#and he invites her out to one of his and boss' nights out and it goes from there

[princessmaeee]

Hi!!! May I request a GD x Fem!Reader, inspired by the skit where he played a villain/mob boss. Reader is there with him and the guys at the variety show, enjoying herself as she watches the guys play the silly games and loving how adorable her Ji-Yong is. But then she sees him come out and act all tough, her breath catches. Just when she thinks her bf can’t get any hotter. The others see her reaction and tease her relentlessly but she’s only got eyes for her man and his incredibly acting skills. How does he react when he learns that she’s all flustered by him acting all tough & possessive?

Villains Are Hots

Author's note : Hiii Sweety, thank you for the Request And sorry for the Wait ! I tried to search for G-Dragon Acting as villain. I found things, but I'm not sure If what I came with was exaclty what you wanted but I did my best ! I hope You will Enjoy it ! ♥

You were invited to a Variety show with all the other members of Big Bang and also Taeyang’s Wife, Min Hyo-Rin. The public knows you and the Leader, Ji Yong, are dating for almost a Year now and GD publicly said some weeks ago how serious this relationship is. You were more than happy he finally told you about you publicly. You didn’t rush him or even ask him this before, cause You knew how problematic it could’ve been if his fan reacted badly to the news, but happily for both of you, everyone accepted it, or almost everyone. The most recurrent criticism was about you not being an idol and just being a nobody, but you didn’t care and so did Ji Yong.

It was your first ever Tv appearance and you were sort of nervous, especially since none of the staff told you what’s gonna be about, but Hyo Rin seemed just as confused as you. She was in this industry for years and no one wanted to tell her what the show was going to be about.

When the animator called your name, you made your way on stage to your seat and the animator had a little conversation with you to introduce you a little bit more to the audience.

«-So, apparently you and G-Dragon have been dating for a moment. How is it to date a legend like him ? »

You blushed and gave a look to Hyo-Rin. You never did this before so you kinda start to feel anxious. You don’t want to say something wrong.

«-Oh, it’s … nice. I mean Ji Yong is really adorable and caring. He’s also really hard working. Sometimes I have to remind him to eat or to go sleep or even just get some rest. Otherwise he will literally work 24/24h. -And tell me how you met ? -It was three years ago. I had an Internship at YG for my work and I accidentally bumped into him on my first day. Well, in fact he bumped into me. I had an iced coffee in my hand so the impact made me spill it all over my clothes. Ji Yong apologized many times and got me a new outfit and also bought me another coffee. It was really sweet of him.-Yeah, that’s really kind. And did you recognise him when you bumped into each other ? -Not at all, I was too anxious, I barely had slept the night before so I didn’t pay attention. -And when you realised it, How did you react ? »

The animator continued to ask you questions until they switched to Hyo Rin, asking her about her relationship with Taeyang. Since she’s also an artist, she felt more comfortable with the questions. She was used to it, not like you. When question time was over, the animator introduced Big Bang and they appeared on stage, singing and dancing on their last released song. It was the first time you saw Your boyfriend performing live. You saw a lot of videos but never the live one. It made your heart beat faster and you smiled more as some sparkles lightened up in your eyes.

When they finished singing, it took place on the other side of the stage and the Animator started asking them questions about their dating life and for Taeyang and GD how they felt about having their partner on the stage today. GD smiled and answered ;

«-I’m happy she can finally see this other part of me. Performing is a big part of my life and of who I am, so having her there to see me live gives me motivation to give 110% of myself. »

You blushed and hid your face with your hand, smiling more. 

«-Congrat, GD, you made her blush, teased Taeyang. -Don’t say too much, she's gonna run away, continued Daesung. -Oh but you didn’t notice, but the camera did, when you were performing, how she reacted. Let’s watch Y/N reaction. »

On the big screen behind you, your face appeared and you could see your reaction wile looking at your boyfriend who was performing. You enjoyed it. As you look at your own reaction, you hide your face again in your hands, more embarrassed.

«-How are you feeling Y/N ? Asked the animator. -I don’t know. I’m not used to seeing myself on such a big screen. It’s kinda intimidating. -Keep an eye on her, I don’t think she’ll be ready for what’s next, said You boyfriend, with a big, to the animator.»

You gave him a confused look.

«-What have you planned ? You asked him.»

He just smiled at you and gave no answer. While the time off, you go back backstage. Ji yong passed close to you and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek before whispering in your ear.

«-You did an amazing job on stage, it seems really Natural for you. »

You smiled, happy to have given a good performance only by being yourself. You didn’t have time to answer Ji yong, he already left to go into the changing room with the other members. 

When you came back to the stage, the decor had changed. You were more and more confused about what will happen next. The staff showed you where to sit and you did. When the show restarted, the animator asked you.

«-So Y/N who’s your favorite Villain in any movies you have seen before, and Why ? -I think it’s ( Favorit’s villain name ) but I liked a lot more of the villains. Sometimes they’re not pure evil, they are just really broken. But also because I think they all have a lot of charisma. -That’s what we heard and that’s why we prepared a little sketch, with actors you will like of the ( scene name of villain you like ) from ( your favorite movie ) »

You started to make connections in your head and when the scene started, you saw your boyfriend, dressed with clothes who looked a lot like ( favorite villain name ) playing your favorite scene. You already love the character so much, but seeing your adorable Ji Yong as this evil character, playing like a pro, saying all hsi verses, it made your heart race more. You felt your cheeks becoming hot. For a moment you forget you were on stage with cameras, you just looked at GD performing with such admiration. Now you could definitely tell the difference between G-Dragon, the performer and Ji Yong, your adorable boyfriend. You can also say how much you like them both. 

Whe is performance were over, the animator looked at you and asked you something, but you didn’t pay attention, you eyes were still on your boyfriend who looked at you with a little smirk. Fuck that was hot.

«-I think you broke her, T.O.P said to his leader, when he noticed you didn’t answer the question the animator asked you. »

Your face became more red as you came back to reality, asking again what the question was.

«-What did you think of this little performance ? -It was… »

You looked at GD again and smiled at him.

«-It was hotter than the original. I’m glad to have such a talented Boyfriend. »

[bloodyodyssey]

WHO ROCKIN W/ PONYTAIL MILF YURI

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat 5

shy!reader really wants to tell construction worker!rafe how she feels but what if he doesn’t feel the same way?  

c/w: the L word, mostly fluff, her being an overthinker & getting a little jealous, pda, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2.3k 

sooo this is the last part! (might write some extras but i make no promises) & just wanted to say how much i appreciate everyone who reads my stuff. the first part was my first piece of writing on this blog and i was overjoyed by the warm welcome and all the kind comments, asks & reblogs (nothing goes unnoticed by me!) so thank u so so much for being so lovely <33

series masterlist

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It’s been exactly two weeks since she came to terms with the fact that she’s in love with him.

She hasn’t been able to sleep all that well and has tried her very best to avoid Rafe, albeit fruitlessly since he insists on driving her home every day and on top of that, often invites himself over or asks her to stay the night at his— not accepting her excuses about being tired and having to wake up early.   

“Why don’t we jus’…be tired ‘n wake up early together then?” his grin is playful. And how is she meant to refuse that?  

And if everything he does wasn’t already suffocating her enough, he’s now helping with the renovation of the cafe since her boss wanted to expand the business; turn the small coffee shop into a bigger one in hopes of more space for new tables and seats, because the amount of clients they got was beginning to be too much for everyone to comfortably enjoy their stay. 

Therefore, she now has to work in the same building as him every single day because (unfortunately) the renovation work isn’t disturbing the current cafe from running nor decreasing the number of customers with a sweet tooth or a craving for their usual morning coffee.   

And none of this would be a problem, if Rafe wasn’t walking around all sweaty and dusty, biceps bulging whenever he’d lift wooden planks over his shoulder or carry around different equipment— looking as attractive as ever.

And with these newfound lovey-dovey feelings trying to break through the surface, she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to stop herself from ogling him or keep her rapid heartbeats to herself whenever he wanders over for a chat on his breaks. She tries to act as normal as she can, but she can tell that he’s starting to pick up on her excessive rambling and stuttering, flushed cheeks and anxious fingers fixing her hair every two seconds whenever he’s talking to her.  

In fact, she’s certain he can see right through her, knows that she’s hiding something. She can practically see how he wants to bring it up more often than not, but seemingly hasn’t found the right way to approach the subject yet, and she can sense that she’s running out of time— can’t tolerate lying to him for much longer.   

She’s been thinking this whole thing through over and over again, to the point of her head hurting while she bakes Rafe’s favorite lemon raspberry cookies as a distraction and because he’s been working so hard she wants to surprise him; see the soft smile that makes the whole world glitter whenever he graces her with it.  

And she wants to tell him, wants him to know how deeply she feels for him; how much she appreciates him but every time she tries to open her mouth, the words seem to evaporate before they’ve even begun to sprout on her nervous tongue.

