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screwitbaby · 6 months ago

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naive

hamzahthefantastic x reader (fic)

day 1/7

[part 2]

summary: a short story about the boys’ trip to curaçao. hamzah’s oblivious with girls and you’re not one to turn down a challenge.

contains: SFW content

wc: 1.8k-ish

The first thing that crossed your mind when you met him was that he was hot. Way too hot. Like, he must have the worst personality (and/or stroke game) behind closed doors to still be single. He truly is an enigma.

A pair of pale legs comes between your view of a shirtless Hamzah walking out of the water like he's in a sexy cologne commercial and blocks you from staring at him any longer. You whine and look up to see Martin with his arms crossed over his pasty chest.

"Enjoying the view?" he asks sarcastically. He sits on the beach chair next to yours.

"I was," you say, pulling your sunglasses off your face and placing them atop your head. "Then you had to go and ruin it."

"I think I made it better, actually,” he says. He lays on his side with his hand on his popped hip. You nearly gag.

"Jumpscare warning next time, please?"

"Ha-ha." He flips to lay on his back. "So go to talk to him."

"Hell no," you say. "He needs to come to me."

"You're delusional." Martin shakes his head. "And Hamzah's oblivious. He friendzones every girl he's interested in. It's really painful to watch, honestly."

"This is your best friend you're talking about," you remind Martin. "Shouldn't you at least talk him up to me a bit?"

"I'm not a good liar," he sighs. "But I know one thing."

"And that is?"

"He likes you."

Your head whips in his direction. "Don't mess with me."

"I'm not!" He squeals. "Seriously, he's bad at showing it, but I know him. He gets a certain way around girls he likes."

"You better not be bullshitting me," you point at him. "Because I will be taking that and sprinting with it."

"Mhm, go for it." Martin puts his arms behind his head, acting suave. "I'm good with this type of stuff. It's a heavy gift to bare."

"Didn't Mandy have to make the first move with you?"

"She told you about that?" He sulks. "I told her not to..."

"Bros before hoes." You throw your hands up defensively.

Deciding you've had enough of this rascal, you throw your lacy cover up over your bikini and walk down the beach to meet the object of your desire halfway.

"Hey," you greet, digging your toes in the sand.

"Oh, hey," he replies. You catch a glimpse of him looking at your legs from over his shoulder. "Welcome to my humble abode."

You eye the limp sand castle he's building with one of the empty margarita cups you guys ordered a round of earlier.

"Looks structurally sound," you joke, plopping down next to him.

"It's a work in progress," he defends himself. "Here is the start of the moat, and here's the tower I'ma save a damsel in distress from.”

"And who's the damsel in distress?"

"I don't know," he says, turning to make eye contact with you. "She'll make herself known sooner or later."

You raise your eyebrow and wonder if there's some deeper meaning that you're supposed to decode beneath his expression. Then, you remember Martin's words and shake the thought from your head.

The two of you work on improving his architectural masterpiece. It proves to be a difficult task considering the fact that the ocean waves keep knocking the castle walls down. Perhaps the location should've been reviewed before you sunk so much time into perfecting it. All you know is that every time he leans over to fix something on your side and your thighs make contact, your stomach flutters.

The Curaçao sun sets and you guys pack up your belongings, stopping by the bar to grab one last mixed drink before heading back to the hotel. Martin attempts to carry Mandy bridal style and trips, sending them straight into a bed of flowers. He says it was because of his flip flops in an attempt to cover up how much of a lightweight he is when it comes to alcohol.

With rosy cheeks and tired limbs, you say your goodbyes to the couple at their suite and make your way back to your room. Hamzah offers to walk with you so you're not alone in the dark and you accept his gracious offer because his shirt is tossed over his bare shoulder, long forgotten. Oh, and your safety, of course.

"My feet are killing me," he groans. "I stepped on, like, a billion seashells."

This triggers a "sally sold seashells by the sea shore"-off between the two of you, keeping you entertained while you clumsily make your way up the stairs of the hotel. You may or may not have been swaying your hips a little extra when you were ahead of him.

Hamzah insists on walking you to your room even though his is a floor lower. When you make it to your door together, you say goodnight and enter the air-conditioned room with a sigh.

You immediately strip and step under the shower head, washing the sand and sunscreen off of your body and massaging your sore extremities. You'd gone sight seeing with the whole gang for the past three days and it took a toll on your body. Despite that, you were the happiest you'd been in a long while. It was a good kind of exhausted. Content.

When you step out of the shower and into a complementary robe, you hear a sudden knock on your door. You frown because you were certain you had placed the do-not-disturb sign on the handle. You put slippers on and shuffle over to open it.

"Hey, again," he sighs.

Your eyes widen, "Hamzah. What's wrong?"

"I lost my card for my room," he explains as you let him in. "And my ID's inside, so I couldn't even prove that it's my room to the front desk."

"Shit," is all you can say. "What do we do?"

"I tried calling Martin ‘cause the bookings are in his name, but he didn't pick up. I think they knocked out already."

He sits on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. "And I'm still fucking tipsy."

This makes you laugh, even though you know you should be sympathetic towards the poor guy. He lifts his head to look at you and smiles.

"I'm glad you think this is funny," he says, leaning back on his elbows. "Because in case you hadn't already pieced it together, that means I gotta sleep in here."

Your heart skips a beat and the laughter fades from your throat. "But there's only one bed."

He furrows his brows in thought. "I can sleep at the foot of the bed."

"No, you freak, you're not a dog," you say, sitting beside him. "Y'know what? We'll just share."

"Is that okay with you?" he questions. "I don't wanna, like, overstep..."

"What other choice do we have? And I'm certainly not letting you sleep on the floor."

"I guess you're right."

You both sit still for a moment, eyes on everything except each other. It's cliche, really, but you couldn't let him wake up with a crook in his neck or something. Then the next day of activities would be sullied. At least, that's what you tell yourself.

"So.... can I use your shower?"

"Yeah, go ahead," you say. "But, um, do you want to borrow some clothes, or?"

"I doubt your clothes would fit me." He snorts. "I'll go buy something from the gift shop."

"I think I packed a pair of comfy sleeping shorts if you want to try?"

He shrugs, so you walk over to your luggage and search for the shorts. You find them bunched up underneath one of your dresses and cover your mouth with your palm. It was a good thing they were stretchy because they definitely were not going to be his size.

You hand them to him and he holds them up to inspect them. Then he looks at you with squinted eyes.

"Thanks." He retreats to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You take a deep breath and decide to go watch some TV.

