of your ass. 

Hawks, finally back to his normal self, lies down next to you and snuggles you into his chest. “Thank you for doin’ that,” he sighs, pecking you on the forehead. “You did so, so well for me, honey. I hope a dinner date can make up for that workout.” 

You only mewl tiredly in response, but you wrap your arms around him and snuggle into his chest. He chuckles, the sound pleasant to your ear pressed against his heart. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he sighs.

And then you sleep, satisfied and comfortable finally. 

THE END. 

[xinxiaogato]

— love at first thrust

summary. as an ambassador from mondstadt, your goal was to persuade the duke of fontaine’s underwater fortress (who reportedly had a herculean physique and an absolute bakery) to agree with your plan on improving international relations. the last thing you anticipated was for him to agree to you getting his rocks off.

love interest. fem!reader x wriothesley.

warnings. unedited, 18+ content (mdni), nsfw, cursing, masturbation, voyuerism, size difference kink, cunnilingus, fingering, name calling (slut), slight orgasm denial, skin biting, almost a handjob, angst (somehow) and comfort, mentions of murder, mentions of pregnancy, porn w plot, virginity loss, unprotected sex, p in v, fondling, rough sex, impregnation, bdsm (handcuffs), soft dom!wrio.

word count. 5,303.

note. my first time dabbling in smut… to whoever is reading this that somehow knows me irl, pls turn straight around ! you are referred to as “reader” by the way.

romance schmomance. how did anyone expect wriothesley to allocate time in his schedule for a lover while properly running the fortress of meropide? his grace was perfectly content with teasing his two tsundere subordinates, who refused to face their feelings for each other. besides, love appeared too complicated of a matter, as evidenced by the prisoners he overheard lamenting on a day-to-day basis about their marital affairs and unsuccessful endeavors in flirting.

but sigewinne thought otherwise, pestering him recommending that he seek a partner because not only would it fulfill his social needs but also satisfy his sexual urges (he scrunched up his nose every time she made that point). frankly, all the duke needed was his right hand, some lotion, and a thirty-minute break of privacy.

…so what was a pair of eyes doing from the staircase to his office, staring incredulously at him fucking his cock into his curled fist during the thirty-minute break of privacy?

keyword: privacy, meaning no one was supposed to be in his office during this time!

a few minutes earlier…

“ah, ms. reader, right this way!”

an eager guard ushered you to an imposing set of metal doors to which your house back in mondstadt paled in comparison. as the guard, who appeared to be a rookie, fumbled with the keys to the administrator’s office, you turned your attention to the rest of the surroundings that seamlessly blended together due to the lack of decor. rusting pipes ran from the bottom up in austere grandeur, and warm lights were scattered across the stronghold, illuminating the faces of the few dozen or so prisoners wandering around the open space. 

although the conditions weren’t all sunshine and rainbows (literally, since the fortress is hundreds of feet under the surface), serving time in the fortress of meropide was bearable enough to the point that some convicts continued living there even after their sentences were up. this was the piece of information that piqued your interest during extensive research into the nation of justice, as access to rehabilitative programs while incarcerated had reduced the crime rate there.

thus, there you stood, prepared to present the ultimate strategy for promoting bilateral relations to the administrator of fontaine’s correctional institution. in exchange for advice from monsieur wriothesley on how to reform mondstadt’s prison system, the two neighboring countries could collaborate on an event similar to that of the “neighboring nations congenial poetry gala” between mondstadt and liyue.

it made sense since both fontaine and mondstadt were renowned for their romanticism, and the only other thing you could offer from your hometown besides poetry and artistry was… wine, which you knew wouldn’t fly. no government wanted more drunkards bumbling down their streets than they already had.

finally, the guard pushed the doors open (not without almost popping a vein) and gestured for you to enter monsieur wriothesley’s office, and once you did, you averted your gaze to the spiraling set of stairs.

however, prior to making your presence known, strange… grunting noises from the upper floor sent a shiver down your spine and planted you firmly to the ground. rapidly, your mind swirled with a million possibilities of what the source could be. although the duke was allegedly benign, he was still a warden through and through. was he personally punishing someone for their misconduct?

it frankly sounded quite painful, and you were getting worried that you came in at a bad time. after all, you did arrive an hour earlier than scheduled.