Because what if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if this is all just a casual thing for him and she’s making it into something more than it is? These bleak thoughts turn her mood sour— a pout forming on her lips as she concentrates on topping the flamingo pink icing with fresh blueberries, adding the final touches to their most popular vanilla cupcakes.

And as she’s taking Rafe’s cookies out the oven, she comes to the conclusion that she really only has two options; she either tells him or she doesn’t.

If she tells him, there’s a very high possibility that he looks at her with a crease between his brows and words about not wanting for this to be anything serious hitting her against the face. And if she doesn’t, then…well she doesn’t really have anything to lose, does she? Except maybe the what ifs haunting her for the rest of eternity.   

She tries to get rid of the tormenting thoughts with a shake of her head as she sets the cookies off to cool down, and begins to place the finished cupcakes onto the display counter, trying her hardest to just forget about it all.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - -  

Later that day, when Rafe is contently munching on the cookies she plated for him and happily distracting her from work, someone approaches the counter; a girl with glossy lips and shiny hair.   

“Hi! Could I please get a mango matcha latte?” her eyes are as green as grass as she places her order.  

“Of course, would you like it with ice or no ice?”   

“With ice, please.”

“Coming right up,” she gives the girl a polite smile when her payment goes through.   

“You’re working on the renovation?” the girl’s attention then turns towards Rafe, making Y/N’s gaze flicker over to them as she puts blended mango into the bottom of a tall glass.  

“Yeah, the cafe’s gon’ be twice as big as it’s now,” he drawls, putting the half-eaten baked good down.   

“That’s so cool. You know, I’ve always wondered how construction workers are so strong. Do you go to the gym a lot?” a saccharine voice reaches Y/N’s ears, making her brows furrow while she measures the right amount of matcha powder, trying to appear nonchalant.   

“Uh, yeah, yeah, also think m’workdays sometimes count as workouts,” he scratches the back of his head as she lets out a giggle. It wasn’t that funny, Y/N thinks with a roll of her eyes.   

“Hey, I was actually wondering if maybe you’d wanna hang out sometime? Could give you my number?”   

Something muddy swirls in her stomach in response to the girl’s straightforward question. She doesn’t particularly appreciate the fact that she’s blatantly hitting on Rafe right in front of her, even if she’s painfully aware that they’re not together and the girl probably assumed they were just friends, which they are.  

However, she can’t prevent herself from turning grumpy from the mere notion of him being interested in someone else. After all, the girl is stunning and she wouldn’t really blame him if he wanted to at least consider her offer.  

“Uh, m’actually not available right now,” he offers an apologetic smile when the girl’s shoulders slump.   

“No? That’s a shame. Well, let me know when that changes?” she gives him a flirty smile that makes Y/N quietly scoff as she pours the milk into the mix.  

“S’not changing anytime soon,” she mutters under her breath, making both of their heads turn towards her.   

Fuck, did she really say that out loud?  

“Sorry?” the girl asks, muted jade settling on her suddenly tense form.

“Oh, um— jus’ that…here’s your drink,” she peeps out in her state of embarrassment, feeling Rafe’s eyes burning into the side of her face as she sticks a paper straw into the beverage; the ice cubes clinking together when she hands it out to her.

“Right, thanks,” she says before looking over to Rafe once more, seemingly expecting him to give her an answer of his own.  

“Uh…yeah, what she said. Not changin’ anytime soon,” his grin is wide, making the girl’s cheeks flush.  

And when it’s just the two of them again, she flits her eyes down— busying herself with a wooden container of tea bags she’s trying to organize, unable to face him.  

“What was, uh…what was that about?” his tone is taunting, an annoying smirk playing on his features.  

“Nothing,” she quickly dismisses, avoiding his gaze.  

“Nothin’? You’re tellin’ me you weren’t just real fuckin’ jealous two seconds ago?”  

“N—no,” she can’t even convince herself with the pitiful denial.  

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, m’all yours, alright?” he chuckles as he stuffs the rest of the cookie into his mouth.  

“How did you know I jus’ was cravin’ these?” he asks around the mouthful as she tries to brush aside the sudden tingle in her ribcage.   

- - - - - - - - - - - - -  

A few days later, when her shift is coming to an end, her other coworker already beginning to take orders and telling her she’s free to go, she drags Rafe behind the counter and practically forces him to taste test a new recipe she’s tried out; a walnut carrot cake with lime buttercream. 

“Wow, this is…amazing. The sourness in the frosting is so good,” his voice is muffled by his chewing and her heart warms in response to his commentary, never one to shy away from showering her in compliments.  

“You think so? I actually added the lime jus’ cause I know how much you like citrus fruits so, m’really glad you like it,” she beams at him.  

“Yeah? Made this jus’ for me, huh? Can I ask why m’gettin’ this special treatment all of a sudden?” his tone is playful, tongue licking over his bottom lip to clean up the bit of icing lingering there.   

“Well, cause I love you and—” she blurts out before her entire body tenses; mouth hanging open in shock and wide eyes slowly moving to look at him, trying to verify whether he heard it or not. Of course he did. She wasn’t exactly quiet now, was she?   

“You…you love me?” he raises his brows in surprise.  

“Uh…I— I didn’t mean to…I mean, you probably don’t feel the same so doesn’t really matter. Just— um...jus’ forget I said that. I don’t know why I—”   

“What are you talkin’ about? You think I spend most of my time with you cause I…what? Dislike you? You can be so silly sometimes, you know?” he scoffs, setting the golden fork down on the porcelain plate.  

She stays silent. 

“What I’m sayin’ is that m’obsessed with you. I mean, you’re even in my fuckin’ dreams, right? But listen, love has always been a little, uh, tricky for me cause m’relationship with my family has always been, uh, complicated? But if me wantin’ to spend every second of my day with you means I love you too, then, shit, maybe I do. But I need some time before I can really say that shit, you get that?” his words are honest and raw and she thinks her rattling heart is going to beat out of her chest.  

“I— um…yeah, of course. Take all the time you need,” she finally manages out.  

“Hey, c’mere,” he says before he’s practically dragging her dumbfounded form into his embrace; — beefy arms pulling her flush against his chest.  

“I mean, we’re basically already datin’ at this point, no? Wasn’t sure how to make it official without freakin’ you out but since you love me, think you’re all good, yeah?” 

She mumbles something incoherent in response.  

“So wanna be my little girlfriend or what?” he murmurs into her hair.  

“I— of course I do,” she speaks against his shirt.   

“Yeah?”   

“Mhm,” she hums before he tucks an index finger under her chin and lifts her face to look up at him—his thumb toying with her bottom lip before he’s leaning down and smearing a sloppy kiss against her mouth.   

“Shit, you’re so adorable, jus’ wanna swallow you whole sometimes,” he murmurs with a soft smile tugging at his lips and eyes twinkling with something syrupy in them.   

“I love you,” she mumbles, almost inaudible; words still too tender to consciously say out loud.   

“Say it again,” he practically demands.  

“Um…I love you,” her voice is nearly a whisper.  

“What was that? Think you can say it a little louder?” he teases.   

“Rafe, stop…you’re embarrassing me,” she whines, cheeks heating up.

“No, m’not. Jus’ wanna hear you say it,” his smirk is all big and smug and it makes her huff.  

“ILOVEYOU, okay?” the words mesh together like fluffy clouds in the sky and her volume is louder than he’s probably ever heard it, causing a couple of curious heads to turn and the lively chatter around them to quiet down some.   

“Yeah? You guys heard that? She LOVES me,” he’s nearly shouting, looking around with a stupid grin on his face— making her flush and hide behind her hands as a few customers cheerfully titter in entertainment.  

“Congrats, dude!” someone even yells.

“Oh my god, Rafe. Why would you do that?” her mortified eyes widen as she crouches down; trying to find shelter behind the pale-yellow counter. “M’never leaving my house again,” she complains with a glare.   

However, he doesn’t seem all that bothered by the whole thing, simply chuckling with dimples denting his cheeks— the light-hearted sound making her stomach flutter despite the humiliation crawling up her spine and making her want to vanish into the cracks on the floorboards.   

“Of course you are, m’your boyfriend now which means m’takin’ you out on a date tomorrow, yeah?” he lifts her up with a grip on her waist, pulling her flush against him while his fingertips slip underneath the hem of her shirt, smoothing over her bare stomach and making her let out a squeak.  

Then, he’s grasping her jaw in one hand and pressing his mouth on hers again— her protests withering away like a dead rose when he slips his tongue past the seam of her lips, dragging out an involuntary whimper from her, before she pulls away and hides her face in his chest when she feels multiple pairs of eyes staring at them.  

“Rafe, can we just go already?” she pleads, voice small before he’s guiding her out of the coffee shop; his hand resting on the small of her back and calming her down some. 