Once you hear the water turn off, you cross your legs nervously. The door cracks open.

"This is crazy," Hamzah shouts. "They fit!"

He steps out fully and your breath hitches. He stands there, water still dripping from his curls and onto his chest, only in your tight shorts that barely reach the tops of his thick thighs. It was like a replay of the beach, but better. You cross your legs tighter and try to avoid staring for too long.

"Yay."

He dries his hair with the towel and asks if there's a spare toothbrush. You point to the drawer below the sink and avert your gaze when he bends over to grab it. He finishes up and walks over to the bed.

"The shower floor is destroyed. I think I had 3 pounds of sand in between my ass cheeks."

You burst out laughing and so does he, climbing under the sheets. "Me too, honestly."

You sit up against the headboard, watching some random Dutch family show that was on. You don't understand much, but your phone is charging so you have no choice but to tune in. Hamzah pretends he knows what's going on and creates a riveting plot for the characters that is infinitely funnier than whatever they were actually doing. At some point, the both of you start yawning. You decide it's probably best that you sleep, even though every part of you would love to stay up all night and listen to him ramble on.

You grab some pajamas from your suitcase and turn to him.

"Could you...?" You gesture for him to turn around.

"Oh, yeah, course." He lays on his side facing the wall.

You quickly throw on an oversized tee and shorts, wincing when the bands of your underwear smack loudly against your skin.

When you're fully situated in bed next to him, you turn the TV off and nestle into the sheets. You stay on your side and he lays on his back. All there is to hear is the sound of your breaths and the crash of the waves from the open window.

"Today was fun." He yawns, running his palms over his sun-kissed face. "I wish we could stay here forever, just doing stupid tourist-y shit and hanging around the beach."

"I know," you agree. "I'm glad I got to come on this trip with you guys. I really needed it."

Your chin is tucked under the blanket. He blinks slowly and even in the darkness, you see his big brown eyes find yours.

"Well, I'm glad you came, too." You don't know if it's just the amount of drinks consumed between the two of you, but you swear you see his eyes on your lips. "I like spending time with you."

You don't know what to say, so you say nothing at all. He turns onto his side after one final "goodnight" and the two of you fall asleep in the glow of the moonlight.

a/n: did i have to include the one bed hotel room cliche? no. did i anyway? i’m just a girl… lmk if u liked it or if u hate my guts and want to curse my bloodline !!!

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzah x reader #martin and hamzah #thatmartinkid #slushy virus #slushy noobz #hamzah fic

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pukefactory · 13 hours ago

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(Absolutely don’t do this if you aren’t comfortable) ENA (Dream bbq) getting drunk with reader?

•☽────✧˖°˖ FIZZY VALLEY ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation of Headcannons Featuring Drunk Salesperson Ena X Reader

★ Character(s): Salesperson Ena (Ena: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): Mentions And Descriptions Of Alcohol

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ You should’ve known something was off when Ena invited you to what she called “a high-stakes engagement strategy brainstorm over beverages.” You were picturing coffee. Not tequila. Not her slamming two shot glasses on the bar and declaring, “Let’s reframe the concept of reality, darling.” She drinks like it’s a performance review—firm eye contact, exaggerated praise, and PowerPoint levels of misplaced confidence.

☆ Once Ena’s a few drinks in, her Salesperson side becomes so aggressively charming it’s like being smothered in coupon codes. “If you subscribe to this partnership now, I’ll offer you unlimited emotional support and complimentary hand-holding,” she hums, voice like cherry soda and half-suppressed giggles. You try to hide your flustered expression. She sees it. She logs it as “high conversion potential.”

☆ Her Meanie side doesn’t come out often at first—until she tries to order fries, but the kitchen’s closed. Suddenly she’s slamming her forehead on the bar, sobbing, “I AM THE TRAGIC EMBODIMENT OF CORPORATE WASTE—WHERE’S MY SALTED PRODUCTIVITY?!” You offer her a peanut. She throws the bowl at a breathing taxidermy moose.

☆ “Here’s your performance feedback,” she slurs, twirling a swizzle stick like a laser pointer, “You’re hot. You show initiative. You opened a door for me once. I will die for you.” You tell her that’s not how feedback works. She pulls out a clipboard from her suspenders and tries to make you sign a form titled “Love Contract (Beta).”

☆ She draws gimmicks on napkins. Terrible ones. Drunk ideas like “emotionally sentient office chairs” and “a pyramid scheme where everyone sells little hats.” You try to say “maybe we shouldn’t do this.” She claps a hand on your back like a frat bro and shouts, “WRONG ATTITUDE, PARTNER. THINK BIGGER.” Then she draws a diagram that’s just the word “VIBES” in a circle.

☆ She stares at you for a full minute, eyes glassy, voice flat: “Are you in the mood for shared assets and mutual annihilation, or should I put on my mask again and pretend not to like you?” You blink. She blinks. Her red side winks. You are either about to get kissed or yelled at. Or both. Probably both.

☆ The bar has one of those ancient karaoke machines. She picks a glitchy jazz remix of the Windows 95 startup sound. Halfway through she forgets the words (there are no words) and starts yelling improvised business jargon in rhythm. “Synergize my dividends, baby! Let’s OUTSOURCE THE PAIN!” Someone in the back cheers. You cry.

☆ Her Salesperson side leans over the counter, cheeks flushed, voice soft and too sincere: “Do you think people like me more when I smile? I’ve been smiling all night. It hurts now. But I—I want to be liked. I want you to like me. For me. Even if I mess up the pitch.” And her Meanie side chimes in: “GØD, I hate being real.”

☆ You’re not sure what triggered it—maybe someone said “quarterly”—but suddenly she’s sobbing into your shoulder like a malfunctioning LinkedIn ad. “I DIDN’T ASK TO BE A PRODUCT OF CAPITALISM! I just wanted to sell fruit. Or stickers! Or happiness! But now I’m selling ME!” You rub her back. She hiccups and asks if you’d still like her if she was “just a weird triangle girl with debt.”

☆ The bar’s quiet now. Her hat’s fallen off. You’re holding her upright and she’s murmuring nonsense like, “Let’s invest in each other’s feelings… diversify the pain into smaller dividends… I’ll build a company out of your laugh…” Then, barely audible: “You’re my best client. Don’t ever unsubscribe.” You smile. You don’t say anything. You just let her rest.

