#Master Please Take Care of Yourself

[laniidae-passerine]

decided that in my own personal canon, Santiago’s maker looked similar to Louis, simply because Ben Daniels stated that Santiago was very likely in love with his maker. and wouldn’t it be some kind of torture to fall in love with the man who murdered your first vampiric love? to then watch him fall in love with another, who bears an eerie resemblance to that first love? to be witness to something tender and affectionate blooming, every moment a memory of how none of those you’ve adored have ever wanted you back? it would be agony. it would be torture. god, you would just hate them to pieces, loathing even as you loved them. and you wouldn’t know peace - not until the whole pack of them learnt the horror of love, just as you have.

[hoshigray]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ Do Your Job, Pretty Maid~! ꒱ ˎˊ˗ | jjk men

୨୧ choso, kento, satoru, suguru, sukuna & toji × how their sweet maid takes care of them...or tries to.

contents: JJK men x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference (true form! kuna) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - masturbation - threesome - protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - sir/Master kink - sex toys - impact play (spanking) - degradation + humiliation - clitoral play - overstimulation - more stuff specified in their respective perspectives - satoru + suguru's parts are combined.

word count: 5.2k

a. note: going on another trip for two weeks, so here's a lil present while I'm m.i.a :3

₊˚⊹♡ Kamo Chōsō ⋮ oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking + sucking) - pussy-drunk! choso - sqůirtǐng - pet names (baby, cutie, sweetie).

“Choso, please—Mmm…! We mustn’t…”

“Shhh, not so loud, sweetie…”

You cover your quivering mouth with your hands, eyebrows kneading together with toes curled inside your loafers, and thoughts running rampant at the sight of your master’s head buried within your skirt.

You were supposed to be dressing your master for an event that he’s supposed to attend, and you were almost done making him presentable for the occasion, combing his silky brown hair–usually kept in pigtails–down to his nape and spraying him with his cologne before buttoning his white loose long-sleeve. 

However, he stopped your hands at the third button, the pale skin of his pectorals present to your eyes. Swiftly, you avert your gaze to his to see what’s wrong, only to yelp when he slumps to his knees and pulls you to him by your lower half, his face nestled to the groin of your skirt. 

Of course, you tried to pull him off. “Master Choso, this is not the time!” You lecture him, trying to yank him off without messing up the hair you put so much work into making it nice and tidy! But his arms wrap around your legs tightly, pulling you in further.

“No, I can’t,” you can see the hint of pink enflaming the helixes of his ears. “I need this…need you,” his face is pushed deeper into the crevice of your thighs, the material of your apron and skirt not a bother being an obstacle. “You smell so good…”

“Choso, please, you mustn’t,” your eyes dart to the door to make sure it’s closed – thank God! “You have to get ready for the—“ Your breath hitches when a pair of caramel eyes peer in your direction, half-lidded with intentions that are NOT suitable for this time and place.

“Please, baby,” Oh God, that fucking name he calls you. You chew your lips to repress a whimper. “Just for a few minutes, okay?”

You can only take his words for what they are — an unguaranteed promise to cling to while you sit on Choso’s armchair, mewls escaping past your lips as your master ravishes you inside your skirt. 

Choso’s soft lips kiss your wet folds, a shiver rattling your spine as you struggle to compose yourself. Your legs writhe and squirm, his slender hands playing with the garters of your undergarments and grasping the flesh of your thighs. His tongue nestles in between your inner labia, swooshing and slurping whatever his tastebuds can gather. And the groans he makes as he feasts on you are utterly dumbfounding — staggering your senses as his delightful voice travels through the walls of your insides. 

Fingers scrape the arms of the chair, and your mouth falls to an ‘o’ shape, yet nothing comes out besides silent wails. His tongue flicks around your clitoris feverishly before sucking on it, and your thighs fight to jerk and clamp his head in. The noises of his feasting get louder and louder, the heat on your face picking up with every lap from the flat of his wet muscle. 

“Master Choso…!” The named brunet pushes his tongue into your entrance, and you shrill with feet lifted from the floor. “Nnnm! Not too…fast!”

“Gonna cum, sweetie?” He coos while lathering your cunt with his saliva. “Gonna be good and cum on my tongue, right?” 

“Hmmnn, no, not now!” You shake your head — not like he could see it from the barrier of your skirt. “We can’t! You have to be out there…people are waiti—Nnng!”

“I know, baby, I know,” another suck to your clit has your hands grab for the top of his head. “But cum for me this one time, ‘kay? Just one time…”

You couldn’t retort back as he pushed his tongue back inside, fucking you with the muscle to the point of balled fists. Losing balance, you slump on the chair and submit to the pleasure between your legs. Choso holds your legs by the back of your knees, pushing his face further to guzzle and play with your chasm easily. Ohhhh, shiiiit…!

“Ch-Choso, wait a minute!” You lift your skirt to stop the master, but the image of him eating you out did more bad than good. His jaw is wet from being latched to your soapy cunt, and his nose bumping to your clit forces you to twitch. “Wait, stop iiiit…!!” But it’s too late; your muscles contract more frequently than not and then begin to loosen once you hit your peak.

Your eyelids go shut, and you howl as your vagina flutters on Choso’s tongue while your urethra releases a watery substance that sprays around the vicinity of your skirt. Choso gets the better end; the clear liquid hits his face and sprinkles around your thighs and clothes. But that doesn’t stop him from sucking your essence, coating your vaginal walls and his tongue. He moans with you, your trembling figure bucking subtly while he gulps your high.

Mind is wholly fogged, yet your duties and responsibilities remain present, which is why you’re ashamed to see that the master is drenched from your arousal after you’ve put so much effort into making him look dapper — especially his hair, now it’s all messy and a bit wet! “Master, I told you to–ahhh–wait!”

Choso lifts his face and rests your legs on his shoulders, licking his lip and wiping his cheek with his sleeve — not the shirt, too! “Sorry, but you just tasted too good, cutie.”

You groan with a heavy sigh. “…Well, now I must grab a different shirt and fix your hair again. Hope you’re satisfied with yourself.”

“Guilty,” He doesn’t bother hiding the small, charming, cheeky smile; it almost made you forgive him for this endeavor.

₊˚⊹♡ Nanami Kento ⋮ sex toy; vibrator - oral (m! receiving) - masturbation - clitoral play - pet names (baby, love, sweetpea) - cameo: Shoko (phone call).

“…And that’s the report Ijichi handed regarding the last mission.”

“Good. What about from Gojo-san’s part?”

“Hmm, well, he hasn’t been…”

Was Nanami listening to the words Shoko was retelling? Sure. However, that wasn’t where his entire focus was. But then again, he has to ensure your voice isn’t picked up by his phone. After all, he’s sure you wouldn’t want his peer to know you were in the same room as him…thrusting a vibrator into your chasm while sitting on his desk.

You, his maid, came into his office to give him his typical afternoon tea, sprinkling the tea cup with warm water to exfoliate the earl grey and cream aroma. Nanami was busy on a call with Shoko, the doctor, who gave him updates on the missions that had occurred this week. A serious matter that required his attention, of course…well, most of it at least.

His eyes peer at you as you insert two sugar cubes into the tea cup and swirl them around with the spoon, noticing how eerily silent you are. How your fingers lightly tapped on the desk surface, and your lips shook slightly. And he knows why you hadn’t said a word; sure, he was on a call, but that’s not the half of it. The button he presses on the remote stuffed inside his pocket was, though, and your hand on the desk balls into a quick fist.

Now, you look to him, shaken by what he did. Trembly lips open to say, “Master…don’t do that…” 

The blonde man lifts his brows, ears deaf to what Shoko’s saying, and presses the button again. This time, your hands rush to your lips to suppress a yelp. Your thighs come together to rub against each other, a gesture that pulls a smile on Nanami’s face.

“…But that’s just typical Gojo fashion, ya know?”

“Honestly, I can’t agree more.” He says aimlessly, too observant with you in his view. “Hold on a second, Ierie-san.” He presses the mute button and crosses his arms. “What’s the matter, sweetpea?”

Knowing that you can finally speak, you whine freely while running to his chest for him to catch you. “Master, pleaseee…!” God, you can’t stop rubbing your thighs!

“What is it, love?” He brings your chin up. Good Lord, you looked so cute and desperate. “Tell me.”

“Please, can I take this off!?” You lift your skirt, and low and behold, your panties are out for display. However, the white wire from your undergarments connected to the clip-on on your garters catches the man’s eyes. “It’s too much…and I can’t work with it!”

He smirks at your complaint and rubs your cheeks. “Sit,” he points to the desk for you to sit on, and you hesitantly follow his orders. Nanami takes the mute off the call. “Sorry, Shoko, something came up on my end, and I gotta take care of it. See you tomorrow?”

“No problem, Kento. Talk to you later.”

Now, with his friend out the way, you can finally have his whole mindfulness. As you spread your legs for him, the man runs a hand through his golden locks. “Show me what’s going on, baby.”

You waste no time in taking your underwear off with your master’s assistance, rolling up to your leg. Without the cotton barrier, your lower regions show the wire stuffed inside your wet cunt. His thumbs come to spread your folds to inspect further. “Damn, you’re so wet for me.” 

Your breath hitches as Nanami swipes his fingers around your vulva, coating his digits with your wetness as your nerves are at their peak. “Master Kento, please…remove iiit…!”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he says with a chuckle, pulling on the wire string ever-so-slowly. You lay on your back as the thing connected to the wire stretches your entrance, peaking out of your hole thanks to the leisure force. Biting back a moan, Nanami pulls out the soft pink bullet vibrator crammed inside your swollen chasm and leaves you breathless for a second, gripping your skirt as your legs shudder. “Look at you, so beautiful.”

“Kentoo…” your hand wraps on his, gripping your thighs. “So good…”

“Yeah, feel good?” He blows on you. “Wanted me to take care of you like always?” You nod hurriedly to his amusement, and he licks your labia for you to wail. “Mmmm, my sweetpea…” Your legs have a mind of their own as Nanami licks your aching folds, bucking lightly to the point of you essentially riding his tongue—the blonde smothers your vulva with slobber, covering your private with him and your juices. 

A free hand finds his hair to grab as you throw your head back and sigh heavily, sinking into the feeling of being eaten out by your superior. It feels way too good; after half an hour of having the vibrator stuck inside your slit, you’ve been walking around feeling nothing but sensitive to do even the most basic tasks. But now that Nanami is taking you out of your sole misery and fucks you orally, you can finally relax and experience the euphoria you’ve been yearning for.

…At least until his phone rings again, causing the man to lift his head from your legs to your dismay: another business call, this time with the boss, Yaga. Nanami’s mocha eyes dart to you, and he coos to your disheveled self. “Sorry, love, gotta take this.”

“B-But…!”

“In the meantime,” he hands you the vibrator. “Give me a show.”

You take the toy silently, begrudging, trailing it back down to your cunt for you to thrust in and out of your venture. And the moans you let out are divine to Nanami as he presses the green call button.

“Yes?… Yeah, I’m alone.”

₊˚⊹♡ Gojō Satoru & Suguru Getō ⋮ threesome - oral (m! receiving) - clitoral play (grinding + pinching) - missionary position - protected sex - pet names (baby, cutie, pumpkin, sweetie).

KNOCK–KNOCK!!

“Yo, Suguru, are you in her—WOAH!?”

“Uuugh, fuck, are you serious, Satoru? Can’t wait for me to tell you to come in?”

Oh, this had to be the worst day of your occupation life!

You weren’t supposed to be here; you were meant to be with the other maids around the fortress who needed a helping hand setting up guest rooms or preparing the feast for tonight. Today was big: your master’s best friend was coming over for the weekend. All hands on deck are necessary to make sure his attendance is welcome. Nevertheless, you end up trailing out of your tracks because your master, Getō Suguru, pulls you into his room without anyone noticing a thing. 

The action left you bewildered, especially when he greets you by smashing his lips onto yours, exchanging murmurs and soft moans with each other while his hands grope and fondle whatever part of your body can reach. Of course, you try to retaliate, telling the tall, young man that he’s a terrible host for his friend and should be out there with him! But that doesn’t sway him at all, throwing you onto his bed and unbuckling his pants with a bitten lip. “He can wait,” he says in a sing-song tune, childishly pushing off his responsibilities. “But I can’t,” he crawls on top and kisses you passionately. “Wanna play with you a little more, ‘kay, sweetie?”

And who are you to refuse his request? You submit to him and let him spread your legs…What you did NOT expect, however, as you both seemed to forget to lock the door! And it’s worse, Geto’s best friend, Gojō Satoru, is the one to catch you both in the act. Are you fucking serious?!?

Gojo closes – and locks – the door for your sake. “Well, you can’t say I didn’t knock, right?” The taller man waltzes in as if he owns the place. You, under Geto’s bow, who is shirtless and whose cock is plugged inside your chasm, hide your face away from this mortifying experience. “Plus, what kind of host are you? Leaving me out there to wait for you for fifteen minutes.” Geto rolls his eyes as the white-haired man sits on the bed. “Now, who is this taking up all your attention?”

You don’t say a single word, concealing your shamed face behind your palms. God, just kill me!

“This is the new maid I told you about,” Geto admits with a grin, kissing your ankle. “They’re a pretty little thing…Hey, baby, don’t hide when introducing yourself.” The raven-haired man removes your hands from your face to your sorrow; pairs of blue and violet eyes survey you intimately. 

Gojo coos, coming to your side. “Oh~, this is the new cute maid?” You don’t know if you like the way his gaze travels around your body, nor the way your vagina squeezes onto Geto’s girth as his friend rubs circles on your tummy. “What happened to your shirt?”

“This cutie went ahead and squirted on me,” you gawk at his blunt explanation; was there no other way to phrase that, you dummy!? “That’s why they’re a lil’ sensitive right now.”

His best friend piqued Gojo’s interest, “Is that so?” The hand on your stomach slithers down to your clitoris to grind on, and you jolt haphazardly. “Awww, you like that, princess?” Now it’s his turn to smirk mischievously. “Must be nice being used by your master, huh? And with an audience, too!” 

“N-Noo!” You gasp from a pinch to your clit. “Master Gojo, please look awa—Aiiissh!!”

“Ehhh, and miss this view?” Gojo feverishly swipes on your clitoris while pressing his forehead against yours. “I’ve been dying to meet this new, cute maid that Suguru can’t keep his eyes off. Now, I see what’s got him all hot and steamy.”

“Ahhhh, shiiit, keep getting tight…!” Geto curses under his breath, snapping his hips to your tight slit. “Hmmm, I think they’re starting to like ya, too, Satoru.”

“Really? Aren’t you just adorable,” the snow-headed man claims your lips with his, shoving his tongue inside your mouth to drown. You whimper as he sucks on yours, toes curling as he cups and gropes your chest. “Fuck, so sweet…Hold on, lemme have a turn.” 

Geto clicks his teeth. “You can wait, fucker. I’m trying to finish here.”

Gojo rolls his eyes yet straightens up to unzip his pants. “Fine then…Hey, pumpkin, can you suck me off a bit?” The taller man whips out his erection from the slide of his pants and boxers, and your mind nearly goes to a halt at the sight of the curved limb.

“Go on, don’t wanna leave our guest waiting, right?” Geto does nothing to make this situation any easier to go through, rutting his pelvis into you frantically to chase his orgasm. You are left with no choice and open your mouth with a loose jaw, and Gojo takes the initiative to insert his cock inside. “That’s my baby…Hnngh!”

Gojo fucks your face with a slow start before his flow follows with his dark-headed companion. The curve of his dick fills your mouth so much that your head gets fuzzier as he keeps thrusting into your lips. “Shiit, that feels good,” he murmurs above you, cradling your head gently as he stuffs your lips with himself.

The commotion on both ends of your body only furthers the headache forming and the heat from below flourishing all around. Still sensitive to your own high, your brain turns into mush, and you’re numb to the stimulation between your legs. Jesus, this was too much to keep up with; closing your eyes to help yourself succumb to the use of your body and allow the pleasure to course through. 

Geto watches from above and loves every second of it. The picture of you taking in his best friend’s cock while he fucks you good and deep is so good. Your mewls are muffled because of the length between your lips, yet music to the men’s ears. “Fuuuck, I’m going to…Oh shiiiit…!” Your master can’t stop hammering his erect limb into you, flexing his abs erratically until he nearly gives way to his knees and busts into the rubber shielding his load. His frame shivers with every jerk, making sure every bit of his come is excruciated out of him.

Gojo takes it all in with a whistle. “Ahhhh, damn, that looks hot as hell.”

“Mmmph, you…have no idea,”  The other man sniggers with a shaken head, sluggishly taking out his dick with the condom filled with his semen. After he takes it out and wraps the rubber, he throws a wrapped one to the snow-headed other. “Alright, time to switch.” The tall men share a look and switch places, Gojo now taking his place between your legs while Geto taps your lips with his girth until you suck him in. 

If only the bed could swallow you away from this bizarre scenario!

₊˚⊹♡ Ryōmen Sukuna ⋮ impact play (spanking) - [anal] fingering (f! receiving) - humiliation + degradation - Master kink - pet names (little dove) - mention of drool and tears.

“—Khhhh!! Ahhhh!! Owwww!!”

“Yeah, that’s right, cry for me, bitch.”

It’s not unusual for a handmaiden to be reprimanded for bad behavior or not adequately doing their tasks. However, if you’re serving the King of Curses, Lord Ryōmen Sukuna, those corrections are likely to happen more often than not. 

Imagine it: you’re bent over Sukuna’s massive legs, thighs so big and strong that you’re purchased with security if the firm hand gripping your wrists together wasn’t enough. Your skirt propped up, and your panties slid down to your knees, exposing your bare ass to the cool air of his chambers. However, that is swiftly transitioned to piercing heat and pain in seconds.

A hand comes striking down to your asscheeks — that had to be the twelfth time within these exact two minutes. The skin of your butt is nothing but hot; the man can feel it as he hovers the hand above them, making you shiver. Unpleasant tingling sensations course through the flesh, worsening with every new hit. And your throat is getting dry by how much you’ve been screaming. There is no way the other workers of this fortress haven’t heard your cries by now; you’re sure to be scrutinized by Uraume later today. Unbelievable…

Another smack to your butt pulls a yelp from your system, your body instinctively jolting from another rush of pain! Damn the huge lower left hand holding your wrists together. “—Hahh! Lord Sukuna, please! I beg you, please forgi—Iiiee!!”

“That’s all you’re good at, huh?” A dark chortle adds weight to your ongoing suffering. “Just begging and crying after I caught you being the little slut you are.”

Fuck, this couldn’t get any more humiliating enough. “My Lord, I’m so sorry for—Ahhckk!!” Another slap to your ass; this time, his nails dig into your flesh to extend your pathetic howl. And the thick digits of his lower right hand vigorously wiggle inside your vagina. You know your ass is going to be sore after this…

“Sorry for what: being a dumb clutz for knocking into things and breaking glasses left and right?” He bends to your ear to speak, and your inner walls squeeze his fingers helplessly. “Or going inside my room and touching things without permission?”

“I apologize for overstepping—Mmmph?!” 

“Goddamn, so fucking loud, you fucking pig.” Sukuna stuffs two fingers of his upper right hand into your mouth, lips involuntarily sucking onto them. Now, he lets your wrists go to watch them grab hold of his pants; the sight of your nails scratching onto them like reins strokes his ego. Nothing makes him gloried than seeing a little thing like you break bit by bit in his presence.

Your whines are muffled; the only time an attempt to keep you quiet was made. Cruel of him to do as his fingers relentlessly rub your texture, and he inserts his thumb into your asshole to enfold the same pleasurable torture. 

“Tell me, little dove, what excited you more: silently masturbating while sniffing my clothes on my bed,” tears form in your eyes from a harsh smack to your ass. “Or me catching you in the act? Because you didn’t seem to stop once you saw me.”

Please don’t talk about it! You can only complain within your thoughts, forced to listen to your misbehavior as a maid. And it’s torturous enough that your holes are clamping onto his fingers like crazy, eyes rolling to your skull from the scrape of your upper wall and the push and pull in your rear end. 

“Go ahead, you dirty whore.” The emphasis on the last word makes you twitch. “Admit how big of a slut you are in front of your Master, how you’re good for nothing than to act like a bitch in heat.” A soft ‘pop’ leaves your lips as he removes his fingers. “Go on.”

“—Nndaahh! I’m so sorry, Master, I’m so—Ohhhh!!” Sukuna’s fingers in your chasm curl, his fingertips scratching your insides mercilessly. 

“I didn’t say ask for forgiveness,” He scoffs.

It’s no use; the more you try to delay this, the dizzier you get. “… You’re right, master! I-I’m nothing but a sorry excuse of a maid who’s only—fuuuck!–only g-good at breaking things and not following orders!”

“And?” You can only imagine the most patronizing look he’s giving you. 

“A-And…acting like a total slut that likes to be—Mmmm!!” Sukuna rubs your hot, stinging butt, removing his thumb to switch with another pair of fingers to tease your anus. “L-Likes to be used like a fucktoy by Master…!”

He purrs at your confession. “There you go; wasn’t that hard being honest, right?” The fingers in your ass and cunt go erratic, your shrieks returning to bounce off the walls. “Exactly that, a worthless maid who thinks about nothing but their whorish self. Not even bothering hiding how much you’re enjoying this…”

You wish he were lying; however, he was right on the mark. You’re nothing but a good-for-nothing maid who’s getting off to being reprimanded by your own master. And the fact that you cry out to your lower half spasms to his touches and concede to your orgasm doesn’t help your case. “Taahhh, ahaahhnn, ohhhshit, so good…!”

Your entire frame quivers on him, crying out loud as your crescendo shakes your whole being to your very core. Drool has long escaped your mouth, tears streaming down your face, and your hands gripping his pants. Jesus Christ, this felt way too good! 

Sukuna clicks his teeth and pushes you off of his legs, your limp and dazed figure falling to the floor with no grace. “Tch, unbelievable. You really got a good high out of that, huh?” He looks to his lower left hand, which is smothered with your fluids.

“Haaahh, forgive me, Master…” Your throat is too weak and dry to utter sentences. But that doesn’t matter since Sukuna drags you back up to your knees by the scruff of your neck. Your eyes watch him unzip his pants and widen at the picture of his cocks springing out of his underwear.

“Quit speaking nonsense and do your job, you whore of a maid.”

₊˚⊹♡ Fushiguro Tōji ⋮ oral (m! receiving) - face+ throat-fucking - sir kink - musturbation (f! receiving) - facials - pet names (baby, doll[face], sweetheart).

“Hnnmm…ahhh shit, yeah, just like that.”

You chew your lips and swallow thickly. “Are you sure about this, Master?”

Forest green eyes peer down and pair with a crude grin. “Never said otherwise, baby. So keep goin’, yeah?”

“Yes…sir.” Your cheeks heat up, and your hands continue to stroke the erect shaft in your grasp.

A nice shower before heading for bed always hits the spot; nothing more rewarding than that after a day of going through hell and back. However, in Toji’s case, he loves them a lot more when you’re taking care of him and scrubbing his body clean of the stress and grit that taxed him during the day. 

And that means scrubbing all of him.

You were on your knees on the tiled bathroom floor while Toji sat on the rim of the bathtub, situated between his damp legs as his body was wet from the hot steaming water of the tub. Supposedly, you were meant to take care of his laundry while he was showering and bathing. However, at the moment, your hands were grasping onto his erection, coated in soap, smearing it onto every dent and crevice of his groin.

You can’t tell what’s making your head fuzzy: the warmth within this bathroom or watching the tip of Toji’s dick being sheathed in and out of his foreskin as you jerk him off. What you do know is that the latter was too irresistible to marvel at, causing your stomach to do knots and the heat between your legs to twitch your insides. How embarrassing to be aroused by such a situation in front of your superior of all people! 

And the worst part is the tiny glimpses you catch of your master panting and moaning because of your touch. His deep voice produces the most salacious noises as your fingers scrape around the glans to clean — you’ve been chewing on your lip nonstop because of them. The way you knead his balls with care has him hiss, and you nearly jump when he places his wet hand on your clothed shoulder.

Toji chuckles lowly, “Fuck, doin’ so good, doll.” He groans when you pour water onto his cock, cleansing the limb entirely with another dose. “Mmmm, feels good.” 

His praise comments make you bite your cheek. “I’m glad you’re pleased, Master. You’re all clean.”

An onyx brow is lifted. “I don’t think I’m all clean yet.” Your look of confusion humors him, even after he grabs ahold of his length to tap the tip with your mouth, and your eyes widen. “Still haven’t felt that mouth of y’rs, hon.” Your mouth opens to reject, but another tap to your lips halts you from saying any words. “C’mon, sweetheart; no one’s ‘round to stop you. Plus, you know how I like bein’ sucked off.”

He doesn’t leave you any room to argue your way out of this, not to mention how close his dick is to your face. “…Yes, sir.” No words are said after that as you begin to lend him your service, coating your tongue with spit to drizzle from the top to watch it slide down his shaft. All for you to swirl around the cockhead before loosening your jaw and intaking his tip with a hum. And the older man coos with a head back, “Good girl…Mmmm…”

You bob your head steadily, taking him inch by inch until he hits the back of your throat. While one hand massages his balls and the other strokes him, you suck and dirty his limb with your saliva. Ironic, isn’t it: doing as your master commands in making his cock “clean” by giving him a fellatio in the bathroom? The way you mewl as the underside of his cock brushes the flat of your tongue is crazy, and you can feel the squeeze of your vulva worsening as time goes on.

Your hips sway on their own the more you suck on Toji, getting more light-headed from sensing his cock pulsate inside your oral cavity. And he chortles again, “Heh, enjoyin’ y’rself?” You moan as he bends down to grope your ass above your skirt, certainly aware that you’re getting more aroused.  “What’re ya gonna do ‘bout that?”

The tip of his cock is released with the ‘pop’ of your lips, and your eyes lidded with bashful want. “Sir, may I please…finger myself?” Holy hell, your heart was pounding like crazy, even with how his spring-green eyes pierced through you. 

You gasp lightly when he grabs your hand and licks your fore and middle fingers, covering them thoroughly with his slobber. “Go on,” he sucks on your digits before spitting them out. “Go wild, baby.” You nod before slurping his cock back into your mouth while your damp fingers venture down to your skirt and push your panties aside to insert them inside your vagina. Your whimpers are too cute to ignore, and Toji finally stands up to change the pace.

While your fingers curl and scratch the heat of your inner walls, Toji grabs for your head to fuck your face, the cadence growing more than mediocre. This time around, he’s busying your throat and face so much with the push of his pelvis that you can’t think straight. The sound of his balls hitting your chin is all you can hear, and your spit pooling around the ring of your lips is too raunchy to comprehend. 

“Haaahhh, shit,” he curses from above, snapping his hips to go deeper into your mouth. “Shit, use that tongue, use—Mmmph…! Fuuuck, yeah, just like that.”

The praises fuel the rhythm of your fingers to go faster, rubbing on your texture as much as you can and your clit grinding against the bottom of your palm. Yet, it seems you can’t fully get off, though. Because of how full your mouth was with how fast Toji was slamming his cock inside your mouth, all you can think about is his length buried inside your vagina and reaching deep to kiss your cervix. Just thinking about it causes you to grip your fingers tighter.

“Ahhh, damnit, right there…!” The raven-headed man grits his teeth with the flex of his abdomen tightening, and his ruts increase. And before you know it, Toji rips his member out of your lips and fists his shaft until his load is expelled. White substance showers onto your face, landing on your nose and cheek, and bits drip down to stain your shirt. You gasp aloud before taking his tip to suck on again, stroking his pulsing dick until his hips stop bucking.

“Guess you’re all dirty, too, huh.” He sniggers and massages your cheeks. “But we got all night to clean ya up real good. Right, dollface?”

A soft noise leaves as you withdraw from his cock and place chaste kisses. “Yes, sirrr…”

“Good girl. Now, take off that skirt of y’rs.”

© HOSHIGRAY2024 ✮ reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ header art by hyocorou + dividers by @cafekitsune.

[pepperyduck]

this is love ft. kento nanami

a/n: a few sappy slices of life with my main man :3 enjoy as i dig up motivation to finish kinktober. 18+ mdni!

"honey?" kento's voice is muffled through the door as he calls out to you, "everything okay?" the door rattles as he tries to open it, knob jingling.

"uhm, yeah! everything's fine!" you nervously shout, much too loud, and rush to unplug the iron that had melted your husband's favorite shirt. you panic and yelp when the hot iron scorches the side on your hand, throwing the stupid device to the ground in a clatter.