And despite the little scene he caused, she thinks she might just be the happiest girl on the island as he helps her climb into his truck with a honeyed kiss warming the apple of her cheek.

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 5: Night Out

You find yourself squeezed into the center of a round corner booth, Johnny to your left and Kyle to your right with John beside him. The bar is relatively quiet, even for a Saturday night. It is early, though. Plenty of time left in the night for more people to file in. Apparently they go out drinking every third week of the month, a day set aside for them to be together and celebrate another month of success. It’s sweet that they invited you, if not a little nerve wracking - you’re not exactly sure how much they plan on drinking and you’ve been known to be rather… sloppy after one too many.

You nervously adjust your top while Johnny yaps about the equipment sales person with the incredible ass. It’s hard not to squirm being packed in between them, hyper aware of the width of your hips and the size of your arms as they squish against far more toned, muscular limbs. A mean itch in the back of your mind lectures you about taking up too much space - about inconveniencing the people around you. About the optics of the pitiable fat girl tolerated by the handsome men around her.

An elbow to your arm finally knocks you out of your daze. “Och! There he is!”

You blink, following Johnny’s gaze to the man climbing into the booth beside him. It takes your brain a moment to catch up, processing the person in front of you. Your eyes turn to saucers as you realize it’s Simon - signature tattoos, piercings and all - just without his usual surgical mask. It shouldn’t make that much a difference, he still has that low brow and big dark eyes that slide over to you and make your stomach flip…but now you get the addition of his crooked nose, broken more than once and not set right, a small cleft scar leading down to a part of pretty, pink lips that quirk up in the corners when he catches you staring. A few scars scattered across his sharp jaw you hadn’t noticed before and a light layer of blonde stubble around each engraving on his face.

“You’re pretty!?” You gasp, words tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them. You bury your face in your hands while the others (Johnny) burst out in a fit of laughter. Simon’s shoulders shake in that signature, barely audible chuckle as he settles into the booth. Suddenly you feel a little less self conscious about the amount of space you take up in comparison.

John orders a round for everyone. Some light mixers to sip while you talk. You stick to listening, mostly, while the boys talk shop. You pick up a few personal tidbits here and there - specifically about Simon’s apparent sweet tooth as Johnny teases him about going through an entire package of licorice in one sitting. You file that away for later. Apparently John got his start after he enlisted in the military and got several very shitty tattoos during the first couple of years. Dropped out to get an apprenticeship, figuring he could do better. Kyle rolls his eyes, as if he’d heard the tale a few too many times.

“Where ye thinkin’ of lettin’ Kyle ink ye?” Johnny leans in close, breaking out of the group conversation.

You tilit your head. “Haven’t really thought about it. Wherever he’s comfortable, I guess.”

“Givin’ him free reign? Tha’s dangerous, bonnie. Might put it somewhere scandalous.”

“Wouldn’t be the first.” You blurt, regretting it immediately when you see that impish sparkle in his eye.

Johnny dips closer to you, shoulder pressing against yours. “Oh? Thought ye were a good girl, hen.”

“I’ve got a couple you haven’t, and will never get close enough to see, MacTavish.” You laugh.

“Is tha’ a challenge?” He grins, hand just barely ghosting over your thigh.

You shrug, face hot. ”Even if it was, you’d lose.”

There’s probably something deeply wrong with flirting with your coworkers while your boss sits a foot away, but your skin is too warm and your drink tastes to good for you to focus on that fleeing thought for long.

“From the gentleman at the bar.” A woman appears in front of your table, sliding a glass of pink cocktail toward you.

You stare at it before glancing up to meet a pair of dark eyes. He’s handsome, smiles and nods before going back to his own drink. Something cold runs down your spine, the bar warping for only a second. Your lip catches between your teeth before you push it away.

“That’s bold.” John scoffs, a twitch in his brow.

“Not gonnae take a free drink, bon?” Johnny teases, batting at your arm. “He’s no’ half bad lookin’. I’d take a bite.”

“I don’t take drinks from strange men.” You snap, a little harsher than you meant as you push the glass even further. “You can have it if you want.”

There’s a beat where you keep your eyes square on the table, waiting for an insistence that you take it, that you talk to him, that you just do what he wants because he seems nice enough. That you’ve ruined the mood by being sensitive, like you always do. Instead, Johnny grabs the glass and downs whatever fruity cocktail was inside.

“Alright, if I pass out ye have t’ carry me now.” He laughs, the conversation returning to the same pace as before. You just look up at him for a moment - his eyes bright and unwavering.

The more you’re with them, the more guilt you feel for doubting them in moments like this - but, equally, the more unreal they seem. Too perfect of men for you to have stumbled across. Too good for something as damaged as you. There’s a pang of loneliness at the thought.

You’re one again pulled from your thoughts - well, redirected, more like - when John’s arm comes to rest around the back of the booth behind Kyle, fingers brushing against your shoulder ever so slightly. You’d been noticing it more recently - John’s tendency to hover. He doesn’t cling like Johnny but he stays just a hair away. Fingers ghost over your arms and a hand hovers over your back. Sometimes he holds the back of your seat, leaning over you while looking at the appointment book, that wafting scent of leather and petrichor enveloping you.

He doesn’t look at you, talking across the table to Simon about some business thing. At least you think, you really hadn’t been listening. Maybe you should have.

“We should go check out that new place up the street.” Kyle announces, scrolling through his phone. “They’ve got great room for dancin’, apparently.”

“Is dancin’ the mood for the night?” Simon sighs, tilting his head forward. Even without the mask his expression remains placid. Difficult to read.

“Aye!” Johnny wraps an arm firmly around your shoulders. “We’ve got t’ take our little lass out on the town!”

You scoff, cheeks warming at the idea that you’re theirs. Their lass - their girl. Fuck that last drink really good to you, huh?

Johnny walks with an arm sling around Kyle’s waist ahead of you, John laughing and shaking his head at them. Simon hangs back a bit as you walk, taking small, slow steps to stay beside you with his hands in his pockets. The same as when he walks you home every night you close together. You silently revel in the safety of it - of having this massive man in your shadow to block out everything else. You risk glancing up at his face - so new to you despite knowing each other for weeks. His skin glows in the passing street lights.

So not fair that he’s been hiding lips that kissable.

That’s totally the drinks talking.

“Y’alright?” He murmurs, glancing down at you.

You jump a bit, not realizing you’d been staring, eyes wide and hazy. Since when we’re you such a lightweight? “Yeah.”

“Still bothered about that guy?”

You blink. In all honesty, you’d completely forgotten him. Too busy enjoying your time with your boys. Your boys. Your boys. Their girl. That feels really good.

“No.” You shake your head and grin. “Sorry for being weird about it.”

“Y’weren’t.” Simon shakes his head solemnly, lapsing into a comfortable silence as you walk. It’s made up for by Johnny’s forceful cover of Pink Pony Club.

The place is packed when you get there, Simon having to use his bulky form to push through and secure you all a standing table. Not that you really need it, it’s mostly so the four of you can do a few shots - as per Johnny and Kyle’s insistence. Yours too, but it’s more fun to use them as an excuse to down two green tea shots back to back. You’ve never been good at saying no anyway.

“C’mon, luv.” Kyle herds you toward the dance floor and you follow, not unaware of Johnny right at your back. Your head buzzes, the world feeling loose and slow and comfortable around you. That wall you might otherwise have up long gone as you’re safely pinned between two of your favorite boys.

Kyle’s hands trail down your sides to knead at your hips, guiding them to move in tandem with his. Johnny presses closer to your front, hooking your arms up around his neck. If you were any more sober, you might have thought twice about the way you grind back against Kyle and press your chest into Johnny - your coworkers - but as it stands you couldn’t care less. Your body buzzes with a comfortable warmth, the music seems to course through your veins. It’s so easy to let them guide you, to melt into them, to tilt your head back onto Kyle’s chest and grin up at Johnny’s big blue eyes.

It’s the loosest you’ve felt in a long, long time

Johnny says something you can’t hear, his head ducking and lips grazing the shell of your ear. A touch starved part of you wants to whine, to throw yourself into him and burrow into his chest. Bury yourself right between his ribs - surely it’s warm in there. The very sun itself housed where his heart should be.

Maybe you’re reaching the water-only time of the night.

You tilt your head, half-lidded eyes making contact with Simon’s. They’re boring into you, seemingly memorizing the way you three move against each other. Each step and sway stored away for future reference. Surely it’s in your imagination.

Eventually, you shuffle around - trading yourself for Kyle as John’s big hands come to rest respectfully on your waist. The music slows a bit, at least, making it easier to dance with your boss without feeling like you’re crossing a boundary. Not that you would mind crossing that boundary. You’d leap over it if you could - those pretty blue eyes smiling down at you in the multicolor bar light. Leather and petrichor fill your nose. There’s a spice to it that isn’t usually there. Your drunkenness sets your fingers alight as they trace up his strong arms to rest on his shoulders.