…one peek couldn’t hurt, right?

then you’ll be able to determine whether or not he needed a minute.

curiosity killed the cat, and that cat was you. because after gingerly ascending the staircase and stopping to be able to peek just above the metal floor, you chanced upon a scene that not even your wildest dreams could conjure.

the black-haired duke’s coat was popped open, with the hem of his dress shirt stuffed between his lips to muffle groan after groan that flowed past them. for several long seconds, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scars running down his neck and heaving pectorals, gleaming in a slight sheen of sweat.

and when you did manage to tear your eyes away, they instantly flitted past his abdomen (which needed its own place in a museum) to the sight of wriothesley’s large—and you meant large—appendage thrusting desperately into his calloused hand between his gargantuan thighs. a bit of precum dribbled from the tip, trailing down his length only to be pushed back up by his fingers and creating a frothy ring near the head of his cock.

you had to stifle a gasp behind your clipboard, trying to process what the hell was happening. the prison administrator and his little friend definitely needed a minute, so you quickly swiveled around to give them just that—only for the sound of his chair screeching backward to freeze you in your tracks.

“who goes there?” his voice boomed throughout the office.

shit!

your heels weren’t doing you much of a favor as you bolted down the staircase, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins overrode every inconvenience to get you to the doorway as fast as possible. however, you didn’t have the strength to budge the doors open (what were they made of? tungsten!?), and before you could even blink, wriothesley had you trapped between the only way out and his bulky figure.

“you thought you could get away?” he snarled, grabbing you by the shoulder (with the hand that was just wrapped around his dick, mind you!) to twist you around and get a good look at your face. your clipboard clattered to the floor, and you nearly screamed when his cock—which was somehow more enraged than he was—prodded against your stomach, making your insides feel like they were doing backflips.

you tried your best not to look at… it… as you spoke up to defend yourself. “sir, it isn’t what it looks like—”

“i think it’s exactly what it looks like,” he interjected angrily, thick eyebrows furrowed above a pair of piercing blue eyes. “what? did one of your fellow inmates dare you to snoop on the warden for blackmail? how many coupons did they offer? hmm?”

“inmates? coupons?” now your eyebrows were furrowed. “monsieur, if you could please let me explain!”

it took a second for wriothesley to regain his senses, and after noticing your foreign attire and trembling form, he retreated at once. “archons, i…” he stroked his face with his hand and covered his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh. “i’m terribly sorry. i thought you were one of them.”

“them?”

he nodded dejectedly in response before dropping his hand to the side and meeting your eyes, but this time, it wasn’t with indignation. “yes, a group of ill-intentioned people recently formed in order to unmask my secrets…” he had to look away for a moment before continuing. “...one of them being what i do in my office during lunchtime.”

“...oh.”

“as for you…” over his broad chest, he crossed his arms that could crush watermelons with one flex (okay, maybe you were overexaggerating.) “how did you gain entry into my office? it should have been locked.”

you cleared your throat. “a guard let me in.” wriothesley parted his lips to question that, but you were already one step ahead. “he seemed new.”

the warden managed to put two and two together, and a sense of dread began consuming him from head to toe. “you’re… the envoy from mondstadt,” he realized, a taste in his mouth more bitter than the tea he oversteeped this morning. “i must say: you’re a bit early.”

you replied with a light shrug, “the cavalry is expeditious.”

“right. that’s… great.” he gave you a tight-lipped smile. “could… could you give me a minute? i would like to make myself presentable so that i can give you a proper introduction, and… again, i want to apologize for having you walk in on something so vulgar. i’ll be sure to compensate for it in any way possible.”

your original plan from the beginning was to give this man a minute, but… the longer you stood in his presence, the more aroused you felt. he was really handsome, standing many heads taller than you and practically oozing with sex appeal. the tidbits about his appearance that you heard through the grapevine in mondstadt couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing. watching him jerking off earlier, there was definitely a moment when you wanted to replace his hand with your cunt.

pause.

this might be the only opportunity for you to break away from the perfect image you were constantly upholding. throughout your adolescence and young adulthood, you had trained to become a professional in your field and garnered copious experience in diplomacy so that you could obtain a high-ranking position in government. this caused you to miss out on a lot of the joys in life, including sex. that was the first time you had seen a penis in the flesh.

“did you say any way possible?” you inquired.

“of course, i’m a reasonable man. i doubt i’ll be opposed to anything during today’s negotiations.”

after a moment of hesitation, you braced yourself for an eternity’s supply of humiliation and let your last thread of sanity snap in two. you fell to your knees right in front of his throbbing member, which was still as hard as a rock.