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lilacwants · 10 months ago

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it had to be you.

notes: aaron is one of my favs & this frank sinatra song reminds me of him!! enjoy :’)💗 summary: hotch unexpectedly falls for his intelligent and kind coworker, discovering love in an unlikely place. warnings: aaron being a softie, tooth-rotting fluff.

Aaron Hotchner was not a man who believed in serendipity. As Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, his life was governed by logic, structure, and an unwavering commitment to justice. Emotions, especially romantic ones, were neatly compartmentalized, kept under strict control. That is, until you walked into his life.

It was a Wednesday morning, the BAU office bustling with activity. Agents were preparing for the latest case, the sound of clicking keyboards and hushed conversations filling the air. Hotch was in his office, reviewing a case file when you knocked on the door, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

"Got a minute?" you asked, your eyes reflecting both determination and warmth.

"Of course, come in," he replied, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk.

You closed the door behind you and took a seat, placing a folder in front of him. "I think I found something in the victimology that might tie the cases together."

Hotch took the folder and began to review the contents. As he read through your meticulous notes, he couldn't help but be impressed by your keen insights and thoroughness. It wasn't the first time he admired your work, but today, something felt different. There was an unfamiliar flutter in his chest, one that he quickly brushed aside.

"This is excellent," he said, looking up to meet your gaze. "I think you're right. This could be the link we've been missing."

You smiled, a genuine expression that reached your eyes. "Glad I could help. Should we present this to the team?"

"Yes, let's do that," Hotch replied, rising from his seat. He followed you out of the office, his mind lingering on the way your presence seemed to light up the room.

As the days turned into weeks, Hotch found himself drawn to you in ways he hadn't anticipated. It wasn't just your intelligence and dedication that captivated him; it was the way you treated everyone with kindness, the way your laughter filled the room, the way you made even the darkest days seem a little brighter.

One evening, after a particularly grueling case, the team decided to unwind at a nearby bar. Hotch usually kept his distance during such gatherings, preferring to maintain his professional boundaries. But tonight, something pulled him to join in. As he entered the bar, he spotted you sitting at a table with the rest of the team, your laughter ringing out above the din.

"Hotch, over here!" you called, waving him over.

He smiled and made his way to the table, taking a seat beside you. The conversation flowed easily, and for once, Hotch allowed himself to relax. As the night wore on, he found himself stealing glances at you, each one reinforcing the growing realization that you were different. Special.

When the team began to disperse, you and Hotch were left alone at the table. You looked at him, a question in your eyes. "Walk me to my car?"

"Of course," he replied, standing up and offering his hand. You took it, and the simple touch sent a jolt of electricity through him.

The walk to the parking lot was filled with easy conversation, but there was an undercurrent of something more. As you reached your car, you turned to face him, your expression serious yet tender.

"Aaron," you began, your voice soft, "I've been meaning to tell you something."

He held his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "What is it?"

You smiled, a touch of nervousness in your eyes. "I... I think I'm falling for you."

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Hotch felt a rush of emotions he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a long time. "You have no idea how much I've wanted to hear that," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I think I'm falling for you too."

You took a step closer, your hand finding his. "So, what do we do now?"

Hotch smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile. "We take it one day at a time.”

As you stood there under the soft glow of the parking lot lights, Hotch realized that sometimes, the most unexpected moments led to the most beautiful outcomes. And in that moment, he knew that meeting you was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

#criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotcher imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #— lena writes 🔖

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

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A Man Called Danger 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You avoid drama, you avoid confrontation, and overall, you avoid men. But some men can’t be denied. ~ short!late 30s reader

Characters: biker!Bucky Barnes

Note: I have no chill.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The morning comes too soon as you toss and turn through the night. You drag yourself out of bed and wrap yourself in your housecoat before braving the cold floors of the house. It isn’t a big place but it traps draughts like a tundra cavern.

You put on a pot of coffee to brew and go through your typical routine. That day is different as you listen for Eva. You told yourself last night, you’re going to lay off. You’re going to let her figure herself out.

As you take a jar of prepared overnight oats out of the fridge and fish out a protein bar for the mid-afternoon, you hear your sister sniff. She yawns as she enters. To your surprise and relief, she dressed, presentably so. She leans on the other side of the counter and flicks her lashes.

“Coffee?” She asks, sounding only a bit desperate.

“Some left,” you confirm.

She grumbles and comes around to get her own mug and pours with another yawn. You could say it. I told you so. I told you not to stay out late for your first day. At least she’s awake.

“Good luck,” you say as you zip up your small lunch bag.

“Right,” she turns and leans on the granite and blows over the mug. You peek over your shoulder as she narrows her eyes. “How did you find me last night?”

You withhold a sigh. You don’t want to argue. You don’t need her walking into her first day in a mood.

“Eva, we can talk later.”

She’s quiet, “really? You’re tracking me?”

You grab your mug, “I really need to get ready.”

“Sure,” she scoffs.

Silence roils and you make yourself face her. “I deleted it last night, okay? I meant it. You’re an adult. You’re going to do what you’re going to do.”

“You still did that,” she says.

“I did and I’m sorry,” you admit. “I won’t make excuses. We can’t keep doing this.” You chew your lip and tap your fingers on the porcelain cup, “I just hope this works out. It’ll be nice for you to have some extra cash.”

“Sure,” she shrugs.

You leave it. She’s going to simmer for a while. In her shoes, you would too. You take your coffee into the bathroom and put it on the counter. As you open the mirror to grab your face cleanser, you wince. You blow through your lips as you shut the reflective door.

You put the bottle down and untie your house coat. You roll up your camisole and cringe. You gently touch the tender spot along your ribs. It's bruised pretty good. The bone hurts too but you’re not too worried about a break.

You shudder and ignore the soreness as you go through the steps. Cleanse, moisturise, tone. Brush your teeth, figure out your hair. Then only a swipe of mascara, a tint of lip stain, and a subtle kiss from your blush stick. Natural but something. You were never one for the whole primer to highlighter parade.

You put on a striped blue blouse and a pair of grey herringbone pants. You spritz a bit of jasmine body spray over yourself then go to get your lunch and purse. You step into your leather loafers and shrug on your beige jacket.

“Eva, am I driving you?” You call down.

“Coming,” she scuffles around unseen before she appears.

If she isn’t in the best mood, she does look her best. She’s added a rosegold chain to her skirt and sweater combo, and a pair of slingback kitten heels, some earrings, and her face and hair are just perfectly done. Not too much, not too little. Her freckles peek through and give her a little extra character.

“Wow, you look nice,” you praise.

“Really? You look dead inside,” she snickers.