“Glad y’came tonight, dove.” John says, barely having to shout over the music. His voice just has that commanding timber to it that makes itself heard no matter the circumstance.

You give him a crooked grin. “Me too.”

John just hums, swaying you carefully. People don’t do this, a small part of you thinks. Don’t dance with their bosses. You look down to where you’re pressed together. It feels good, though. You wonder if you’re more to him than an employee - if he considers you a friend despite your inequalities of age and rank.

“Is it silly to say that I’m really happy?” You mutter, not expecting John to hear over the music.

“Not at all.” He shakes his head, dipping lower so you can hear him more clearly. “I’m very grateful that we get to have you.”

Somehow your face gets hotter and in an attempt to calm down you glance over his shoulder to where Simon still stands, leaned against the wall with a glass in hand. His eyes rake over the crowd, sometimes resting on Johnny and Kyle, sometimes you and John, sometimes they seem to just look off into the distance. A woman walks up to him. She’s pretty. Tall with dark hair. You can’t see her face - can’t tell what she says. A slimy, nosy little part of you doesn't like it, despite having no right to an opinion. Simon’s expression remains flat as he responds and she stomps away.

You turn back to John. “Does Simon not dance?”

John chuckles. “Rarely.”

You pout. “I hate that he’s all alone.”

“He’s fine, love. Promise.”

“I’m gonna ask him.”

“Good luck.” John laughs, letting you push your way out of the crowd as the current song comes to an end.

“Si!” You call loudly over the music, movements sloppy.

“Hm?” He cocks a brow.

You lock your hands around his wrist like a child trying to pull their parent toward some bright thing that caught their eye. He doesn’t pull away like a more sober you might expect. “Come dance with me!”

“I don’t dance.” He scoffs.

“Please?” You beg, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. Not nearly as effective as Johnny’s but they’ll have to do.

“No.” Even in your drunken state you notice the corner of his mouth quirk up before he forces it back down.

“You can’t stand over here all night!”

“Watch me.” Simon huffs.

You pout and let your fingers drift over his forearm, all muscle and so very vascular. His skin is warm under your hands, the ridges of scars dancing across the pads of your fingers - invisible to the eye under his tattoos.

“Well, then, I’ll just have to do what you like to do!” You say with a discerning nod, clambering up onto the stool at the table beside him.

He frowns. “Don’t let me take you away-“

“I don’t wanna leave you alone!” You continue to pout, the cotton in your head only making things fuzzier outside of your new single minded goal: Hang Out with Simon.

He looks you over for a moment, something passing through those dark eyes of his. They’re so mysterious - so deep. Like the Mariana Trench. That’s the really big one, right?

Simon sighs and downs the last of whatever golden drink was in his glass, setting it on the table beside you. “Fine. I’ll give you one song.”

You’re practically preening as you pull him into the crowd, hand firmly around his thick wrist. Part of you briefly acknowledges a few jabs from Johnny and Kyle as you pass them on their way toward the bar.

A squeak escapes you as Simon suddenly turns you around, pulling you close and leading you to the beat. He’s good. Weirdly good. You feel a bit like a floundering fish all of a sudden. It definitely doesn’t help that you’re a lot more drunk than you felt five minutes ago. He smells like spice, too.

“So much for can’t dance!” You laugh.

“I said I don’t dance, bird. Nothin’ about can’t.” An arm loops around your waist, suddenly twisting to dip you low - holding your weight so easily. You fall into a giggling fit, face hot as you playfully push at his chest.

As the night goes on, things get fuzzier. Blurred. There’s one last shot with Johnny and Kyle and all you know is an overwhelming sense of joy.

A/N: Don’t love love this part but it’s cute and this is supposed to be my easy to write fic so I’m not stressing about it. Suuuuper excited for the next couple parts tho🤭

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), some more pining, cussing (bkg-typical), mentions of food, we're finally meeting the bakugous!, angst (if you look closely)

words. 4.8k (see why i had to split it...)

a/n. we have one more chapter to go, y'all! i'd love to hear your thoughts about the series so far, as well as how you think it's gonna end <3

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 9

It doesn’t elude you that the air entering your nostrils and lungs through the shaky inhale you take is nothing short of crisp.

It’s early evening in the suburbs where Bakugou’s parents live just in the peripheries of Musutafu. The sunset that graced you through the man’s car windows on the way over was now nowhere to be seen, having been replaced by the sight of the waning gibbous with a sprinkle of stars dotting the night sky.

Something you rarely see in the city, you think to yourself.

Your head craned towards the infinite ceiling, you continue to admire the view, or at least try to do so—the act seemingly becoming more and more impossible by the second, what with your nerves shot and your stomach churning with anticipatory anxiety.

Bakugou must have noticed your wobbly breathing, because the man side-eyes you for a beat before finally speaking. “What are you, nervous?”

You turn your head to look at him, taking in the sight of your boss in a dark brown sweater with a white collar peeking out at the top in an effort to ground yourself, although you find you’re not feeling any calmer.

You hesitate for a moment, before heaving another jittery, somewhat resigned, sigh.

No point in hiding the truth now.

You shrug, “Yeah…”

“Don’t be,” he promptly replies, catching you off guard. His voice is serious and deceivingly firm when he finishes it off.

“They’re gonna like you.”

You don’t get the chance to think about how to respond, let alone react instinctively because the front door opens as if on cue, and out comes a relatively tall woman with ash blonde hair, followed by a slightly taller brown-haired man.

You’ve barely gotten a word in when you get scooped into the arms of the woman you now identify as Bakugou Mitsuki, and when she pulls away and keeps you at arm's length—beaming, no less, in what you hope is happiness—it takes everything in you not to gawk at how stunning the woman is.

“…You’re overwhelming her, honey,” you hear the man, who you assume is Bakugou Masaru, say worriedly at your right side.

“Oh, right,” Mitsuki hurriedly releases her hold of you and retracts her hands, flashing you a bright albeit apologetic smile right after. “Forgive me, it’s just that I never thought this day would come!”

At that, she shoots Bakugou, who’s standing beside your left, a pointed look before turning back to grin at you, “I can’t believe Katsuki has finally brought a girl home!”

You don’t have to look at the man beside you to know he’s sporting a scowl. “Watch it, old hag,” he growls.

“You watch it, child. Mind how you talk to your mother in front of your girl.”

You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you as you watch the exchange, inadvertently catching the two blondes’ attention, their gazes drifting toward you at the sound. After a brief second, and to your relief, Mitsuki starts laughing along but Bakugou only looks away in what you think is irritation.

“Well, this girl is grateful for the invite, Mitsuki-san,” you start, mustering your most thankful smile. “But I hope I’m not imposing on your family…”

Mitsuki is quick to respond with a wave of a hand, “Not at all! You’re our guest of honor. Please, make yourself at home!”

Masaru nods in agreement, extending his right hand for you to shake, which you happily do. His smile is gentle—a stark contrast to Bakugou’s default expressions, you note—when he finally invites the both of you in. As you do—eager to escape the cold—you glance at Bakugou behind you, who’s apparently already been looking at you, although he averts his gaze when your eyes make contact.

Again with that solemn expression.

That unsettling expression drops down to the bottom of your list of priorities, however, when you enter the threshold of their home. You’re immediately hit with a glorious combination of fragrances emanating from what you think is the kitchen at the far side of the room.

“Everything smells great, Mitsuki-san,” you offer, hoping the sincerity can be heard from your tone.

You think it must have because the woman instantly lights up at the comment, “Why, thank you! Every day’s not Thanksgiving, after all.”

You nod, following them along into the living room, taking a seat on the corduroy couch opposite Mitsuki upon Masaru’s wordless invitation. “It’s so nice how you guys go all out to celebrate the holiday.”

You note how Bakugou, who’s planted on the armrest beside Mitsuki, frowns at the compliment.

“What?” you ask him before you can stop yourself, curious.

“They don’t really celebrate it,” he grunts, before tossing his mother a borderline disgusted look. “The old hag is just using it as an excuse to invite you over.”

That quip grants him a smack in the head from the said “hag”. Bakugou doesn’t yelp or cry in pain, although he does let out a slight hiss. You, again, can’t help the smile that creeps on your face as you watch them.

Mitsuki is facing Bakugou as she tuts in what you think is a warning, before turning to regard you again, a grin now having replaced the reprimanding expression that had just been on her face a second ago.

It grows even wider when she says: “What do you say we leave the rest of the cooking up to the boys and we go through Katsuki’s photo albums?”

“S-sure!” you quickly respond, the entirety of the suggestion not registering for a beat until it does, your head whipping to look at the man as you blurt out: “Bakugou, you can cook?”