"why is the door locked—are you okay?" he asks, voice becoming more concerned as he hears the movement inside.

"i'm—i'm fine! promise! just give me a minute!" you're rushing into your shared master bathroom to run cold water over your hand, and kento’s using a screwdriver pulled from thin air to break into your bedroom. tears well in your eyes when you catch the sight of kento seeing his favorite shirt burnt and melted to his own ironing board. "i’m so sorry…"

in reality, he doesn’t care about the shirt—he’s already at your side to inspect your burnt hand. after a few seconds, he speaks.

"did you try to iron my shirt for me?" nanami asks, a small smile on his face, "you didn’t have to do that." he turns off the faucet and takes a small towel to dry your hand off.

"i tried to, i’m sorry—i didn’t know it would do that." you apologize, looking down at the cold tile flooring in defeat.

"oh, honey." he coos, "it’s only a shirt."

"have you seen your father?" you ask your son, yū, who’s sat at the dining table, eating breakfast. he shakes his head no, and when you look at your daughter, mayu, she does the same.

"jeez," you grumble to yourself, bedroom slippers pattering down the hallway as you go to search for your husband. saturday mornings were his time to sleep in, but realistically, he never slept past 9am. and currently, it was nearing 10am.

you check everywhere. he isn’t found in the bedroom, living room, his office, the garage, the patio or in the little garden he kept. upstairs, downstairs, everywhere, he isn’t there. and when you check in your bedroom for the last time, you hear a soft buzzing coming from the bathroom. upon entering, you see your husband bent over the counter, leaning close in the mirror as he shaves his stubble with an electric razor.

"there you are—when did you get that?"

kento had always been a clean shaven kind of man, going to a barber shop once every two weeks for his straight razor shave. it hadn’t even crossed your mind he didn’t go after work yesterday.

but when he looks at you—you burst out laughing. he’d shaven most of his beard off, but a few fuzzy patches remained on his cheeks, along with a mustache grazing his upper lip. peach fuzz and a few knicks litter his chin. this was the first time you’d seen him unable to do anything perfectly. and he looks ridiculous.

"is it really that bad?" he groans, pouting when you wrap your arms around yourself in a giggling fit. you shake your head, although your unforgiving laughs are a testament to the opposite.

"no—no, let me help," you say after calming down.

after gathering a new razor and some shaving cream, you sit atop the counter and your husband stands between your legs. kento is surprised how flawlessly you shave his face, without creating any more marks or cuts. you giggle and kiss him, getting some shaving cream on your face.

"ken?" you shout from the kitchen, where you’re sat, working on your dissertation. it’s been a long road of blood, sweat, and many, many tears; but you’re finally getting towards the end. about to earn a doctorate.

"yes, darling?" kento replies, walking into the kitchen on queue, his timing impeccable.

"can you read over this paragraph, please?" you kindly ask of him, pointing to your most recent written paragraph. he leans over you, planting one firm palm on the table, the other on your back; his eyes read along the sentences and his fingers tap along your spine.

"ah," his finger becomes more focused on a certain word, "wrong 'there', honey."

"no it's not..." you instantly retort, squinting your tired eyes to read over your writing. and you're right, it was the correct one the first time. this was his version of teasing you. but kento couldn't keep up the face much longer before he's giving in with a shit-eating grin you didn't see that often. "you're funny." you groan as kento stands back up.

after reading over the paragraph for about the nineteenth time, you notice kento silently slipping you some tea before turning back around to keep himself busy with cleaning. you absentmindedly take a few sips, then some more...and you find yourself becoming more and more sleepy...

and you're out like a light, forehead pressed directly against the table as a puddle of drool forms on the papers below. kento already has a warm blanket straight from the dryer to drape over you, and you stir just enough to get comfy on your arms.

kento knows that his back will hurt in the morning, but he sits around the corner of the table next to you, settling his head into his arms to drift off to sleep alongside you.

music of your taste plays rather quietly in the kitchen. you stir the pot of soup and inhale the flavorful aroma that wafts through the air.

kento sets two bowls next to the stove, then rummages through your silverware drawer to find two spoons. the kids are at their grandparents for the weekend, it's only you and your husband, converted into the duo you were long ago.

you step away from the stove to go fill up two glasses of wine, the brand kento had as his favorite had slowly turned into your favorite over time, too.

kento fills up the two bowls to the brim of the delicious food, grinning on the inside at the simplicity of it all. just you and him. he lids the pot with the matching glass top and makes his way over to the table.

you set out place mats for the both of you, then place the wine glasses in their prospective areas. kento places the bowls on top of the mats as you grab the spoons from the counter.

in the kitchen, your bodies subconsciously dance around each other. carefully, in perfect tune and pace. delicate steps of a routine formed over so much time together.

in the universe, your souls are tied, striding alongside one another in each lifetime repeated.

and this, is love.

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

Imagine this

I've been reading some of this good fics about Yandere Batfam x neglected Reader and it got me thinking.

In some of this fic, usually it's Alfred that has given the reader some love and have not neglected the poor thing and I was like,

What if Reader is still neglected by the batfam but Alfred gave them enough love so much that reader just decided to stay just for Alfred and Reader really just treated Alfred as their real Father or Grandfather.

Where Reader just let go of any expectation from getting attention from the others and just strive to make Alfred proud and happy.

How the turns have table

Imagine reader walking pass the others not bothering to greet them as they look for Alfred instead and other stuff.

Dick seeing them practically skipping as they clutch on a medal hanging on their neck.

"Woah hey!-...um whatcha got-". He tries to say but doesn't get any answers because you were busy muttering to yourself 'I got first place! I have to show this to Alfred!' as you giggle while looking down at the medal and sprint away when you see a glimpse of the butler at the distance.

How instead of begging for the others to train you and become a vigilante, you ask Alfred to train you for self-defense (especially the stuff from his spy days).

Jason was the first to arrive at the manor when the team heard about some intruders getting in but halted when he sees you tying up the unconscious thugs on the floor.

"Hey Alfred is this right?". You didn't pay them any mind when some of them pile in as you pay attention to Alfred who was praising you and giving you more good defense tips while you and him pull the unconscious people out.

How you spend healthy family time with Alfred by helping him in cooking and chores that earns you some knowledge of the recipes from his famous dishes.

Tim was trying to grab a coffee when he sees you having a fun time with Alfred as you skillfully prepare for dinner and actually have good laughs with him.

"Okay, then after I fold this I should add some paprika, right?". You ask the butler as he smiles at you while sipping on the tea that you made for him.

"Yes, you're correct once again young miss/master". He said while humming after drinking the tea indicating how good it is.

Tim can practically see you lighting up as you cheered a 'yes!' from Alfred's confirmation.

How you revolved your time and passion to Alfred and actually deciding that only Alfred is the one you should waste your time on.

Damian wonders around the manor when you and him bump into one another.

"And what are YOU doing walking around MY Father's manor?". He asks while glaring at you.

you just sigh and turn while clutching away the art supplies you bought so you can paint in the garden with Alfred.

"Walking away from you that's what I'm doing". you tell him as you turn the other way not even bothering to argue with the boy anymore.

How you do well in your studies and aim to get a good degree/phd and act like a proper man/lady but not because you want to keep up to being a Wayne but to see Alfred's proud face as he watches you stand on the stage as you show him your diploma/degree certificate.

Bruce decided to take a walk from sitting down for too long when he walk pass a framed picture on the hallway near Alfred's room and double takes when he sees you and Alfred standing together with while you were wearing a toga and cap holding not just any graduation certificate but a college one as the both of you look so happy and him seeing Alfred having that loving and well pleased expression something he rarely sees from Alfred after becoming the crusading dark knight.

Looking at the date he couldn't believe that it has been more that a few years since the graduation happened.

All of the family who used to ignore you suddenly took a different turn and started to try and get your attention but they fail to see that you already moved on from them and only cared about the one person that have literally loved you from the beginning.

Bonus:

Imagine Thomas and Martha Wayne was mysteriously revived for a day and met the family but was deeply disappointed to the others and took a special liking to reader because Alfred has said many good things about them and them especially getting many good degrees something that the rest haven't gotten yet or never bothered to get (this is my hot take because my family are hellbent on us cousins to finish school) and you know for a fact that Alfred is really REALLY proud of the kid that he raised preciously

[bluelockmaniac]

SPLASH .ᐟ

ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, michael kaiser, mikage reo, seishiro nagi, & meguru bachira (honourable mention) x fem!reader

synopsis. showering & bathing with your bllk husbands !

content warning. sfw !! suggestive but not really (?) but obviously lots of nakedness ノ pet names ノ mentions of menustral period, blood, & cramps in rin’s part ノ you scare the shit out of rin ノ itoshi brothers call you insults affectionately ノ you might have smacked sae’s butt ノgentleman reo ノ they’re all crazy rich men obsessed with you .

notes. 5.6k words (approx. 1k+ each) !

𝜗𝜚 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

“hmm, this should do it!” you mused, a pleased smile gracing your lips as you admired your reflection in the vanity mirror. you twirled left and right, the rose-gold satin robe flowing gracefully like liquid gold as you checked yourself from every angle.

the silk was a recent gift from sae, one he had brought back from spain, and its smooth fabric clung loosely to your body.

tonight would be like every other night when your husband was home— you were ready to indulge in your routine— taking a shower with sae. initially, you were never the clingy type, but that all changed early in your marriage;

you had accidentally walked in on him under the assumption he was still at football practice, only to be met with the sight of him under the shower, water streaming down his sculpted body. you were flashed. though startled at first, he recovered pretty quickly and nonchalantly asked you to join him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. after all, it wasn’t like it was the first time you’d seen him naked, right?

your eyes flickered to the digital display on your mirror, noting the time and cool temperature. an idea occurred to you, and you decided that maybe after the shower, you could suggest a quick dip in the pool. the weather was nice and it wasn’t too late, either.

excitedly, you rushed into the master bathroom and swung the door loudly. you caught sight of him standing beneath the showerhead in the large shower enclosure, the droplets trailing down his well-built chest, then to his toned thighs and calves, and then finally pooling at his feet. the elder itoshi’s gaze met yours and he sighed, unfazed by your entrance— this had become routine for him, too.

his eyes travelled over to the smooth robe you were wearing, immediately recognizing it as the one he had gifted you. “you look beautiful,” he said simply as he reached to turn off the water and slid open the glass door.

“thank you,” you smiled as you began to undress. the silky material slipped off your shoulders easily, bunching up at your feet on the tiled floor. he extended his hand out toward you, and you took it, stepping into the shower stall.

“careful, don’t slip,” he warned.

you rolled your eyes, giving him a light smack on his rear, which made him frown slightly– he was usually the one doing that to you, not the other way around. you slid the door closed and retorted with a cheeky grin, “please, who do you think i am?”

he flicked your forehead gently and turned the water back on. “you say that every time but somehow still manage to slip, stupid.”

as the cool water hit your skin, you looked up at sae with a pout. “baby, the water’s too cold. i’ve told you before, i’d love it if you warmed it up whenever i enter.”

“yeah, yeah, what a spoiled princess,” he muttered, shooting you a half-assed glare before adjusting the temperature to your liking. you couldn’t help but smirk. there’s something you and only you could know— sae loved to spoil you like crazy during your showers, and that is precisely why you allowed yourself to play the role of a spoiled brat, knowing he would not mind and rather entertain it.

you wrapped your arms around his waist, looking up at him and purposely fluttering your soft lashes. he grunted, recognizing the familiar look of expectation in your serene eyes. he looked up at the shelf that held various bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. 

“which body wash do you want this time?” he asked, his hand hovering over the shelf, knowing you could be indecisive. “and no being picky.”

you tapped your finger against your lips, eyeing the different scents he had spoiled you with. “hmm, i want the coconut drift, pl–” before you could finish, he was already reaching for it, “actually, i want the raspberry dreamscape.”

he narrowed his teal eyes at you but complied anyway, grabbing your light blue loofah from the hook. he squirted the raspberry-scented body wash onto it, rubbing it until it lathered into a light pink foam. he sat down on the wide bench built into the wall, pulling you by the waist until you stood right between his legs.

you looked down at him with a gentle smile, sighing softly and resting your hands on his shoulders as he scrubbed from your neck down to your abdomen. he then turned you around to scrub your back.

“sae, i know you’re taking a peek,” you teased, glancing back at him over your shoulder.

“yeah, no shit. i’m scrubbing your pretty ass right now,” he replied casually, being particularly gentle on your cheeks.

smiling, you turned back around and reached for your cherry dew shampoo, pumping some into your hands. you lathered it up before sae stood up, holding your waist and lowering his head slightly so your fingers could reach his wet, reddish hair.

“smells like you,” he murmured as you massaged your shampoo into his scalp.

“good, you’ll think of me while you’re training.”

“i do that regardless.”

his words caught you off-guard, making you fumble slightly as you ruffled his hair. “r-right…” you stammered before quickly changing the subject. “—oh, i almost forgot, do you want to go outside? the weather’s nice.”

sae moved aside the damp strands of hair clinging to your skin and planted a light kiss on the side of your neck. “alright,”

as you followed him out of the enclosure, your wet foot accidentally slipped on the polished floor tiles. you panicked, squeezing your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the fall, but instead of hitting the solid floor, you felt a pair of strong hands catch you. sae steadied you and then handed you a towel to dry off.

“told you you’d manage to slip this time, too,” he added, slipping on his velvety, crimson robe with a smirk that only fueled your embarrassment.

“ugh…” you groaned as you wrapped yourself in your rose-gold robe. you looked up at him, then without a word, hugged him tightly. “carry me.”

he rolled his eyes, but you found yourself pressed up against his chest in less than a moment, his arms wrapped securely around you. your arms clung around his neck, and your legs linked tightly around his waist.

“why did i marry you, again?” he asked, pinching your side lightly.

you buried your face into the crook of his neck and he could feel you grin against his skin. “because you love me.”

“. . . unfortunately.”

𝜗𝜚 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍

“i thought i told you to get up,” rin grumbled, looming over the bed where you were cuddled comfortably under the duvet. “you’re lucky i’m even taking time out of my day to help you.”

you burrowed yourself deeper into the bed, pulling the duvet over your head to avoid his gaze. “i don’t want to move!” you protested, and even that subtle movement sent a sharp pain through your abdomen, making you wince at your cramps’ unbearable pain. “and besides, that's the bare minim–”

unimpressed, rin rolled his eyes and yanked the blanket off your face, gently lifting you up into his arms. your legs dangled over his elbows as he held you close. “i’ve already prepared the bath.” he said softly.

you tried to resist, throwing weak punches at his chest with your fists, but it was no use. you gave up and fell limp against his chest. the pain was too much, too uncomfortable, and the idea of being spoiled by your husband, even for a little while, was pretty tempting. 

still, you weren’t going to surrender completely without a fight. as you buried your face into his chest, an ominous smile tugged at your lips— a smile rin which knew all too well, one that made him visibly nervous. it was the kind of smile that meant you had something up your sleeve.

“i don’t know what you’re thinking of, but seriously, forget it,” he warned, eyeing you suspiciously. you responded by giving him an innocent kiss on the cheek, causing him to pause and narrow his turquoise eyes. “dammit.”

your husband set you down on the bathroom counter and began unbuttoning your floral pajama top, pulling it over your head. you gripped the edge of the counter for support, tipping your head back slightly as he leaned in to plant a soft kiss onto your neck. 

while rin busied himself with discarding the rest of your clothes, you slyly reached out and grabbed the white, gold-rimmed bin filled up with lotions, moisturizers, essential oils, and various other bath products. pretty normal, nothing suspicious so far. you peered into it, a giggle escaping your lips as you spotted this evening’s target: a bath bomb.

but this time, its colour was red.

“stop giggling at nothing, you weirdo,” he chided, scooping you carefully into his arms. his expression softened as he noticed how tightly your fingers gripped onto him, and the way your eyes squeezed shut in discomfort. “sorry, did that hurt?”

“n-no, i’m fine,” you reassured him. rin nodded, lowering you gently into the large, pre-prepared bath. it was just the way you liked it during your painful time of the month— warm, bordering on hot, with medium-sized bubbles floating on the surface.

“i’ll bring your favourite chocolate in a bit,” he said, gently lapping the water toward you before attempting to withdraw and leave. “call my name if you need anything, i’ll be outs— shit.”

it happened too fast for him to react. before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed his arm with whatever strength you had left and pulled him into the bath with you. he fell into the water with a loud splash, soaking him completely. for a hot moment, the bathroom was filled with awkward silence and the sound of water settling around you.

rin sat there, his stretchy navy shirt and black, knee-high shorts clinging to his body, drenched and dripping. he closed his eyes, one hand covering his face like a visor as he tried to calm himself. his other hand rested on the slippery surface of the tub for support.

you bit your lip, struggling to stifle a giggle as you crawled through the water towards him, pushing his knees apart so you could sit on his lap.

“i think it’s unfair that you still have your clothes on while i’m… y’know,” you pouted.

he threw you a glare, his hands gripping your waist as he tried to push you away, but you wouldn’t budge. “i fucking knew there was something wrong with your sudden obedience,” he scoffed, throwing his head back against the rim of the tub in surrender. you took the opportunity to hook your legs under his thighs and peel the shirt over his head.

“i’ll leave your shorts on…” you paused, raising an eyebrow suggestively. “—unless?”

“no.”

“yeah– thought so.”

settling against his chest, you felt his large hands move to rub berry blossom body wash into his palms. he placed both hands on your waist, sliding them up and down your sides before his fingers began tracing lazily patterns along your back.

you softly sighed and rested your chin on his upper chest, looking as blissful as ever. rin was almost tempted to lean down and kiss you until you were gasping for air, but you beat him to it. linking your arms around his neck, you slotted your mouth against his. he reciprocated, but not before pinching your side lightly, just enough to squirm in his grasp.

unbeknownst to him, however, your arm had slithered around and rummaged quietly through the white bin until it found a soft, round object. you smiled against his mouth, then subtly dropped the red bath bomb into the water with a quiet splash.

“f-fuck…” you whimpered suddenly, breaking the kiss and clutching your stomach as your face contorted—eyes squinting—in feigned pain.

rin’s brows furrowed in confusion, and he instinctively adjusted his position to grip onto your shoulders in concern. “what’s wrong? you okay?”

you didn’t respond, instead blinking up at him with half-closed eyes once, then twice, before letting your eyelids slip shut and beginning to breathe softly.

“y/—” one could say his heart practically stopped beating at that moment, his eyes widening as he watched the water around you cloud with a sweet cherry red dye. it also definitely did not help that you decided it was a good idea to fall limp onto his chest, though you were clearly breathing normally.

was your monthly bleeding supposed to be this excessive?

“w-what the fuck!” he fretted in horror as he shook your shoulders forcefully, his hand trembling as he patted your cheek, trying to get you to meet his gaze. your eyes were bleary, yet they still had their usual shine. “is this fucking normal? are you going to bleed to death? should i call for help–??”

over the course of your marriage, you had never seen rin panic like this. in the ten-plus years of knowing him, this was the first time you’d witnessed him so completely consumed by worry for you. typically, rin kept his emotions under control, reacting subtly to any situation. but now, as the vivid colour surrounded you both, you could see the raw concern surfacing on his face.

of course, a large part of you felt guilty— wondering if maybe you’d gone a tad bit too far this time. the last thing you wanted was for him to fall ill or lose focus during his next game because of the stress you caused.

unable to hold it back any longer, you let out the laugh you’d been suppressing, and rin’s expression immediately shifted from panic to deadpan. like, literally. immediately. just that stupid giggle of yours was all it took for him to realize he had managed to fall for one of your traps yet again— this time, in the most ridiculous way possible.

he simply stood up without a word and kicked the lumpy, fizzing bath bomb away. then, with water dripping down his tight-to-skin shorts, he stepped out of the tub.

“wait, rin—” you called out from behind, your hands gripping the rim of the tub as you tried to sit up.

he glanced over his shoulder with an unreadable expression as he dried himself with a towel. you noticed the faint pink tint on his cheeks, likely from the lingering embarrassment and panic. after all, even if your bleeding had been heavy, there was no way the dye would’ve been that saturated in such a large tub.

“...i’m going to say this one more time,” he said calmly, “call me if you need anything or if you want to leave the tub so i can bathe you,” he walked slowly back to you, bending down until his face was close to yours.

“i’m sor–” you started to apologize, but he cut you off.

“and one more thing,” he added, cupping your face gently in his hands. “you scared me to death, you fool. i fucking love you. don’t do that again.”

before you could respond, he sealed his lips against yours. it was safe to say you decided then and there that you wouldn’t pull that particular prank again— at least, not without the promise that he’d shower with you as part of the deal, of course.

𝜗𝜚 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑

friday had finally arrived– the long-awaited end to an exhausting week. to you, it usually meant you had all the time in the world to pamper yourself and indulge in self-care. heavy emphasis on usually, because unfortunately, this wasn’t always the case when you had an extremely insufferable (but annoyingly loveable) husband.

if there was one thing kaiser excelled at— besides hurling terrifyingly creative insults at people he barely knew and dominating the football field— it was his nonstop teasing.

you stepped into your spacious master bathroom with a soft towel embroidered with delicate begonia patterns tucked snugly under your arm. your shoulders felt unbearably stiff, and your back throbbed with ache. the thought of dipping your leg into the hot, bubbly bath you had prepared earlier was quite literally the only thing keeping you upright.

finally, your body made contact with the euphoric warmth as you lowered yourself into the wide, glossy marble bathtub positioned near the window. the heat of the water instantly began to soothe your sore muscles, and you let out a content sigh, leaning back against the built-in backrest.

oh, it was going to be so relaxing. would have been, if kaiser hadn’t suddenly barged into the washroom without so much as a courtesy knock— though knowing him, you doubted he even considered such things. the sudden intrusion made you flinch and pulled you out of the comfortable state you’d just begun to enjoy.

“knock before you enter, stupid,” you snapped, shooting him a glare as you sank deeper into the frothy water until only the top half of your head peeked out.

kaiser shut the door behind him and stood there practically naked. your eyes trailed down the path of pearly beads of water that teasingly trickled down his toned chest with no shame. the white cotton towel that hung loosely around his waist threatened to unravel and reveal what’s hidden beneath with the slightest blow of the wind.

“you’re really soaking in here all by yourself after i told you i wanted to join you, prinzessin?” he rolled his eyes, but with no real irritation in his voice as he sauntered toward you. his fingers deftly unhooked the towel from his waist, nonchalantly tossing it into the hamper.

you pushed yourself back up, fingers gripping the edge of the bathtub for support before wiping your face with your palms, water droplets sliding down your cheeks. raising a brow, you asked, “mihya– are you seriously planning to get in even after you’ve clearly just showered?”

you watched as he slipped into the tub, settling in front of you. his head leaned back against the cool marble edge, arms casually draped along the sides of the bathtub.

“that was just the rinse i always take after football practice,” he explained lazily, “is it really so terrible to want to bathe with my beautiful wife?”

you let out an exaggerated sigh, trying to hide the smile that was tugging at the corners of your lips from his compliment– though he tended to throw that one your way frequently.

“you’re so annoying,” you laughed, slowly crawling across the slippery surface of the tub toward him. your hands settled on his broad shoulders as you guided yourself onto his bare lap. “now i don’t even have room to stretch my legs.”

his tattooed hand, adorned with the blue crown, came to rest on your waist. though, unfortunately, you were oblivious to the subtle movement of his other hand, instead nestling your head against his chest.

it felt so serene— until it wasn’t.

seriously, what could possibly go wrong while you’re comfortably straddling your husband’s lap, eyes sewn shut, head on his chest as you try to continue your weekly post-work relaxation session?

apparently, everything.

in an instant, a jolt of freezing cold water slammed onto your back, each drop hitting you like a small brick. your eyes flew open and a loud gasp was drawn from you as you shot upright, instinctively scrambling away from him. you nearly slipped on the slick surface in the process as you tried to escape the showerhead above you. who thought it was a good idea to combine a bathtub with a shower, anyway?

“michael!” you whined, seeking warmth under the foamy blanket of sea. “that was cruel…”

he grinned, reaching over to turn off the water, which had started to drench him, too.

“sorry, meine liebe,” he cooed, moving to your side and pressing a gentle, almost apologetic kiss to your trembling shoulders. “i heard cold water’s great for sore muscles.”

“you and i both know that’s not why you did it,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him.

he raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer until your cheek pressed against his chest.

“hmm. well, you know, if i’m feeling generous, i might give you a life-changing massage or even treat you to your favourite food if y—”

“life-ending massage, you mean. you nearly crushed my bones last time– i literally felt my soul leaving my body.” you paused for emphasis before adding, “and i'm getting my food without any ‘ifs’.”

he chuckled and stood up with a smirk, the water sliding off his exposed body as he stepped out of the tub. he grabbed his simple towel and slung it over his shoulder before glancing back at you.

“fine, but i won’t order anything– i’ll cook.”

your heart sank. his cooking was nothing short of life-threatening.

“god, please, no!”

𝜗𝜚 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐎

“sorry, sweetheart, let me just…” reo murmured, draping a silky, red fabric over your eyes, tying it securely behind your head. “there we go, baby. can you see anything?”

“no, reo,” you replied with a small shake of your head as your hand hovered uncertainly in the air, searching for his. 

a soft laugh escaped his lips before reaching out to thread his fingers in your hand. you could only weakly map out every subtle turn in your mind as he led you somewhere in your mansion. finally, he came to a stop, causing you to bump into his firm back.

your toes flexed and unflexed, feeling the plush carpet beneath you. the texture was familiar, and you quickly recognized that he had brought you to the grand bathroom adjacent to the balcony on the upper level of your mansion.

“ready?” he asked, the double doors creaking softly as he opened them. he turned back to you, fingers curling around your wrist, pulling you in. “i’m taking your blindfold off, sweetheart.”

as the velvety fabric slipped off and fluttered noiselessly to the carpet, your eyes widened in awe. a gasp escaped past your parted, plump lips as you took in the almost surreal sight in front of you.

“baby, you didn’t have to…”

you entered the large, steamy room and the warmth of the automatically heated floor, immediately seeped into your feet. in the corner of the washroom, the jacuzzi tub was filled to the brim with fluffy clouds of white foam, and was decorated with delicate red rose petals scattered everywhere like confetti. and to make things even more romantic, vanilla-scented candles were lit on the flat edges of the tub.

your gaze shifted to a small glass table beside the tub, where a bubble machine quietly hummed classical music and released shimmering bubbles into the air. 

“do you like it?” his voice interrupted your silent admiration, and you quickly turned around, a sheepish smile spreading across your face. you locked your arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“i… i love it,” you whispered. your eyes wafted back toward the jacuzzi and you moved toward it. “thank you, reo.”

he smiled, a gentle curve of his lips that reached his eyes as he rested a reassuring hand on your shoulder. his fingers began to work from behind, unzipping the back of your fitted dress and pulling the delicate material down. “anything for my favourite lady.”

the cool air soon kissed your bare skin; dress and undergarments neatly folded by reo and set aside in the walk-in closet adjoining the bathroom. heat rose to your cheeks as you stood there, exposed. though he had seen you naked countless times before, it had always managed to leave you flustered.

your head hung low, eyes fixed down on the marble tiles beneath you as you crossed your arms over your chest, each hand on the opposite shoulder.

he noticed your bashful demeanor and chuckled softly. his hands found their place on your waist, and he bent down slightly to press slow, sweet kisses along your collarbone. you stared down at him lovingly, hands coming up to card through his soft, amethyst hair. the feeling of his lips trailing across your skin made your breath hitch, and when planted a singular, feather-light kiss on the bottom curve of your breast, your eyes fluttered shut. he straightened up to properly look at you, a grin playing at his lips.

“what, you nervous?” he teased, ruffling your hair affectionately. “smile for me, yeah? my beautiful angel.”

you opened your eyes, looking at him shyly. “stop it… you’re embarrassing me.”

he rolled his eyes playfully, his fingers reaching up to loosen his tie when you suddenly stopped him.

“i’m going to undress you.” you stated firmly, your fingers already skillfully loosening the silky tie and sliding it over his head before beginning to work on the black buttons of his suit.

“t-that’s…” his voice faltered, and he could not suppress the rosy pink tint from spreading across his pale cheeks. the sight of your focused expression– your squinted, dreamy eyes and the way your lips tucked under your teeth as you undid his clothing left him flustered.

it made his heart swell from the overwhelming realization of how much he loved you. how had he gotten so lucky, he wondered, to be with someone as lovely and gentle as you, let alone marry you?