You’re relieved that she’s joking. You take it with a shrug, “Time of death, I’d say ten years ago.” She rolls her eyes, “you bring something to eat?”

“Nah, I looked up the place. It’s near Sage. I’ll go there.”

“Okay,” you accept. You’re not sure where she got the money to do so. You eat in chronically but she’s always out with her friends getting all the fancy lattes and fusions.

You head out, not used to the company. It's about time she got something going. She worked at the dentist office for a summer in high school but she hated her boss. You told her that she probably always will. Lord knows you’re no fan of yours.

“No pressure, but try to make this one work, Eva,” you say. “I called in a favour for it.”

“I know,” she snips. “You don’t need to remind me. I didn’t ask, you know?”

“I’m not—I just—I only want the best,” you resign. “I shouldn’t project. I know you will do wonderfully.”

She blows a raspberry, “alright, cheesy.”

You steer along the usual route. Her building is only a block from yours. You drop her off like you would outside school. Her teen years were rough. For you, but not her. After you left her with your mom, you made sure she got to graduation. You feel like you owe her so much more for abandoning her for so long. If you hadn’t though, would you be here? Would you be able to get her out at all?

You continue down to your office building. There’s a loud rumble behind you. A motorcycle. You hate the things. They remind you of someone you’d rather not think of. Not to mention they’re noisy and put out pollution like crazy.

You flip on your blinker as the early morning rider skims past you. Your parking past dangles from the rear view as you find a spot in the grid. You gather up your things and ready yourself for another day.

You march inside and opt for the stairs. You try to skip the elevator at least three times a week. Your job keeps you idle far too much. Even with a standing desk. As you climb, your breath picks up and the bruise on your side throbs. You should’ve popped some advil.

You get to your floor and get yourself set up. You raise the desk and straighten the standing mat. You sign into your station and start down the new list of orders. As you ease into the morning, others arrive and groggily do the same.

Your fingers skitter over the keyboard in a flurry. As you send another request to the mail dock, a shadow appears in your peripheral. Mr. Walker leans the corner of your desk. For a moment, you wonder if he has a brother or cousin that likes to troll the bars for young girls.

Your boss puts his other hand on his hip. Even with your desk raised, he dwarfs it with his size. You pause your typing and look at him.

“Morning, Mr. Walker,” you say.

“Morning,” he returns. “I didn’t even see you here, hiding.”

That’s the problem. Standing, sitting, no one notices you behind the double monitors.

“Big day, huh?” He asks.

You stare at him, confused for a moment.

“Yeah, Hansen was saying your sister starts today?”

“Right, uh, yeah,” you affirm. “Thanks, again. I really appreciated the referral.”

“You’re a hard worker,” he says.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Hansen is a bit of a hard ass. I should’ve warned you.” He adds.

You nearly blurt out your first thought; look who’s talking.

“I’m sure she’ll do fine, she is your sister,” he remarks as his fingers curl around the corner of the desk. “Really kind of you to take her in.”

You don’t think you’ve ever spoken so much to Walker. Not since you asked him to put in a good word for Eva. Even then, he kept to his short replies and grunts.

“She’s family,” you say.

“Sure, but... I don’t know. Thought you would already have one of those,” he replies. You tweak a brow. “Kids, husband? I always sort of assumed...”

“A woman my age, yeah.”

“I wouldn’t... no, not because of that, I just... you’re very responsible.”

“Thank you, sir,” you shift on your soles. “I was just getting started on that Lafayette order.”

“Mmmm,” he hums and tilts his head. He drags his hand down his tie. He’s a big man. Most people are compared to you but he’s gargantuan. “Always working hard.”

“Yes, sir,” you look at your screen and click on the spreadsheet, changing the cell colour of the last completed order.

“Let me know if there’s anything else you need from me,” he slaps the corner of your desk then struts off.

You stay focused on your screens. That was strange but you’re not stupid. He’s reminding you of his favour. He wants you to remember that you owe him. You’re sure you’ll be picking up overtime to pay him back.

Work rolls on. Dull, repetitive, but it pays the bills. You eat your oats at your desk as you make your way through the daily rota. You can’t help but notice Mr. Walker’s frequent trips to the break room. It tempts you to grab a coffee yourself as your eyes burn but you resist. You're trying to cut back on caffeine.

When the day ends, your protein bar sits beside the base of your monitor. You’re hungry but you can wait for supper. You sign off and lock your desk. You check your phone. No messages from Eva. Is that good or bad?

As you come into the overcast afternoon, the day weighs in your shoulders and hips. All day you can’t wait to be done but by the time you’re free, you’re exhausted. You dig out your keys and traipse along the row of bumpers to your car.

You hit the button to unlock the Honda and the roar of a motorcycle tears through the air. To your surprise, it only gets louder. You have the door open as its shadow rolls up behind your car. You throw your bags into the passenger seat and ignore it. That is until, the engine quiets and the steel beast doesn’t move from behind your vehicle.

Don’t tell me Eva hopped on someone’s bike. She would. A final act of rebellion before she surrenders to corporate purgatory. You look over, further disappointed by what really awaits you.

The man in leather undoes his helmet, vintage without a visor or anything. He tucks it under his arm and slides off his sunglasses. You recognise him. That’s not good.

His jacket is zipped to his chin but you’re certain that gold medallion hangs against his chest. It’s the same man as the night before. The one that was a little too late. How did he find you?

You shake your head and dip into the driver’s seat. Before you can close the door, his gloved hand is on it. He keeps it open as he steps up. You sigh.

“Sir, would you kindly move your bike?” You drone as you ram your keys into the ignition.

“Hey, doll, just wanna talk,” he says.

“I have somewhere to be,” you reach for the door and he steps closer, inserting himself so you couln’t close if you try.

You keep your eyes aimed at the windshield. Your other hand reaches for your purse. He clucks.

"Now, you don't gotta go calling anyone. Got a few buddies on the force I wouldn't mind catching up with but I'm being good," he steps back and shows his palms. "Just curious."

"I said I'm on my way somewhere--" you begin and grip the wheel.

"To get your daughter? You're a good mom--"

You stay silent. There's not much you can say that won't make this worse. It's none of your business. Piss off. A few choice epithets.

You search the brick wall ahead of you. Your heart beats faster and faster. No matter how you avoid men, they make themselves a problem.

You grab the shifter and crank it. You hit the gas and jerk backwards. You hit his bike and it crashes with a clatter. He let's go of the door as the door jars him.

"The fuck?" He exclaims.