At that, Mitsuki’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, eyes darting between the both of you. “Wait, are you saying he’s never cooked for you before?” Mitsuki asks, incredulous.

She then turns to her son, who now has his arms crossed in front of his broad chest like a petulant child, “Young man, what have you been doing?”

“God, relax,” Bakugou groans as he stands up from where he was seated, rolling his eyes as he makes his way to the kitchen. “We’ve just been busy with work. No time for that shit.”

“Busy with work, my ass,” she calls out to him, before once again turning to face you. “And honey, there’s no need to be all formal around us. Go ahead and call Katsuki by his first name—there’s really nothing to be shy about.”

Before you can think against it, your eyes widen in surprise for a fraction of a second before you school your face into what you think is an appropriate enough expression. “R-right, sorry.”

You chance a glance at the man, who’s now hacking away at the green onions like a madman albeit quite expertly, what you think is red creeping up his face in nothing else but scornful exasperation.

“So,” Mitsuki starts, and you turn back to see her wiggling her eyebrows at you, “about the photo albums?”

Just as Mitsuki suggested, you busied yourself with photo albums filled to the brim with close documentation of Bakugou growing up while the two men finished up in the kitchen. It didn’t come as a surprise that Bakugou was a cute kid, a signature boyish grin decorating his face in the few pictures where he isn’t scowling or glaring at the camera. You greedily took in the seemingly mundane details of Bakugou’s childhood as Mitsuki narrated the backstory of each photograph, smiling and even laughing along when she cracked a joke about how her son must have been born as the proverbial grump based on how early he learned how to glower.

Bakugou didn’t say anything the entire time you pore over the albums, probably used to his mom mouthing about her only child to friends and family who are willing to listen. Before you know it, dinner is eventually served, and the dishes that Bakugou and Masaru would bring from the island countertops to their hardwood dining table looked nothing short of scrumptious. It didn’t take long for you to conclude that they tasted exactly how they looked.

“Everything tastes incredible, but the miso ramen is glorious, Mitsuki-san,” you piped up in the middle of dinner.

The woman only tossed you a pleased, somewhat knowing look. “You’ve got your boyfriend to thank for that, dear.”

You must have looked like a deer in the headlights, because the man of the hour’s parents laugh at your expression. You stole a glance at Bakugou, who only slurped at his bowl in silence, face schooled into a rather neutral countenance.

A steady conversation gradually enveloped the four of you as you went ham on dinner, and you now find your shoulders relaxing, the tension from earlier leaving your body. You discuss current events, which then leads to Masaru asking Bakugou about how the agency is fairing in light of the recent spikes in crimes. The topic then drifts to you, like what’s your family like and what your parents do for a living; it shifts afterward to how work is going for them in the fashion industry, to the couple's retirement plans, with Mitsuki waxing poetic about how they really need to be there for each other when they do retire because Bakugou doesn’t visit them enough. To that, the man only scowls, mumbling something about how he does, in fact, visit them enough, and that the “old hag’s” definition of enough is stupidly skewed.

“But enough about us!” Mitsuki completely disregards Bakugou’s retort, shifting in her seat to address you, “I’ve actually been dying to ask you this question since you arrived. I know our Katsuki isn’t the easiest—”

“Hah?”

“—guy to be around, and so I’m really glad he was able to find someone as lovely as you. So,” Mitsuki tosses you a playful look, “what do you like about Katsuki?”

You barely stop yourself from choking on the maki roll lodged in your throat, quickly swallowing it rather painfully as you scramble for the proper way to react and respond. From the corner of your eye, you see Bakugou shift uncomfortably in his seat, but he doesn’t say anything to shut down his mother or even shift the topic of the conversation.

“Uh—” you start lamely, “What do I like about… him?”

At that, Mitsuki laughs good-naturedly. “Surely there has to be something, right? Please, indulge this old lady!”

You chuckle along with her, albeit rather awkwardly, before clearing your throat.

The only way to make it out of this conversation alive and relatively unscathed is by lacing your answers with the truth.

And so you do.

“Ba—” you start, catching yourself in the nick of time, “K-Katsuki—” you pause again, hating the way you uttered his name so tentatively like it’s something obviously foreign, “—is the most dedicated person I know.”

Mitsuki only nods in encouragement, as if urging you to go on.

And right now, you find that you’re nothing if not a people-pleaser.

“He’s admirable—there’s a reason why he’s risen to the top this quickly and stayed there,” you nod, pleased at what you think is certainty bleeding into your tone. “I don’t have any problems at all leading the HR department, what with him being the best example of what an outstanding work ethic looks like.”

The room falls into a lull, and as the seconds tick by with no one saying anything, you’re starting to think you said the wrong thing when Mitsuki finally speaks up.

“That—that’s great to hear, dear, really.” She seems to hesitate for a moment before holding your gaze again, and you brace yourself for what she’s about to say next.

“…But what about outside of work?”

There it is.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Uh—” you parrot again, mentally slapping yourself for stuttering when you can just keep your mouth shut while you think of an acceptable reply like a normal, sane person.

You glance at Bakugou, who’s now looking at you in what you think is anticipation.

Despite yourself, you feel yourself flush.

Yet you’re unable to break away from his gaze when the words finally come to you.

“…He cares,” you manage to miraculously get out while Bakugou’s crimson eyes bore a hole into you. “…Deeply. And, he makes sure it shows in his actions.”

You watch as Bakugou studies you for a few more seconds as if he’s searching for something—you don’t know what—hidden amidst your features, eventually averting his gaze back to his plate.

You follow suit, looking down at your half-finished ebi tempura, suddenly feeling too self-conscious and oddly vulnerable.

It’s Mitsuki’s soft voice that causes you to look up again.

“That’s… everything I wanted to hear,” Mitsuki almost whispers, and you think if you squint hard enough you can see tears pooling in her eyes.

You shoot her a tight-lipped smile, sensing an unusual sense of uneasiness blooming in your gut.

Thankfully, and to your relief, Mitsuki doesn’t ask any more equally humiliating questions after that, the conversation having been steered to more shallow and light-hearted topics, primarily by Masaru. Without you noticing, dinner time reaches its conclusion and it’s now time to clean up.

You stand up from your chair and start gathering leftovers to stack the plates right after when Mitsuki reaches across the table and pries them off your grip. You look at her in confusion, but she only shakes her head.

“We’ll handle the cleaning, dear.”

Behind her, Masaru nods in agreement, and you’re about to open your mouth to protest but Bakugou beats you to it.

“No use arguing with the old hag. Just give it up.”

At that, you sag in disappointment—you really wanted to pay them back, even if it’s just through helping out with cleaning—but obey nevertheless, putting down the cutlery you were just about to gather into a bunch.

Now with nothing to do with your hands, you stand at the edge of the table awkwardly, watching the couple swiftly clearing out the area. Masaru seems to notice your discomfort because he speaks up.

“Hey, Katsuki,” he starts, “why don’t you show her around your bedroom?”

Almost immediately, Mitsuki beams at her husband, evidently enthralled by the proposition. You fight the strong urge to furrow your eyebrows in worry. “That’s a good idea, honey. I bet she’d love to see your childhood knickknacks, Katsuki!”

You steal a glimpse of Bakugou—or his back, really—who’s now seated on the couch with a leg propped on it.

He’s not saying anything.

Why isn’t he saying anything?

You gulp despite yourself, shifting to face Mitsuki with a grimace-smile. “It’s okay, I don’t want to make him uncomfo—”

“Come on.”

You almost get whiplash from how fast you turn to look at Bakugou, who apparently isn’t giving you a chance to argue, already walking up the stairs to the second floor. You look back at his parents, who only gesture you to go on.

Well.

You guess you’re going, then.

You trail behind Bakugou in silence, your footsteps echoing through the stairway as you go up, one step at a time. Once you land on top of the staircase, you follow him as he turns to the right, down to the door at the end of the hallway, which you now identify as his bedroom.

He pauses a few feet away from the entryway, reaching forward for the knob and turning to face you right after, an indiscernible expression etched on his face.

“Don’t fuckin’—nose around,” he grumbles, voice gruff, “or some shit.” Despite his half-hearted warning, he opens the door, leaning back against it so you can squeeze in and enter.

Typical of the King of Consistency, Bakugou’s childhood bedroom is as impeccable as every other personal space of his that you’ve got the honor of visiting. The gray walls are pristine and are only disrupted by posters of pro-heroes, mostly of All Might, but also like that of Best Jeanist and Endeavor. Piles and piles of books line the shelves at the room's corners, speckled and lightly decorated with figurines and what you think are older gaming consoles. You study the rest of the arrangements, and before you can think against it, you find yourself smiling as you survey the room, feeling a paradoxical sense of comfort blanket you.

“…What’re you fucking smiling about, dumbass?”

At the call out, the expression on your face immediately falls. You glance back at the man who’s now leaning against the doorframe, arms once again crossed in front of his chest.