“...then you won’t be opposed to this, right?” you murmured. in a bold move, you leaned forward to press your cheek against the side of his cock, all while maintaining eye contact with him.

wriothesley sharply inhaled through his teeth, blood rushing to his face as he took a step back. “what… what are you…!?”

but he wasn’t dumb. he knew what you were intending. however, this felt more like you were doing a favor for him when he was supposed to be doing one for you.

and do one he shall. 

in one frame, you were hunkered down on the floor in front of his grace, and in the next frame, you were being carried to the second floor of the office in his sinewy arms. you were in no danger of being dropped, but you clung onto his shirt regardless, squealing your head off and flailing your legs like a feral animal, which only added to wriothesley’s amusement.

“are you regretting your decision?” he asked, his lips curled into a smug smile. “i can always stop. just say the word.”

your heart was racing at a mile a minute as he kicked a coffee table out of the way and plopped you onto the couch. when he crouched between your legs, a sheepish you batted his greedy hands away and hurriedly shoved your thighs together. “wait, i… this is escalating way too fast!” you quavered. “are we about to…” do the devil’s tango? the pickle in the jar? the train into the tunnel!?

a gruff chuckle rumbled from his chest. “you were the one who initiated it,” wriothesley pointed out with a wolfish grin. “i’m just finishing what you started, mondstadter.”

“but i just wanted to help you with your… ‘problem’!” you shot back, cheeks rivaling the red of a tomato. “why am i suddenly on the receiving end!?”

“ah, that’s where you’re wrong, because this will help me with my problem,” the duke replied, tugging your pants down your hips to reveal your drenched undergarment. you instantly convulsed and buckled your knees as he pressed his thick fingers against your clothed pussy, and when he drew them back, a string of wetness extended from your underwear to his fingertips.

remember when wriothesley convinced himself that all he needed was self-love?

fuck that.

“your grace!” you cried out as he dove forward and, with his hands anchoring your thighs, began ravaging your clit through the fabric, his tongue swirling and swiping against it ruthlessly. you had not even a millisecond to breathe as your vision blurred from tears of unmitigated satisfaction. with little strength, you reached out to wrench at his dark locks of hair, which only spurred him on further to attack your quivering folds.

archons almighty, what would it feel like if he—

as if he was reading your mind, wriothesley peeled your panties to the side, and the roughness of his tongue along with his pointer finger sliding in sent your body into another realm of pleasure. if accidentally smacking the back of your head against the couch’s gilded crest rail wasn’t the reason you saw stars just now, then it undoubtedly had to be the duke’s skillful ministrations.

“you’re so responsive,” wriothesley murmured, his hot breath deliciously fanning your skin. you were going crazy from his nose nudging against your sensitive bud as he flattened his tongue to completely coat each and every taste bud with your essence, and his digit continued to slide in and out at an inhumane speed, coaxing more and more of your whines and moans. “fuck, and your slut pussy is taking my finger so well. how many people have gotten the chance to see this pretty view?”

pretty view? you mentally scoffed while struggling to keep your wits about. says him! not every day did a tall, dark, and handsome man lap at your arousal like it was his last meal! you questioned how he could even breathe down there.

“no, i… j-just… just you…” you managed between labored gulps of air, your cheeks flushed of color. “i… i’ve never… d-done this… before.”

in the midst of leaving a bite mark on the side of your thigh, wriothesley abruptly extricated his finger, which made your pulsating hole very unhappy. “are you saying this is your first time?” he asked in disbelief.

you nodded timidly. when he didn’t respond right away, you grew worried that he got turned off by your admission, but weirdly enough, he snickered.

“looks like we’re in the same boat,” wriothesley stated to your bafflement. having withdrawn his finger, he brought it to his mouth and sucked it clean of your fluids before returning to lightly thumb your clit using circular motions. you had to scoot away because how else were you going to speak clearly with him doing that!? 

“y-you’re a virgin!?” you spluttered, ogling down at this man like he had just grown a horn on top of his head. 

“way to rub it in,” he jeered at you in a mocking tone. “yes, i’m a virgin. what’s so surprising?”

“because… you’re you!” you stressed. “have you seen yourself in the mirror? it’s a crime for you to look like a sex god without having had sex!”

once again, wriothesley found himself enlivened by your visceral reactions. when an advisor informed him of a diplomat’s advent this week, the warden was ready to be bored to tears by another mundane businessperson. and could you blame him? a few weeks ago, an ambassador hailing from sumeru went on and on about an invention that they wanted to promote to the fortress of meropide’s inhabitants.