You have just enough room to turn through the empty spot next to you. It's a deep spin of the wheel but you manage to redirect and roll past his bike.

As you swerve around and set the car straight, you glance over. He rubs his shoulder as he watches you, approaching his overturned bike with stunned steps. To your surprise, there's a big grin across his face.

Shit.

You stomp the pedal and tear out of the lot. You don't look as you turn into traffic and you squeeze the wheel until your knuckles hurt. What the fuck!

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #a man called danger #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #biker au #au #marvel #avengers #mcu #captain america #winter soldier

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yanderedrabbles · 16 days ago

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Yandere Movie Week [review]

Day 1 - Fear (1996)

Yandere Score: 8/10

Overall Score: 8/10

Fear does exactly what it's supposed to. Not perfectly by any means, but well enough that I don't mind spending an hour and a half in its world.

A very fun world too - cute fashion, a great score, pleasing cinematography and a male lead who slowly becomes more despicable the longer the film goes on. Alyssa Milano, Mark Wahlberg and Reese Witherspoon look incredible the entire movie. And I guess their acting isn't bad either.

We start off with a man out on a jog. And we know it's going to be a thriller because a) shaky cam and b) very dramatic music just two minutes in. Great start. After that, we're introduced to Nicole (Reese Witherspoon), a high schooler with a slightly strained relationship with her dad and teenage angst lite.

She's cute. The girl next door with a daddy's girl bracelet and a kid brother who loves her. If she didn't have the bad luck of running into a bad man, I'd say things would have worked out just dandy.

But no such luck. Not for you kid.

Enter David.

He walks on screen to audible screams from the audience (me). He's hot. And the way he's introduced is hot. Shady bar, music in the background, leather jacket delinquents playing pool. From the get go, he screams bad boy. Rubbing (read: jerking off) his pool cue - at hip height - while looking at our female lead? C'mon, that's too easy.

I won't go into detail, but they obviously end up in a relationship. And it's hot stuff. At one point, he has his hand up her her skirt while they're on a rollercoaster. Yeah, we all see the symbolism. Coming (down) must be pretty fun on a ride like that, huh Nic?

It's not great the entire movie - their first conversation is stilted and awkward, filled with clichés. But the build up in tension is what does it for me.

There are plenty of little things that tip you off from the get go. David isn't as nice as he seems, not by a long shot.

It starts with a few tense looks between him and Nicole's dad. Just a father being a bit picky, right? Nope. He turns back the office clock so he can have a little more time with Nicole before curfew. He flirts with her best friend. He tells Nicole to, "Get me a coke." Bossy. Commanding.

I'll be honest, if I didn't know the synopsis of the film, I'd say dear old dad was being overly protective. Nope. Those red flags are about as red as they can get.

When things start going off the rails, the movie handles it pretty well. The scenes are decently tense, even though they're missing that little bit of careful handling that would make them terrifying.

As a yandere, David does everything you'd expect. He's manipulative. He's violent. He doesn't know where to draw the line in anything. Oh, and he's hot. Did I mention that already?

He's a Levi's and t-shirt kind of guy, with a great car, a nice voice, and biceps you want to sink your teeth into. When it comes to deranged stalkers, you can do a LOT worse.

The third act is a ball of a time. There's room for it to have been a bit more tense - it suffers from being a little too short, the twists not having enough time to breathe. The pace doesn't feel quick in the so much happening, I'm at the edge of my seat sort of way, but in the oh no, we only have the budget for thirty more minutes of run time sort of way.

Still, it's very enjoyable. David says and does plenty of very yandere things. I'm absolutely stealing some of his lines.

In terms of style, the movie is a knockout. I think it's a big part of what carries my recommendation. The cinematography is really pleasing, with lots of reds and dark greens. Very 'Seattle on a rainy day.' The sound track is totally 90's, with a nice mix of rock, pop and indie. It gives the movie a sense of place and time that exponentially improves the story.

How does it hold up as a piece of yandere media? It doesn't do anything radical or new, but the classics it sticks to are done well enough that it's worth the watch.

Oh, and David is very hot. I don't know if I mentioned that.

Day 1 - Fear (1996)

Day 2 - Secret Obsession (2019)

Day 3 - Hush (2016)

Day 4 - The Perfect Guy (2015)

Day 5 - The Boy Next Door (2015)

Day 6 - The Invisible Man (2020)

Day 7 - Til Death Do Us Part (2017)

#Yandere Movie Week Reviews #Yandere #Yandere x Reader #Yandere Movies #yandere blog

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hanjisung-enjoyer · 1 year ago

Text

aphrodisiacs; hhj

tags: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader, pre-established relationship, sex chocolate, messy unprotected sex, oral (f. rec), dry humping, dirty talk, squirting, (attempted) humor, aftercare, i want their relationship

you were convinced it was fake. when you and your boyfriend visited a sex shop out of pure boredom and found the chocolate bar, you had doubts that it would actually work. you weren’t sure what drove you to actually purchase the candy, but soon enough you found yourself sitting at home next to hyunjin with the candy in your lap.

“apparently dark chocolate increases your sex drive?” hyunjin broke the silence as the two of you stared at the bar, observing its label.

“yeah, but like, what else is in it?” you examined the packaging but every word sounded foreign to you. “what if we get sick or something?”

“i doubt that,” hyunjin hummed as he searched for reviews of the product. “if anything it’s just normal chocolate. but, actually… people are saying it works pretty good.” his eyes were squinted, brows furrowed as he read through comments.

you were still suspicious as you tore open the wrapping, but still broke off half of the bar and handed the other piece to hyunjin. you were breaking off a square when the sudden sound of chewing filled your ears. you looked back up at hyunjin and found him holding his part of the chocolate with a shark-like bite taken out of the whole half. “are you crazy??”

“what?” he questioned through a full mouth.

“hyunjin, you shouldn’t be eating normal chocolate like that, nevermind drugged chocolate.” your palm hid your face as you sighed out.

“it’s not drugs. it’s sex chocolate. it’s different,” he said matter-of-factly with an accusing glare towards you. you decided to pick your battles on this one, choosing to respond with another deep sigh. he finished his half of the bar and got up, stretching his arms up. “i’m gonna shower. let’s see if this thing really works when i’m done, hmm?” he leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead, a suggestive smirk playing on his lips. you shoved him away playfully but smiled back at him, dismissing him to his shower.

it’d been about a half hour after the two of you had eaten the chocolate, you steadily finishing off your half while hyunjin showered. you laid in your bed after changing into a sleep shirt and small shorts. the water turned off, finally, and your ears perked up to a faint sound from your shared bathroom.