“N-nothing,” you immediately retort. “It’s just that your room is so clean and well-kept.” You pause, hesitating to say the next thing, but ultimately decide to go for it. “It’s very… you.”

You don’t know what you expected him to say or do in response—an eye roll, or a lazy scoff, or a challenge, daring you to expound on what the fuck you mean “it’s very him”, maybe?

But again, Bakugou doesn’t say anything; he simply grunts.

Against your will, you feel a wave of disappointment course through you.

“…Your parents seem like such great people,” you muse, finding yourself wanting to salvage the conversation as you continue to take in the endearing details of your boss’s childhood bedroom.

Bakugou grunts again, only this time you think it’s in agreement. “They’re alright,” he grinds out, “can get a bit overbearing at times, though.”

You hum in reply, sensing a seed of happiness blossoming within you at the thought of him opening up. “I get that. But I can clearly see they love you very much.”

The man hums back, sounding deep in thought.

Your fingers absentmindedly trail the backrest of his desk chair. “Your mom said you don’t really visit as much. Is that true or was she just pulling your leg?”

At that, Bakugou heaves such a heavy sigh, that it catches your full attention. “I haven’t been here since around early this year.”

You gawk, “Seriously?”

He shoots you a glare, although there’s not much bite to it. “Don’t look at me like that. You know how it is at work.”

You nod, “…You do put in an alarming number of hours.”

“Well, it’s not like I have a choice, do I?” he immediately retorts, although the question seems more rhetorical.

Despite that, you steel yourself to answer back this time. “I think you actually do. I know of so many heroes who treat their jobs like the typical 9 to 5. Believe me, I hear things at work, too.”

“…What are you trying to say?”

His voice is so uncharacteristically small, it catches you off guard.

In return, you try to make your voice as gentle as possible. “I’m saying I meant what I said earlier during dinner. It’s admirable—the work that you do. I think that’s what really sets you apart from all the others, putting aside your flashy ass quirk.”

You take a gamble and toss a smirk Bakugou’s way.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the man was at a loss for words.

Well, there is a first for everything.

Suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed over the bold move you just pulled, you take advantage of the silence, walking a few steps towards the other wall. You carefully brush your hand against what looks like a vintage-looking All Might poster above the headboard of his bed.

“I didn’t know you liked All Might this much.”

His reply is almost instantaneous: “He’s only the best hero to exist ever.”

You, again, fail to restrain the smile that breaches your face. It’s adorable how defensive he’s become in a split second, having transformed into the diehard fanboy that he apparently is.

“Is he the kind of hero you aspire to eventually become?” you ask, curiosity bubbling in your head.

He shifts on his feet, taking a few steps in your direction. “Yeah,” he pauses, before continuing, “the kind that always wins.”

“Oh, now I know where that line from before came from.”

As if immediately knowing what you're talking about, Bakugou flushes in what you think is anger, but the more you stare at him, it becomes clearer that it’s more akin to embarrassment.

“Shut up.”

You snort, “So the philosophy you gleaned from All Might—that applies to all aspects of your life? Including being your underling’s fake trophy boyfriend?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You can’t help the giggle that erupts from you as you watch Bakugou stew in what you think is shame, squirming from where he’s standing as if he’s itching to jump and strangle your frame. The man, once again, glares at you, but if anything, you can tell he’s more frustrated with himself than with you.

Still, you find yourself feeling bad. “Sorry,” you start, fighting the urge to chuckle, “I was just kidding.”

“You’re a fucking handful, you know that?”

At that, you pout, the words tumbling off your mouth before you can rein them in. “Sorry, sir.”

“Don’t—” Bakugo splutters, “fucking—stop calling me sir, dumbass. And,” he frowns, “stop calling yourself as my underling. That shit sounds fucking demeaning.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, flashing him a grateful smile. He doesn’t return it, opting to roll his eyes and look away instead, but the corners of his lips are twitching like he’s fighting them from curling upwards.

An abrupt thought crosses your mind at that very sight of him.

And before you can talk yourself out of it, you blurt it out.

“I’m glad.”

Bakugou meets your gaze, an eyebrow raised in question. “You’re glad what?”

You shrug, fighting down the self-consciousness. “I’m glad to see you seem more relaxed and comfortable. I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I’ve noticed you’ve been extra scowly lately—if that is even a word.”

“I have not.”

“Yes, you have. The other workers at the agency have noticed, too.”

“Who the fu—”

“I’m not dropping any names,” you interject, “but some have approached me asking if we were, you know, okay?”

You peer at the man, who’s now refusing to look at you. You brace yourself for what you’re about to ask. “Are we? Okay?”

Bakugou, again, conveniently decides to be mute.

“Did I do something wrong to slight you, or something? Or have I crossed a line during that get-together with your friends that one time? Because if I have, I want you to know that I really didn’t mean t—”

“I thought you didn’t want to come over,” he cuts you off.

You freeze. “What?”

He finally meets your gaze, a frown now seemingly permanently etched on his face. “Here. To my parents’. And you’ve been acting all weird around me, stuttering and stuff.”

Shit.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Bakugou huffs, “Am I making you uncomfortable, or some shit?”

You can only gape at the man who looks so pained, as if this conversation is physically hurting him, which, it probably is, knowing him. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

He seems to notice this, because his frown grows even deeper. “What, am I?”

“No!” you exclaim, thankful to finally have your voice back. You vigorously shake your head, “No, please don’t think that. I—just—I just have a lot on my mind lately, that’s why. Explains why I’m all jumpy and stammering and all over the place.”

To your relief, Bakugou doesn’t prod any further, although you can sense a bit of suspicion emanating from the man despite your answer. He stares at you for another beat before shaking his head in resignation, opting to check his watch instead.

“It’s getting late. Let’s go downstairs and tell them we’re leaving.”

And just like that, Bakugou turns his back towards you and exits the bedroom.

Right after you followed Bakugou down to the living room where Mitsuki and Masaru were enjoying a glass of red wine, you informed the couple that you were leaving. The brunette immediately got to work, packing viands into Tupperware for you to take home despite your silent protests. Mitsuki, on the other hand, tried to convince you to stay for another hour or so, but Bakugou wasn’t hearing any of it. After finally accepting that she was getting nowhere with her case, Mitsuki called on her husband to see you out by the front porch.

With a bag of aromatic dishes in one hand, you stand in front of their doorway, not knowing what to say for the nth time in one night. You chance a glance towards Bakugou’s direction, the man having entered his car already, starting up the engine in preparation for the drive back home.

But you apparently don’t have to say anything because it’s Mitsuki who fills the air.

Her smile is so gentle and motherly that you can’t help the painful throb your heart makes at the sight. It’s quickly followed by the now-familiar feeling of uneasiness that has been revisiting you again and again since the evening started.

Still, you manage to smile back. At the sight of it, Mitsuki’s expression grows even brighter.

And her voice is low when she finally speaks.

“Don’t tell Katsuki this, but I’m glad you’re the one he’s decided to finally come meet us.” She reaches out to rub your shoulder, her smile not faltering, “I can see why.”

Thankfully, Mitsuki scoops you into another hug, sparing you the embarrassment and burden of having to react and respond with some intelligible reply to such a groundbreaking statement one can receive from any guy’s mother, no less.

At the couple’s request, you promise to visit again soon, and before you get to break character and admit to your mountain of lies in a crying heap, you beeline to the car and hop into the passenger seat.

Voice gruff, Bakugou nods at you. “Ready?”

You swallow thickly.

“Ready.”

The car ride home was silent. It felt long—longer than an hour, at least, your brain buzzing with unpleasant thoughts and stomach churning with anxious feelings the entire duration of it. You couldn’t seem to fall asleep no matter how much you tried. Eventually, you gave up trying to mid-way, opting to stew in whatever the fuck is going on with you instead.

You were so engrossed in your brooding that you didn’t notice Bakugou pulling into your apartment complex’s driveaway.

At the sound of his voice announcing your arrival, you sit up in your seat in alarm before promptly gathering your things, saying your usual quick goodbye and thank you, and stepping out of the car.

To your surprise, however, he puts the car in park and follows suit, stepping out of the vehicle himself.

You hesitate for a moment before starting the short trek toward the entrance, acutely aware of Bakugou trailing behind you.

When you get to the entryway, you finally turn to regard the man, whose eyes dart down to look directly at you, hands in his pockets.

In spite of yourself, you gulp. “Thank you… for today, Bakugou.”

He merely shakes his head, expression neutral. “I should be the one thanking you. You didn’t have to come with and suffer through all that with me, yet you did.”

“I didn’t suffer,” you’re quick to correct him because you didn’t. “I actually had a really nice time. Your parents were so kind to me, and I just—I…”

“What?”