“there, all done!” you exclaimed with a satisfied smile as you gave his firm abs a gentle pat.

“i’m going to make you undress me every single time now, no complaints,” he chuckled, grabbing your hand and helping you into the jacuzzi. the two of you settled beside each other, sinking into the rose-petal-littered, bubbly water.

reo pulled you in closer to him until your bodies were nuzzled together, aligned inch-to-inch. he let out a deep, relaxed sigh, about to throw his head back when he noticed you scooping up a handful of foamy water mixed with a few rose petals, the water seeping from between the gaps of your fingers.

you gave him a cheeky grin as you hovered your hands above his head and released the blooms, letting them fall delicately onto his hair.

he laughed and plucked a petal from his head, pressing it near your collarbone until it stuck. “sorry, gorgeous, but these petals look much better on you,”

he leaned in and pecked your soft lips. one by one, he began to pick up individual petals, carefully sticking each one all over your body, as if adorning you with pretty rubies. his lips followed each placement, planting a tender kiss on every petal he laid on your skin. the whole time, he maintained eye contact with you, those half-lidded orchid eyes making the blood rush rapidly to your cheeks.

satisfied, he reached over and picked up a nearby moveable silver-rimmed mirror and handed it to you, showing you your petal-covered body.

“see? aren’t you just the prettiest?”

𝜗𝜚 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈

“sei, i’m serious— if you fall asleep one more time, i’ll leave you in the tub alone,” you warned almost seriously, patting his cheek gently to rouse him. his heavy eyelids fluttered, and you could see the sleep creeping back as he began to slip beneath the water again.

the giant of a man’s broad back was pressed firmly against your chest as your fingers worked their mystique across his fatigued muscles. you kneaded at his shoulders, and fisted at his back, pressing his muscles gently. it wasn’t that he was sore– no. this had become a habit, something he looked forward to after a draining football practice or game.

your massages were the best of the best, his personal heaven, the kind that always managed to lull him to the brink of sleep. he had tried numerous massages from professional masseuses before you two got married, but none could ever compare to the sorcery of your hands.

“noo, i’ll drownnn…” his voice was a whine slurred with sleep. he blinked his bleary eyes before lazily readjusting his position. 

“then wake up! you’re heavier when you’re sleeping!” you scolded, poking at his shoulders.

“’kay…” he muttered, but you knew better. as expected, no sooner had he mumbled his agreement than his eyes clamped shut again, his head nodding forward. you grunted softly and wiggled out from under him, carefully removing his weight from your lap.

with some effort, you managed to move your husband, pulling him upright so he could be seated properly against the cool, black granite wall of the pool.

“hmph,” you huffed, shoving your hand underwater before splashing his sleepy face with a huge wave of water. he flinched awake and nearly lost his footing on the slippery pool floor, his hands shooting out to hold onto the edge to steady himself. “you asked for it, dummy.”

he groaned and rubbed his face with a grumpy expression. “y’play so unfairly, baby,” he muttered. his long arm reached out and, before you could react, grabbed your wrist, effortlessly pulling you against his chest. your hands were suddenly pressed against his sculpted abdomen. his large hands cupped your cheeks gently, tilting your head to the left, then the right, then back again as if inspecting you.

“hm, something’s different ‘bout you,” he mused, burying his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent with a satisfied hum. “ah. new shampoo…?” he leaned back slightly, comically raising his head to the crystal chandelier above, as if deep in thought. “strawberry elixir?”

your eyes widened in surprise. if there was one thing that amazed you about nagi, it was his uncanny observance despite his notorious laziness. you had bought the expensive shampoo just a few days ago and only today had you used it for the first time, when you showered before entering the bath.

it may be the sort of detail people would quickly notice but perhaps that was the special privilege he granted to the person he loved. for you, he gave you the rare gift of his focused attention.

you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in amusement. leaning in, you pressed a long kiss to his lips, which he lazily reciprocated. “that’s not going to make me forgive you, you know,” you murmured against his mouth, though your smile betrayed the truth.

he groaned, shifting his gaze to the scented oil bottles lined along the rim of the hot tub. without much thought, he blinked slowly and shrugged, reaching for the bottle labeled lavender dream. carelessly, he poured the entire contents into the water, the strong fragrance immediately filling the bathroom.

“nagi!” you cried, eyes wide in horror. “you don’t just add oil directly to water! they won’t mix!”

he paused, staring at the tiny droplets of oil floating on the surface before glancing down at the guilty-looking empty bottle in his hands. “oh. you’re right.”

“don’t just–!”

“uh… i have an idea,” he muttered, calmly ruffling your hair. you watched as he pushed himself up and out of the hot tub (you’re amazed he took the initiative to do something himself) and walked to the controller wall, completely unbothered by the fact he was butt-naked.

at the click of one rectangular button, the jets at the bottom of the tub immediately activated and powerful streams of water began to come from underneath, kneading at your muscles.

a delightful sigh left your lips as nagi slid back beside you, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“see, baby?” he murmured, trailing his fingers over the water, feeling the water ripple over his skin. “the oil’ll disappear sooner or later, m’kay?”

you nodded your head, slightly but not fully convinced. you turned around to hug him, closing your eyes. “sure… but i’ll just use one of the guest bathrooms if it doesn’t.”

“we’ll.” 

he added too quickly for a man like him. he needed your massages after all– not the jets which, while comforting, did not come close enough to the way your hands worked.

you rolled your eyes playfully and smiled, “yes, yes, together.”

just then, the large television mounted on the porcelain-tiled wall turned on, drawing your attention. you turned your head to find nagi waving the remote with a subtle grin.

“wanna watch a movie and cuddle?”

𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘 𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀 and baths go so well together because they are so silly. you can always find him at the shower control panel, playing with the settings until the outline of the tub glowed in ethereal colours of topaz and quartz and emerald.

also, the bath would inevitably become a sea of yellow rubber duckies because he thinks they're cute and they match his hair! he does leave the cleanup to you, though :(

besides, this man would be so indecisive when it comes to water temperature. one minute it’s icy cold, the next it’s scorching hot, only to swing to cold again because, well, he felt like it! the two of you would end up dancing in the water like goofs, splashing and kicking at each other because no one is watching you in your private yard– but you’re sure he’d do it in front of many eyes anyway.

one of his favourite games is to try and carry you on his back as he swims around the tub. despite your repeated warnings that he’d sink under the combined weight, he’d insist on trying, each attempt failing worse than the previous.

but the best part? even though you’re both naked, baths and showers with him were about anything but sexual. he sees you naked– okay? lovely! let’s see who could hold their breath the longest underwater.

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[ja3yun]

On the Roof || S.JY

stranger!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), cream pie, fingering, marking and biting, sex with a stranger, weirdly fluffy, petnames (princess, baby), mentions of bad relationships with parents, alcohol, comforting, do not have sex with strangers you meet on a roof, not proofread, anything else lmk! w.c: 9.7k synopsis: when you stumble across a boy on your apartment rooftop, you can't help but invite him to stay. a/n: hi! it's me. this is my first work back and honestly, it's not great but i just needed to get back in the swing of things so please be kind. I missed you guys a lot and the time away was exactly what i needed. thank you all for understanding, and i love you unconditionally!

The winter air tickles your senses as you push open the large, unfairly heavy door to your complex’s rooftop. It might be bitter, but it’s welcomed - your body creating unnecessary heat from both the walk up the three flights of stairs and the discomfort of your day. 

Your shift was hard, too hard. Considering it’s a brand new year, you had stupidly thought that people would be a lot nicer to public service workers, yet you were proven wrong. With countless patients’ loved ones screaming down the phone to you, doctors barking demands at you because they see you as lesser than them, and not to mention the one man who decided that spitting in your face was a rational reaction to you politely telling him that he can’t see his grandmother who was in the middle of an operation.

Safe to say, you’ve had better shifts as a hospital receptionist. 

But there was always one place you could count on to take a deep breath and reset. The rooftop. It’s quiet, overlooks the city, and helps you put into perspective that murder is not the answer to your life problems. But sometimes, God, you wish it was…

Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you make your way to the chairs you so perfectly placed underneath the solar-charged fairy lights, which hang half-arsed off the unused 1990 aerials. It’s not really how you would like to decorate the place, if you had it your way, you would have it looking reminiscent of the rooftop from Wish You, the same one you committed to memory as Lee Sang kissed In Soo for the first time. But since you’re not even supposed to have access to this part of the building, you’ll count the pathetic attempt at creating sanctuary as a win. 

The lights guide you to your seat when you see a figure hunched over, one hand holding a beer and the other holding his head. This is not what you were expecting to see. No one comes up here, not past 10pm anyway. There is one neighbour who occupies the premises when he needs a smoke without his wife knowing, but he works the night shift. So this person is new.

“Um,” you begin, clearing your throat ever so softly to alert them of your presence without giving them an acute heart attack. “Hi?”

Their head jolts up from their hand, eyes wide and face shocked. Clearly, they didn’t expect to have company tonight either. 

You focus on the figure in front of you – a boy, no older than yourself – scrutinising his features with a careful eye. As a woman, being vigilant around unfamiliar men has become second nature, an unfortunately ingrained habit of self-preservation you have mastered since before you can remember. So, your mind ticks through the usual checklist: is there a need to run? Are your shoulders getting that deep tingle that crawls up to your jaw? Is your gut making you want to vomit? None of those alarm bells ring. Instead, you’re met with something else entirely - uncertainty, maybe even sympathy.

The boy seems…fine, at least on the surface. No initial gut-wrenching unease claws at your insides. Emboldened by the absence of any red flags, you take another ginger step closer, studying him in detail.

His large, tired brown eyes peer out from behind thick-rimmed glasses, the weight of exhaustion evident. The glasses sit securely on his pretty thick nose. His lips, naturally full and a muted pink, are set in a neutral line, though the light could be softening their actual colour - it’s hard to tell beneath the hood’s shadow. Greasy, near-black hair clings to his forehead, unkempt but thick. 

His outfit doesn’t fare much better to be honest; a mishmash of layers that hints at desperation more than deliberation. Faded grey jeans hang loose and crinkled, clearly worn more than once without a wash. Over a white t-shirt sits a black hoodie, topped off with a jacket far too big for him, the kind of size that suggests it doesn’t belong to him at all. The entire image strikes you in a way that leaves concern pricking all over your chest.

Steeling yourself, you step closer again, your voice soft but firm. “Are you okay?” The question is sincere, meant to come across as a kind gesture - like when you let a cat sniff around your hand before you just go in for the pet. Your eyes meet his, offering as much warmth as you can muster. There’s something about the way he sits, cold and crumpled, that pulls at your humanity.

At first, his expression flickers, betraying something fragile beneath the surface. But it doesn’t last. In an instant, his jaw sets, and his shoulders square in a defensive shift. His cheeks hollow as his tongue presses against them, words unspoken but clearly brewing. The moment hangs in the air, heavy and awkward. 

It’s as if your simple question has poked at a bruise, tender and raw. You’ve touched something buried, and for reasons you can’t yet work out, his reaction irks you. Of all things to take issue with, why this? What on earth had he expected - for you not to ask a very valid question? Perhaps it’s the day you’ve had that’s caused the unnecessary offence on your behalf.

He averts his gaze, the connection between you severed. Instead, he tips back the beer bottle in his hand, his focus shifting to the cityscape below. The quiet glug of liquid slipping down his throat is the only response you get, and it grates against the care you offered.

A flicker of irritation sparks within you. Perhaps it’s the brush-off, or maybe it’s the contradiction in his actions. He’s sitting here in your space, looking like the embodiment of a cry for help, yet recoils at the smallest act of kindness. Still, you don’t back down. Instead, you shift your weight and tilt your head, keeping your tone neutral but unwavering.

“Fine, If you don’t want to talk, that’s sound,” you say, folding your arms against the cold. “But sitting out here, looking like the world’s chewed you up and spat you out…people are going to ask questions like ‘are you okay’ or ‘what’s the matter’. Just saying.” You huff out and follow his gaze to the city. People are having a much better day than you out there, and envy jabs at you.

For a moment, you think he’ll continue ignoring you; his shoulders remain tense, his grip on the bottle firm. But then he sighs, the sound long and weary, like air escaping a deflating balloon, one being pinched and controlled. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, a surprising Australian accent whistling through the wind.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, though the words lack conviction. His eyes remain fixed on the horizon, steadfastly avoiding yours.

“You’re a terrible liar,” you counter, letting a small, dry smile tug at your lips. “And you’re also not allowed up here.”

A tense silence follows, broken only by the chug of a train in the far distance. It’s not exactly comfortable, but neither is it unbearable. You find yourself wondering who he is and what’s brought him to this specific rooftop. 

“You can’t get up here unless you’re a tenant,” you blurt out, trying to get any morsel of information from him. You figure the quicker you find out what he’s doing here, the quicker you can find a solution for him to leave and then have your safe space back to yourself. You might have sympathy for him, clearly having a hard time of life, but so are you - and your comfort outweighs a total stranger who can’t even bother to look your way.

“Okay,” he says bored, sipping his beer again. 

“That’s your invitation to either tell me that you moved in recently, or, your queue to leave because you’re trespassing.” 

“Invitation declined.”

He is so rude, you think to yourself, though you wonder whether you should just call him out for it and at least gain some reaction for him. 

Instead, you park yourself in the seat next to him, huffing as you drop down. “Well I’m not leaving until you do,” you state matter-of-factly, attempting to not let his presence ruin your mood even further. You suppose, if he sits and shuts up, you can at least pretend he isn’t here invading your space.

Though technically, you’re invading his, but you get the idea.

The boy side-eyes you, a small, angry smirk etching onto his cold rosey face. “Yeah? Well, you’re gonna be here for a long fucking time.” He spits his words out, frustration laced within each syllable, though you can tell it’s not directed towards you. The boy is so far in his own head that you begin to realise that any discontentment he might have has less to do with you and your presence, and more to do with the reason he’s hibernating on your rooftop.

So, you sit back, and leave him be. To be honest, you’ve dealt with far worse and crabbier people today, in comparison, this boy is like rainbows and kittens.

Closing your eyes, you let the white noise of the night take over you, infiltrating all your tension and disdain towards the day, and settling you into a comfortable silence. The fairy lights above add a serene atmosphere that you crave after work, the faint lights providing some fake warmth. They were not easy to get up there, but a few falls and tangles later, you realised that all the scrapes and twirls were worth it.

The hooded boy beside you peaks over, finally taking you in as more than an inconvenience. He notices how you breathe in deep, exhaling with a sigh of relief and a cloud of warmth that combats the freezing air. 

It doesn’t take him a minute to realise that you’ve had a bad day too, and a pang of guilt hits him. He’s being unfair to you when you probably just want to relax under the night sky and here he is taking up space. 

He takes up too much space.

Reaching down at his feet, he picks up a bottle of beer from his case, the clinking not even disturbing your quest for serenity. He pokes your thigh with the bottom of the bottle, gaining your attention. When your eyes meet once again, there’s a sorrowful look on his face, the alcohol a form of apology for being an arsehole. It’s an apology you’ll gladly accept. 

“You look like you could use it,” he murmurs, offering a tight smile as he waits for you to take the brown glass bottle.

You wrap your hand around the base and lift it up in thanks. “I could use ten sambucas and a pint of tequila to wash them down,” you snort out a sarcastic chuckle, beginning to unscrew the cap. You need to thank whatever genius decided that bottle openers were too much hassle and gave people a much easier and more practical way to open a bottle of beer. You hope they’re having a good night.

The boy lets out a laugh, short but genuine, raising his own bottle to his lips. “That bad, huh?” he asks, voice muffled slightly by the glass.

“It gets like that,” you shrug, taking a long pull from the bottle, barely savouring the taste, routing around for the effects of calmness that it will bring rather than its pallet. “Comes with working in a hospital.”

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity momentarily overriding his gloom “Nurse?”

“Receptionist.” You correct him, hissing out as you absorb the alcohol. Beer is not your favourite taste, a Sex on the Beach is much more appealing, but you would down a tank of gasoline if it meant you could get rid of this stress.

He sucks in an empathetic breath, whistling low as he leans back against the seat. “Yeah, you need a gun, not alcohol.”

The comment catches you off guard, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, you laugh - really laugh. It bursts out of you, raw and unrestrained, carrying away the weight of the day. Life isn’t inherently awful, but it’s lonely sometimes. Working back shift in the hospital makes it hard to keep friends or any semblance of a social life. The most interaction you get that isn’t disgruntled patients or angry phone calls is on twitter with your online friends, but even then, it’s a rise-and-repeat conversation cycle of ‘for real’ and ‘same’ replies to posts you make about Jang Kyungho when no one is looking. 

Not exactly the deep human connection that people need.

So this, being able to laugh and have a bit of understanding for even a second, is comforting. It almost makes you feel bad for cursing the boy out in your head.

Smiling, you extend a hand to him, “Y/N.”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second before taking it. “Jaeyun,” he replies, offering you a smile in return. It’s faint but sincere, a crack in the armour he’s wearing so tightly.

As he grips your hand in his, you feel the ice-coldness on his skin, a clear indicator that he has been up here for quite some time. Or at least out in the open air. It only makes you more intrigued - and with him being a little slither more open with you, you decide to take the nugget and run with it.

So you talk, and talk, and talk. It feels like forever but it’s actually only two hours. Not a lot is said, but you learn some things about him; hobbies, interests, friends, his favourite TV shows and Films. All surface-level stuff, yet it feels like you’re speaking to an old friend. He learns about you too - the same stuff, with added anecdotes about working in a hospital.

But there is one thing that you are dying to know.

“So,” you begin, twisting your patio chair to face him fully, the legs scraping along the asphalt of the roof. “You can guess I’m here after a bad shift…why are you here?” Your face is expectant, waiting for an answer while you drink your beer.

But Jaeyun’s face is overcome with a flash of rage, partly due to your question, but more the fact that your question made him think about the reason he is here. Though, as quickly as his face shows agitation, it dissipates just as fast. Instead, he opts for an obtuse response. “Just wanted to enjoy the view. That’s all.”

“Couldn’t do that from your own building, no?” you tease lightly, humour softening the prodding tone. But your persistence nudges too close to something real. “Oh... did your girlfriend kick you out?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, too sharp and intrusive.

Unfortunately, it’s a habit of yours to be so nosey that it comes off inconsiderate or produces ill-timed questions. In this instance, it’s both.

His grip tightens on the neck of the bottle. The knuckles whiten, the tension visible. For a moment, he studies the label, reading the same ingredients over and over as if they hold the secret to life's greatest mystery - what happened on that fishing trip in Gavin and Stacey.

“My parents did. Yeah.” His confession is sharp, devoid of emotion

Your stomach drops. “Oh...” It’s all you manage, guilt prickling at the edges of your thoughts. You’re so stupid for poking Y/N! You inwardly scold yourself. Obviously, this issue is so much bigger than you can process. Still, your mouth will continue to flap around. 

“Yep.” He pops the p with bitter precision, his tone teetering on the edge of sarcasm. “Apparently, I need to ‘get my act together.’” He says with accompanying quotation marks from his fingers.

“As in?”

“As in I need to be their perfect little boy and follow in my brother’s footsteps - be a lawyer.” The words fall flat, heavy with resentment.

Nodding along, the pieces form enough for you to make your own solid conclusions. “And I guess you don’t want that?”

“Fuck no.” Jaeyun scoffs out a bitter laugh. “I’m more likely to need a lawyer than be one.”

“Ohhh a bad boy huh?” you wiggle your brows, trying to interject some semblance of humour into the moment while sussing him out, to lighten his load even just a smidge. You can’t begin to imagine what his parents said or did to him once he rejected their concept of a perfect life, and you don’t really want him to dwell on it right now either.

He laughs despite himself, a quiet sound that momentarily lightens his expression. “Maybe.” It’s a noncommittal answer, but he seems content to let you spin your own version of events.

Honestly, he is not bad in any shape or form. But when he says he would need a lawyer rather than being one, he means that that career is so absurd that even a goody too shoes like him is more likely to get in trouble before he stands in a suit.

He just wants to live his life without this great expectation, without people demanding he ‘do better’ when he knows he is doing just fine; he’s in a great University, studying music and production, and has a decent part-time job at the record store, which isn’t loads of money, but enough for him to pay his mum and dad digs and still have a life outside their constraints. He’s doing fine, or so he believes.

But fine isn’t enough for his parents. Their love towards their own son is tied to the weight of their expectations, ones he can’t - or won’t - carry.

“So they just…kicked you out?” you ask carefully, noting the sorrow in his features as he turns the events of the past few months in his head. Sympathy creeps back into your chest, any lingering annoyance dissipating along with the last sips of your beer.

“Yeah,” he confirms, sighing and shrugging. “It’s fine.”

“Are you staying with friends or…” You don’t finish the question because you’re scared of the answer; the dishevelled clothes and hair are enough to semi-confirm.

Jaeyun looks up, his gaze catching the glimmer of the fairy lights, their soft glow reflected in his dark irises. “I was, until a few days ago. You can only couch-hop for so long before people start to feel like you’re intruding.”

He holds no malice towards his friends, no bitterness in his tone, and honestly, his best friend Sunghoon said he could stay for as long as it took him to save up for an apartment of his own. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, the boy already doing more for him than most would have. Even Jay, his other friend, offered to loan him the money for the first month's rent on a flat uptown. 

But Jaeyun’s pride wouldn’t allow him to take advantage of their kindness. He would manage on his own, no matter how hard it got.

Seeing the pity in your eyes, he waves his hand to brush off your concern. “It’s fine, I’ve scraped up enough money to get rent now. I just need to find a place,” he smiles softly, appreciative of your sympathy even if he doesn’t want it. “I’ll be fine. I’m going looking tomorrow.”

There’s a sense of relief that his words bring you. Although his predicament isn’t ideal right now, it looks like it could be on the turnaround, and for that, you’re thankful.

“If it’s only for one night, do you want my couch?” The offer spills out before you can stop it, surprising even yourself.

Jaeyun laughs heartedly, eyebrows knitting in disbelief and amusement. “You’re fucking stupid.”

“Huh?!” you exclaim in shock. It’s not really the response you were expecting. A yes? Sure. A no? Absolutely. But an insult to punctuate your act of kindness was a curveball.

Sitting up straight, he places his beer on the ground, an amused smile softening his features. “I’m a random man you’ve known for a couple of hours. I could do anything to you in your own home, and you don’t seem the slightest bit worried about that.”

Okay, maybe he has a massive point. You don’t know him and he could literally attack you at any moment. And considering earlier you had to assess him before approaching, it shows that you do have the common sense not to let him stay with you.

But he poses no threat, none whatsoever. He’s just a boy in a fucked up situation, and your kind heart can’t see him freeze; god knows how many nights he’s been out. He’s already reminiscent of Jack Dawson turning into a block of iced body parts.

“Well, you won’t right?” You throw the question back to him. “I mean, to be honest, I’ve let men in my bed for a lot less than a tiny conversation and a beer.” 

As soon as the words tumble out of your mouth, your cheeks flush to match his cold ones, neck tingling in embarrassment. You’ve just confessed that your standards are abysmally low - you’ve slept with men who didn’t even have the decency to buy you a drink nevermind learn your name.

Jaeyun stifles a laugh, rubbing at his eye. “For your pride, I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” The smile on his face is so beautiful that you’re caught off guard a little. Now you wish he was one of the men you let roll around on top of you for a compliment and a ride home.

His expression shifts, returning to a more serious note, though the smile lingers. “Seriously, Y/N. Thank you for the offer, but I only have” - he glances at his watch - “six hours before sunrise anyway.”

“Seriously, it’s no trouble-”

“I’m serious too,” he interrupts gently, slouching back into his seat. “You should go in. It’s cold, and after the day you’ve had, you need sleep.”

“I-”

“Y/N.” His tone is firm but not unkind. “I’m fine. Go. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

His refusal stings in a strange way, the rejection of your kindness more personal than it should feel. But you know better than to argue with someone so resolute. It never ends well. So, with a resigned nod, you down the last of your beer and stand.

“Okay,” you reply, setting the empty bottle aside. “I’m in 4A if you change your mind. I can grab some blankets? Pillows?”

Jaeyun places a hand over his heart, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly. But I promise I’ll survive.”

And so, you leave him there, your heart tugging at you to insist, to argue, to make him take shelter in your tiny flat. But your feet keep moving, respecting his wishes.

As you reach the door, you glance back one last time, the words caught in your throat. You just hope he’ll be okay.

_____

The rain lashes, jolting you awake. It’s not the pretty white noise rain that you enjoy, it sounds like hundreds of tiny little pebbles being pelted at your window. Strange. It was forecast as clear skies until at least Tuesday. 

You blink groggily, groaning at the interruption. You can’t have been asleep for more than two hours - if that. Begrudged, you turn your back to the outside, shielding yourself from the rain that cannot attack you. Yet, an unsettling feeling stews in the bottom of your stomach, the kind that makes your heart beat faster and your mouth gain moisture.

It’s not uncommon for you to have random spouts of anxiety, all your life you’ve suffered from it, but this isn’t your typical ‘my brain is going to bring up that one time I peed myself in primary 2 and had to be sent home’ anxiety. This is something more.

Fuck.

Jaeyun.

The thought hits you like a bolt of lightning and your body moves before your mind can catch up. You fling off your pastel pink duvet, slide your feet into your beloved fuzzy slippers, and throw on a housecoat to cover your half-naked form. If you had the right mindset and not half asleep and half in panic, you would have grabbed a rain jacket and some trainers instead.

Thought, without thinking about your own state, the chilly air cuts at your skin as you make your way to the roof. The rain, now mixed with hail, pelts down hard, each sting enhancing your concern. Your eyes roam around near the seated area, one of your hands shielding your eyes from the brutal hailstones, each one nipping your hand in anger. 

"Jaeyun?" you shout, your voice cutting through the storm, only to be drowned out by the constant rain. You get closer to the seats and see nothing. Panic overwhelms you, hot and stifling. "Are you still here?"

As you spin around, your eyes finally land on him. He’s slumped up against the rooftop enclosure which acts as a headboard to an uncomfortable concrete bed. His jacket and hoodie are doing as much to protect him as a candyfloss blanket, each soaked through and clinging to his skin. How can he sleep like this? It makes you wonder if he lied about just how long he had stopped couch-crashing and living out in the open.

Quickly, you drop to your knees beside him, ignoring the puddle that entrenchs your legs, and place your hand on his shoulder as you shake him awake. “Jaeyun?” you bellow, loud enough for him to startle awake and instantly put a guard up.

“Huh?” he mumbles, voice thick with confusion.

“Come on, I’m not leaving you up here,” you inform. This time, it isn’t a question but a demand. You have too much compassion to willingly leave him up here any longer.

Jaeyun’s eyes squint through his water-splattered glasses as he takes in your figure. “Y/N? What the fuck are you doing? You’re soaked,” he states the obvious, yet oblivious to his own state. “Go back inside.”

“Not without you,” you fire back. “Grab your things.”

“But-”

“Either that or I stay up here with you,” you cut him off, voice firm though only kindness shines through.

You can see the conflict in his face, his concern for your drenched state outweighing his stubbornness. He sighs, defeated, and finally nods. “Fine.”

If there is one thing Jaeyun hates to be is a burden, but it seems no matter what happens, he will inconvenience you in some way - might as well choose the drier option.

Standing upright, you extend a hand, offering him some help up, but he refuses. Instead, he grabs the duffle beside him and clumsily gets up, following you down and into your apartment.

As soon as he walks into the warmth, his bones leap with excitement and his shoulders relax in contentment. You flick on the lights which allows him a better view of your personal space. And it is exactly how he imagined it.

Your walls are covered in art and photos of you and your friends, lyric posters from bands he has never even heard of, and a shrine to TO1 in the corner. It’s cosy, lived in, and he feels a massive pang of envy. 

“You can use my shower,” you say while subconsciously tidying up, removing the cups and wine glasses that have piled on the coffee table. “Luckily for you, I like wearing guy’s clothes on my period so I’ll see what I can find to fit you.”

“Seriously, Y/N. I’ll just, dry off with a towel or something, No Stress.” He doesn’t like the fuss but he can’t deny he doesn’t feel a little fuzzy as you make space for him. 

Scoffing, you turn around with a perplexed look on your face. “A towel? Jaeyun, you’re soaked to the bone. You need a shower and then you can have a towel, okay?” 

A grateful grin adorns the boy’s face as he takes his shoes off. “Okay. Thank you, Y/N. Seriously.” Jaeyun nods, clutching his damp duffle as he trudges towards the bathroom. 