“babe?” you called out, but you didn’t get a response. another few minutes went by until the bathroom door swung open, hyunjin’s lower body wrapped in a towel.

hyunjin definitely seemed off, his eyes focusing down to his feet as he approached you on your bed. he sat next to you and you just stared, concerned. “it works.” his voice was barely a whisper.

“hm?”

“the chocolate, it works.” you noticed the red flush on his cheeks, obscured by his long hair covering his face until he pushed it back with his fingers; his long, slender fingers weaving down his wet locks of hair. your eyes then landed on his toned torso, milky white skin glistening from the wetness of his shower. down a little lower was his groin area that sported a delicious tent underneath the towel.

you don’t know when your mind started to feel so cloudy, but all you did know was that the sight of your boyfriend next to you was not helping in the least.

“i’m so hard it hurts,” hyunjin admitted in a whimper, refusing to make eye contact with you. “… do you feel anything?”

you opened your mouth to reply, but your eyes were fixed on his plump pink lips, parted slightly as he breathed out. he finally looked at you after you didn’t respond, catching your intense stare in the act. you barely even noticed how his cock twitched at the sight of you, distracted and unable to form words by the sight of him.

you only broke out of your trance once hyunjin leaned closer to you, staring up at him with big doe eyes and pink cheeks. “do you feel anything?” he repeated under his breath, now taking his turn to flicker his gaze down to your lips.

you only slightly nodded your head before he captured your lips in his. while hyunjin typically enjoyed slow, romantic make-out sessions that led to intimate sex, it was apparent early on that this wouldn’t be your typical routine. it took little time before the kiss became intense, his tongue licking into your mouth like you were his last meal. he palmed at your waist, picking you up to shift you onto his lap. his hands lowered to your hips and you arched your back at the touch. his breathing turned to airy moans as you rolled your hips against him, his hands supporting your movements to grind you down. you felt his cock throb underneath the towel.

hyunjin let out a small whine and tugged at the waistband of your shorts. you pulled away slowly, your eyes heavy under a haze of lust. “off,” hyunjin whimpered desperately. you obeyed, raising off his hips to pull the fabric down your legs. hyunjins mouth gaped open as he stared at your panties, causing you to look down to where he was fixed.

you were drenched. your arousal soaked the thin fabric of your white panties, outlining the shape of your pussy as it stuck to the cloth. small dribbles of your wetness dripped down your inner thigh, falling where the towel laid over hyunjins cock.

hyunjin nearly pounced at you, quickly turning you both over so that you were pinned underneath him. he lowered himself down your legs, lapping your juices clean off your thighs, leaving hickies and love bites in its place. you couldn’t stop the moans that escaped your mouth when you looked down at him, a feral look in his eyes once he began to lick your pussy over your underwear. you swore he was about to lick a hole into your panties before he finally ripped them off your legs.

your thighs clenched around his head as he ate you out with a fervor you’ve never seen from him. “hyune- oh my god-“ you panted, high pitched whines leaving your throat. hyunjin’s towel had been long discarded, leaving his pretty dick on display. his hips rut against the mattress, red tip leaking precum. you felt your high approaching embarrassingly quick.

your mouth fell open in a choked sob once his fingers circled your clit, his tongue still desperately fucking into your hole. the stimulation was getting to be too much, but when he swapped his fingers to thrust inside you while his tongue licked around your sensitive slit, your orgasm slammed into you like a truck. you all but screamed out as he continued finger-fucking you through your high, his pace barely slowing as he breathed out hot moans into your heat. once you smacked at the top of his head, signaling the oversensitivity, he chuckled out breathlessly and laid on top of you.

“.. so good, so good.” his mouth found yours once again, resuming your intense make-out as his hands shimmied up your sleep shirt. he was insatiable, wet cock twitching against your leg but focused entirely on your pleasure.

“hyune, put it in,” you pleaded in between moans as his fingers found your nipple. he rolled the bud in between two fingers, chuckling softly at your helpless response.

“put what in?” he smirked against your lips, pulling away to observe your fucked-out expression. ironic, since he didn’t look all that there, either.

“don’t tease!” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you attempted to roll your hips up impatiently. hyunjin grabbed your hips and pushed them down into the bed, where he positioned his cock between your spread lega. you let out another groan as he opted for sliding his cock between your folds. of course it felt good, but you needed more. “hyunjinnnn!”

“you have to tell me what you want, baby,” he dipped his head in between the crease of your neck and began to suck on the skin. “what do you need from me?”

“i need your cock,” you breathed out, voice low and humiliated. hyunjin raised an eyebrow, an amused grin playing on his lips. he continued to roll against your slit, your wetness coating his shaft. “pleasepleaseplease, baby i need you inside me, i need you to fill me up or i’m-!”

hyunjin cut you off by thrusting into you in one quick motion, bottoming out immediately. a deep groan vibrated the skin of your neck as you moaned out loud. hyunjin gave you a moment to adjust to the sudden intrusion before he set a quick pace off the bat. “f-u-uckkk…” hyunjin grunted out between each thrust, pulling away from you to sit up with his head leaned back. his eyes were squeezed shut and his jaw fell slack as allowed himself to fall deeply into his heightened senses, falling so deeply into the feeling of you.

hyunjin was a beautiful sight in general, but there was something intoxicating about the way he looked while he fucked you. especially now, under the influence of the aphrodisiac, he looked simply in utter bliss. a red flush had spread from his cheeks and down his chest. his skin was still damp from the shower, but now it was hot with sweat that built up from the intense pace he rutted into you at. his lips were swollen red from kissing you so fervently.

he was just stunning, especially when he looked so messy and fucked out like this.

“you feel so good,” hyunjin growled out, his breath broken and punctuated by each thrust into your heat. you were completely speechless at this point, mind blank of nothing but hyunjin and his cock. “so good, you feel so… hnng, fuck.”

you’ve never came more than once in such little time before, but you surely felt the familiar knot forming in your core as hyunjin lost himself above you. your cunt throbbed around his length, warning him of your approaching orgasm that you couldn’t get the words out to do. hyunjin took quick notice and pulled out, leaving you crying at the empty feeling.

before you could protest he quickly maneuvered you onto your stomach, pulling your ass up to level with his dick as he leaned back on his knees. he swiftly re-entered your warmth and slammed into you at a nearly inhumane pace. you didn’t realize you were drooling until you took note of the pillow underneath your cheek, damp with your saliva.

two of hyunjin’s slim fingers travelled down between your legs and circled your clit, slipping you completely into a submissive space as you bordered the edge of an orgasm. the front of his body pressed against the back of yours as his thrusts became shallow and messy.