…that invention boasted a 41% success rate.

so imagine wriothesley’s gaping jaw when, the moment you bent your knees and voiced your offer, all of his expectations were chucked out of the window.

“‘crime’?” he echoed, followed by a husky chuckle. “i see what you did there. how does it feel to be in love with a criminal?”

a frown weighed down the corners of your lips. “hold on. i may or may not be succumbing to a criminal, but who’s saying i’m in love with one?”

“your body is telling me everything i need to know,” rizzley wriothesley crooned as he rested the side of his head against your thigh. “well, except for your name.”

“…reader,” you answered breathily. “my name is reader.”

“reader.” he nodded in approval. “well, reader, let me show you how we do it in fontaine.”

with newfound vigor, wriothesley mounted the couch so that he was now towering over you and interlocked his hands with yours, pressing them into the vermillion back cushions on either side of your head. as if he was communicating to you that you could no longer escape his advances, even if they became too much.

for some time, he gazed intensely at your blushing face, committing each detail to memory, before he bent down and connected his lips to yours. you tentatively reciprocated his tender kisses, moving your mouth in ways that were unfamiliar yet exhilarating, and shutting your eyes slipped the ground away from your feet and made you feel like you were floating. he let go of one hand to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, which grew into him absentmindedly caressing your cheek like you were made of glass. your neck tickled. your ear burned. every single touch felt like fire on your skin. every kiss was slowly melting your body into mush, melding your body with his. there was no longer a distinction between where you ended and where he began.

after you parted your lips to impart the permission wriothesley’s tongue frenziedly sought, it wasn’t long before the kiss spiraled into a battle for dominance—a battle you lost in the blink of an eye. you could taste remnants of yourself on his tongue from his previous indulgences, which successfully heightened how aroused you were tenfold. your free hand crept up and started kneading your breast through your blouse, your moans swallowed by wriothesley’s mouth.

when he noticed you began touching yourself, he pulled away to your dismay.

he really liked how you craned your neck toward him at the very end of the kiss when he disentangled from you, as though his and your pairs of lips were opposite ends of a magnet. he liked seeing you craving more.

he didn’t like that you were getting ahead of yourself.

“nuh-uh, love,” he whispered, pulling your wrist to the side. “that’s my job.”

wriothesley tugged the hem of your blouse up to expose your bra, and he whistled at the sight. “beige?” he just had to point out with a smirk, bearing a canine. “you really know how to rile me up.”

you internally facepalmed at morning you’s choice of wardrobe. “i was walking into this expecting to have a proper conversation, not to get laid.”

he cocked an eyebrow and suddenly went into business mode. “what was your proposition anyway?”

you couldn’t help but laugh out loud before grasping his large hand and placing it on your chest. “are we really about to do our meeting now?” you chided him.

“you and i are already ‘meeting’ in every sense of the word.”

an affectionate smile broke through your face, and you tugged the man forward by his red tie. “come here, you big hunk.”

wriothesley mirrored your warmth and captured your lips in a searing kiss before traveling down to pepper smooches on your neck and suckle along your collarbone, his teeth the paintbrush and your skin the canvas. he slithered his fingers into the confines of your bra and pinched your nipples to elicit more r-rated sounds from your mouth, and in the corner of your low-lidded eyes, you became very conscious of the reality that his dick would twitch every time you moaned.

anemo archon, forgive me for mine own sins.

“reader,” he gasped. he hunched forward and almost smothered you with his chest as you began to stroke his cock, a bolt out of the blue. you weren’t expecting him to display such a visceral reaction, so you halted at the base of his manhood (which your hand couldn’t even fully wrap around…)

“did i do something wrong?”

“no, not at all,” he affirmed strongly. “i think the problem…”

…was that the sensation of your touch felt astonishingly different to him greasing the pole. it was a shuddering ecstasy that sprinted along his body and unlocked the carnal desires he had kept stowed away.

the key to his dick heart was supposed to have been eternally lost at sea. that was something he was sure of. that was something every person who tried to get close to him was sure of. so he ignored sigewinne’s recommendations, he ignored the rumors of his impotence among the prisoners, and he tried to ignore the hot flashes that jolted him awake in the dead of night, reminding him again that he had always been devoid of love since the start.

but then you came prancing into his office, swinging that key around your finger.

wriothesley’s breathing became shallow, and he pressed his lips firmly into a thin, white line as he stared down at you. how were you shining so splendidly in contrast to the dull lights of his office? how did your frowning lips still look so kissable? how were you looking at him like you were seeing right through him?

he didn’t even know you.

was he deluding himself?

did sigewinne spike his tea?

should he keep going?

what if he hurt you?

a gentle tapping on his forearm hauled wriothesley out of his rumination. he realized he was sweating a lot.