You shake your head, unsure how to accurately phrase what you’re feeling. “I just feel bad, you know? You could be bringing home a girl that you actually like to meet your parents who they can fawn over instead of me, yet here you are presenting a decoy and fooling the people who raised you all because I—”

“Hey—”

“I roped you into pretending to be my boyfriend and now look at the mess we’ve made. And I know—”

“Stop it.”

His voice comes out so commanding that there’s nothing you can do but obey.

Bakugou frowns. “You didn’t ‘rope’ me into doing this, okay? I— We—” he hesitates, mouth opening and closing then opening and closing again before he finally just shakes his head in defeat. “I entered this arrangement willingly. You don’t have to blame yourself for anything.”

“But—”

“End of discussion.”

At that, you huff in irritation, but you know better than to argue with your notoriously stubborn boss. Nevertheless, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel the gratitude that blooms in your chest at Bakugou’s reassurance.

“Now get in there,” he gestures to the apartment, “It’s getting way too fucking cold.”

As if on cue, you involuntarily shudder, which grants you a wordless ‘See?’ from the man. With a final nod, you reluctantly follow his orders and enter through the doorway, although you don’t immediately go to the elevator hall. Instead, you stand by the windows, finding yourself wanting to make sure Bakugou doesn’t get jumped on his way back to the car.

And as you watch Bakugou’s receding backside, the guilt that you’ve been tirelessly suppressing the entire night finally breaks free, threatening to swallow you whole.

This can’t go on.

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @beab19 @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @lovra974 @chelbyisbord @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69 @lemuhr @rosemarygalaxy @iluv-ace @eyesforbkg @carpe000diem @shushbruv @matchat3a @ttalgi @bakunianadecorazon @the2ndl @keiscwsz @onlyisaa @aizawa19 @471323 @bakugosgothhoe

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 they make such a huge, huge difference! have an awesome day ( ˘ ³˘)

[checkeredflagggs]

Pole Position

Pairing: logan sargeant x stripper!reader

summary: after a(nother) bad race, logan does as anyone in Vegas does — drinks himself into a couple of bottles, meets the newest stripper in the club, and marries her? …wait what??

a/n: @sinofwriting is an enabler and shouldn’t be talked to at 3am…

a/n2: I support sex work of all kind — if you disagree, don’t come crying to me

a/n3: still working on story of us: chapter 3 but it just keeps getting longer and longer — people keep trying to flirt with y/n. It was just supposed to be a short bridge chapter 😭 but I work better under stress so I WILL have it out by Wednesday

a/n4: no particular year for this piece btw but mostly 2024

sweet_as_cherrie_pie

liked by user, user, user, and 1,124 others

tagged: the_lumberyard

sweet_as_cherrie_pie: training? done 🥳

view all comments

user1: 🥵🥵🥵

↳user2: oh so excited for a new dancer…

user3: 🍆🍆🍆💦💦💦🍑🍑🍑???

↳user4: disgusting behavior

↳user3: this is a stripper’s page?

↳user4: and you think she deserves…you???

user5: Stop this ungodly behavior at once young lady!

↳user6: not to repeat those disgusting comments above — this is a strippers page.

↳user5: it’s a page of filth

↳user6: so how come you’re here?

user7: you’ve got this!

user8: I got to see some of your training and woooweee mama the dedication and physicality of it…

↳user9: I tried it once (looking for a new workout routine) and that was ENOUGH

↳user9: congrats girl!

logansargeant

liked by alex_albon, georgerussell63, oscarpiastri, user, and 790,469 others

tagged: williamsracing

logansargeant: I’m sorry guys — not the race we wanted this weekend but we’ll learn and come back stronger next time

view all comments

alex_albon: next time for sure 💪🏻!

↳logansargeant: absolutely!

↳user15: keep on dreaming — you suck

this comment was deleted

user16: what a fucking waste of a seat

this comment was deleted

user17: Williams I beg — drop the dead weight

this comment was deleted

jvf1: next time

↳user18: well that’s ominous as shit

oscarpiastri: just gotta keep learning mate

↳logansargeant: we absolutely do!

↳user20: you do! Oscar isn’t the giant loser you are

this comment was deleted

user21: never been so glad for a break in the calendar — gotta forget this disaster class drive(r)

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comments have been disabled

f1_gossip

liked by user, user, and 2,193,924 others

f1_gossip: what a wild night Vegas turned out to be! Pierced together from several drivers’ stories last night, the party started early and lasted for a while — it looks like someone now has a lifelong commitment actually

view all comments

user22: WHAT??? WHO???

↳user23: where’s that detective chick? Or the obsessive Bluesky users? WHO GOT MARRIED

user24: my bet is Max and Kelly — they celebrated his win a little to hard

↳user25: I always thought it would be charles to be the one to get drunk married…

↳user26: …yeah ok I can see the vision

user27: that head of hair? Carlos! Definitely 💯

↳user28: I’m throwing my money in on Lando? He totally gives off Vegas wedding vibes

oscarpiastri: …🧐🧐

↳logansargeant: …😬

user29: I was gonna say Daniel but Oscar and Logan are making me suspicious…

↳user30: yeah…now who do we think?

↳alex_albon: my money would be Lando

↳user31: sounds just like something someone with something to hide would say

↳alex_albon: im cuddling a plastic flamingo and am too drunk to make sense of that sentance

landonorris: maxverstappen1 you are never mixing me a drink again…anyone know where i am?

↳user32: LANDO?? DID YOU GET MARRIED LAST NIGHT??

↳landonorris: MARRIED?? TOWHO??!?

↳charles_leclerc: you got married and didn’t invite me? 🥺

↳maxverstappen1: or me?

↳carlossainz55: mate…

↳maxfewtrell: without your best man?

↳landonorris: im nOT MARRIED???

Private Messages, Boss and Cherrie

Private Messages, Logan and Cherrie

logansargeant

liked by sweet_as_cherrie_pie, alex_albon, oscarpiastri, and 1,344,924 others

tagged: sweet_as_cherrie_pie

logansargeant: I guess what they say is true…what happens in Vegas doesn’t stay in Vegas. I’m glad though that you said yes (again)

view all comments

sweet_as_cherrie_pie: it’s the blue eyes. They make me stupid

↳user33: I have never agreed with anything more faster in my life oh my god?

user34: you married a stripper

↳logansargeant: I guess I did

↳user34: 🤮🤮🤮

this comment was deleted

↳user34: great pick — either a gold digger or a used whore

this comment was deleted

this user was blocked

oscarpiastri: so it WAS you who got married!

↳logansargeant: Apparently 😂

↳sweet_as_cherrie_pie: yeah I guess those Elvis chapels are actually legally binding? Idk 🤷🏼‍♀️

↳user35: I’ve had cherrie for only a minute but if something happened to her, I’d kill everyone then myself

↳sweet_as_cherrie_pie: extreme but I get it

alex_albon: YOU GOT DRUNK MARRIED IN VEGAS???

↳sweet_as_cherrie_pie: Watch your tone when talking to my husband.

↳user36: wow that period is the most threatening thing I’ve ever seen

↳sweet_as_cherrie_pie: it should be.

↳alex_albon: logansargeant help?

↳logansargeant: …sorry Alex but I got your flowers babe liked by sweet_as_cherrie_pie, user…see more

user37: wow I really had it being Lando who got married

↳landonorris: WHY. IM DEFINITELLY NKT THE TYOE TO GET DRUNK MARRIED

↳sweet_as_cherrie_pie: Is there something wrong with that Mr Lando Norris, 123 Monaco Street Monaco?

↳landonorris: WHY DO YOU KNOW MY ADDRESS logansargeant HELP

↳logansargeant: 😂

↳landonorris: stop laughing at my pain

jvf1: I expect you back at the Grove by Friday Logan

↳logansargeant: Yes Sir

↳user38: uh oh

↳sweet_as_cherrie_pie: Oh I’d love to meet you.

user39: when she’s (violently) protective 😍😍

↳sweet_as_cherrie_pie: Oh im ride or die for my people liked by logansargeant

y/n_sargeant

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 1,123,221 others

tagged: logansargeant

y/n_sargeant: when he has big blue eyes and looks good on his knees…you say yes (twice)

view all comments

user40: girl I don’t think you can actually say that

↳y/n_sargeant: who’s gonna stop me?

user41: the name change though…

↳logansargeant: oh im not letting her get away

↳y/n_sargeant: locked in for life 🔒 (and Cherrie was just a stage name anyway…)

↳user41: 😍

oscarpiastri: I think I’ll like getting to know you y/n

↳y/n_sargeant: same pastry boy

↳oscarpiastri: 🙄🙄

↳user42: oh I love this friendship already

alex_albon: …you’ll be coming with Logan then?

↳y/n_sargeant: you couldn’t pull me away

↳alex_albon: for how long???

↳y/n_sargeant: Well considering I got fired for getting married? Forever.

↳user39: still loving that (violently) protective bond

landonorris: no??