You point out the way, adding a quick, “Towels are on the rack, and there’s shampoo, soap, and more in there. Just use whatever you need, okay?” 

With another muttered thank you, he waddles to your bathroom, suddenly enthralled with how the night has panned out. It’s been a while since he had a decent shower, and the ones in the Uni’s lockeroom are made more for a quick wash down than a deep cleanse.

As he disappears into the bathroom, you let out a sigh, glancing around your apartment. It isn’t a mess by your standards, but you suddenly feel self-conscious about the clutter. Usually, when people are up, it’s those who are either only making their way to your bedroom or those who do not care and have known you long enough to understand that you like a bit of mess.

A messy home is a home loved.

The sound of running water echoes from the bathroom, and you take the moment to rummage through your wardrobe. You pull out a pair of joggies and an oversized hoodie that has seen you coming every cycle for the past three years. You can’t get much more comfort than these. They’ll be a bit loose on his slim frame, but they’re warm and dry.

Speaking of which, you glance down at your own rain-soaked state, grimacing. The slippers squelch faintly with each step, and the damp housecoat clings unpleasantly to your skin. Without hesitation, you pull out a baggy t-shirt and some old pyjama shorts, slipping into them after quickly drying off your hair with a towel that’s close by. It’s not inherently clean, but it serves its purpose, so that’s good for now.

Satisfied, you place the clothes Jaeyun will borrow on the sofa before heading to the kitchen. The kettle hums to life as the storm outside continues its symphony, the hail getting more dangerous and cutthroat. A hot cup of tea feels like just the thing to chase away the chill, after all, there’s little problems in life that a good cuppa can’t fix.

Just as you reach for the tea bags, the creak of the bathroom door pulls your attention.

Jaeyun steps out, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead, droplets of water glistening on his skin. A towel sits promiscuously low on his hips, and despite yourself, your gaze trails downward. The delicate silver chain around his neck catches the light, the cross pendant resting at eye level with his pretty brown nipples. Your eyes wander further, taking in the faint definition of his toned abs, the subtle dip hinting at a v-line. And his cock is outlined perfectly to give you an idea of his size and width but you can tell it still doesn’t do him justice. 

You realise with a jolt that your mouth is slightly open, and the train of your thoughts is taking a decidedly inappropriate detour. Heat rushes to your cheeks as your mind conjures up scenarios you’d never admit aloud. A pang of guilt follows swiftly - this boy has been through hell, and he’s come to you for solace, not to be gawked at.

“Sorry,” Jaeyun says, breaking the spell. His voice is soft, a mix of embarrassment and strange pride, as he catches your lingering stare. “I’ll get dressed. I just…didn’t know where the clothes were.”

“Oh!” You clear your throat and nod toward the sofa, purposefully keeping your gaze above his shoulders. “Yep, just there. Help yourself. I think they’ll fit.”

As he moves to retrieve the clothes, you busy yourself with literally anything else - studying the ceiling, adjusting the kettle, anything to avoid the moment and stop trying to catch glimpses of his cock. 

You don’t hear the rustling of clothes though, instead, you just hear yourself breathing, which piques your interest. Why isn’t he changing?

Subtly, your eyes glance over to him and then you see it, the look on his face as he stares at the clothes. You’ve had that look before too, the one that comes with the mixed feelings of disbelief, shame, sadness, hope, and every other conflicting emotion that arises when you’re down and out.

“Thanks,” he whispers, “For all of this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you reply, taking a few small steps forward. But Jaeyun shakes his head, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“No, really,” he insists. “I…I don’t think I’ve met someone as kind as you in a long time.” His voice breaks on the last word, and he quickly looks away, ashamed of the vulnerability slipping through. 

He has his friends, they are kind and generous much like yourself, but being kicked out of his own family has also shown him the darkest parts of humanity, the ones that he doesn’t let others know that he’s experienced. Truthfully, he’s just a scared boy who needs his family. 

The admission punches through your chest, leaving no room for hesitation. You glide over to him as your arms wrap gently around his shoulders. 

If a cuppa can fix most things, a hug can fix them all.

At first, he stiffens, unsure how to respond, but then he relaxes, his head lowering slightly against you.

“It’s okay,” you murmur softly. “You’re going to be okay. Maybe not right now, but soon.”

Jaeyun’s arms tentatively come up to return the embrace, and for a moment, the storm outside fades into irrelevance. His eyes close and for a change, he believes that it will be fine. This moment isn’t going to last forever, once the morning blooms, he’ll be out of your life and trying to get back on his feet, but he’s thankful for the reassurance and hope right now.

Pulling back slightly, his arms still lingering around you. His eyes, uncertain and yearning, flicker between your face and your lips. Then, without a second thought, he leans in and presses his lips to yours - a fleeting, hesitant kiss that seems to catch even him off guard. 

His lips retract from yours as he draws back, his face flushed with embarrassment and horror. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. Why the fuck would he kiss you without consent when you’ve been so kind towards him? He thinks. His hand twitches at his side, as though unsure whether to retreat or reach out again. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Would it make you feel better?” you interrupt gently, your voice soft but steady.

His brows furrow, confusion flickering across his features. “What?”

“Would it make you feel better?” you repeat, tilting your head slightly. There’s no judgment in your tone, no hesitation. “To kiss me?”

“Really, no, it’s okay-”

This time, you close the distance, your lips capturing his before he can finish the sentence. It’s slow, deliberate, a kiss that tells him you’re here for him despite still being strangers. His initial surprise melts into something deeper, something warmer, as he responds cautiously at first, then with more certainty.

It actually is making him feel better, the human connection, it’s nature's balm.

So he follows your lead, his arms tightening around your waist, holding you impossibly close as his hands splay over your back, covering most of the surface. The way his plump lips move against yours is magnetic, sucking and pulling you into his world. You’ve been kissed more times than you can count - shamelessly to say - but his mouth feels a little different; a little less icky than the others and a lot more like they’re meant to be on yours.

With that feeling charging your bloodstream, your hands fly up to his damp hair, craving to have him on each of your senses. You can’t get enough of him, his taste of beer from the numerous bottles he downed on the roof, the touch of his silky locks that are in need of a haircut, his scent of your strawberry milk body wash mixing in with his own musk, how he sounds when he growls into your mouth, showcasing that he’s just as desperate as you are for this. 

You need him…

Swiftly, your hands trail from his head, down his neck, your nails lightly scratching down his collarbones until you reach the veins just above where you were unabashedly looking not 10 minutes ago. 

Jaeyun pushes your ass against the sofa, bucking up into you, hips deliciously working to place your hand on his cock. God, it feels beautiful, even with the fluffy barrier. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moans deeply into your mouth, passing the need from himself into you. Your hand grips his covered shaft as you palm him teasingly. “Don’t do this if you don’t want to.” 

Honestly, he doesn’t want to say anything that will make this stop, his body pulsing with the desire to have you wrapped around him. But he also believes in consent, and while you both might be horny-induced 22-year-olds, you’re also strangers. 

Shaking your head adamantly, you grip his dick harder, smiling at the whimper it draws from him. “I want this, Jaeyun.”

“I suppose, men have been in your bed for a lot less, right?” he chuckles into your mouth. And while it could come across as an insult to some -  that he’s essentially throwing back your own slut-shaming dialogue from earlier -  you feel no degradation or malice behind his words. You can tell he’s playful, under all the dreary circumstances. He’s a boy who has light and laughter built into his DNA. 

Maybe it’s delusion, maybe it’s a soul connection, or maybe it’s the fact that you need to bounce on his cock within the next five minutes or you’ll perish that’s clouding your judgment. 

Either one, you let it slide.

So, playfully, you slap his chest and break the kiss. “Keep talking and you won’t get the chance to see my bedroom.”

“That’s okay, I can fuck you here,” he replies quick-witted, suddenly hoisting you up on the back of the couch, the wood and material digging into your ass not uncomfortably. 

You laugh and so does he, looking into each other’s eyes, and it all feels so right. 

Bringing your hand up to his face, you push his hair off of his forehead and reveal his eyes - the light from your living room dancing in his pupils, much like how they had been on the rooftop, but this time, there is an abundance of happiness that adds to the shine. 

“You’re so pretty,” you confess, that no-filter brain coming into full effect once again. Granted, a much better consequence of it. 

A faint, rose blush crawls across the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose, a bashful grin on his mouth. “Thank you. Personally, I think you’re prettier so…”

“Guess we can be pretty together, huh?”

“Pretty good together you mean?” 

Another laugh jumps out of you and you cup both his cheeks, the warmth of them comforting and worth cherishing. You peck his nose. “I should have known a pretty boy like you would be a charmer.”

He shrugs, kissing your nose back, not bothering to rebut. Instead, his hands guide your legs to wrap around him, hands finding your ass, and he lifts you up. You can’t ignore his cock now semi-hard pressing into you as he bounces you into a comfortable position.

Securing yourself, you circle your arms across his shoulders and kiss him once again, letting him lead you down your hallway, anticipation and greed passing through your breaths and tongues. 

“Which one?” he pants out, squeezing your ass as he does so.

“This one on the right,” you point half-arsed, too lost in the moment to give it a full thought. 

Awkwardly due to your wriggling body, Jaeyun opens the door, trying to view a path to which he can reach your bed without falling over your clutter. Shoes and more lay abandoned over your carpet, creating an obstacle, but one he refuses to lose. 

Jaeyun finally reaches your queen-sized bed and gently places you down, his cock pressing into you even more. 

It’s only then that he realises that along the way from your living room to your bedroom, his towel has fallen down, leaving his exposed cock rubbing against the fabric of shorts. “Jesus fucking christ.”

You look at him and see the pleasure on his face, biting his lips as his eyebrows knit together, rubbing against you again. It makes you giggle, you don’t know why, but he just brings it out of you.

The sound from your lips draws his attention back. “What?” he breathes out heavily, cock thumping with need as he humps you again.

“Maybe you should be inside of me while you thrust - kinda how this whole sex thing works,” you playfully jab, biting your lips together to stop from laughing. But he laughs for you, resting his forehead on your chest and shaking his head in amusement.

“Shut up, I’m just excited.”

“I can see that, yeah.”

It’s easy with him, you’re noticing, like you’ve somehow been in a relationship for years and you’ve just come home from a couples date with your married friends, two bottles of red wine consumed, and adoration palpable in the air. You have two dogs, maybe three if you can get your way, and you are the annoying pair that people hate to hang out with because your love for one another never dwindled, not even after all those years.

Maybe you shouldn’t be fantasising about a life with this random man you met on a roof, but that’s where your brain immediately goes each time you banter or giggle with one another.

He’s different.

Jaeyun stands up, letting you see his cock as he pumps it gently, getting it to full mass. The fact that it’s standing at 5 inches already and still growing causes an ache in your stomach. Fuck, it’s going to feel so good inside of you, your walls are already leaking out for it, staining your pyjama shorts. 

His hands grip your shorts and peel them off, hurriedly throwing them on the floor, only adding to the chaos. Your legs instinctively spread and the juices from your excitement gleam in the moonlight, looking like a ripe fruit just ready to be devoured.

And devoured it will be.

Hoisting you down, Jaeyun positions you at the end of the bed until your ass is almost hanging off, kneeling down between your thighs. Not exactly how you thought the turn of events was going, but you are the furthest from mad at it.

“You look so fucking delicious, Y/N.” Jaeyun’s comment makes you feel exposed but not in a bad way, yet, you still want to hide from him. As your legs try to close, he places his large hands on your thighs, shaking his head. “No, princess, the only way you're shutting your legs right now is if you’re clamping my head between them.”

“Jaeyun…” you whine, both at the petname and his breath ghosting over your hardened clit, making it weep again - much to Jaeyun’s delight.

“I know, princess. You need it, huh?” Jaeyun whispers, kissing up your inner thigh and around the area you crave him most. 

The heat in the room is electric, any cold you both felt from the rain now disappeared from your bones and replaced with scorching intensity. Your hips follow the blow of his breath in search of connection but he simply places a chaste kiss on your clit before pulling away, a smirk on his face as he sees you whimper and squeak.

“You make the prettiest noises when you’re desperate, Y/N,” he gloats, though it’s prideful and not arrogant. He means it, and that’s why he keeps teasing you softly, puckering at your folds and giving you just enough to have you humping the air and arching into him.

“I’m never letting you use my shower again,” you laugh in discontentment, your arm flying across your face as you hide in the comfort of your bicep. 

Jaeyun huffs a laugh, echoing your own amusement before he speaks. “I know, I’m being so mean considering you’ve been so kind, huh? You’re just so cute when you’re like this.”

“I’m about to become a bitch if you don’t do something,” you warn lightly, peaking down to look at him under your arm.

“Well, I better get to it then right?”

And with that, his thick tongue stripes up your folds, gathering and savouring your wetness. Your back arches off the bed and pushes just enough onto him that his nose catches your clit. “Fuck!” you bellow. 

The tip of his tongue searches for your nub, and once it hits the spot and your hands fly to his hair, his lips suction around it, almost making out with it. 

He’s not real you think to yourself. You can’t help the jealousy that rises inside of you as your brain works overtime to imagine just how many girls he has had to go down on for him to be this good at eating you out. If there was ever such a thing as a pussy eating contest, you know he would win hands down because he’s already got you chanting his name, punctuated by profanities. 

“Right there, Jaeyun…fuck…” 

His pride swells and he grows more confident, tongue flicking quickly over your button as he drools over your cunt. It’s safe to say that Jaeyun loves pussy. If he could have it morning, noon, and night, and elevensies, he would without hesitation. Especially yours. The taste of your tang and sweetness is enough to put him in a frenzy, long forgetting about his aching cock and focusing solely on drinking you up.  

He humps the air though, as he always does, resembling a dog in heat as he slabbers and grunts into your cunt. He nibbles at your clit and soothes it with his wet muscle, a smile plastered on his face with each movement - your noises urging him on.

He brings his middle and ring finger to your pulsating hole as it clenches around nothing, deciding to give you some more relief. As he plunges in, you scream out in joy, an open-mouthed smile on your face as coherent words get lost in your throat. You clearly don’t get eaten out as often as you deserve, and that just spurs Jaeyun on more to be the best you’ve ever had.

“So wet for me, princess. Taste so fucking good I want to be here for hours.”

And while that sounds nice in theory, you need him inside of you now. His fingers, thick and beautiful, are nice for now, but that 6-inch, throbbing cock is calling your name. So, you pull him away much to your pussy’s weeping plea for him to keep going, his mouth covered in your slick which is perhaps the most beautiful sight you have ever seen -  and you’ve seen the Northern Lights on a crisp autumn morning. 

His fingers never stop though, just curling inside of you slowly, beckoning your climax still. “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern weaving in his tone.

Sitting up on your elbows, you smile and pant, trying to maintain a steady voice while the tip of his fingers presses against your soft spot inside, jaw slacking each time he holds it for a little longer. “I need your cock so back, Jaeyun. I’m so serious.” The words are desperate and real, shamelessly desperate. 

“You sure you don’t want to cum right now? I can do it.” It’s not like he can’t make you cum over and over again anyway. 

Shaking your head, you sit up, hunching over to cup his face. “Please. I really need you to fuck me.”

A primal desire flickers past Jaeyun’s eyes and a quick nod tells you that he needs it too. His cock jumping for joy at the thought of being enveloped in your tight cunt. So, he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, pulling on a show as his tongue weaves through his digits, wide eyes looking up at you with sheer longing. It stirs something inside of you, something that suddenly makes you want to grow a cock and have him choke on it. 

But you quickly shake those thoughts, pulling him up by his hair and kissing him deeply. His tongue now tastes of you and you are so glad you love sweet juices and decided that for the past three weeks, cranberry spritz has been your favourite. 

Jaeyun makes quick hands of stripping you of your t-shirt, leaving you both naked and clawing at one another. 

“You got condoms?” he asks between kisses, trailing down your neck as his hands grip your hips so tightly that the skin turns white. 

But you don’t want that. You want to feel him. Raw and unfiltered. Is it stupid? Of course, it is. But some would say letting him inside your home never mind inside your body is already wreckless, so, what’s another reckless abandonment on your list tonight?

“No. No condom, please,” you mumble against his hair as you kiss the top of his head, your conditioner filling your senses.

Jaeyun freezes his mouth and darts up, eyes seeking yours to make sure he heard you right. “Huh?”

“No condom. I’m on the pill,” you stroke his cheek tenderly, “Please, Jaeyun. Do this with me just once, yeah?”

For some reason, that ‘just once’ pangs in the boy’s chest and he hates the feeling more than anything. He doesn’t want this to be once, he wants this to be again, and again, and then some more. Jaeyun isn’t one to believe in fate but considering he chose your flat complex rooftop out of all the others in the city, and it decided to pour down - even though it’s been dry for the past two weeks - which led to you coming to get him and practically drag him into your home; he would say that doesn’t happen by chance. 

Although, instead of getting in his head, he agrees, lust overpowering his responsibility to be safe. “I want it too, so fucking badly,” he leans down, rubbing his leaking cock on your slit, mouth moving to your ear. “I can’t wait to cum inside you, fill you up and make you suck me in.”

Does he know where this confidence came from? Perhaps it was the way you whispered into the air his name over and over again how good you felt while he ate your pretty little cunt, or maybe it's the fact that if this is your only time under him, he will damn make sure you’re thinking about him for the rest of your life.

The heels of your feet move with his ass as he gyrates his hips, allowing his cock to snag on your clit and elicit a hiss from both of you. Your lips messily leave open-mouth kisses over any skin that you can reach; his neck, cheek, lips, forehead, all of it, the feeling of his glistening skin on your lips addicting.

“Please, Jaeyun. Fuck me. Right. Now.”

Your pleading snaps him into full throttle, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance, his bell expanding and contracting as he slips inside of you. Your groans of pleasure harmonise in the winter night, both your bodies connecting fully as he bottoms out slowly, balls meeting your ass as he pushes in to the hilt.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, burying his face in your neck, and you lock him in there, fisting his hair and bucking your hips for friction. He fills you up so good you wonder why humans are born empty and not with a permanent cock up their pussy. 

You never want him to leave.

“Move, Yunnie, please.” The tone of your voice doesn’t carry much conviction but portrays your desperation for him. The nickname falling off your cock-drunk tongue much to his happiness. If anyone ever calls him Yunnie again, and it overtakes the way you whimper it out, he will commit murder. Only you can call him that, call him whatever you want, call him by his name, ever again.

Obeying your wishes, he begins to pull back his hips and move them painfully slow back into you, feeling each bump of your walls and how they meld perfectly with the veins of his fat cock. 

While he loves savouring the moment of you taking him in, feeling how your hole adapts to his girth and length, creating way just for him. “Faster, Yunnie. God, please.”

“Asking God to help get what you want is crazy considering it’s me you should be begging,” he chuckles, never increasing his pace. 

“Shut up, please,” you whine out, grabbing his ass and trying to physically move him to speed up.  

“You can ask me to shut up but not beg me to move faster?” he tuts, going even slower, “C’mon, princess. Ask me nicely.”

You want to slap him, a dry laugh coming from your throat as you fight between your pride - telling you never to do as a man says - and your need for him to start jackhammering into you. 

Well, you suppose you can let your pride have a night off for a chance.

“Jaeyun, please, move faster. I’m begging you. Fuck me faster and harder.”

Those sweet yet filthy words send Jaeyun into orbit, and he grants your prayers. With his hands pushing down your hips, he begins to thrust with ferocity, the tip of his cock not punching into your cervix. It’s much more delicious than you ever could have imagined, the way he snaps into your cunt with no restraint, your pussy taking a beating in the best way possible. 

This is heaven.

“Yes, Jaeyun! Yes! Don’t fucking stop, please.” 

And stop he does not. In fact, he lifts your legs over his shoulders and folds you in half, the new angle somehow reaching so deep you can feel him poking your stomach. You have never felt this good in your life. A cock has never made your brain turn to mush or made your hands literally peel the skin from your partner’s back before, yet here you are, chanting incoherent words into his ear and clawing up his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, princess. Taking my cock so well.” Jaeyun breathes into your neck, nipping at your skin and he marks you right back. His praise makes you smile, kissing all over his face in appreciation for the pleasure he is giving you right now. “Such a good girl, Y/N.”

You could cum that minute, and he feels how you clench around him, sucking him in further, making him tip his head back and move even faster. He wants you to cum together, and with how good your pussy feels, he isn’t far from it.

“You sure you want me to cum inside?” he asks again, trying to gauge whether you could have changed your mind. But you grip his hair and stare into his eyes. 

“If you don’t, I’ll kick you out back into the rain.”

Jaeyun laughs. Hard. Your threat is meaningless because you clearly would never leave him out there again to drown in the winter hail, but it does get your point across. You don’t just want his cum, you need it. And luckily for you, he is happy to oblige. 

So, with your consent, he works on getting you both to the edge, his right hand coming down to your clit and rubbing it in smooth circles, a juxtaposition to his harsh thrusts. And you begin to see stars, constellations, as you arch your back and wriggle under him. The coil in your tummy burns with the insatiable pull. 

“I’m cumming! Yunnie, I’m cumming,” you warn, happiness filtering the air as you buck your hips and match the rhythm of his shaft penetrating you. “Cum with me. Please, baby.”

Baby

His balls tighten at the petname and groans loudly. “Call me that again.”

“Baby, cum inside me,” you repeat within a moan, forcing your eyes open to lock onto his. “Cum with me.”

And just like that, with the final clench of your walls around him, he spurts his white seed inside of you, a primal roar escaping his lips as each rope coats your canal. You cum with him, his name falling from your lips over and over again as you chant out in hymn. 

“Squeeze it, princess. Take it all like you want.” He validates you without ridicule, a grin of glee etching onto his face as his body shakes with the euphoria he feels. You were right, cumming inside of you is much better than a condom.

After a while, both your hearts begin to slow down and his body collapses onto yours. His lips lazily kiss your sweaty skin on the top of your breast, your fingers threading through his now dry hair, the only wetness coming from persperation. Its intimate, despite the newness of the situation, and you can’t help but plaster a smile on your face.

It feels so right.

And you’re not the only one who believes so.

Jaeyun gathers some strength to lean on his arm, cupping your face as he strokes your cheek. “Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” His voice is wavering due to exhaustion, but it’s overshadowed by sincerity. 

Placing your hand over his, you titter slightly, the sound making Jaeyun’s stomach knot and cock pulse inside you once again. “You mean having sex or staying in my house and abusing my shower privileges?”

“Both.” He murmurs earnestly, pinching your cheek. “I also want you to abuse my shower…when I get one.” The last part of that sentence falters slightly, his voice dipping as if suddenly comping back into his reality.

But you won’t let him dwell in it. Instead, you reach up to kiss him gently, lips expressing the reassurance you worry your words might not. And it seems to do the trick because, in an instant, he’s kissing you back with passion, taking each swipe of your tongue against his as confirmation that you want to have this again and see where it goes. 

It could lead to nothing but it could lead to everything.

And he needs to find out.

[luveline]

hii can you please write about Hotch adoring the reader at night as she's sleep talking sweet things please please?? love you!

The first thing he does when he gets home that night is pop his head into Jack’s room. He wants to go in and kiss his forehead, or maybe hold his hand, but he’s worried he’ll wake him and it’s nearing three in the morning, so he whispers, “Love you,” and heads to the master bedroom. 

You’re sleeping not dissimilar to Jack, on your back, the sheets pulled up to your turned head. Aaron moves away from you reluctantly to get undressed and change into soft sleep clothes. He cleans his face and brushes his teeth, and when he returns to you, you’ve curled your arm over where he should be as though you’d sensed his homecoming. 

He shuffles to you in the dark. Pulls back the sheets, and slides under your arm. He finds your hand to hold and brings it slowly to his lips, letting your hand rest over his mouth indulgently. 

He closes his eyes.

After a short case like this one, he isn’t tired enough to forget how much he misses you. If it had been a week away, Aaron would’ve come home and collapsed knowing he’s back with you, and that you’re going to look after him, but it’s only been two days. All he needs now is a kiss.

“Miss you.” 

He clasps his hand over yours, takes your hand to his chest to see you without obstacle. “I missed you, too,” he whispers, though he squints at you after. You aren’t facing him. “Honey?” 

“Aaron…” 

“Yeah, it’s me. You okay?” 

You rub your nose into your pillow and make a nonsense sound. 

Oh, he thinks to himself. Is she…

“D’you– did you have dinner?” 

“Are you awake or not?” he asks. 

No answer. You can’t be awake, then. You’re talking in your sleep, silly disjointed murmurings, your voice like velvet despite the late hour. 

Aaron hasn’t woken you with his questions, so he assumes you’re sleeping deeply. He shuffles further into the bed, onto his side, and wraps an arm around you. Careful in the dark, his nose comes to rest against your cheek.

“Well, we can try again tomorrow.”

“Shh,” he says softly, “shh, honey.” 

“‘Cos of the time,” you mumble.

He breathes in your skin. This is nice, he supposes, sitting and listening to your voice. You don’t even have to wake up. Aaron must spend half an hour listening to you talk yourself, or whoever it is that’s opposite you in the dream. It’s okay, we can fix it. I don’t know what colour that is. It’s Jack’s book. The book. And then your dog will come home. 

He’s nearly sleeping when it runs back to him. “My hubs,” you mumble, hand suddenly alive where it twists under his arm to return his hug. “Miss my hubs.” 

Aaron laughs in earnest. He’s never heard you call him such a thing. “Missed my wife,” he says, giving your cheek a quick kiss. “Love you.” 

“Miss him… want him to rub my back.” 

Your whining is adorable. Aaron pulls you bodily onto his chest and begins to rub your back, smiling, happy to indulge your sleepy nonsense with whatever it is you’re craving. “How’s that?” he murmurs. 

You don’t talk again for a while, but when you do, you say, “He needs to feed the fish,” and Aaron’s left wondering what exactly it is that you and Jack have been up to this weekend. 

[kyseya]

The creation

Imagine being the daughter of a wealthy family in the 1800s. Life was strict for you. You didn’t have much freedom and your only goal in life is to become a perfect wife. Your salvation was your brother. He stood up against your parents and helped you when no one else would. Without him you’d be even more lost.

Your brother is a genius. It seems like there is nothing he can’t do. Apart from creating life, that is. You love your brother so much, but there is a side to him you wished he could just abandon. Your whole life you’ve known him and during all that time he’s been obsessing over the topic of ‘life’ in all its forms.

He wants to uncover all its secrets and unlock the ultimate knowledge; to the point of sacrificing himself. That is how obsessed he is. You thought this research would be his downfall. But one day he did it, he created life!

Yandere! Creation who knows how hideous he is. It was no secret after all; both his creation and his scarring appearance. It was not pleasing to the eye. He wished he could forget about it and go on about his day, but it is hard when your creator reminds you every now and then.

Yandere! Creation who was introduced to you one day. His master made it a point to treat you with outmost care and respect, he would not tolerate any other behaviour. He didn’t want to face any punishment so he agreed.

Yandere! Creation who, at first, only treated you well because that was his instructions. But after getting to know you, he realised you deserved every bit of good in the world. You were so bright, almost like the sun itself(the one he wasn’t allowed to see). You were so kind to him. You spoke gently to him and never raised your voice, even during the moments where he did mess up. His master was never outright cruel, but he certainly wasn’t the warmest person. He looked at him like the creation he was. He was not a friend, not a family member, and he would never be.

You were the only one who acted as if he was a real person. You gave him the warmth he sought after but could receive. If he felt sad about his existence, you were there and let him use your as a pillow to cry on. You would hold him and softly comfort him. Not only that, you fought with your brother for his freedom. He didn’t deserve to be contained like some infectious desease.

Yandere! Creation who couldn’t help but fall for you. You didn’t act as if he was a monster, a creature, a being. He felt like a person whenever he was with you. He didn’t have to remember that he’s just parts stitched together into a horrid being.

Yandere! Creation who does everything to be able to spend more time with you. He is far from stupid and he knows how to manipulate situations in his favour. To be honest, he is a bit surprised how many of his antics flies under the radar of his master. The so-called genius might not be the smartest after all.

He loves using his super strength to assist you with different chores. Need someone to accompany you to the market? He’s on it! He’ll carry the stuff for you and fend off any unwanted attention. The men in the village are nothing short of pigs, so you should have someone protecting you. Can’t reach the high shelf? He’ll take down anything you can’t reach. There is no reason for you to strain yourself.

Yandere! Creation who wonders if you’d be happy being his wife?

[foldingfittedsheets]

I am a little creature largely made up of anxieties. There have been times in my life when it was worse. It’s currently significantly better. This story takes place at a time when it was pretty bad.