“now i’m sure i did something wrong,” you said worriedly.

wriothesley swallowed harshly before shaking his head, his tufted black hair swaying from side to side. “no… the problem is that… i don’t think i can hold back.”

…

“then what are you waiting for?” you deadpanned. “are you into blue balling?”

wriothesley blinked. “uh, not necessarily…”

“then let’s do it on your table.”

…

“reader…” wriothesley covered his blushing face with the back of his hand. “has anyone told you how… forward you can be?”

a giggle bubbled from your throat. “i’m pretty sure my field requires me to be forward. is it a turn-off?”

“i couldn’t be happier,” he reassured you gladly, and you were soon swept up into another bridal carry. “i will warn you though. if you make a mess of my documents, there will be punishment.”

you smiled. “looking forward to it.” (hopefully, wriothesley didn’t notice he was already going to need new seat cushions after this.)

wriothesley set you down onto his hardwood table, your back toward him, and had you prop one leg up onto the edge, putting your pussy on full display for his enjoyment. he watched in a hypnotic trance as your fluids dripped like a leaking faucet, and he wanted nothing more than to plug you up and fill your needy cunt to the brim. the warden soaked his fingers in your juices to lather them over his shaft, but while he had one hand gripping your hip and the other lining his member up with your entrance, his muscles stiffened. you peeked at him from over your shoulder.

“blue balling bastard!” you almost shouted, but he appeared too distraught to be badgered.

“i don’t have a condom,” wriothesley moaned, falling forward and smacking his forehead against your shoulder. for the first time in a long time, he really wanted to cry. “i would have to walk over to the infirmary and grab one for us, but—”

“—i can’t wait much longer,” you two finished in tandem breathlessly, eyes fixed upon each other. in a matter of seconds, this became a pressing matter that left you and wriothesley in deep contemplation. two strangers—total virgins at that—were literally about to raw dog it. honestly, your parents would be bouncing off the walls over this since they always lamented their graying hairs yet shortage of grandchildren.

but wriothesley… you knew a man of his status was much too preoccupied with handling prison affairs as opposed to prison "affairs". although the iudex of fontaine would be anyone’s first thought at the word “justice”, the administrator of the fortress of meropide delivered his own fair share of justice to maintain order when fights broke out in corridors, to overlook the production of gardemeks, and to protect the peace he had fostered in this very structure.

these things were what made you hurriedly request an audience with wriothesley in the first place. his impressive accomplishments as the new leader of the stronghold were what brought the you from mondstadt to the him in fontaine. however, you now found yourself in a sticky situation that would burden wriothesley further if you two took this risk. a child between you and him… that hadn’t been in your agenda.

plus, the steambird would really get a hoot out of this. “breaking news: mondstadt ambassador walked into the fortress of meropide and walked out with a baby lump.”

so, you made up your mind.

“wrio—”

“will you let me come inside of you, reader?” he whispered against the shell of your ear, making your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. your vaginal walls automatically clenched around nothingness at the thought as you gasped and gaped back at him in bewilderment.

“what…? are you sure!?”

wriothesley nodded. “i-i promise, reader, to be a loving partner to you and devoted father to our child,” he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “i’ve dreamt of having kids with the person i cherish so that they can grow up in a household where they feel safe, but… my greatest fear in life is becoming the monster that… th-that my foster parents were to me and my adoptive siblings.” his face went white. he could feel himself on the verge of vomiting, which he swore he had rooted out long ago. the scars on his body had never felt more painful. “i know that that belief is unfounded, but… i’ve been a violent person since i was a teenager. since the day that i… i killed them.”

“so if you do not wish to bear a child with a person like me, i understand,” wriothesley avowed, his eyes turned down in shame. “i can find other means to make you feel good, and i’ll just… go to the restroom to finish my business.”

you were finally learning about the warden's haunting backstory, sealed behind his assertive exterior. immediately, tears sprung to the corners of your eyes. you twisted your torso to cup his face with shaking hands and look him square in the face.