“‘m gonna cum, baby, ‘m gonna fill you up so good,” he slurred out, pressing wet open-mouthed kisses upon your shoulder blades. “.. fuck, keep clenching like that, cum with me, ohhh my fuck-“

the desperation in your boyfriends words, the way his hot breath tickled your skin as he panted against your body paired with the speed hyunjin rubbed your clit was what tipped you over the edge. your voice broke out in a cry and your vision went fuzzy, body convulsing underneath him. you felt your legs shake and an unfamiliar wetness spray your thighs and stomach, sending hyunjin into an equally intense orgasm.

hyunjin moaned out filthy words of praise and soft ohhhs as his hot cum painted your insides, his cock throbbing until he was absolutely milked dry. he rutted into you slowly until the both of rode out your highs, leaving you both panting, wet messes.

it took a while before either of you spoke, but hyunjin was the first to do so. “… that chocolate worked better than i thought it would,” he laughed. he pulled out cautiously, leaning back to observe the way your mixed fluids leaked out of your spent hole.

“what just happened?” you sighed, your face falling into your palms. hyunjin giggled, causing you to laugh with him. he moved you on to your back, smiling and kissing your forehead before cuddling up next to you. “what are you so giddy for?”

“i didn’t know you could squirt.” the grin on his lips only widened as you shoved his shoulder playfully.

“i didn’t either!” you whined, hiding your face in his shoulder.

“we should go back to that shop.” he wrapped both of his arms around you and held you tight.

“what you should do is take another shower, you feel disgusting.”

“come with me for round two?”

“you’re funny.”

a/n: i cant believe the seungmin drabble i posted yesterday got 100+ notes!!! thank u guys sm🤍🤍 i tried my best with this one but i got frustrated bc i lost a good chunk of what i wrote towards the end and then rushed the rest but i hope it’s still okay:) thanks for reading!!!

#skz smut #stray kids smut #skz hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 10 months ago

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Hi, would you write something about Nat or Yn being a cop and the other is a criminal and always try to get arrested.

Since the first time the felt something and thats why they wanted to get arrested and spend time with the other person, and if you want to write smut, the cop wanted to interrogate the other one without cameras and well, you know hahaha

Police Officer!Natasha Romanoff x criminal!fem!reader

Summary: You'll do anything to get to see her, even commit petty crimes

Word Count: 907

Warnings: Mentions of petty crimes, mostly just these two pinning for each other

A/N: I could only see Nat as a cop for this. There was no way it was gonna be the other way

Natasha Romanoff leaned back in her chair at the police station, reviewing the day's reports. She rubbed her temples, the fatigue of a long shift setting in. Just as she was about to call it a night, her phone buzzed with a message from a fellow officer.

"Got a familiar face in holding. Thought you'd want to know."

Natasha's heart skipped a beat as she read the message. She knew exactly who it was. You. The notorious small-time thief who seemed to have a knack for getting caught whenever Natasha was on duty. She couldn't deny the strange pull she felt whenever you were around.

With a resigned sigh, Natasha stood up and made her way to the holding cells. As she approached, she saw you sitting on the bench, looking almost...expectant. You glanced up as she entered, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"Officer Romanoff," you greeted, your tone light and teasing. "Fancy meeting you here."

Natasha crossed her arms, trying to maintain her stern facade. "Y/N. What is it this time? Shoplifting? Trespassing?"

You shrugged nonchalantly. "A little bit of both, actually. I guess I'm just not very good at this whole 'crime' thing."

She raised an eyebrow, studying you. "Or maybe you're just looking to get caught."

You met her gaze, your smile softening. "Maybe. Or maybe I just like spending time with a certain cop."

Natasha felt a flush creep up her neck, but she quickly masked it with a stern look. "You know, Y/N, there are easier ways to get my attention."

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. "But where's the fun in that? Besides, I think you like the chase."

Natasha couldn't help but smile at that. There was a spark between you, an undeniable chemistry that she found hard to ignore. "You know, this can't keep happening. Sooner or later, you're going to end up with more than just a night in a holding cell."

You stood up and approached the bars, your eyes locked on hers. "Maybe. But for now, I don't mind. As long as I get to see you."

Natasha shook her head, a mix of frustration and amusement in her expression. "You're impossible."

"And you're the best part of getting caught," you replied softly.

Natasha sighed, unlocking the cell door. "Come on, let's get you processed. Again."

As she led you down the hall, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. Being with Natasha, even in these circumstances, made everything else worth it. And Natasha, despite her stern exterior, couldn't deny the small thrill she felt every time you were around.

Maybe this was unconventional. Maybe it was risky. But for now, it was enough. And in the quiet moments between arrests and interrogations, both of you found something that made the chaos of your lives just a little bit brighter.

Natasha unlocked the cell door, her grip firm on your arm as she led you inside. You could feel the tension between you, the unspoken feelings simmering just below the surface. As she turned to leave, you couldn't help but act on impulse.

"Natasha, wait," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

She paused, turning back to face you, her eyes searching yours. "What is it, Y/N?"

Without thinking, you stepped closer, closing the distance between you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked up at her, and before she could react, you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers.

For a moment, Natasha was still, caught off guard by your bold move. But then she responded, her lips moving against yours with a fierce intensity. Her hands gripped your shoulders, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss, her dominance unmistakable.

You melted into her embrace, feeling the power and control she exuded. Natasha's kiss was overwhelming, consuming you entirely. She pushed you back against the cell bars, her body pressing against yours as she took control of the situation.

Her hands moved to your wrists, pinning them above your head with a strength that made you gasp. Natasha broke the kiss, her breath hot against your lips as she looked down at you, her eyes dark with desire.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N," she murmured, her voice low and husky.

You couldn't help but smile, even as your heart raced. "Maybe I like living on the edge."

Natasha's lips curved into a smirk as she leaned in, her mouth brushing against your ear. "Just remember, I'm the one in control here."

With that, she kissed you again, her lips claiming yours with a possessive hunger. You surrendered to her, letting her take what she wanted. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the cell, not the arrest, not the risks. All that existed was the fiery connection between you and Natasha.

Finally, Natasha pulled back, her breathing heavy as she looked at you with a mixture of frustration and longing. "You make things complicated," she said, her voice softening slightly.