Food was a prison for me. I moved out early with very little idea of how to feed or care for myself. Every meal was a question mark. For three years I had Brendan doing most of the cooking but when things ended between us I moved in with some other friends. I suddenly had no way to feed myself again.

I was working at the sex shop and living with all my coworkers; a premise that would make sitcom writers weep. In that house, at the age of 24, I learned how to fry an egg. It was the only thing I knew how to do but by god, I mastered egg frying. I was so proud. I could now have one stress free meal a day of an egg on toast.

The problem was my roommates. Living with three other people is already tough but messes pile up alarmingly fast, especially in the kitchen. No one sees the whole mess as their responsibility but the one person who’s responsibility it absolutely wasn’t was mine, as I only ever cooked eggs. Glaciers moved quicker than the dishes got done, mountains of greasy unwashed dish ware were fixtures across the counters.

My friends occasionally cooked for me and each time I happily cleaned all the resulting dishes. This seemed fair.

But on my own I only used three implements for my egg. When I finished with my spatula, pan, and plate, I carefully washed them and set them to dry. Every time I came back to the kitchen there was nothing clean.

Crusted on ketchup, dried food, and unsavory residues plagued everything I needed to touch. So I ended up doing all the dishes twice, once to use my three implements and again once I was done.

I started to realize I’d come home, see the filthy pile of dishes, then go to bed without eating because I didn’t have the energy to wash it all. So I finally addressed my roommates about it. Please, I beseeched them, can these three things always be clean. I cannot function like this, and eating is already hard for me.

The answer returned: no. My request was deemed unreasonable and a counteroffer was made to turn off the small space heater I ran in my room in exchange for them magnanimously cleaning up after themselves. I declined, as my bones ached with cold everywhere except my room since no one else wanted the heat on. The impasse continued. I went to be hungry.

I noodled on it. I schemed. I plotted. And on my day off I went to a thrift shop and acquired a nice little pan and spatula. I squirreled them away into my closet. The plan was just to wash and dry it after meals and keep it in my room.

This is not how it went down. On day one of my pan coming home one of my roommates popped into my room to chat, glanced into my three quarters shut closet and immediately said, “What is that?”

I sighed and admitted my plan. All three roommates roundly condemned my plan as extremely passive aggressive. I tried once again to explain that I wasn’t eating, but my secret pan was now a source of contention, a precious resource held back from the collective.

Their discontent reached a fever pitch and I finally declared, “Fine! I will put my pan in the kitchen. On one condition. If I ever find this pan dirty, ever, I will scrape whatever is left on it into your bedding. I swear to god, if I ever come home to it being dirty there will be a reckoning.”

Terms were agreed.

The first month or two went okay. On the third month I awoke to eat breakfast and found my precious pan sullied. I grabbed it and marched upstairs. Betty was named as the culprit. I strode into Betty’s room and stood over her sleeping form like the vengeful ghost of dishes past.

“If you don’t get up and clean this right now I’m going to dump it on your bed.”

Betty groggily regarded me. “Seriously?”

“I have never been more serious.”

“It’s one time, can’t you just clean it yourself?”

“No. You promised.”

With much huffing and grousing Betty arose from bed and tromped downstairs, hastily cleaning my pan while I watched. “Happy?” She demanded.

I was. I made my egg, cheerfully cleaning the pan afterward, leaving it to dry.

[floatyflowers]

Hi! Big fan of your books!

If your taking any request rn can you please make a romantic white king head cannon for your Disney master list?

I really hope that we see a lot more of him in your yandere Disney book!

Dark Male! White King X Alice's Mother! Reader

You are the mother of Alice, and after her sudden disappearance, you search for her until you accidentally fall down a rabbit hole and find yourself in Wonderland.

Desperate to find your daughter, you wander through Wonderland’s strange, ever-changing landscapes only to meet the White King.

He helps you in reuniting with your daughter and even allow you two to stay at his castle.

Right now, you and Alice’s stood before the White King, his alabaster figure glowing in the soft light of his grand hall.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," you say, your voice filled with sincere gratitude.

"You’ve been most kind to us, but it’s time we return home."

The White King’s light coloured eyes narrowed slightly, the corner of his lips curling into a polite yet unreadable smile.

"Home?" he repeated, his voice smooth as silk.

"My dear lady, you are already home. Why wander back to a world so mundane when you could remain here, where beauty and wonder know no bounds?"

Alice looked up at you, her wide eyes betraying an awe at the idea of staying in Wonderland.

You shook your head, your grip on your daughter's hand tightening.

"We’re grateful for your hospitality, truly, but I have a husband waiting for me and Alice."

The White King’s serene expression faltered for a brief moment before solidifying into something colder, sharper.

"A husband?" he echoed, his tone laced with disdain. He stepped closer, his towering figure casting a shadow over you.

"Surely you jest, no man could ever care for you or Alice as I would, you belong here, with me, I will make you my queen, and your daughter shall have a life of luxury as a princess."

"No, I-"

The White King places a finger on your lips, his whimsical smile appearing.

"The potion should work now."

When you realise what he meant by potion, it was already too late, as you have fallen unconscious into his arms.

The white king picks you up into his arms, before looking down at Alice.

"Now come, Alice, we should bring your mother to her bed."

[dreamauri]

♪ —𝗖𝗔𝗡'𝗧 𝗕𝗘 𝗙𝗔𝗥 lando norris x  girlfriend! reader (fluff) fic summary . . . the world might just end if Lando is 0.0001 centimetre away from you, it's his perfect excuse to stick to your side (780 words)

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests )

Lando Norris was always a little . . . extra when it came to affection, but recently, he’d taken clinginess to a whole new level. The 2024 Formula One season has come to an end and the boy couldn’t seem to tolerate being more than a few centimetres away from you for even a second. And it was adorable, if not a little exhausting.

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon, and the two of you were lounging on the couch. You’d been absentmindedly scrolling through your phone, a habit you’d fallen into whenever Lando was in one of his needy moods. Of course, "needy" here was just his cute way of saying, "I can't live without your touch, don't ever leave me."

You sighed, setting your phone down beside you and stretching an arm above your head. "Alright, Lando, I’m gonna get up for a minute. I need a snack," you announced, attempting to gently slip your hand out of his, which had been securely holding yours for the past fifteen minutes.

Lando’s head immediately snapped up from your shoulder, a puppy-doll-eyes-like pout already forming on his lips. “What? No!” His fingers curled around yours more tightly. “Stay. Please?”

“Lando, I’m hungry,” you tried, gently pulling away again, but he wasn’t having it. He threw a dramatic arm across your body, pulling you back toward him with a grumble.

“You’re being rude,” he whined, squishing his face into the side of your neck. “I can’t let you go that far.” His voice was all soft and pitiful now, and his grip tightened again.

You laughed, trying to free yourself. “I just need five minutes, Lando. I’ll be right back!”

“You’re breaking my heart,” he murmured dramatically, pressing his cheek against your shoulder and sighing deeply, like he was about to start composing a song about lost love.

You tried to get up again, but this time, he didn’t let go. Instead, he slid into your lap, his head resting comfortably against your stomach as if this was his rightful place. “Can’t you just stay with me for, like, two seconds more?” His voice was small, almost childlike.

You giggled, running your fingers through his hair, something he adored. “You’re such a baby, Lando,” you teased, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

“I’m not a baby,” he muttered, though the way he nuzzled into your lap said otherwise. “I just like being close to you.”

You smiled and stroked his hair, shifting slightly so you could grab a nearby blanket. But as soon as you moved even an inch, he whined, a noise that could’ve been mistaken for a distressed puppy. “Where are you going now?”

“I’m just . . . making us more comfortable.” You wrapped the blanket around both of you, trying to get cozy, but Lando wasn’t content with anything less than full body contact. He scooted closer, practically climbing into your side, laying his head on your chest now, his arms wrapped around your waist.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the fond smile spreading across your face. “Lando, you are impossible.”

“You love it,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. His voice was muffled from the warmth of your chest, but it didn’t hide the mischievous grin on his face.

“I do,” you admitted softly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “But I’m not sure how much more I can take of you trying to suffocate me with affection.”

Lando giggled, clearly pleased by your admission. “I don’t care. You’re mine, and I’m never letting go. Not even when you’re asleep.”

“Lando, you literally steal my blanket at night,” you sighed, but there was no malice in your voice.

He gave a dramatic sigh in return, finally giving you a bit of space but only so he could rest his head on your lap, looking up at you with those wide, pleading eyes. “I can’t sleep without you. You’re my favorite pillow.”

“I thought I was your favorite human,” you teased, running your fingers through his hair.

“Exactly,” he grinned, his arms creeping around your waist once more. “So, you’re my favorite pillow. And my favorite person. And my favorite everything.”

You chuckled, your heart melting as you leaned down and kissed him. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you stay glued to me . . . just for a bit longer.”

“Thank you,” he said dramatically, resting his cheek on your lap like it was his throne. “I’ll never leave you alone again . . . well, except for when I’m racing.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, knowing full well that even then, he'd find some way to sneak his hand into yours during cool-downs or post-race interviews. Because Lando? He never really let go.

[tac-the-unseen]

how slasher reacts that s/o is rude and hot-tempered with everyone but with him he becomes sweet and kind ?? (pleaseee do Tommy)

Slashers x Rude Reader

Micheal Myers:

•Honestly whatever

•He thinks it's a little funny when you're sassy or bitchy with people

•He chill with almost whatever you do

•Loves feeling like He's the only person in your world (He's toxic like that)

•giving only him your affection sends every happy chemical to his brain

•No matter what your relationship, He wants to be the only one

Billy loomis & Stu macher:

•You give these boys whiplash

•One second you're yelling at somebody, and the next you're giggling and laughing with them

•However watching you blow up at a guy for flirting with you is enough to make them stay

•If you're also a Ghostface, they're putting you on phone duty. They love your sassy one-liners

•They both back you up all the time, whether you're wrong or right

•these boys are real ride or dies (You did watch the movie right?)

Thomas Hewitt:

•Confused

•He has no idea how you can switch up so fast

•He loves how kind you are to him, But watching you be mean to everybody else makes his head spin

•On one hand he loves being around you, and you are truly his best friend. On the other, he doesn't know How you even became friends in the first place at times

•Your smile is enough to remind him though

•But he also knows that your mouth is going to get you in trouble, So he's double protective

Bubba Sawyer:

•Another case of whiplash

•But at least you get to stand up and fit in with his brothers

•they're the rudest people he knows, So at least he knows that you're truly part of the family

•And someone has to tell the cashier he ordered no pickles, And it's not going to be him

•Loves seeing your ‘soft’ side (It makes him feel special and trusted)

Bo Sinclair:

•Loves it

•Couldn’t be more proud

•Watching you snap at travelers is enough to put hearts in his eyes

•He cheers you on while you verbally brawl with others

•Sometimes wishes you're that bitchy with him (But then he remembers all the people you made cry, and prefers not to be on that receiving end)

Vincent Sinclair:

•A little unsettled by the deja vu he gets

•You remind him so much of his brother that it bothers him to a degree

•Then you're so sweet to him and he forgets that feeling for a while

•However he will have a mini crisis by how many rude people are in his life….or were

•Asks you to try and be a little nicer to people, while also giving you permission to have screaming matches with Bo (You leave poor Lester out of it!)

Lester Sinclair:

•He kind of needs someone to stand up for him

•someone has to set his brother's straight, and it sure ain't going to be him

•views you like a guard dog

•He's so grateful for it too

•Tries to repay you by taking you the scenic routes if you tag along with him for work

Billy Lenz:

•Whenever he's fed up he hands you the phone line

•Another slasher that cheers you on

•Scream at the sorority girls all you want, no matter what he'll be behind you with imaginary pom-poms

•And when you turn around and look at him with affection, it makes him melt

•Will be snuggled up to your mid section with you curse a bitch out

•If you literally weren't the only person in his life, you'd be a little concerned that you are his comfort person

Brahms Heelshire:

•as long as you're not rude to him, whatever

•kind of loves it, but will not admit it

•It makes him less prone to jump out and grab people

•Will still snatch a hoe if needed, but he loves to watch you take care of ‘pests’

•Sassing the grocery Boy is a sure way to get Brahms to do whatever you want

•It just makes him feel secure, heard, and understood

Hannibal Lecter:

•Be honest with yourself

•You do not have Will Graham privileges

•You're going in the soup

•om nom nom nom 😋

Will Graham:

•another case of: whatever don't care

•(Not) The rudest couple in town

•You've both mastered the “Bitch Please” Look

•Hannibal tries telling Will that you are bad influence, Will doesn't listen and does not care

•you're as sweetest can be to him and feed his puppies, that is enough for him

The Lost Boys:

•You fit right in

•What other possible qualifications would you need to have to join the residential sassy vampire biker club??

•Watching you curse out a clumsy Tourist makes their day

•David Loves to stand back and watch you ruin a sleazy dudes day

•Dwayne tries to reel you in when you go to far, but will mostly let you do your thing

•Paul and Marko Are your personal cheerleaders through and through! Right or wrong!

•But walking around the boardwalk, terrorizing tourists, spending time together in the cave, and overall spending time with them Really solidifies your place in the gang!

Thanks for Reading!

[lovelybluebirdie]

Something to care for

Astarion x f!Reader

Summary: Astarion seeks comfort when he is terrified of losing you to his former master.

Word Count: 2,1k

hurt/comfort, angst and fluff

[ AO3 ]

Fleeting glances across the tavern, jovial laughter followed by a touch to his arm, and Astarion has exactly what he needs. Your trust builds fast over his charming words, so you agree to accompany him to the mansion without doubting his intentions. 

Astarion dissociates, follows his usual routine as he has done for over hundreds of years by now, while you remain blissfully unaware that you are already caught in his trap.

The scene feels painfully familiar, and yet it doesn't at all.

Uneasiness spreads over him. 

No, this doesn't seem right. 

Why are you here?

The next moment you lie on his old master’s bed, your eyes closed and shallow breaths emitting your lungs. A dark silhouette is bending over you, its mouth glued to your neck. 

Cazador.

Panic creeps down Astarion's spine.

No, this isn't right at all.

His thoughts start to race. He needs to free you from this monster's claws - now.

Cazador looks up as his lips form a hideous grin, blood running from his chin and spluttering on your motionless body.

“A very pleasant bouquet you have brought to me, boy. But you know of that already, do you not?”

Astarion freezes.

The malice in his voice shatters his ribs with the blow of an axe.

He wants to scream, to get you away from here, but his body doesn’t respond. 

Suddenly the whole scene shifts and Astarion finds himself with his fangs buried deep inside your neck, warm liquid pouring in his mouth while your hand rests loosely on his nape. 

An unbearable dread rises in him.

He desperately tries to tear himself away, to stop feeding on you, but an invisible force holds him down, leaving it impossible to let go. 

He must be going mad.

“You sought out to drink from thinking creatures, did you not? Go on then, lavish yourself on her blood! Bleed her dry.”

Cazador’s command unleashes like a fist to his skull.

Astarion knows that he is enjoying this, and it makes him sick. 

He concentrates back on you, frantically looking for a way to get you out of this. 

“It's alright, Astarion…” you whisper. “I know this isn’t… you.” You seem on the verge of fainting, the hand that rested in his hair slipping, your pulse weakening.

The fondness in your words almost breaks him.

He wishes to plead, to offer himself - to give Cazador everything he demands, if only he would allow you to leave unharmed, but he can’t speak.

Instead, he feels Cazador’s violent grip push him down, ramming his teeth deeper in your neck.

Astarion’s eyes wet and his body trembles while he’s obliged to swallow more of your blood. The thick liquid spills over his lips onto your neck, drips to your hair and paints the collar of your blouse.

Astarion knows that he’s hurting you, killing you, yet he has no control over his own doing. He can't stop, even if his whole body longs for nothing more than to release you.

His senses start to dull, colourful dots exploding before his eyes, while he’s unable to form a single coherent thought anymore, entirely helpless to this monstrosity he inflicts on you.

“What’s the matter, boy?” his former master taunts with a malignant chuckle and positions himself so that Astarion has to look at him. “Isn’t this what you craved? To be free of me, to do as you please?"

His laugh evolves to a gruesome crescendo, echoing through the dreary halls that Astarion once called his home - mocking him, a punishment for his disobedience.  

Astarion summons his remaining strength to banish Cazador from his mind and fixates back on you. 

He must save you, now, otherwise you will -

*

Astarion's lungs are on fire. His fangs ache, and his chest is bursting.

He grasps his throat and chokes as he remembers the taste of your blood in his mouth. 

Gods, what has he done to you?

He takes a moment to perceive his surroundings.

This is not Cazador’s mansion, he realises, but your shared tent in the camp you made near Rivington.

The essence of his nightmare returns with agony: his fangs piercing your neck, Cazador’s order to bleed you dry, while you were completely defenceless against his torment. The image is almost too much to bear.

With haste, he begins to fumble the woollen fabric of his bedroll in search of your warm body. He has to ensure that you are alive - that he didn’t hurt you.

Then his hand finds your wrist and he stops in his motion. He pushes the fright that shrouds him aside and feels for your pulse, careful not to wake you. There it is - a constant throb at his fingertips. 

Despite the evidence that the violent scene was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, he can’t bring himself to fully accept that there wasn’t an actual threat - that you are safe. Yet he has no desire to worry you with his musings, so he starts to slowly pull his hand away, before he notices that it’s already too late. You sit up beside him, rubbing sleep from your tired eyes. 

You look so adorable that his chest grows tight. 

“Astarion? Are you alright?” Your brow furrows when your gaze meets his, concern lingers in your voice.

Astarion opens his mouth, only to press it shut again as he feels hot tears forming in his eyes. He swallows hard. He wants to reassure you that it’s nothing, to tell you that you should go back to sleep, but the ferocity he committed in his nightmare robs him of any speech. 

You give him an understanding expression and lift your blanket. “Do you want to come over here?”

He nods and shifts towards you.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him into a tight embrace. Astarion sinks his head onto your chest and listens carefully to your heartbeat - to make sure you are truly unscathed. That he didn't kill you, didn't bleed you dry - that he has not become like Cazador.

The pulsing sound flows in a soothing rhythm. 

He closes his eyes and inhales your familiar scent. The weight that is crushing his lungs slowly begins to dissolve. 

You are so warm, he thinks, so comforting, always so affectionate.

“It’s alright,” you breathe and rest your lips at his temple. “He can’t hurt you now.”

There is no need to ask how you know what haunts him, you simply do, and Astarion buries his face deeper in your chest, grasps the fabric of your tunic and lets out a deep sigh. A few silent tears he has tried to hold back spill from his eyes, dampening your clothes.

Your hands draw circles on the small of his back, up to his shoulder blades, until they move to his hair and tenderly stroke along his ears. 

He concentrates on your touch. You are here, with him, unharmed - he didn’t hurt you.

A calmness enfolds and for the first time since he woke he allows himself to relax. 

Astarion suddenly wonders if he ever had something like a home, a real home, somewhere he felt safe - not Cazador’s mansion, the place from his nightmare, where he endured nothing but torture and cruelty.

Something he could choose for himself - willingly. Not something he was forced to, but something he wanted.

For centuries he was used to the pain he suffered under Cazador’s rule, but you've proven how different his life can be. Through the time he spends with you, he's learned that he is valued as a person. You make him feel seen - show him compassion and patience, despite him missing the words at times. 

You give him honest, loving affection, without any vile intent or in expectation of getting something in return. 

You are the only one who is like that. Who genuinely cares for him, who loves him. No one was ever kind to him, only you. No one has a heart like that.

Maybe a home isn’t a place, he thinks, but a person. 

He feels your fingers twisting gently around his curls, while he listens to the sound of your beating heart, and wishes to never let go of you. 

But there is still Cazador and the Rite of Profane Ascension to overcome, and his mansion is barely a tenday away from now. 

Astarion wants to shove the thought aside, but knows he can’t. Not when there is so much at stake - when you give him so much to care for. 

He envisions the ancient ritual Cazador has planned. 

If he was to complete the rite himself, would he become even more powerful than his old master? Would this newfound power offer you protection - keep both of you safe? 

But what if you came to harm once you entered his residence? Hells, what if it would be his fault?

The fear of losing you clings its relentless hooks back to his core.

Astarion sinks deeper into your arms and sighs.

No. He cannot lose you - not to the Absolute, not to Cazador or any other madness you have to encounter along your way.

His shoulders tense, leading you to squeeze them fondly.

“He won’t win, Astarion,'' you vow with the determination that Astarion knows too well by now. “We will beat him.”

At first he wants to scold you, point out how naive you were to think it would be an easy task to confront his past tormentor, but instead he pauses to consider. 

He remembers the foes you've come across on your journey. There have been gruesome, vigorous creatures among them, and yet you were able to vanquish them in the end.

Have you gathered enough strength to destroy a powerful enemy like Cazador, though?

For a second, Cazador’s liveless body appears in front of Astarion’s inner eye. 

Maybe, there was a real chance…

After all, to ensure that both of you will be safe - truly safe - Cazador must be ended, one way or another. 

“Is that so?” Astarion clears his throat and frowns. “Well, when you sound so resolute I find myself actually imagining us succeeding.”

Your features soften as you lean forward and put a kiss to his brow.

“I know we will,” you reply confidently. “Besides, for some reason I was declared the leader of our little group, so I'd suggest you better put some trust in my word.”

“I’m afraid being the leader of this group full of weirdos is hardly something to be proud of, love,” Astarion murmurs against your neck.

“That’s rich, coming from the weirdest of the bunch,” you tease as you tousle through his curls. “You’re a rogue who’s terrified of clowns - shall I go on?” 

Astarion snorts at your remark. “I'm not terrified of them!” he protests with a pout. “It's just.. They make me uneasy, alright? And they're not original - or funny. Honestly, I’d rather witness a goblin mating ritual than any of those wretched clown shows again.”

He removes your hand from his hair to intertwine your fingers with his. Then he recalls the image of the clown you visited at the circus the other day and his face turns into a grimace.

“Keep telling yourself that, but I know for a fact that you were absolutely petrified the moment you saw Dribbles.”

“That wasn’t even a regular clown - that beast was also a shapeshifter!” Astarion exclaims in feigned bewilderment.

You raise an eyebrow and wait for a moment, leaving Astarion curious, until you pin him down to tickle him all over.

“Stop it, you cheeky thing!” Astarion presses between his laughs while he tries to shelter his most sensitive parts from your ruthless fingers.

When he eventually manages to roll on top of you and grab your wrists, you look at him lovingly and catch your breath. He feels the remaining knots in his chest come loose.

Then your face turns serious again. “I promise you, we will beat him.”

“Stubborn as ever,” Astarion states and clicks his tongue, before his lips curl up to a genuine smile. “But perhaps I’ll remind you of that promise when the time comes.”

“By all means, I hope you do,” you assure and return his smile, your thumb softly brushing his cheek. 

You have a rare talent to relieve the tension, he notices. To make him feel light - to make him laugh even, a real, honest laugh, despite the horrors that linger on his mind of late. 

Astarion kisses the tip of your nose and lifts from your chest, resting his body against your back and draws you in a close embrace. Then he buries his face in your hair and presses a kiss to your neck, relishing your pleasant warmth. 

A sudden fire rises inside him.

The thought of facing Cazador remains scary, terrifying even, but somehow with you, he senses there is a viable chance to defeat him at last.

You give him something to care for, and he will do everything in his might to protect you - both of you, his home.

He won’t lose you, and he won’t lose this.

Masterlist

[lustspren]

Winter Wonderland

Male reader x Karina, Heejin (Lyra), Yooyeon (Nissa) (please don’t bitch about the names again, have some imagination bro idk).

A Red Hot Sloppy Christmas sequel.

word count: 13.3k

tags: elves karina heejin and yooyeon, foursome, oily sex in general, blowjob, anal, assjob, bi, master kink, lot of creampies, rope play, bondage, literally magic cock (i’m deadass serious)

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You had never looked forward to Christmas Eve that much. Never. Not even that time in your childhood when you asked for a Darth Maul lightsaber and a WWE championship belt and counted the days on your calendar every morning. Now you did something similar, but the circumstances were completely different: you were expecting a gift too—a damn nice one, by the way—only this time it was a person.

Well, an elf. The distinction was important.

You had completely neglected to tell anyone about your experience, not even those closest to you. Why? To others it would sound like you took too many hallucinogens that night after dinner with your friends; it was completely stupid, and you knew it. No one would believe you.

But it wasn't like you were too eager to tell anyone about anything either. It was like your wonderful little secret. Like Charlie from Stephen King's Fairy Tale and the secret passageway that leads to the world below: no one could know of its existence, as the repercussions could be catastrophic.

Of course, these 'catastrophic consequences' were just mere conjecture and you were perhaps exaggerating a bit. But what if it happened? Would she never come again? Would you be taken to the North Pole to be judged by an elven court for revealing the secret even if no one would have believed you? These were stupid questions, because in the first place, not a single word would ever come out of your mouth. But still, thinking about it kept you up at night for several nights.

Needless to say, your behavior throughout the year had been exemplary. Normally you wouldn't have needed an elf to tell you that you had to do it in order to really do it; you had always been a kind, helpful, honest man without expecting any rewards for it. But now you knew the reward, and for a whole year you were the closest thing to a Buddhist monk you'd ever been in your life.

So yes, she had to come back. You were sure of it. Mostly to explain to you what the hell happened with... well, you had cummed inside her—a lot—and you thought the baby thing was a joke, but she was too cool and serious about it, and frankly you were terrified by the possibility that there was a mini you with pointy ears making toys and hot cocoa in the North Pole. Not by her existence, but by your absence.

Although, would that mini you really have cared? Would she have told him about you? Questions like that would come and go, turn into a tornado of anxiety and nerves and go away again. You just had the overwhelming need to see her again.

But despite anticipating that day so much, you didn't let your life revolve around it and made plans with your friends as normal. The hangout wasn't all that different from last year: same dinner, same gift exchange, and same drinking session that ended with two of your colleagues lying on the floor stinking of alcohol. You of course didn't let yourself end up in that state, not when you had a pending date at home.

This time you didn't arrive at 1 in the morning, but at 2. You ran up the stairs of the building like lightning, and when you got to your floor you literally ran to your apartment with the keys already in hand. The damn lock was your worst enemy at that moment; you couldn't find the right damn key despite using it every damn day, and when you found it, for some reason it took you longer than usual to finally open the door and go in.

There was a quick way to know if she was really there already, and that was by taking off your shoes. But when you did, the disappointment of not finding the floor frozen like the last time made you sigh. She wasn't there, at least not yet. You weren't going to lose hope. She was surely busy with her elf business.

Unwilling to accept disappointment as a mood at the moment, you hung your trench coat on your coat rack and walked slowly into your living room. Now, the floor might not be cold, but your Christmas tree along with every other decoration was lit, and brighter than usual. That could only mean two things: either the power grid was overloaded and you were about to experience a blackout, or she was coming soon.

For the sake of your sanity you would stick with the second possibility.

The dilemma was now deciding what you were going to spend the time you had to wait on. Several options were running through your head, such as preparing something for her arrival. The thing is, she was an elf, not Santa Claus; you didn't know if the same tastes as the bearded old man would apply to her. It was a silly thing to think about, because who didn't like cookies?

Yes, that's what you were going to do: cookies with a glass of strawberry milk. She was sure to love it.

Decided, you turned around to go to the kitchen, but you had barely taken a step when you heard something behind you, something that made you stop dead: a slight tinkling, almost imperceptible, as if little crystals were brushing against each other in the air. At first it was distant, but as the seconds passed the noise took shape until it sounded like a miniature blizzard. As you turned around, your eyes shined at what was emerging next to your Christmas tree: a sparkling swirl of snowflakes that started small, grew larger until it rose upwards, and slowly materialized into a silhouette. A woman.

Well, an elf. And it's not like you'd seen too many in your life, but she was without a doubt the most beautiful one you'd ever seen. There was no competition, you were sure.

Karina had appeared with her back to you, so she spent a few seconds looking for you on that side of the living room. It wasn't until she turned around that your eyes met. Hers lit up with a cute sparkle, but not figuratively, they literally gave off a little spark the moment she recognized you.

"Master!" she squealed, running with little jumps towards you.

"Karina!" you said back, with a smile so big that your cheeks hurt.

She lunged into your arms, causing you both to fall to the floor. You squeezed her in your arms, both of you laughing.

"I missed you so much, master!" Karina said, kicking her feet, her arms wrapped around your head and her face buried in your neck.