“wriothesley… you are so much more than your past,” you insisted earnestly. “are you not aware of how incredible of a person you are? of how many lives you have changed for the better? you couldn’t change the past, so you made it your life mission to change the future of every person who’s living and breathing in this stronghold right now. you converted your suffering into something that led to the liberation of many others’.” you gave him a wobbly smile through the tears streaming down your cheeks like waterfalls. “that’s why i wanted to meet you, wrio. i wanted to meet the man behind the operations, behind the smiles on these prisoners’ faces. so please… don’t ever think badly of yourself.”

as the color returned to wriothesley’s cheeks, the duke couldn’t look away from the eyes that sparkled up at him so brilliantly. it was mesmerizing. his heart had never felt this full, and he wanted it to be as close to yours as possible. without missing a beat, his arms wrapped around your body, lightly brushing against your nipples in the process and causing them to harden on contact. he pressed his entire frontside against your back, and you could clearly feel his heart pounding wildly against his ribcage (and his dick saying hi from between your thighs).

“you’re so good to me, reader,” wriothesley mumbled. “what did i do to deserve this?”

you laughed and caressed the side of his head. “i just told you, idiot.”

his signature smirk returned in all of its glory, and he trailed his hands down to rest on your hips. “hold onto something.”

“what? agh!”

your body lurched forward once wriothesley drove his cock into your sopping heat, every inch dragging along your walls until he reached your cervix and his pelvic bone was right against your ass. a guttural moan escaped as he remained perfectly motionless, reveling in the feeling of your pussy rippling along his length, and you clamped a hand over your mouth to mask the embarrassing noises seeping through. the pain was unexpectedly minimal, but now you had to deal with this enormous object penetrating you to your very core. and not a moment passed before he started pushing in and out of you, squelching noises rebounding off the metal surroundings as your bated breath was yanked from your throat. throughout wriothesley’s grunts of exertion, a moan poured past your lips at each thrust, his balls slapping against your puffy lips and the table legs screeching in reply. his hands slid up to mercilessly flick your nipples with his thumbs at a rate that engendered tightening sensations to build up inside of your lower abdomen.

“wrio!” you exclaimed, writhing in ecstasy. you didn’t think you could handle the pert beads on your chest being fondled in unison with him pistoning your cunt from the back for another minute. “wr-wrio…! hnngh… ah! i feel so w-weird… ah! nngh…!”

“it’s a good weird, yeah?” growled wriothesley amid nibbling on your earlobe. “i can tell by the way your womb is descending to meet my cock, just begging for my seed. and that’s exactly what i’ll give you.”

“nngh, i… i’m… a-agh!” you pathetically blubbered. a stream of saliva ran from the corner of your lips as he pounded into your tight channel with savage intensity, the whites of your glazed eyes beginning to show. “i-i think i’m gonna c-come…!” 

“shit…” he rasped, noticing the telltale signs of an orgasm building up in both of you. “me, too…” he roughly grabbed your chin, fingers digging slightly into flesh, so that he could witness your expression contorting with bliss as you reached your cusp. “i want you to take every drop of my cum, reader. every fucking drop until nothing but my essence flows from your depraved hole.”

you nodded and pursed your lips, overwhelmed by the persistent and passionate onslaught on your pussy that was utterly molded into the shape of his velvet-wrapped steel. “yes, p-please…! wrio, please shoot it inside of me!”

finally, wriothesley bit down on your shoulder and slammed home into your depths, burying himself inside of your womanhood while releasing thick ropes of semen. your muscles convulsed and clamped down onto his cock with a vice, milking it until he had emptied his balls completely. the light humming of the industrial fan above commingled with the heavy panting of the two bodies that have become one, drunk on the languid atmosphere.

“you’re so obedient,” he cooed, nudging aside a lock of hair that was clinging to your sweaty forehead, whereas you were still reeling from wave after wave of endorphins. as you endeavored to muster the strength to respond, wriothesley glanced down at his files freshly marinating in your juices. “well, for the most part,” he added. “what did i say about my documents?”

“i…” you scowled and snapped back at him haughtily, “i wasn’t trying to ruin them!”

his mellow chuckle resonated in your ears, and in the ensuing seconds, the sound of clinking metal pivoted your attention.

“well, you can’t argue that they’re illegible now,” he said, effortlessly restraining your wrists in handcuffs from archons knew where. you also came to the startling realization that his member hadn’t softened one bit since he came within your spongy walls. “and as the duke of the fortress of meropide, i must carry out punishment where i see fit.”

“…lord barbatos.”

“haha, i love you, too.”

(several days later, charlotte got her big paycheck after spotting another “meeting” between you and wriothesley behind café lutece.)

© xinxiaogato. please do not translate my work without permission or attempt to plagiarize it.