You smiled, your eyes locked on hers. "And you make things worth it."

Natasha shook her head, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Stay out of trouble, Y/N. For both our sakes."

She released your wrists, stepping back and regaining her composure. As she left the cell, you watched her go, a sense of satisfaction warming you. The line between law and desire had blurred, and for now, that was enough.

#ley answers anons #ley writes #ley writes drabbles #ley writes requests #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #cop!natasha romanoff #police officer!natasha romanoff

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solbaby7 · 5 months ago

Note

I know that the bar is swamped, but if you find the time and have the liquor, could I please have a neat Manhattan with a salt rim?

(Idk how to say this but like, submissive neat? If you're alright with that)

lololol “if you’re alr with that” babe, i’m foaming at the fucking mouth for it. this is gonna be a wee bit more than a blurb lemme tell u.

not edited teehee

[ “don’t make me put you on a leash” + smut + sub!az ]

-> BLURB BAR <-

Usually, you don’t mind needy.

The grabby hands pawing at your thighs. Kisses that linger on your neck, nose tracing the curve of your shoulder. Hushed words crooned into your ear to distract from the way eager fingers graze at the stitching of expensive lingerie.

It was his reprieve.

Azriel’s favorite way to unwind after spending his days as the dutiful spymaster. With you, he gets to lay down his weapons. Turns off the killer instinct that never seems to comprehend the meaning of a break. Hangs up the battle worn leathers that eats, sleeps, and breathes the contours of Azriel’s body.

But, with you? With you, he doesn’t bother about trivial things like power or strength. He relinquishes his title, shuns his duties, turns his back on honor and responsibility in favor of sinking down on his knees and turning all that over to you.

And usually, you don’t mind.

But the day had been especially stressful; never-ending and the open mouthed kisses trailing up the soft flesh of your inner thigh wasn’t loosening the tight knots embedded along your shoulderblades. “Knock it off.” You grumble softly, an achy spine hunched over glossy wood while weary eyes struggle to decipher the words written on parchment. Knuckles rub against your eyelids, toes nudging at the neat taper of his waist to push him off.

The gentle correction does no good for an impatient pet and Azriel only listens for but a second.

He tries again, going a different route when applying pecks to prettily pedicured toes. A palm curls around your ankle, fingers digging into your soles until a groan of approval rips free from your throat without permission.

Just like that, the damage is already done.

One sound becoming the equivalent of throwing him a bone. “That’s—that’s actually…really nice, Az.”

The praise satiates a need within him, urging him to keep it up, to try harder—to do things that had you gasping and yelping and screaming out raving reviews. It becomes an addiction; fueling an obsession that teases the fine line between devotion and fixation.

Every touch is annoyingly controlled, a soldiers training bleeding into the bedroom when giving his all on a task. He strives to be the best when coaxing knots coiled deep within the muscle of stiff calves, swiftly distracting from the way he suckles marks into the softness of supple thighs. “Feels good?”

“Mmhm,” The grip on your pen wavers, loosens, then falls altogether when Az urges his shadows through your hair; phantom fingers applying generous pressure to your scalp until lids flutter closed and your back slumps fully into your chair. “Just what I needed.”

It’s like adding gasoline to a fire.

You forget yourself when indulging yourself in its warmth; ignoring now flames grow when stoked—how they burn when life is breathed into it. How it eats and eats; singeing and charring, wringing out the life from the air and replacing it with soot.

By time you realize the damage, Azriel’s too far gone. Already high on the kerosene you splash at him and happily huffing in the fumes. “Can make you feel better.” Curious massaging morphs into outright groping, his hands eating at whatever he can hold as his tongue follows behind to lick up the crumbs. “Please, let me taste?”

You should say no.

He doesn’t exactly deserve it. Touching without permission. Refusing to sit still. Begging for treats instead of waiting patiently like good boys should. Whining when you weakly start pushing him back. Growling when you attempt to close your legs.

They’re all red flags—behaviors that warrant correction and yet you ignore them all when Azriel looks up at you with those eyes.

Like vats of honey in the sunlight, absolutely oozing with sticky sweet submission; staring up at you like you were an angel gifted from the heavens.

You suppose the day had been long.

And even gods praise their most dutiful servants.

Teeth bite into the fat of your cheek as feet neatly perch at the edge of your seat, knees parting open as you give into selfish desire. “Fine.” He’s all but drooling before you can get the word out, staring at the skin bared to him. You glisten under faelight, ego inflating when you catch the way Azriel ogles the thin slip of cotton separating you from his prize. “Only a little though. Have to make sure you save room for dinner.”

Dinner be damned for the only feast Azriel craved was between your thighs and he wastes no time digging in once given the go ahead.

His tongue paints a trail up the seam of your pussy and the harsh line of your shoulders finally eases. Two fingers spread you open while the slick muscle circles the rim of your entrance and that rigid knot in your spine finally knows peace.

Satisfaction melts your discipline down more than acceptable, that much becomes apparent when Azriel’s muffled moans shift into sloppy grunts. His nose is all but buried in your cunt, arousal shiny on his lips and dripping down the curve of his chin.

It doesn’t take long for it to get sloppy. Spit sliding down the cleft of your ass, smearing along inner thighs and on the seat cushion below. But you forget to care when you notice the flush of Az’s cheeks, the shallow heave of his chest as the need to coax those wrecked sounds from your mouth outweighed the need to breathe. “Hey,” You huff out, peering down at him, stomach fluttering when he only burrows himself deeper, tongue fucking into a drooling hole. “You need to come up for air.”

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

Common sense and rationality left itself at the door, tossed away intentionally out of sight so he has a reason to keep eating and eating and eating.

This time you don’t melt under the pleasure, thighs clenching around his head, smushing his cheeks as you ban access to your fountain of youth. “The mouth on you is pure sin, might almost make up for the fact that you’re a shit listener.” He’s a right mess, cheeks red and lips swollen. One hand furiously stroking at a desperate prick. His mouth opens to complain—maybe to beg, but your thighs only squeeze tighter, teeth digging into the soft part of his cheeks in gentle correction. “By the cauldron, I’ll leash you.”

It only stokes his fire, fresh logs added to keep the inferno from flickering away; abdomen flexing as his body reacts to the threat.

Please, please, please! Azriel’s eyes scream.

You should say no.

Though, restraint had never really been your strong suit.

“If you’re so willing to rob yourself of air for the sake of a cunt, then I suppose we’ll just have to see how long you can hold your breath.”

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