At that moment you noticed something that made you feel like a fool for not having done it before, because it was right in front of your nose. Karina was blonde now. A nice pale blonde that suited her perfectly. And not only that. Her hair used to smell like toasted hazelnut, and now you could smell a faint scent of pine and lavender.

"Really?" you asked with warm cheeks and a silly smile. "I... didn't think you cared that much."

Karina moved away from you and settled herself sitting on your abdomen, with a look of not liking what you had said at all.

"What nonsense are you talking about?" She asked with a frown.

"I mean, uhm... I don't know!" you shrugged. "I thought you'd be so busy at the North Pole that well... you'd have forgotten about me."

Karina fell silent, staring at you.

"You're scaring me," you said.

"Master, you're so lucky that I'm a snow elf and can't commit violent acts!" she held up her finger. "There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think of you!"

"I'm sorry! Can you understand me? I spent a whole week thinking that you were just a very lucid dream."

"But I’m not!" she snapped. You had to say that she looked too cute when she was angry.

"Yeah, you definitely not," you replied with a giggle, and brought your hands up to her hair to feel it between your fingers. "But I remembered you... brunette."

"Oh," Karina looked down and saw the strands you were grabbing, then her cheeks turned as red as one of the baubles on your Christmas tree. "That? Well..." her lips curved into a cute smile. "That's what happens to elves when..."

The soft tinkling of swirling snowflakes interrupted her. You frowned and sat up with her still on your lap, and both of you turned to your Christmas tree. This time it wasn't just one swirl, but two.

"Uhm... Karina, what's going on?" you asked, bewildered.

"It seems my sisters remembered that they had to come with me here tonight," Karina said, and she got up from your lap to go stand near the already rising swirls, arms akimbo and head cocked to the side.

"Wait what?" You stood up and went to stand behind her. "Sisters? Do you have sisters?"

"Well they're not my sisters as such, but that's how we call each other at the North Pole," she replied, as snowflakes took shape. "And… here they are."

From both whirls appeared two girls, both as beautiful as Karina. One of them, the shorter one, had long dark brown hair, and her dress was similar to Karina's, only the skirt was more flared and the red was brighter. The other, slightly taller than the first but still shorter than Karina, had short black shiny hair, and her dress, with two pompoms on the chest, was fastened to her neck like a choker with a red bow. Her dress was the same color as the shorter girl's, but it was considerably shorter to show off more thighs.

"May I know what happened?" Karina asked, while the two girls looked around. "You were supposed to appear with me!"

"It was her fault!" the short-haired girl immediately said with a frown, stepping forward while pointing at the other. "She got distracted feeding a reindeer!"

The other girl, unconcerned by the black-haired girl's accusations, stood beside her with a big smile on her face as she skipped around a bit.

"You should have seen him! He was so cute!" she said, then tilted her head at you over Karina's shoulder. "Oh, almost as cute as him."

The black-haired girl looked at you as well, and they both walked past Karina to stand in front of you.

"Is he our master, Karina?" the black-haired girl asked, staring at you with her hands behind her back.

"Aha," Karina nodded behind them, her arms crossed. "Master, this is Nissa," she pointed at the black-haired girl. "And she is... Lyra! Master has not ordered you to do that!"

Lyra had her arms around your neck, and her face was very close to yours. She had puppy eyes, bright and cute, and from what you could sense over that dress, she had a tight, slim body.

"No, but I read his mind," Lyra replied with a mischievous little smile. "And I already know how he wants us to serve him."

Shit, right. They could do that.

You were still, still not wanting to lay your hands on them from the slight shock you had.

"We must wait for master's orders anyway, silly!" Nissa scolded, and with a tug she pulled her away from you. "It's rule number one!"

"But rules are a pain!" Lyra complained.

"Silence, both of you!" Karina said, and pushed them away to stand between you. "Well? Do you like your gift, master?"

“I…” Your gaze went to Lyra, who seemed eager to be ordered around, and then to Nissa, who looked much calmer and more cautious. “I don’t understand, why are there three of you here now?”

Karina let out a giggle.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She cocked her head. “Because of how good you were this year!”

Lyra and Nissa nodded.

“Very few were as good a person as you, master,” Nissa said. “Your name was on a list of only two thousand people.”

You raised your eyebrows. Two thousand people. 8.025 billion people in the world, and only two thousand. Boy you were screwed as a society.

“And of course Karina set herself aside exclusively for you!” Lyra added. “Then we were ordered to come with her.”

“And that’s why there are three of us instead of one, master,” Karina finally said. “Triple fun, don’t you think?”

"Triple fun indeed..." you nodded, looking at the three of them carefully. But your gaze ended up landing on Nissa. "Is there a reason why your dress is so short?"

You knew the answer: nice fleshy thighs. But you hoped she would use her powers to make you confirm something. Nissa didn't disappoint you, as she turned around, looked over her shoulder at you, and lifted her dress to confirm your suspicions: her ass was pretty and round, and very spankable.

"For this, master," she said. "Because I know you can have fun with it. Come, touch it please."

You reached out and placed your hand on one of her buttocks. You took a few seconds to feel how soft it was, and when you squeezed it, it felt like a delicious marshmallow.

"Very nice..." you nodded, removed your hand, and then looked at Lyra. "And what about you? Any qualities you'd like to highlight, darling?"

"I'm tight, master," she grabbed your other hand, bringing it under her dress and then between her legs to let your fingers against her slit. Instinctively you rubbed it over her panties. "Very, very tight."

"Fuck..." you muttered and then looked at Karina. "And what about you?"

"Me?" Karina pointed at herself. "I'm yours, master. For a year now. Do you need me to say anything else?"

"Absolutely not, come here," you said, and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her into a kiss.

Karina welcomed your lips with a cute sigh, as if she had been waiting for that kiss as much as you. She clung to your neck with both arms, one hand on your back and the other in strands of your hair. You roamed your hands over every corner of her body: waist, back, arms, thighs and ass, each part slightly fleshier than last year.

"Girls," you said, pulling away from Karina's lips for a moment. "Feel free to read my every thought and act on it as you see fit."

"Yes, master," you heard them both say as you kissed Karina again.

Lyra immediately latched onto the left side of your body and began to fill that side of your neck with kisses, one hand on your abdomen under your sweater and the other on your lower back. Nissa got behind you, and with Lyra's help she pulled your sweater off. She then planted her lips on your back, tracing a path of kisses that covered your shoulder blades, your nape, and the side of your neck that Lyra couldn't reach.

When your kiss with Karina got intense you let yourself go, pulling down the top of her dress to let her tits fall and pulling up her skirt so you could squeeze her buttocks between your fingers. Lyra unbuttoned your pants, and Nissa slipped her hand inside your boxers to grab your cock. The touch of her fingers felt cold at first, but she must have used her powers in some way, because within seconds her hand started to feel warm against your skin; that felt amazing, especially when she cupped your balls and massaged them, now with one hand rubbing your chest.

Lyra lowered her kisses from your neck to your collarbone, and then slowly moved down your chest until she got on her knees and reached your abdomen. She placed wet kisses there, slowly around your navel and near Nissa's wrist as the short-haired girl stroked your cock under your boxers. Your pants were a nuisance when she tried to lower her lips further, so she grabbed them from the curb and, along with your underwear, pulled them down to your ankles.

"Oh... your cock looks delicious, master," you heard Lyra say, and then you felt her lips on your thigh, near your crotch. Nissa was slowly stroking you, and now Karina was also playing with your balls with her tits pressed to your chest.

You pulled away from Karina's lips, looked down at Lyra, and put a hand on her cheek to rub it with your thumb.

"Wanna taste it?" you asked between gasps, as Karina and Nissa were fondling your cock in all sorts of ways.

"I do what my master..."

"No," you interrupted her. "Just answer my question."

Lyra looked into your eyes, and held your gaze as she took your cock between her cold fingers. Karina and Nissa took the cue and knelt down as well, Nissa taking the right side and Karina the middle. It was then that Lyra, without foreplay or warning, took you into her mouth to slowly suck on your cock, between long moans and deep breaths. She pulled out within seconds.

"I'd love to, master," she replied, and along with the other two girls began to fill every corner of your shaft with wet kisses. "Even if it barely fits in my little mouth."

"Then come on," you said between gasps, watching the three girls soak your cock with their lips. "Have fun with it."

"Master," Karina said, as Lyra and Nissa each took one of your balls to lick and suck on. "May I use my powers on you?"

You frowned.

"For what?" you cocked your head.

Karina smiled, bringing a finger to your tip to collect a drop of precum and bring it to her mouth.

"You'll see," she said, and gave your tip a lick. "For now just enjoy."

With that said Karina was next to take you inside her mouth. You immediately had flashbacks of your past encounter with her; it felt just as warm, and she kept her skill with her tongue intact. The pace she kept was also the same: slow, deep, making sure your cock was covered in her saliva. You moaned a few times, and she imitated you, horny just by the fact that she was giving you so much pleasure.

You wanted Nissa to be next, and so your wish was granted. The black-haired girl waited patiently for Karina to take you out of her mouth to take you in hers. Like Karina, Nissa pumped her head slowly and torturously, gently sliding down every inch of your cock as she could thanks to how slippery it was.

Lyra was eager to take her turn as well, and you could tell she was getting very impatient, because she was moaning over and over again, kissing the inches of cock that Nissa didn't have in her mouth with her hands clinging to your thighs. In your head you gave the order for her turn to be given, and Nissa complied immediately.

"Fuck, finally," Lyra said, and took your cock in one hand before sinking her mouth there.

For the first time, you felt like how you liked things wasn't the most important thing, because as soon as she caught you between her lips, Lyra started pumping her head like a demon, fast and disastrous, in complete contrast to the work Karina and Nissa had done so far. You weren't bothered by it, on the contrary it got even more moans out of you. But the other two girls seemed confused, since they knew that those weren't your preferences.

If that wasn't enough, Lyra surprised you by taking you completely inside her mouth. You expected that because of the size ratio between your cock and her mouth she would gag, but that didn't happen. She kept you in her throat while the saliva poured out in thick drops. Seconds later, she kept pumping her head like nothing, until without even noticing you came inside her mouth.

"Oh my fucking...!" You brought your hand up to cover your mouth in order not to curse anymore, as Lyra milked your cock using her lips and fingers at the same time. She swallowed every drop, letting the saliva spill out but not your load, and after a few moans around your shaft, she pulled out to show you her cum-filled mouth.

"M-Master... did you like that?" Karina asked, afraid that Lyra might have been too reckless.

"I..." you gasped, looking down at Lyra as she swallowed your cum. "I loved it."

Karina and Nissa sighed in relief. Lyra just smiled from ear to ear.

"Very well, now look at this," Karina said.

Karina placed her outstretched hand beneath your cock, and with a subtle flourish of her fingers, caused a cold blizzard of tiny, sparkling snowflakes to spread across every inch of your shaft. When the blizzard cleared and she finally took hold of your cock to stroke it, you felt no trace of sensitivity whatsoever.

“What the...” you raised your eyebrows. “That’s… perfect!” you chuckled. “What else did you do?”

“Your cock won’t go limp unless you want it to,” she replied. “And you can give us as many loads as you want, master.”

“Does that mean my cock is magic now?”

That got a giggle from her.

“You could say so.”

“Great,” you smiled. “Shall we go to the bedroom?”

“We’ll go wherever you want, master,” she said.

“Follow me then, please.”

You helped the three of them to their feet and led the way to your room. Inside everything was neat and tidy; you had made sure of that before you left your house that night, thinking exclusively of that moment when you would have to greet a pretty elf—three, in this case. They entered first, and you closed the door behind you before moving around them and going to sit on the bottom edge of the bed.

“Nissa, come here sweetheart,” you said, your hands resting on the mattress.

Nissa walked over to you, standing between your legs and turning her back to you, to lift her skirt and sit right on top of your cock, squeezing it between her buttocks. She ground her hips back and forth, rubbing herself against your shaft with her hands on your knees. You brought your hands to her waist and then slipped one under her dress to rub her lower back.

“You like my ass, don’t you master?” Nissa asked, looking over her shoulder at you with her lips slightly curved.

"Oh I love it..." you replied, watching your cock being kneaded between her ass cheeks. "It's so fucking pretty."

Karina and Lyra, of course, knew exactly what to do even if you weren't going to speak directly to them. They each climbed into bed with you, Lyra on your left and Karina on your right, both kissing either side of your neck and groping every part of your upper body.

You hadn't indulged in laying your hands on Lyra, so you reached out and wrapped an arm around her small frame to press her against you. She immediately sought out your lips, and upon finding them you merged into a messy, tongue-swirling kiss. Her dress screamed for you to unwrap it like a nice Christmas present, which you did with the help of the hand you had on her back. The garment gave way quickly, and now Lyra was completely naked except for her panties and boots.

You did the same with Karina, an even easier task than the first since you had already done half the work a few minutes ago. You squeezed them both against you, Lyra with her tight, toned petite body and Karina with her heavy tits. You kissed Karina first, but only took a few seconds before moving back to Lyra and her restless tongue. Despite this inclination, for both bodies you devoted careful attention with your hands, emphasizing both asses and both already wet pussies.

Nissa was still working on your cock. She had pulled off her panties, and had slobbered on your cock with her hand to give you an assjob that had you panting against Lyra's lips. At one point, her ass felt so good that you couldn't help but grab your cock, have her rub the tip between her folds, and straighten it so that Nissa impaled on every inch.

"Mmmmgh!" Nissa moaned, holding on tightly to your knees with your cock all the way in her warm, wet pussy.

"You like the way it feels, sweetheart?" you asked panting, and gave both of her ass cheeks a squeeze so she began to slowly move up and down.

"I'm the one who should be asking you that, master," she replied, looking straight into your eyes as she moved over every inch of your cock.

"Just answer," you insisted, one hand now on her lower back. "And take off that dress."

Nissa complied, taking a few seconds to pull her dress over her head. Now completely naked—except for her boots, like Karina and Lyra—she bounced ever faster on your cock, filling your room with cute moans.

"I love the way it feels, master," she moaned. "You'll make me cum a lot tonight, won't you?"

"Only if that's what you want," you said, giving her a small spank that made her moan louder. "Is that what you want?"

"Why does it matter what I want, master?" Nissa managed to ask despite being so agitated. "We are your gift this Christmas. What you want is what matters."

"Wrong," you gasped, reaching out again to grope Karina and Lyra's asses. Lyra's was firmer, and Karina's was fleshier. "None of this makes sense to me if I'm the only one enjoying it, so I do care a lot about what you want."

You heard Karina giggle to your right.

"And that's why you earned the three of us here, master," she said, and grabbed your face to make you kiss her again.

Nissa slowed down considerably, but now she moved harder and deeper. Surely that had a lot to do with what you had told her, because every time she slammed her ass into your pelvis she moaned long and hard. She was one of those girls, noted.

After a few seconds of kissing Karina you moved back to Lyra, while you pulled down both pairs of panties enough so you could play with both pussies comfortably. You put a finger in each one, pumping at a steady pace. Lyra moaned against your lips, and Karina clung tighter to you with one hand on your arm and the other on your shoulder.

"I want to eat your pussy," you gasped against Lyra's lips. "Both of you. You know what to do."

Karina and Lyra got down to business, while you just let yourself fall back to lie down and let the magic happen. They both turned their backs to you, separated their knees and moved a little towards you so that you had both asses on either side of your face, which you just had to turn a little. Now, with minimal effort, you could have a whole ass feast, quite literally.

You first turned to the right and focused on Karina's pussy, delighting in that exquisite taste you missed for so long. Not long after, you turned to the other side, now tasting Lyra's tight little pussy. You alternated between each one, unable to give more attention to one than the other. Nissa, on the other hand, had now returned to the usual rhythm, and bounced again and again against your cock until she finally came.

"C-can I keep going master?" You heard her say as you had your mouth buried in Lyra's pussy. "I've never felt this fucking good and… mmmgh!"

"Let me do it for you baby," you said, and sat up to stand with her, turn her around and make her get on her knees at the edge of the bed. She dropped forward immediately, hands on the mattress and ass up for you. "Oh, you can do like... things with each other? You know."

"We're not related," Lyra replied. "So you can safely order her to eat our pussies, master."

"You heard her, sweetie," you told Nissa with a couple of pats to her lower back before taking the reins and fucking her hard from behind.

Lyra and Karina lay on their backs next to each other, pulling their legs up to their torsos to hold them there with their own arms, making it easier for Nissa to do the job as you hammered her pussy like you were doing.

Nissa moved from side to side between moans, making sure to be even with the use of her mouth and tongue and even fingering them. The first to cum was Lyra, who had been horny for quite a while now and it wasn't hard to get her over the edge. Seconds later it was Nissa herself who came, unable to contain the pleasure already building up in her body. It wasn't until half a minute later that Karina came too, thanks to the joint work of Lyra, sucking on her tits, and Nissa, eating her pussy and fingering her.

"Only you're missing, master," Nissa said between gasps, looking over her shoulder at you. Her face was flushed in every corner, and her raven hair was messy. "What are you waiting for to fill my warm elf pussy?"

Your response was a spank that made her squeal. Your climax was pretty close, but the trigger was seeing at that very moment how Lyra and Karina kissed in the hottest, messiest, and mind-blowing way possible. You grabbed onto Nissa's waist, and with one hard thrust you came inside her between moans.

"Mmmgh yes, just like that," Nissa moaned as you filled her pussy, one side of your face resting against her crossed arms. "That feels good huh?"

"Oh it feels amazing, fuck," you gasped, hands on her buttocks. When your climax passed, you pulled out of her and took a step back. "Aight... the first one to get to clean up will be next."

Karina's reaction time was so fast that she didn't even give Lyra a chance to move. Within a couple of seconds she was already at your side to bend down and clean your cum from Nissa's pussy, while Lyra was still on the bed, with a frown and a slight pout that you found adorable.

"Don't be like that, cutie," you told Lyra with a smile. "If you know what I have in mind for you right now, you'll know that it will be worth waiting a little."

Lyra looked at you for a second, and the pout transformed into a small knowing smile. She pulled out a hand, and made a pair of ice-white but sturdy-looking handcuffs appear in her palm. But that wasn't the main attraction. A few seconds later, tied to her body appeared a series of red ropes, intertwined across her entire torso; these formed a star on her chest, with her tits protruding on either side of the lower point while the upper end was around her neck and the side ends under her armpits. The abdomen part formed a diamond with her belly right in the middle. She didn't have any limbs tied at the moment, so she could still move freely. For now.

"You're very naughty, master," Lyra said with a giggle, pulling Nissa towards her to remove her dress and leave her on equal terms with her and Karina. "Luckily for you, I'm very happy being naughty."

Karina grabbed your chin and made you look at her.

"Hey, you'll have time for her," she said, pressing herself against you so you could wrap your arms around her. "I won."

It was the first time she spoke to you like that, directly and without formalities, as if she were your equal and not as if you were a person superior to her. It was strange not to hear her call you master, but it drove you crazy.

"Yeah, keep talking to me like that," you smiled, bringing a hand between her buttocks to rub her folds. "It makes me want to fuck you even harder."

Karina tilted her head and smiled back at you, bringing her hand down to rub your cock.

"Oh yeah?" she said, then bit her bottom lip. "Then fuck me hard. I dare you. Fuck me until I cry."

It felt bad to know that you would have to make Lyra wait a little longer, but the way Karina had said that had struck a chord in you. It wasn't your fault tho, how could you not comply with such a request? It would be a sin not to. Besides, you had the perfect idea.

"Lyra, darling," you said. "Will you please let me have the cuffs?"

"All yours, master," she said now on top of Nissa, making out with the short-haired girl as she handed you the cuffs.

"I thought you would use that for Lyra, master," Karina said as you reached out an arm to take the cuffs.

"I found a better use," you replied, and turned Karina around so that her back was to you. "She'll already have the ropes."

"And what do you think... oh!" Karina trailed off as you made her bend down as far as possible without bending her legs. Then you pulled her arms straight up, held her wrists together, and put the handcuffs on.

"Just like that," you said, and with one hand holding her wrists, you took your cock and slowly took it inside her, in one smooth movement that made you moan out loud.

"Mmmgh fuck!" Karina moaned, tensing her entire body at the inability to move. "Oh yes, do whatever you want with me master. After all I'm just your pretty sex slave. Pound my pussy hard and fill it with your warm load."

God damn. What would the bearded old man think of her if he heard her talk dirty like that? It definitely wasn't your problem, and since it wasn't, you started fucking her like you'd been wanting to do for the past 365 days.

Karina brought out her obedience and durability from that moment on. You fucked her fast, hard, pounding her from behind with such force that the thrusts reverberated through the room, and despite that, she held still for you without complaint, perfectly assuming her role as sex slave.

"Don't you think it would be nice to see those pretty ass cheeks lit up in red, master?" Lyra asked from your left, kneeling at the edge of the bed with Nissa behind her kissing her neck and rubbing her clit.

You held Karina's wrists with your right hand and reached out with your left to reach Lyra's pussy and slide two fingers inside. She moaned and held onto your wrist with one hand, while the other was behind to grab Nissa's nape.

"Very good," you nodded between heavy panting breaths, focused on keeping up the pace. "But you'll be the one to decide if it's enough."

"Count on it," Lyra moaned as you pumped your fingers in and out of her pussy, which you could already get a sense of how tight it was.

Taking advantage of the fact that Karina had no choice but to keep her arms in that position, you let go of her wrists so you could drop the first spank. Of course, one wasn't enough; at least ten more followed, making Karina whimper until Lyra gave you the signal to stop.

"Oh look at that master, they're beautiful," she pointed at Karina's ass cheeks between gasps, as you were still fingering her and Nissa was making quick circles on her clit.

Karina's ass cheeks were indeed beautiful beneath that pigmentation: bright red, the color of Lyra and Nissa's dress. She looked over her shoulder at you, and you smiled as you noticed you were complying with her request as she was crying out in pleasure.

"You like that baby?" you asked, clenching your jaw as you hammered her pussy.

"Yes!" she screamed instantly. "Yes fuck yes! And I'm going to... mmmgh!!"

Karina exploded into spasms, her trembling legs about to give out. You slowed down considerably so she wouldn't be overwhelmed, and that allowed you to focus on Lyra.

"And you?" you asked, adding a third finger into her stiflingly tight pussy. You pumped fast, as much as you could with your non-skilled hand. "Cum, cutie, and look into my eyes."

Lyra held your gaze in a show of unconditional obedience, even though her face looked like it was about to melt with pleasure. Only a few seconds later your and Nissa's work finally paid off, when Lyra dug her nails into your wrist and climaxed with a long moan that made your eardrums vibrate.

As Lyra came, you pulled your fingers out of her and let Nissa take over since you weren't done with Karina yet.

"Nissa, baby, push her away," you said, referring to Lyra.

Nissa nodded and picked up Lyra to carry her to the side of the bed, leaving that space at the edge free for you to make Karina get on. The blonde girl settled herself with her ass raised, knees wide apart and face against the mattress. You removed the handcuffs, only to bring her wrists together behind her back and put them back on. Then, with both hands clinging to the front of her thighs, you continued fucking her with all your might.

Karina whimpered against the mattress, biting the sheet and shedding tears. Her body was still shaking from her recent orgasm, but she was happy with that, with you using her without mercy or care. That's what her eyes told, fixed on you while her face went through every possible phase of pleasure, from twisting to complete paralysis, state in which she stayed until she came for the second time.

The time you gave her to assimilate it was minimal; you didn't want to stop for a second, and you were dying to cum again inside that perfect pussy. The non-stop thrusts made her growl deep in her throat, and also made her bury her face in the sheets to muffle her screams. She came a third time, but this time you joined her.

"Mmmgh fuck!" you growled between slow thrusts, putting your hand on the back of Karina's neck to press her face into the bed and fill every corner of her pussy with cum. "Fuck I missed this so much!"

"Yes master, fill me up!" Karina squealed, writhing in pleasure. "Make me more yours than I already am!"

"Is that even fucking possible?" you gasped, balls deep inside her, waiting for your climax to pass before you pulled out of her pussy. "God, I'm sorry, I'm cursing too much."

Lyra let out an incredulous laugh, looking at you lying on the side of the bed.

"Master, you have ropes tied to my body and your biggest vulgarity is swearing?" she asked with a giggle.

"Nissa, clean Karina up, sweetie," you ordered her, and climbed onto the bed to grab her chin and plant a sweet kiss on her lips. "I promise to reward you later."

"Even if you didn't, I'd be happy to do anything you say, master," she smirked at you, her hand over yours.

"And that's why you deserve to be rewarded," you winked at her. "Come on, go. I have work to do."

Nissa nodded, moving past you and going to take care of Karina. Lyra then settled herself right in the middle of the bed, a mischievous little smile on her face and her legs spread wide. You quickly positioned yourself on top of her, hands flat against the mattress on either side of her shoulders. Your cock rubbed against her pussy underneath, and she raised her hips to seek more contact.

"Let's see how tight you say you are," you said as you looked into her eyes, to grab your cock and take it inside her, little by little.

And fuck, she wasn't wrong. In fact, her own words didn't do justice to how truly tight that piece of tender flesh was. Lyra smiled mid-moan. It was a cocky smile, as she knew she was completely right by the way you were panting.

"You like it huh?" She asked with a giggle as you were just a few inches away from reaching the bottom of her stifling walls. "Isn't that the tightest pussy you've ever been inside of, master?"

"Oh fuck yes," you gasped, and gave one last quick thrust to let the entirety of your length inside her. "You didn't use any powers, did you?"

"Of course not!" she replied with her hands on your shoulders, visibly offended.

"I had to ask," you shrugged, and leaned into her to crash your lips together and begin rocking your hips back and forth.

Lyra put her hands on your neck and moaned against your lips, keeping her legs open for you to fuck her pussy gradually harder. She had something special for sure. It could be that sassy attitude she carried around that you found so fucking sexy, but it could also be that tight, toned body, or that beautiful face that glowed every time she smiled. Whatever it was, that girl's spark felt like something you could easily become addicted to.

The initial plan was to use the ropes and fuck her in different ways and positions, and while the plan wasn't off the table, you were determined to postpone it just a little bit just to take advantage of every second you had with her and enjoy as many experiences as possible. The good thing was that with this girl you were sure there were no regrets, because every second you spent thrusting in and out of her was a second in which your obsession with that tight little body only increased, and this was entirely due to her merit, because her body language was bold, wild, unleashed. As if she completely forgot the role she was supposed to be fulfilling.

"Does my tight pussy feel good, master?" she asked between moans, as you pumped fast and hard. You held her by the thighs, pressing her knees to the sides of her torso.

"Overwhelmingly good," you gasped, looking into her eyes.

At that moment you felt someone behind you, who wrapped both arms around you and caressed your abdomen and chest. When you felt her tits you knew it was Karina, exhaling hot breath near your right ear. Nissa showed herself on the left; she laid on her side next to Lyra, just to watch you fuck her.

"Make her cum, master," she murmured in your ear. "But choke her, she loves it."

"How do you...?"

"Just do it."

You brought your hand to Lyra's neck, gripping it with five fingers to squeeze hard. The reaction was immediate. Lyra let out a moan that didn't come out of her throat, and held onto your wrist with both hands. Her walls tightened around your cock, making you moan as well. As a final trick you added an extra gear and hammered her pussy with all your might. Not even 10 seconds passed when Lyra's back arched and her body shook in a violent orgasm, unbecoming of an elf according to the little information you had about them.

"I told you," Karina said with a giggle, as Lyra came on your cock. "Are you going to tie her up now? I can do it for you if you want."

"You already know how I want her, so do your thing," you nodded, and let go of her neck.

Karina snapped her fingers, and in the blink of an eye Lyra now had more ropes tied to her body. Her arms were bound, crossed behind her back, and she had another pair of ropes tied to her shins from her thighs. Lyra noticed this and looked down at herself, then smirked at you.

"About time," she said.

"Fuck, that's hot," Karina said from behind you. "Do you want me to do something with her, master?"

"Not for now, sweetheart," you replied. "Right now the orders are for Nissa."

She looked at you, awaiting what you were going to say to her.

"Sit on her face," you pointed with your chin. "Right now Lyra will be ours."

Nissa was happy to comply. Within seconds she was on top of Lyra's face, thighs on either side of her head and hands on her small tits. Lyra stuck her tongue out and ate at the short haired girl's pussy, who moaned and slowly ground her hips.

With that hot scenery in front of you, you continued fucking Lyra's pussy, this time with your hands on her petite waist and Karina kissing your neck. Nissa looked into your eyes, fucking herself against Lyra's face and squeezing her tits, and you were going crazy at how good Lyra's pussy felt and how hot she looked tied up.

"Karina, love, touch her," you said, looking at her over your shoulder. "I want to see how many times she can cum before I do."

"Yes darling," she said in your ear, and went to lie down next to Lyra.

You felt your cheeks heat up, and not because of how turned on you were, but because of being called 'darling' by Karina. It was a small reverie that took you a while to snap out of, but now you couldn't get it out of your head, not even when Karina started rubbing Lyra's pussy and sucking on one of her tits until she came.

Lyra moaned against Nissa's folds as her legs and hips shook. You fucked her through her orgasm, and Karina kept touching her as well. You made eye contact with Karina, and one nod was enough for her to snap her fingers again and the way Lyra was tied up changed. Now her legs were together and raised, and her wrists were tied to the sides of her calves.

With your hands on her thighs you kept thrusting like a madman, making each blow reverberate through the room. Nissa came within seconds, her thighs pressed on either side of Lyra's head, but she kept grinding her hips, not a hint of a sign that she would stop. Maybe it was due to the fact that you wanted her to do whatever she wanted to seek her own pleasure. It hadn't been an order as such, she had simply decided herself. Fine by you. The less orders you had to give, the better.

You and Karina made Lyra cum again as the seconds passed. Her moans came out louder, and the vibrations made Nissa cum for the second time in a row, only now there was a little surprise.

"Oh damn!" Nissa moaned with a hand on her mouth as she lowered herself off  Lyra's face, realizing she had squirted on it.

"What the..." you raised your eyebrows, now pumping slower against Lyra's pussy.

"I'm sorry Lyra!" Nissa said, looking at the girl's soaked face, worried.

"Are you kidding?" Lyra asked, gasping for air, as if she had run the Tour de France. "That was fucking hot, let me fucking kiss you right now."

"Are you... sure?" Nissa tilted her head.

"I would pull you in for a kiss right now if my hands weren't tied."

Nissa didn't hesitate to lay down beside her, on the opposite side of Karina, to grab her by the neck and kiss her. You started moving again, and now Karina got up to kneel behind you again, running a hand in front of you and bringing it to your balls to hold them while you fucked Lyra in search of another climax.

"Come on baby, fill that tight little pussy," Karina said in your ear, then sucked on your earlobe. "I feel those balls full and ready to cum inside that petite body."

Karina kept calling you all those cute words, and you thought you would explode with love at any moment. Thinking about it distracted you again. Lyra, thankfully, drew your attention back to her by breaking the kiss with Nissa and looking you straight in the eyes.

"Oh fuck fill my pussy already, master!" she squealed. "I need that fucking load inside me!"

Karina snapped her fingers, and a rope appeared around Lyra's head at the level of her mouth to keep her quiet. You hadn't commanded that.

"Hey, watch that mouth!" Karina scolded her. Ironic.

Lyra frowned, frustrated for a moment by the inability to speak. But when you gave Karina the mental command to make the ropes holding Lyra's legs and wrists disappear and only the ropes around her mouth and torso remain, you had her moaning and biting the rope as you pounded into her pussy as if she hadn't already cum three times before.

With Karina holding your balls and exhaling hot breath on the back of your neck, it was easy to reach the downhill slope that would lead you to your climax. You clenched your jaw, leaned forward a little, and now put two hands on Lyra's neck, both squeezing until every sound that came out of her throat was cut off. In the final stretch you got quicker, at a pace you didn't even know you were capable of, until with one last sudden thrust, you came inside the tightest pussy in the North Pole.

You groaned through clenched teeth, pumping slowly to get every drop of cum inside her. Lyra was holding your wrists with both hands, looking up at you with tear-filled eyes. You were sure you were squeezing maybe too hard, but you were unable to loosen your fingers when the sensory stimulation was so overwhelming to you.

"Oh yeah..." Karina moaned into your ear, massaging your balls. "I can feel those balls emptying inside that little pussy... Oh! They're full again," she giggled.

"You three are amazing, you know that?" you asked between gasps, regaining control of your motor skills to release Lyra's neck.

"It's the reward for a wonderful man," Karina said into your ear, and she pulled you into a hug from behind to kiss your cheek. You decided to ignore it so you wouldn't curl up like an armadillo and giggle like a fool.

"Oh right, speaking of rewards..." your gaze went to Nissa, who was pampering Lyra and wiping the tears from her cheeks. "It's your turn for another bit of fun, sweetie."

"How do you want me, master?" she asked, glancing at you as she was focused on Lyra being okay. "I know what's going through your head right now... but I'd like you to say it."

"I want to fuck your ass," you said, finally pulling out of Lyra's pussy after about fifteen uninterrupted minutes. Your cum spilled out in a thick river onto the sheet. "All three of you."

"And...?" Karina asked, already knowing what you wanted as well. You could tell she was excited, as you two had previous experience with it.

"And I want us to get a little... slippery."

"Yay!"

It seemed like Karina had everything premeditated in her head already. She snapped her fingers, and beneath you appeared a red, waterproof plastic blanket that covered the entire bed.

"Oh... this is new to me," Nissa said, looking at the blanket beneath her.

"Not to me," Karina said, and positioned herself to your right to show you what she held in her hand. It was a moderately sized glass jar, molded into the shape of a snowman with a hat. The liquid inside was clear, and it was obvious what it was. "The honors are yours, sweetheart."

You took the glass jar and looked at Nissa and then at Lyra, who already looked composed after the wild mess you had just gotten out of.

"Can you get on your knees?" you said.

"Are you implying that I'm tired and that I'm out of energy, master?" Lyra asked, raising an eyebrow, and with a haughty expression she was the first to kneel up, sitting on her heels. "I feel underestimated."

You chuckled, moving to the bottom edge of the bed to make room for them. Lyra took the center.

"Forgive me for worrying about you, then," you said, as Karina and Nissa took the same position on either side of Lyra.

First in line was Nissa. The short-haired, chubby-cheeked girl stood expectantly, her gaze fixed on the jar of massage oil. You knelt in front of her, cupping her chin so she looked into your eyes, and caressed her jaw with your thumb.

"Have you ever done anything like this?" you asked, really stupidly because she was a Christmas elf, surely they didn't fuck each other oiled up.

"Clearly not, master," she replied. "Is it... sticky?"

"Slippery," you corrected her.

"That's why the plastic blanket?"

You nodded.

"It'll feel good for you, I promise."

"Well, alright," she nodded with a small serene smile. "I trust you, master."

"Should I start then?" you asked, removing the snowman's hat and opening the jar.

"Stop asking so many questions and just do it, master!" Lyra protested from the side. That girl was a different kind of thing indeed.

In order to start with Nissa you positioned yourself behind her and began pouring the oil on her body, making it drip from her shoulders to her back and breasts. After pouring a considerable amount you had her take the jar for you to spread the liquid all over her back, shoulders, and arms. Then you poured a little more, and now you covered her breasts, belly and finally moved on to her thighs. A little over a minute later, Nissa's pale body was well oiled and shiny.

"Oh, it feels... warm," she said, running her palms over her tits. A small moan escaped her lips after rubbing her nipples a few times. "And wow, it feels really good."

"I told you," you smiled, gave her a kiss on the cheek and walked past Lyra. You approached her face to face.

"Oh master," she sighed, looking into your eyes and then to your lips before bringing a hand to your cock and slowly stroking it. "You know there's only one place tighter than my pussy, don't you?"

You picked up the jar of oil and poured long lines up and down her tight body before spreading them out.

"You weren't the most well behaved elf in your class, were you?" You raised an eyebrow, spreading oil across her abdomen before moving down to her crotch and rubbing her slit.

"No, she definitely wasn't," Nissa said, glancing at her. "And now she's acting even worse."

"Of course not!" Lyra protested, frowning at Nissa. "You're just the most boring girl!"

"Whatever you say," Nissa shrugged.

As you finished oiling Lyra's toned body you finally went with Karina. She was waiting for you with a sly smile.

"How does it feel that we're finally going to do this after a whole year, master?" she asked, as you oiled her body.

"Unreal," you admitted, avoiding eye contact so as not to blush but smiling. "But I'm... happy, quite a bit."

"Yeah, I can tell," she giggled. "That's why I'm this happy too."

"You elves can sense emotions?" you asked, running oil down her tummy and thighs.

"Uhm, not exactly," Karina shook her head softly. "But I can sense yours because well... we're bonded."

You paused with your hands on her thigh, then looked up at her.

"Bonded?" you frowned.

Karina's cheeks lit up with a light blush.

"I think I'd better show you when we're done here," she said.

"Can't you just tell me?"

"No, it's something you need to see."

You heard Nissa and Lyra giggle to your left. They knew things, but they didn't seem willing to tell you. You weren't going to push it either; you'd have time later.

"Okay okay," you nodded. "No pressure."

"Thank you honey," Karina smiled, and gave you a peck on the nose. This time you couldn't help but blush.

You worked for the next minute in silence, putting the finishing touches before leaving Karina on equal footing with Nissa and Lyra.

"Very well master," Karina took the jar from your hand and moved to the side. "It's your turn, come on, lie down."

You didn't object and waited for space to be given to you to lie down in the middle of the bed. Immediately the girls knelt at your sides, Karina on your left and Nissa and Lyra on your right. Karina didn't wait for you to give her the green light, she just started pouring the oil all over your body. Having finished, the three girls put their hands on you.

The girls divided up the areas of your body: Karina had your entire upper torso, and Nissa and Lyra from the waist down. Karina and Nissa were gentle, spreading the oil over your chest and arms and down your legs respectively. But Lyra, being the unstoppable force of nature that she was, had gone straight for your cock and was shamelessly groping it, spreading oil all over that area but at the same time jerking you off.

"Lyra..." you gasped, but a nervous giggle escaped you as well. "That's not what you're supposed to be doing."

She turned to look at you, moving her hand faster on your cock. It slid so smooth and felt so good that you moaned.

"Oh no?" she gave you the eyes of an abandoned puppy. "But I feel your cock very, very slippery, master."

"Yes but..." you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "Fuck it come here."

You pulled her by the arm so she landed against your side. Your slick bodies came into contact immediately, her small breasts pressed against one of your pecs. You kissed as Karina and Nissa finished the job, and you brought your hand to Lyra's ass to put a finger directly inside her butthole.

"Oh fuck!" Lyra moaned against your lips, and began to stroke your cock much faster.

"Lyra..." you gasped, trying to get her to stop but at the same time now adding another finger inside her butthole to pump it just as fast. It was a few long seconds before you could muster all your willpower. "Lyra, stop!"

Lyra huffed against your lips, reluctantly releasing your cock.

"Yeah yeah, Nissa will be first," she said, having already read your mind. "Sorry."

"I'm going to kick your ass when we get back..." you heard Nissa say, who looked at Lyra with narrowed eyes.

"Huh?" Lyra frowned and looked at her. Karina giggled.

"Nothing," Nissa looked at you. "May I, master?"

"Go ahead, darling," you nodded.

Nissa turned around and straddled you, her back to you, planting her feet on the mattress in a squat position. She grabbed your cock, brought it between her buttocks and pressed it against her butthole to slowly lower her hips. Your cock was easily engulfed between that pair of pale, pretty asscheeks, and when Nissa rested her ass against your pelvis you both moaned.

"Feels good, master?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at you with her eyebrows raised in pleasure.

"It'll feel better when you use me as your personal trampoline," you replied, and brought your hands up to her buttocks to make circles with your palms there.

"Let me do it?"

"That's what I want you to do."

As soon as she said that Nissa took a few brief seconds to very slowly get into a pace, until she was bouncing hard and fast against your cock. You moaned and gave her a spank that slipped and didn't land as hard as it should have, but it was enough to make her whimper.

You pulled Karina and Lyra to the sides of your body. Now you crashed your lips against Karina's, who purposely rubbed her heavy tits against you. Lyra did something similar, only she was rubbing her pussy against your thigh. With Nissa already jumping on your cock you were able to resume your previous activity, so you put two fingers inside Lyra's ass and did the same with Karina, pumping both wrists quickly.

Nissa bounced on your cock for a while, and she did it without tiring despite going as hard as she was going. She finally came between cute moans, grinding her hips back and forth while her whole body shook with spasms. It was at that moment that you considered it appropriate to give her her well-deserved reward.

You pulled your fingers out of Karina and Lyra's asses and reached out to grab Nissa, pulling her so she was lying on her side on top of you and grabbing her from behind her knees to press them against her torso. All to finally plant your feet on the bed and pump up and down.

Nissa held onto your head with both arms and dedicated herself to filling the room with the most beautiful moans ever heard by man. You didn't know what an angel sounded like being fucked in the ass and mind-melting with pleasure, but it was surely something very, very close to that.

"Come on baby give me another one..." you murmured in her ear. Then you gave her earlobe a light bite and a hard spank to her ass. "Cum again for me."

Nissa tried to speak, but nothing but stutters interrupted by moans came out of her mouth. She kissed you, trying to drown out every whimper until with a violent electric shock, she came just as you had asked. You slowly pumped your hips, being gentle with her so she could enjoy her orgasm to the fullest.

"T-thank you, master," she murmured against your lips, breathing heavily. "For…  always considering what I want."

"You don't have to thank me, cutie," you said, and pulled out of her. "It's the basics for someone who isn't a jerk."

"Master...?" you heard Lyra's voice to your right. Turning, you saw her on her hands and knees. "Are you ready for me yet?"

"It shouldn't even be your turn yet, Lyra," you said, and carefully pushed Nissa off you.

"No, but I know you want to give Karina your last load, so I deserve you to make me cum a few more times."

You chuckled and sat up.

"You talk like I'm the one serving you."

"I talk like I know what you want, master," she said, spreading her knees and arching her back further to make her ass look rather more appetizing. "And I know you want to fuck my ass very, very bad."

Karina sighed, tired of Lyra's reckless attitude.

"Forgive me, master," she said. "It's my fault for having such poor disciplinary methods."

"No need," you said. "Let's give the sassy slut what she wants."

Lyra smiled, and you went to kneel behind her. The first thing you did was put a hand on her left ass cheek and used your thumb to finger her ass for a few seconds.

"Let me guess, you want it pretty rough too, don't you?" you asked, and pulled your thumb out of her asshole to soon replace it with the tip of your cock.

"Oh yeah," she nodded with a moan, propped up on her elbows as she watched over her shoulder as you took every inch of your hard, throbbing cock into her tight asshole. "I like it rough, so don't hold back for anything in the world."

"I wasn't planning on doing that," you replied with a hand on her slick lower back, pushing the last few inches inside her. "It's what you deserve for being such an insolent girl."

"Punish me then, master," she moaned as you began to move slowly. "About time you do."

The first spank was quick to fall, and more followed as you increased the pace of your thrusts. Unlike Karina's ass, Lyra's ass took a little longer to turn as red as Rudolph the Reindeer's nose, perhaps due to the layer of oil that reduced contact. But when you had accomplished that task you grabbed a handful of her brown hair and pulled on it as hard as you could, making the smacks of your pelvis against her ass reverberate like applause throughout your room.

Lyra went crazy with screams and grunts, and thank god your nearby neighbors spent Christmas outside the building, because at that hour of the morning you would have gotten into a huge amount of trouble with all the fuss that girl was making.

"You like it like this huh?" you asked through clenched teeth, and gave her a harder tug to make her respond. "Huh?!"

"Mmmgh fuck, yes!!!" she whimpered, desperately searching for something to hold on to since the only thing you had underneath you was the red plastic blanket. "Just like fucking like that, yes!!"

A few thrusts later Lyra came, but you continued, not letting up for a single moment. She screamed and squirmed, but within seconds she dropped the side of her face against the blanket and lay still for you again. Taking advantage of her submissiveness, you made her lay on her stomach flat so you could lean forward, grab her chin to make her look up at you, and spit right in her face as you fucked her now prone bone.

"Oh fuck yeah do that again," she growled, and stuck her tongue out for you. You spat on it after a few seconds, and she moaned louder.

You gripped your hand around her neck, as best you could despite the angle you were at. You weren't squeezing too hard, but it was enough to make Lyra cum again, smothering your cock with her butthole walls and making you moan along with her. It was a miracle that you didn't cum on the spot, in fact, you had no idea how that hadn't happened. A moment ago you would have easily exploded because of how good it felt when Lyra cummed and all of her body seemed to go tighter.

With your lungs about to explode from exhaustion, you looked up, and by pure chance you found the answer to your question. Karina was staring too intently at your crotch, with a finger discreetly raised and her eyes a little brighter than usual. Of course.

When she noticed you were looking at her, she lowered her finger, her eyes returned to their normal color and looked at you with an innocent little smile. You weren't going to comment on it, but it's not like it bothered you. In fact, it was just another thing to be grateful for.

"Satisfied, reckless slut?" you asked Lyra between gasps, kissing her on the forehead.

"Only for now," she replied, and managed a mischievous smile.

You pulled out of Lyra's ass and went to lay down in the center of the bed again, right next to Karina, who didn't hesitate to straddle you, grab your face and crash your lips together, already having you all to herself.

The make out session lasted longer than expected. She was more than happy just kissing and rubbing your slippery chests together, and you were more than happy just groping every corner of that perfect body. But soon that last load in your balls was demanding and screaming to be released, and knowing this, Karina raised her hips and brought your cock to her ass to slowly impale herself on it.

"Oh lord," Karina moaned with her hands on your chest as your cock was already halfway in. "Why the hell didn't we try this a year ago?"

"Because we fell asleep too early," you replied, hands on her waist.

"At least we got some sleep that time," she said, your cock already deep in her ass. "But now dawn is too close."

"Oh, right..."

"Hush," she put a finger on your lips. "Don't think about it and just focus on me, honey."

You looked into her eyes, and for the time number-you didn’t remember-, you blushed again at her expense.

"Y-yeah..." you nodded, and she started moving up and down.

That was without a doubt the most intimate moment you had all night. It was just the two of you, her cupping your face and caressing your cheeks as she kissed you, and you running your hands up and down her back and then hugging her tightly. Karina didn't want to go too much faster than she was going at that moment, and it wasn't necessary either; the rhythm was more than perfect, deep and sensual, so that both of you felt every movement with every fiber of your bodies. You moaned against her lips, and she against yours.

"I'm going to cum, honey..." she moaned against your lips after a few minutes. "Cum with me, will you? Yeah?"

"I'll be happy to, fuck," you panted, your hands squeezing her tits and then bringing them to her buttocks and squeezing them. "You keep going, keep going!"

Karina now did pick up the pace a little, just to speed up a few seconds what was inevitable. Towards the end she bounced on you hard, and raised her body a little so you could see her tits jiggle with each blow. You couldn't help but take one into your mouth, suck on it and hold on to Karina's body with both arms until you both came in a series of deep moans.

"Mmmgh fuck yes darling!" Karina whimpered as you came inside her ass, and she took her breast from your mouth to hug your head.

You buried your face in her neck and filled it with as many kisses as you could, drowning your own moans there that kept coming out until you left your entire load inside her. Your last load of the night. After that the magic would end, and you wouldn't see Karina again for another year. Again.

The two of you took a long time to rest, holding each other close between little cuddles, caresses and kisses.

"Honey... about our bond," she said, lying with her head on your chest. "Do you really want to know?"

Certainly some things were better left unsaid. Ignorance was also a power. But no, that was something you had to know by any means necessary.

"Of course I do," you said. "Why so much mystery about it? Is it a bad thing?"

"It is for some… heartless people," she admitted. "But if you're the man I think you are... it won't be for you."

Your heart skipped a beat. Your mind began to spin and scheme like crazy.

"Okay... show me, please."

Karina smiled and sat up with her hands on your chest.

"I'm afraid you'll have to get dressed first," she said. "And put on something warm too," she then looked to their sides. "Hey! Wake up!"

Nissa and Lyra woke up with a small jump from their slumber. Who knows how long they had fallen asleep, but they both looked equally disoriented.

"Go back home and wait for me at Ysara's Crystal," Karina ordered, then pointed at Lyra. "Ysara's Crystal!" she reiterated, knowing full well that Lyra was the unruly one.

"But don't yell at me!" Lyra whined, and stood up reluctantly.

"He's coming with us, Karina?" Nissa asked, carefully getting out of bed.

"Wait what?" you looked at both of them.

"Yeah," Karina nodded with a pleased little smile. "It's about time he met little Tharion."

"Who?!"

"Shut up and get dressed, silly," Karina patted your chest, and stood up next to Nissa to snap her fingers.

The red blanket, along with the jar of oil and the layer of oil on the three of them, disappeared. Not only that, Karina was now fully dressed and groomed again, as if nothing had happened. Nissa and Lyra also snapped, and now they were fully dressed again as well.

"We'll see you in Glaciora, master," Nissa said, holding Lyra's hand. Then, a swirl of sparkling snowflakes began to envelop them from bottom to top. Seconds later, they disappeared.

"In where?!" you asked again, so confused that you couldn't even move from the bed.

"Honey, get up and get dressed!" Karina urged you. "The sun will soon be setting and my powers won't work here!"

"I'm sorry!" you sat up. "It's just that! I-I! Oh forget it!"

You stood up and hurried to get dressed. You didn't know how to dress warmly, but if you were going where you thought you were going, you'd be perfectly fine with what you were wearing. Ready, you stood next to Karina.

"Look, I'm not going to lie to you," you told her. "I'm terrified."

Karina giggled, took your hand and laced her fingers through yours.

"Why?" she asked. "I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you."

"It's just..." you started breathing faster, anxious. "That... you know, thing," you pointed to the floor. "Is it going to take me too? How do you s-"

Karina suddenly shut you up with a sweet kiss on the lips. Yes, blushing cheeks again for you.

"Everything will be okay, I promise," she said, looking into your eyes. "Now shut up and let me do my job."

Karina pointed her finger at the ground and made a small gesture. A few seconds later, that whirlwind you saw in the distance before was now forming around your feet, slow, but increasingly faster, dense and bright. The whirlwind rose up your body, enveloping each of your limbs and then covering you completely. In a reflex you closed your eyes, thinking that some snowflake would get inside you. But that didn't happen, in fact, you felt absolutely nothing more than a tingling sensation all over your body.

And then cold. Intense cold. Accompanied by the sound of the polar breeze and... steam engines in the distance?

"We've arrived, darling," Karina said from beside you, squeezing your hand. "You can open your eyes."

You hesitated to do so, but as soon as you did the last thing you felt was regret.

"What the..." you took a few steps forward, stunned by what your eyes were seeing.

You were standing on top of a snowy hill with some pine trees and grass, and the general passage was filled with tall, rugged mountains, packed with snow on the peaks and slopes. But that wasn't what had you stupefied, but what was in the valley just below the hill you were on.

Calling it a city was a bit of an exaggeration, but the picturesque houses of that beautiful town stretched far into the distance, winding between the mountains. It was a bright, charming place, filled mostly with two-story buildings made of oak wood with plenty of windows, in which you could see men, women, and children living together in a common joy that you knew was due to that time of year. Beautiful. That place was beautiful, and it felt warm, like a home.

"Well... this is where I'm from," Karina said, standing next to you.

"But h-how?" you were still stunned as you looked at every corner of the town.

"You don't expect me to explain how our magic works, do you?" she giggled.

"No, you don't have to," you shook your head. "It's just that... my goodness! This is beautiful!"

"Wait till you take a closer look then," she grabbed your hand again. "Come on, Nissa and Lyra are waiting for us."

The two of you walked down the hill patiently, but you didn't go straight to the town, you took a small detour to the left that led you to a wide plain in the center of which there was an obelisk-like structure right in the middle, at least ten meters tall and made of a crystal that reflected pink and purple lights. Ysara’s Crystal, most surely. Near it were the girls. The first thing Lyra did was make fun of your stupid face as you admired everything, and Nissa just smiled excitedly.

"Hey, before I show you everything do you want to...?" Karina asked.

"Yes," you nodded immediately, not knowing how sure you were of your answer. "Yes, please."

Karina nodded, and led you along with Nissa and Lyra, this time to the town.

The streets were quite different from anything you could have imagined a Christmas elf village to look like. Everyone was dressed in red, yes. But there was no one dressed in a flashy outfit, replete with buttons and all kind of colors. There didn't seem to be a hint of ill intentions on anyone's face either; all the people wore bright, genuine smiles, working in all sorts of places outside of carpentry shops, bakeries, toy stores, or any common job you could find in any other city in the world.

You didn't stop to take a closer look, as you had only one destination for now: Karina's house.

The house turned out to be a small cabin near the foot of one of the mountains. It was definitely meant for just one person, but it looked perfectly cozy and spacious. A fireplace was lit inside.

"Are you ready?" Karina asked you, holding your arm in her hands. You were on the first step of the stairs leading to the door.

"I think so..." you nodded quietly.

"Very well. He's a little shy, so don't worry if he seems scared."

You climbed the stairs, each step feeling like an eternity. Karina knocked a few times on the door, and within a few seconds an older, kind-looking lady, dressed in a long red dress with long flared sleeves, opened it. Behind her, in the center of the room, sat a boy playing with a wooden boat.

Him. Tharion. You couldn't see his face, but his hair was... like yours. Same color.

"Karina, dear!" she greeted, welcoming her with a hug. "You're back! And oh, who is this handsome boy?"

"Grandma, he's..." Karina looked at you, then looked over the lady's shoulder at Tharion.

"Oh!" the lady beamed, visibly happy. "Should I... yeah, I'll go buy some chocolate buns, I'll leave you two with little Tharion!"

The lady walked past the two of you, quickly descending the stairs and grabbing her skirt to quicken her pace into the city.

"Is that your... grandma?"

"Not really, but she raised me since I was little."

"I couldn't even introduce myself properly," you sighed.

"You'll do that later, come on in," she gestured inside.

You did so, hands in your jacket pockets. There were many details inside the cabin that you would have loved to pay attention to, as it was an extremely beautiful place. But your gaze was solely fixed on the child, who couldn't have been more than a year old. Just about the time that...

"Tharion!" Karina called him in a small voice, walking past you to go to the child. "I'm home, sweetheart!"

The child dropped the small wooden boat and raised his arms for Karina to carry him. When she did and turned with the child towards you, you were completely petrified.

He looked just like you.

"Honey... this is Tharion," Karina walked slowly towards you with the child in her arms. "Tharion, he's your father."

Tharion. Your son. With Karina.

Oh... no.

———————————

SPREN NOTES: Well this is definitely my longest uninterrupted smut scene to date. I think about 80% of the piece is smut lol. Hope you enjoyed it tho, especially this ending that sparked my desire for parenthood lmao. AND YES, I KNOW IT'S JANUARY 11 ALREADY BUT FOR ME IT'S CHRISTMAS ALL YEAR ROUND.

[yandere-wishes]

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡Acolyte⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

𐙚Yandere! Qimir/The Master x Reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Plot: Your loneliness is suffocating, engulfing. Qimir is the only one who seems to subdue the pain. But every forbidden fruit has its price.

⁀➷Warnings: Yandere behavior, gore, angst (at the end), author having an anxiety attack over this fic  

🪐Note: Why is the longest thing I've ever written for a fandom that barely exists? Anyway, here's the long-awaited Qimir piece!

⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ : Disturbia - Rihanna, Dark Vacay & Motion Picture Soundtrack - CAS

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🍓⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Your master's anger is tangible. You harbour it stubbornly on your tongue. Relishing in the frustration. You aren't sure how many times you've cut out your soul to place at a master's feet. Gnawing on perfect lips to keep quiet during another scolding. Your new master's disappointment reverberates through the room. Thick and oozing like an infected wound.

You messed up again.

"We do not injure other padawans during training. We do not lash out and attack, especially when your training partner has fallen. How have you trained for so long without comprehending these basics?"

The rage that boils inside you is not Jedi in nature. It's something else, a bizarre second, something ancient, ghoulish. An all-consuming fire that burns inside your veins. It shouldn't feel so welcoming, so familiar.

You roll your eyes.

"With all due respect master. How is one to win, if they do not strick when given the opportunity? That too should be a basic notion, no?"

You see the anger snake across your master's face. A defeated, disgruntled, glance that you've become a bit too acquainted with. This is the look that all your previous masters give you. And yet none have yet to master its eeriness quite as well as your first master. Master Sol.

Your master sighs, a piercing noise, deflating every ounce of his willpower. You are exhausting to be around, his annoyance is becoming discernible. "Master Sol is coming by the temple to check your...progress. He's requested a few items to take back with him. Please go fetch them from the apothecary."

Progress is a gentle word and Jedi love using gentle words. It's easier to say than the full truth. Sugar-coated things always taste better.

But the sugar refuses to stick to you.

It burns away in your bitterness.

Coruscant is a distant memory, it was never your home to begin with. But the high bustling volume is something that is hard to forget. Here things are quiet, you slip through the bazaar undetected. Small basket clutched tightly. You wonder what's dragging your former master halfway across the galaxy. You wonder if it's really just to see you.

You gaze blankly at the holographic list. A few rare herbs and some medical roots. This planet grows them in abundance, and the local apothecary carries more than its fair share.

The apothecary is an old, disheveled thing. The older Jedi say that its presence is as old as the temple itself. Odd how some things have a will of iron. You gently rap at the worn metal door, waiting for an invitation to enter. The hinges cry as the door opens ever so slightly. You squeeze in, surveying the cluttered den. Careful to avoid the half-empty bottles and neon puddles scattered across the floor.

"Excuse me" your voice holds an urgent annoyance. Where is the pharmacist? What kind of store owner abandons their shop in the midday? You run your fingers across the strange bottles, letting your nails pick at the murky glass. The colors flash, begging to be freed, strange space pinks, and summer oranges all trapped inside square prisons. Baby poisons dying to taste the world, burning it if they must, but experiencing it nonetheless, tasting their own form of freedom. Funny, they almost remind you of yourself.

Trapped and fatal.

"Hello?", the voice behind you is languid, dozy. Mirroring a late afternoon nap. When the man next speaks you notice a lyrical lint "What brings you here little lady?". You turn to see it, the voice, or rather the man harboring the voice. He's loosely robed and shaggy in the way that only the most spirited vagabonds are. He smiles tenderly upon seeing your face, strange red fruit caught between his teeth. "I um...I" you click your tongue anxiously against the roof of your mouth. Feeling around for those pesky words, in the end, you just shove the hologram holder forward, hoping he'll understand.

"Oh, I see, out here doing some chores?" You nod, mind preoccupied with the otherwordly fruit. "what's that?" you ask, schoolgirl curiosity lacing your voice. "What, this?" he asks holding the freckled thing between his fingers, it's only in the mild light that you notice the shimmering gold scattered across its red skin. The stranger laughs, walking closer, he places the hologram base on the black table, clicking it on as he studies the list. "They're called strawberries. They're from the forest planets, not many grow here in the mid-rims." He's nimble as he packs the herbs and roots, fumbling with the straw ties. "care for a bite" he asks, handing you the bitten fruit.

Hesitantly you bite.

Letting the sweetness erupt on your tongue.

"Thank you" you mumble trying not to moan at the foreign taste. The stranger laughs, it's a cheery noise like birds chirping in first bloom tress. "you're a Jedi, aren't you?" he asks stepping around the table, eyebrows furrowed, caught in a dream he doesn't seem to understand. You choke on the rogue static as he steps closer, eyes half-lidded dreaming of nothing. "Here..."

"Wha-" your voice catches in your throat, it's getting harder to breathe.

"Your supplies" He hands you the brown paper bag, motion a little too phlegmatic to be right.

"Oh, right...thanks" You anxiously shove the bag into your basket and scurry out of the shop. Holding your breath.

"Come back soon." the voice chirps behind you.

Your old master arrives by spaceship, a newer, albeit worn model. The landing pad ejects to reveal a small escort.

Master,

Knight,

Padwan,

Apostate,

You stand still watching as they descend. Bits of envy bubble in your throat watching your former master and his band of little heroes. You wish you had their belonging. Forgoing the loneliness to find kinsmanship with your coterie. You swallow down the bitter thoughts as they finally approach you.

Master Sol's smile reaches his eyes. Gentle and wise. The true epidemy of a Jedi in every sense of the word. Funny how he now has two failures under his belt. None of which are capable of scratching his shining repute.

His hands are on your shoulders, bright smile. "My padawan, it's been too long." You try to bow, awkwardly and stiffly. "Mater Sol, I'm grateful you've come to asses my progress". If he hears your doubt he doesn't show it. Instead, he reintroduces you to Yord, Jacki, Osha.

You try to be polite. Gulp down the awkwardness

You imagine the taste of strawberries on your tongue.

Remember their stiff sweetness and prickly tasteless freckles.

You smile. Easier this time.

They'll stay here for some time. Hunting assassins and documenting progress in their free time. Jacki seems more invested in your training than you are, trying to teach you everything she knows. At least she doesn't mind the rough play, the violent strikes, and sloppy prideful defenses. She speaks in pointers and parries. She's the one to drag you along these assassin hunts. Welcoming you...or at least trying to.

But there is something else at play. Darker, broader, Sol and Jecki welcome you into the fray. Yet you still feel your old master's hesitance, he's still wary of you. Worried about your anger, your defiance.

The distance grows, some icy void.

Sol used to tell you fairytales. This was back when you'd been young and bright-eyed. Freshly welcomed into the order and still overflowing with artless hope for a colorful future.

But even back then, he had known there was something wrong with you.

Looking back it was evident.

Every story started and ended the same. Little princess against the big bad world. Holding out until her prince came along. Only problem was the morals never registered right in your little messed-up brain.

Why didn't the princess fall for the dragon, the wolf, the tyrant king with a crown of bones? Why didn't she swoon and sigh over someone rousing, compelling? A paradox wrapped in black ember? Why settle for a sun-painted prince, with no complexities, no mysteries to unravel?

You would have married the dragon, or the wolf, or the tyrant king with a crown of bones.

Even back then, it was evident something was wrong.

The temple's roof isn't restricted per se.

It's rather abandoned as opposed to forbidden.

Maybe that's why you find solace here. The abandonment feels familiar, similar. The chipped cement kisses the soles of your feet, you imagine it's something like walking upon the rough terrain of a star.

You breathe in the night air deeply.

Expecting the fragile scents of moonshine and star glitter.

Instead, you choke on heavy mist and blood-drenched air.

The thing standing in front of you isn't human. It can't be human. It's created from the blackness, ebony in all the ways a living thing shouldn't be. For a second you think you're staring at a black hole. No doubt this creature crawled out of one.

What sheer willpower one must need to drag themselves out of endless nothingness?

"Little Jedi should not brave the night alone."

It speaks

"There are far too many monsters roaming in the dark"

Its face never moves, statue in all the ways the figures towering over the entrance aren't. This statue is something else, a lost page to some forgotten epic. Carved from gems born in darkness. Evil and rotten.

"What are you?" your voice susurrate, quivering in this surreal scene. The air is thicker now, overflowing with raw static.

Your fingers itch for your saber. Only when the cold metal kisses your palm do you regain some semblance of reality.

The hiss, the green light.

The figure chuckles.

Its voice bouncing from every direction. Everywhere all at once. When it speaks the air cackles, raining as if it were a frightened child.

"I am something akin to you, another child of the force" His voice comes out distorted, uneven in tone. "I am what's birthed when one learns of the true strength of the force."

Your body moves on its own, feet kicking the ground sprinting faster and faster before the final leap. You aim for the helmet, for the morbid toothy grin permanently etched within steel. In a flash the word stills, floating around you like fluorescent bubbles, the rain tumbles around you, curving and diving for the wet ground. It dares not land on something within his grasp.

You feel the slithering across your body. They start from the ground, summed from the unknown depths. Clinging firmly to your ankles before inching up your knees, your hips, your neck.

long, slipper tendrils curling around your body. The figure watches, bare arm outstretched. You should probably be focused on how the unseen things are inching closer to your mouth. Not on the toned muscles and limber fingers of the monster. Not on how, for a fraction of a heartbeat, his smile appears genuine, caring, aimed straight at you.

Only You

They finally reach your lips, prying your teeth ajar and flooding your mouth. Sinking deeper and deeper into your soul, your mind, you.

The smile grows.

In a blink you're suspended in the space between worlds, dark damning thing cradling your body.

"The dark side once belonged to the Jedi, yet they chose to discard it. Deeming it malignant, ungovernable."

Your weightlessness unnerves you. You're malleable in this void.

"Those few who embraced its calling were dubbed Sith." He says the word with such fervent pride. Devoted to it's weight and all it carries. You try to roll the word off your own tongue only for it to burn the roof of your mouth.

The stranger stalks closer, lethal and lithe.

The void vibrates, the darkness bends to his will.

He reaches down to cup your face. His fingers feel warm, welcoming. You nuzzle into his palm, fighting the urge to kiss each finger and suck on the dark force they emit. "You..." he starts, his voice shakes you to the core. Its horror amplifies with the proximity. You wonder if it'll cut through steel, armor, flesh.

your flesh.

"You aren't like the other temple dwellers. You have potential."

His thumb presses your lower lip, demanding entrancing. You comply, needing to feel something solid.

Something you've been denied your whole life.

"They keep you locked away. Trading you between craven masters. Seeing who can tame you first."

He nicks his thumb on your teeth,

Pressing bone into dentin.

His essence drips into you.

He tastes of power.

Of dark, dreadful things you can not name.

"They do not know how to train you. How to use your power..."

The world crumbles, ebony midnights giving way to reality. You feel yourself fall, plunging through the air like a comet bent on destruction.

"They only break you further"

Your knees collide with the harsh ground. Skin splintering in the aftermath giving way to bruises and bloodmarks.

The ground feels too solid beneath you.

A poly, a ruse.

You all but expect to melt through it. Slipping and falling into the vacuum, into him, once more.

He hovers above. Absolute in his strength. You're beginning to believe that blackholes birth divinity. Eyes shimmering with fanatic fidelity, staring up at the holy creature commanding the storm.

"Teach me..."

You've never begged for anything so terribly in your life.

But you need this.

this power

this control.

him.

Sol never told just how the princess met the villain.

He never said it wasn't love at first fright.

Sol insists that the local apothecary knows the truth behind the Jedi-killer. Definite that the unseemly man can tell you something important. He sends Osha inside to play Mea. To get the man to talk.

You crowd around the communicator urging back giggles. Yord's chin is placed upon your shoulder and Jecki's cheek rests against yours. Their touches come so early. And yet they are utterly alien.

"He will be so pleased." No sooner have the words chime from the corroded speakers that Sol is ushering you all towards the small metal hut.

Yord entwines his fingers with you as he runs.

Jacki wraps around your arm.

You feel at times they are trying to tame you.

Befriend the feral puppy they found in the backyard.

The apothecary's face is utterly stunned. He's stammering over his words fear glistening in his eyes as he stares at Sol. "Please, please don't wipe my memories. Or whatever it is you Jedi do." A rosy blush colors your cheeks, at his terror. It's terribly amusing seeing someone so carless, anxiously list off everything he knows. You almost feel bad for the poor scared man.

There isn't anything important here. But Sol decides that you will all return at midnight. The Jedi-killer will be back. Apparently, Qimir -that's his name, that the strawberry-eating, disheveled pharmacist's name- is holding something of value for her.

There's a tug on your wrist as you go to follow the others. Gentle and firm as he pulls you to his chest. "Come by tonight. I'll have some strawberries waiting for you." why does he feel too genuine? When you turn to look at him, he's painted in his usual sweet carefree smile that tugs at your heart.

He looks so innocent...

Starlight really brings out his eyes. He's laughing with a nervous smile,

School-boy crush on full display. You're licking strawberry juice from your hands as you listen to him talk. Backs pressed against the rusty wall and bodies half sprawled in the dirt. He's telling you about the first time the Hutts made him retrieve a plushie for their son from another solar system.

Qimir's voice feels like rose peddles melting into your skin. Sweet, jejeune, free. You offer him a berry from your pile. Watching tentatively as he submerges the red fruit into his mouth. Missing your fingers by an inch. He's laughing after the fact, head thrown back as if he's about to engulf the stars. You decide to laugh too.  

"Are you really that lonely," he says in a voice that's almost not his own. You're not expecting the invasive question, although you guess he means well. The words still cut deep. Piercing through the laughter, stunning you for a breath too long. "No...I'm a Jedi, we do not-"

"Form personal connection. I know...But you just look so lonely." He shuffles closer, the dirt particles almost look celestial in this light. Your fingers pitch a civil war. Pinching and clawing at each other. "No, yes. I don't really get along with the others." He rolls his eyes, bored and amused in the same breath. "Yeah, no wonder your money." He's picking at another strawberry, letting the crunch fill up the silence. You're beginning to think he just likes having something to chew on. Gulping down the anxiety with something toothsome.

He's a little closer now, fingers gingerly tucking back your hair. His fingerprints reverberate across the shell of your ear. Lips gliding against yours. You swallow as his lips fall across yours, pushing sweet stars past parted lips. He tastes of odd things, whimsy things. Everything you'll never come to understand. Xeno fruits and asteroid fields. His fingers glide up your arms, leaving moondust in their wake. He slowly parts, holding you softly with his soulful dark eyes

"You taste so sweet"

Strawberry, Starberry, You kiss him a little too deeply.

Maybe your new master is right.

Maybe there are other ways of being a Jedi.

The movie playing is doused in shades of rose and lilac. Gentle in all the ways. Everyway. The twi'lek girl is in love with the zabrak boy and their families do not approve. You think you remember Sol telling you a similar tale.  

The makeshift auditorium is cozy. Brown couch housing the three of you and your armada of blankets and popcorn buckets. Jacki's head is in your lap, you're playing with the end of her braid imagining the hair to be the lace of a Love-sick girl's ballgown. Yord's arm traverses the length of your arm, absentminded as he studies the motion picture, poking holes in the lose rose-tainted plot. Your head rests against his broad shoulder taking in his new cologne.

Maybe you really did miss them.

Jacki reaches for the popcorn, offering you some before shoving a handful into her mouth. You think the little symmetry-less kernels would taste better with a strawberry glaze. Qimir flashes across your mind, smiling sweetly as he tilts his head.

You think you're a little too similar to the star on screen.

Pinning after forbidden love,

Forbidden power.

Master Sol is growing acutely aware of your drastic improvements. He's noticed the betterment in your offense, your defense. To the way, you wield your saber, your techniques, and yourself. There is esteem in the way he smiles. In the words of praise, you've longed to hear. But you notice the lingering glances, the undertone of skepticism and worry when he asks about practice. He doesn't need to know of the black-glad creature that trains you in the unholy hours.

He doesn't need to know how beautifully your new master sculpts your rage into lessons. Teaching you how to wrangle the force and control it. How to use it to make the world bow.

These things will remain secret. For you fear Sol and the others will strip them of you. Strip them of the new master you've come to worship.

"Do you think people glow when they fall in love?" Jacki's voice is filled with sleep. Eyes closed as she murmurs remnants of movie memory. "No, I don't believe they do" you answer. "too...bad" There was a yawn there darling and vigorous like the rests of her. She looks so sweet like this, infantile in all the ways she can't be. Little girl dreaming of something impossible. You wonder if Sol's told her the fairytales too. You kiss the crown of her head, your baby sister you think. And big brother Yord, snoring with his head thrown back.

Maybe you should test her theory. rising softly from the couch you make your way to the door. Throwing one final glance at your sleeping siblings. Before going to find Qimir.

His lips ghost over yours, spilling star-clad secrets between each kiss. The apothecary has never been so dark, so secret, so secluded. Qimir's lips glided across your neck biting the flesh and licking the little diamond droplets of blood. Your nails rack across his spine, the wool of his throw-over itching the backs of your hands. "So precious" he mumbles, voice ridden with want, need. it's criminal how desperately he needs to feel you. You writhe under him, "Qimir, kiss." you whine. His lips feel like a lifeline, something keeping you sain. He pushes fireflies and lava pearls inside you, carving you open and enjoying you

He always enjoys you.

It's foggy outside when his tongue clashes against yours. A thick unsettling mist banging against the darkened window. "You're custom-made for me" Qimir mumbles against your lips. "Custome tailored" you boldly correct. "ummm, sure" his hands pinch at your hips, clawing mindlessly and leaving tails to your thighs. But the sensations are growing distant, you hear the heavy hum of saber activation. You psyche cracks

The world is dark,

He alone is absolute.

Your master's mask flashes dangerously across your mind. "Master Sol would be disappointed". You've heard that line a million times. Still, the words cut a little too deep coming from your demiurger. "Gullible" you don't understand, what have you done to earn his rage? He's gone, leaving you in the emptiness, you taste the charcoal from the landscape under your tongue.

Still, you long to call after him.

"Master"

The darkness subsides with the feeling of softness across your muscles. A breeze stirs you from the clutches of slumber. "Good morning" Qimir chirps, soft smile greeting you as you open your eyes. "Qimir, when did I?" he laughs, it's such a pretty sound this early in the morning. Sweet like caramel tea. He kisses your forehead. His quietude is commendable, he tries to calm you with feather-light kisses. You laugh pushing the covers away and still. Frozen.

What's this

The nightgown is lacy and short. It drapes expensively against your skin. Marring it with its tenderness. "Qimir, what's this!" he chuckles, "I couldn't let you sleep in those robes, they looked uncomfortable." You want to argue, to scream, and be angry. But the rage boils down slowly as you notice something dangling around your wrist. A bangle, and an anklet you notice later, black and gold entwined in patterns mirroring lighting stricks. "They're from Korriban, I had some relatives there." oh, why does that planet sound so familiar? "Thanks, but ask me next time before you go playing dress-up doll with my sleeping body" He pouts and can't help but trail a string of mouthy kisses across his neck. Qimir shuffles pulling you onto his lap. Pushing his nose under your chin. His eyes are honey-deo, adoring and scheming. "But you're mine." The possessive ness that flesh across his face is alarming. So is how tightly he grips your waist. It's only in this state of half-undressed that you begin to notice the taut muscles of his arms.

During your most recent lesson, your master gifts you a ripe juicy strawberry. He says it'll focus you, replenish your wither strength. You eat it a little too quickly, forgetting to savor the pink blush within. You believe too ferociously in everything your master says.

He can never be wrong.

You love the way your new master splatters blood across your sleeves. Be it yours or his enemies. He's started taking you out on his kills, having you watch as he hacks and mauls. His enemies must die, no one who doubts such marvels should be granted the privilege of life.

He's only ever spoken in half-riddles.

"Unfortunately legacy is a fickle thing. Tenacious, fervent, yet frail and erratic. No matter how hematological, we all read our bones differently."

The rain falls to your ragged heartbeat. Fast one minute and slow the next. You stick out your tongue desperate for a few drops. Your body is on fire, every muscle pushed to its limit. But the Force is screaming inside you, thumping dangerously between your fingers. You're ready for the next round. Saber ready and only half mesmerized as your master pulls out another blood-red saber. You charge, rage pumping deliciously through your body.

You forget to ask him where he got the berry from.

The next Jedi to die will be Kelnacca. That's why Sol is dragging all of you to the forest planet of Khofar. You think the name is utterly hilarious, the others don't understand the mirth.

Between briefings and Jacki and Yords packing quarrels. You sneak out to say goodbye to Qimir. Scribbling a half eligible not to leave for your master. But the apothecary is deserted upon your arrival, only a taped note on a half-full mortar.

'Gone to get more Strawberries.

Be back soon.'

You wonder if Khofar has strawberries.

Strawberry, Starberry, you're falling between the cracks of so many.

The Sun on Khofar is red, barely breaching the thick canopy. Maybe it's for the best. This scene is not one to remember, but how can you make yourself forget?

Death looms.

Permanent, Eternal

The fighting began in twilight.

The sky has grown two shades darker since.

He had floated in from the high reaches. You'd almost called out to him, 'master', the words die bitterly on your tongue. His saber ignites in the carnage, light growing redder after each kill. The bodies fall haphazardly stirring the quiet night.

Your saber falls onto the woodchip ground. No sound. He has followed you here. Yet it is not you, he seeks. Your master mask is haunting, in the dark the silver mouth glows bright white. Even against a massacre

the smile never relents.

He twirls the red saber with lethal accuracy, red arc severing another life. 'Take the right!' Jacki screams through the force, her eager voice bouncing inside your cranium. 'Don't' you scream but she's already attacked.

Saber sings saber.

Golden light flickers.

Forward. Backward. Lunge. Parry. Flunge.

Just like you practiced. Back in the quiet of the training room. Is it too late to return to the matted ground and wooden swords? Too late for safe comfort?

You won't take it for granted this time you swear.

Your master attacks with vicious zeal, cutting through the light. His black robes bleeding into the night. Jacki, scurries backward, trying to block with every ounce of strength. In one swift move, she spins freeing herself and assaulting his head with the metal of her weapon.

The mask clutters to the ground.

You scream.

He looks every bit the villain here. Blood drenched, water drenched. Smiling like the wolf in a child's picture book. Qimir's face stares back at you, hair matted to his forehead. He's panting, spent. You've never seen him toil. Dreaming him incapable of harm.

Yet he stands above the corpses. Wolf's teeth bared as he slices through the little girl.

It's been years since Master Sol tucked you into bed. Years since he's read you a story and listened to your baseless questions about romances.

You've finally gotten your answer. Painted in a shade of red indistinguishable from black.

Because the villain is too vile to be loved.

You run, catching the limp corpse before it joins the rest, you cradle her close. Tears landing on the orange of her face. There are no strawberry romances here. No sweet forbidden fruits. Just pain, hollow, empty, rotten. "Jacki" your voice muffles into her robes, rain-soaked, tear-soaked.

"Was that its name?" his voice doesn't sound right. No cheerful hellos or drowsy laughs. It's all menacing now, grating and hollow lilt. "Qimir" you wail, sob half caught in your throat. "It can't be you." He shakes his head, smile crooked and maniacal. "I'm afraid so, little one." The force pushed you up, pulling you to him. Qimirs head tilts, his fingers dancing around your throat. Squeezing squeezing squzing. Your glossy eyes take in his unruly appearance. Even now your master looks utterly perfect. Muscles relaxed as he steals your breath. "Master" you whine, your heart shouldn't be hammering like this, leaping through beats like something lovesick.

"(Y/n)" golden light fills the clearing. Yord runs, Prince Charming in every way you should have loved.

Qimir releases you, only to nestle your neck in the crook of his arm. "Don't worry darling. I'm almost done." He blocks the first attack.

Second, third. Yord scrambles to pull you away, missing each time. "Let her go" The urgency in his voice rattles you. He did love you.

Little sister, little princess.

Why is only starting to make sense now?

There's a crack, so loud it echoes across the woods.

"NO"

Yord's body joins the rest.

no no no

"Where were we?" Qimir is every bit the villain.

The dragon, the wolf, the tyrant king with a crown of bones.

"You lied to me, you killed them. Why, why would you do this."

"Because the Jedi say I can not exist." Sith, right those things were supposed to be evil. Hailing from Koriiban, the evil Jedi forced to flee. And here you were having so readily given yourself to the enemy.

The blood flows free in the rain. Dozens of bodies drained.

There's a river of blood. You kneel by the holy thing, dipping your cupped hands into the crimson. You drink deeply from the massacre thinking it'll taste sweet. Qimir pulls you in holding your throat as he submerges you.

Baptized in blood

The world flashes red.

It feels so free here. Floating weightless, letting everything be. The rage can not find you in these depths. Free like an adrift astromech. Free to float amongst the stars.

When you emerge again. The world has grown brighter. You see the wide-eyed bodies, even Sol is among the dead, you swear you see disappointment in his lifeless orbs. You gulp, swallowing the euphoric faint. You see your new master before you. Swimming to him carefully, following the gentle tug of the force. Prey meets predator. Qimir chuckles, the water is shallow by the banks. He sits awaiting, on his makeshift throne.

There is no sympathy here you should know better

"You took adorable" Qimir rasps. Hot breath fanning your ear. "Master Qimir" you mumble shifting as he pulls you onto his lap. He laughs this is submission, a breath away from grasping his desire. He cups your cheeks, drifting his hands to your shoulders. Pulling you closer, bodies melting into one.

His kisses still taste like strawberries. Sweet and metallic. All possession and domination. Biting lips and tongue and flesh. Spilling fresh poison with each snip of your neck. He licks the blood from your fingers with feral pleasure. Swirling his tongue around each digit and pulling it further down his hungry mouth. You swallow the darkness from his tongue, letting him snuff out the little embers of light. The stars are burning away bit by bit. He pushes you under again.

Mornings on Khofar are dark, caught in a perpetual twilight. Qimir wraps his robes around you letting the midnight sink into your bones. "The ships a bit of a walk. But we should be there before noon." You paddle after him. Fingers lashing awkwardly at his hand. He turns and offers you that tilted smile once more, mask bouncing in his free hand.

"Master qimir" you confess, it feels so light on your tongue. Like clutching dying white-dwarf-stars behind your teeth. He chuckles, snapping a berry from a nearby bush. His smile sings of triumph, victory, earned in blood. He places the fruit amongst your teeth. You, his little war prize.

"My little acolyte"

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[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Deforestation｡⋆.

John Price x plus size reader

Price being mad you shaved your pussy. That’s it

Warnings: smut, Dom!Price, possessive!Price, fluff, established relationship, pussy spanking WC: 840

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You stepped out of the master bathroom feeling like a brand new woman, empty wine glass in your hand and your body practically glistening with the amount of expensive moisturiser you used. This is what you needed, a boiling hot everything shower to wash off the stress of the week. From your shitty manager laying off yet another one of your coworkers and giving you their workload to learning that your fiance was about to be deployed again for the second time in three months, you needed a proper refresh.

The bedroom was significantly cooler than the sauna you turned the bathroom into. Goosebumps bloomed across your exfoliated skin as you eased yourself into the plush chair in front of the vanity John had built for you. The dark green satin robe slipped from your shoulder but you ignored it, your gaze instead on the line of oils just below the mirror. 

A pair of warm if not slightly chapped lips descended upon your bare shoulder, he wasn’t quite kissing you, just pressing as much of himself around you as he could. You hummed and leaned your head against his temple, breathing in the smell of tobacco and cheap cologne and something so wholly John that clung to him.

“Good shower?” He muttered, his large calloused hands coming around to rest on your plush stomach, the tips of his fingers barely brushing against the sliver of bare skin revealed by your robe. 

“Mmm very good. I needed it so badly.” Your nose trailed along the edge of his hairline, your eyes fluttering shut as his hands began to wander downwards. John released a low sound from deep in his chest as you spread your thighs and granted him exactly what he had come to the bedroom for. He knew just how pliable you got after your showers, barely needing any prep for his thick cock with how relaxed and soft you were. 

You held onto his forearms as he finally reached down and… froze.

“Everything ok there, cap?” You teased. John grunted in reply and cupped your pussy in his massive hand, the heel of his palm digging against your clit as he probed around.

“You shaved.” 

“I did.” You confirmed, wiggling forward in the seat so he could feel even more of you. “Decided I wanted to clean up a bit.”

You received an almost feral snarl in reply. “I thought I told you this was mine.”

——————

The headboard slammed into the wall with such force that the drywall had begun to crack and flake away but the special forces captain refused to stop, not when he was so close to proving his point.

You wailed and squirmed beneath him, your nails digging into his strong back as he continued to pound into you viciously. “Please!” You cried, your voice broken and hoarse. Your stomach twisted with pleasure and you tightened around him. John glared down at you.

“No.” Immediately, he changed his pace, ripping your orgasm away from you. You sobbed in frustration but John was unforgiving. “She is mine, I know what’s best for her, not you. I know when she needs to cum because obviously you can’t be trusted taking care of her anymore.”

Your body bounced with each thrust, your words only coming out in short bursts. “It’s. My. Pussy.” You ended with a bitten off moan as John slammed into your g-spot, the fat head of his cock making your vision blur.

“She’s fucking mine.” John angrily pressed down on your lower stomach. “I trained her to take me. I know exactly what she needs to feel good. She loves me, she knows I take good care of her.” You grumbled as he once again shifted, lifting your hips from the bed so your shoulders pressed into the mattress. 

Your thighs shook violently, the breath being knocked from your lungs by a precise strike to your cervix. John reached forward, his palm meeting your bare cunt with a loud smack. You cried out and he did it again, his lips pulled downwards in what his boys dubbed the ‘Captain Face’. He clicked his tongue and delivered one last slap to your over sensitive pussy.

“Look at her, she’s so cold now. Guess I’ll just have to warm her up.” His thumb flew to your throbbing clit, finally letting you cum around him. Your back arched further up as your jaw dropped open. He huffed out a breathless laugh at the way your body locked up so tightly, he could barely pull out. “That’s it. See, knew exactly what she needed.”

As soon as your muscles relaxed, John readjusted his hips and slammed back into you, his pace immediately picking up again. Your stomach burned with the stretch of his cock and the sensitivity of your first and long overdue orgasm. “John!” You tried to protest but the man only lifted your legs higher onto his waist with a victorious grin.

“Like I said, I have to keep her warm until her coat comes back.”

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