↳y/n_sargeant: Yes Mr Lando Norris, 123 Woking Street England

↳landonorris: HOW DO YOU ONOW THAT ADDRESS???

↳georgerussll63: Oh I’m going to love getting to know you y/n_sargeant liked by y/n_sargeant

logansargeant

liked by y/n_sargeant, oscarpiastri, and 993,234 others

tagged: y/n_sargeant

logansargeant: must be too fast for my own good — I got married before I started to date her. We’re fixing that now 🩵

view all comments

y/n_sargeant: ♥️♥️♥️ love you hubby

↳user43: I am so so jealous (and so single)

user44: no but dating your wife…

↳logansargeant: always

↳user44: ok just call us sad and single little vroom vroom boy

↳y/n_sargeant: trust me — there is NOTHING little about him

↳logansargeant: babe 😆

user50: ok but what kind of pie is that?

↳logansargeant: cherry! It’s y/n’s favorite

↳y/n_sargeant: actually you’re my favorite

↳user49: still don’t think you can say that… liked by y/n_sargeant, logansargeant

lilymhe: alex_albon take some notes

↳alex_albon: y/n_sargeant how long are you staying again?

↳logansargeant: forever and ever and ever liked by y/n_sargeant

user51: ok but who won the uno game?

↳y/n_sargeant: i did

↳logansargeant: she’s absolutely ruthless

↳y/n_sargeant: 🥹🥰

↳y/n_sargeant: but no I don’t take prisoners — not even my husband

y/n_sargeant

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 1,234,924 others

tagged: logansargeant

y/n_sargeant: oh yeah he’s all mine 🥵🥵🥵

view all comments

user52: im seeing the vision

user54: yummy 🤤

logansargeant: yeah Williams wants you to go through pr training now

↳y/n_sargeant: I will not but thanks for asking

↳williamsracing: it was really less of an ask and more of a requirement

↳y/n_sargeant: still gonna be a no

↳williamsracing: understandable queen — thanks for your time

↳user55: it was that easy?

oscarpiastri: i'm glad we’re in a different hotels

↳y/n_sargeant: Don’t worry about it. 😁 I’ve got time.

↳oscarpiastri: ominous

↳y/n_sargeant: Yup!

user56: is that…is that Logan pole dancing???

↳logansargeant: well I’ve got a great teacher!

↳y/n_sargeant: 🥵🥵🥵 you keep working that pole baby!!

↳logansargeant: whatever you say liked by y/n_sargeant

williamsracing

liked by y/n_sargeant, oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 1,948,138 others

tagged: logansargeant

williamsracing: AND THAT’S P1 FOR LOGAN! IN HIS FIRST EVER F1 PODIUM, HE CINCHED THE TOP STEP HERE IN ABU DHABI

And congratulations to Alex for his p5!

view all comments

y/n_sargeant: HE DID IT!! THATS MY MAN

↳user57: HE’S ON THE TOP STEP?!

↳y/n_sargeant: not just on the top step 🥵🥵

↳user57: we really can’t keep defending you girl

↳y/n_sargeant: im getting so railed tonight i don’t even care liked by user57, user…see more

user58: Williams points?

↳y/n_sargeant: WILLIAMS LOGAN PODIUM

user59: petition to have y/n come to every race ever — she’s clearly Logan’s lucky charm liked by logansargeant, y/n_sargeant

↳y/n_sargeant: absolutely!

↳user60: clearly! Her pole dancing translated to pole positions liked by logansargeant, y/n_sargeant

y/n_sargeant

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 2,823,183 others

tagged: logansargeant, alex_albon, williamsracing, jvf1, liakblock

y/n_sargeant: thanks for getting drunk and marrying me in Vegas baby — and congrats to the Williams Racing Team for a good last race!

view all comments

user61: did…did you dump a container of Gatorade on JAMES?

↳y/n_sargeant: gotta give him some of that good ol’ American hospitality right? liked by user61

logansargeant: that was the best impulse decision I’ve ever made!

↳y/n_sargeant: it really really was

↳user62: ok this is calling me single in more languages then I know how to speak

oscarpiastri: congratulations man!

↳logansargeant: you too! Constructors Champs!

↳landonorris: papaya rules!!

↳y/n_sargeant: Did you forget something Mr Lando Norris, Room 344 Abu Dhabi Hotel Abu Dhabi?

↳landonorris: SERIOUSLY HOW ARE YOI DOING THAT!!

↳landonorris: also congrats on p1 Logan!

↳y/n_sargeant: I have my ways

alex_albon: congrats dude! Knew you could do it!

↳y/n_sargeant: yeah he can!!!

↳logansargeant: thanks man! And congratulations to you too!

↳y/n_sargeant: and congrats to you too Alex!

jvf1: My office. Now.

↳y/n_sargeant: yeah we’ll see you next year dude

↳logansargeant: sorry sir. We’re on our way

↳y/n_sargeant: yeah alright I guess…

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby

[jarofstyles]

Cabernet

This can be read as a standalone I think, but! Here is a second part of Merlot! It's spicy and sweet so I hope you guys like it. Unsure if there will be any more parts (I’m open if you guys have more ideas!) but I do love a good dilfrry.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings!

WC- 4.1k

Warnings- smut, age gap relationship, anal (for those who asked ur welcome!), unprotected sex, cumplay, Dom/sub elements

-------

Harry was by far the best man she had ever dated. 

Their age gap was evident at times, but not in a bad way. It was rather cute when he had been confused about videos she sent or his own excitement to show her the movies or books he was referencing. The added element of their dynamic was learning from one another. Harry had been teaching her about publishing and helping her flesh out the first draft of her book while she sat in his office some days, helping him out in return by getting him coffee or lunch or an occasional shoulder massage when he got particularly stressed. An unofficial assistant of sorts. 

“I feel like if I have to write the word ‘said’ one more time, my brain is going to explode.” She grumbled, pushing her laptop across the couch and leaning back on it. The leather seat in his office was by far the most comfortable one she had sat on and he happily invited her to come into the office to see him as often as she wanted. It was both practical and selfish on both ends.It was easier to work in a space like this and with the understanding that Harry really did have work he was doing, she focused on her own stuff. A quiet pair of people working in each other’s company. 

Add in the fact that he was the boss man, it made it much easier for her to come and go as she pleased. 

“Mm, sometimes authors get stuck with words in their novels. They’ll have phrases they repeat a few too many times, usually gets called out in editing and fixed. It’s not a bad thing. But with words that are action words like that, there are options. Y’know, depending on the scene and tone. Murmured, muttered, peeped, whispered, whined, moaned, huffed, grumbled. Those sorts of words.” He tapped his pen against the desk as he lifted his eyes to her. 

It didn’t get old. Seeing her pretty face sitting in his office looking the way she did, much more comfortable than the night they’d first met, but still appropriate for an office setting.

Sometimes he did let his mind wander into the roleplay aspect, wondering if she had been his real assistant if he would have made a move. If Y/N was the Y/N he knew now? Probably. Scandalous. 

Today she wore a pair of black flowy pants and a matching turtleneck, but on top she had a chunky knit cardigan that was utterly adorable. It had yellow moons and stars, a deep purple color with sleeves she had to push up so they didn’t hide her hands. His girl leaned into the office aesthetic when she came in so she didn’t stick out too much but with him or when they were at his place or out together, he loved seeing her dressed in her normal clothing. She looked soft, whimsical almost. Like a little fairy. 

“Hm. Good point. I need to write down all the synonyms in my notes app and defer to that because if I’m getting tired of writing it, I know whoever ends up reading it will get tired of seeing it too.” Her lips puffed to blow a strand of hair that had fallen from her bun, brows furrowed as she failed and made her hand ready up to tuck it behind her ear instead. 

Again, cute.

“Not necessarily.” He replied, leaning back in his chair. “We’re our own harshest critics. I doubt they’re paying that much attention to that. The majority of people will be paying attention to world building, character development, plot, sex scenes, all that fun stuff. The exact wording isn’t always the most important thing. But it shows that you care about quality.” He shot her a grin. “So you will be successful.”

“Mmm… and not because I’m fucking the publishing head?” She grinned as she stood up, stretching her arms out. 

“Well. That helps.” He wouldn’t deny it. She had a leg up, but he wouldn’t publish just anything. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t publish shit work. It isn’t worth the reputation of my company. Your writing is genuinely good, my sweet.” He knew the drill by now. Her heeled boots were kicked off by the couch and she made her way over to him, the tiredness starting to hit her as she happily perched herself on his lap. 

“Good to know.” She snorted before pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. The facial hair had grown but he was shaping it currently. She promised she’d be okay with whatever he did to it but didn’t want anything to happen to the mustache. That wasn’t allowed to go. “What are you working on? Anything fun?” 

“No, nothing incredibly interesting I’m afraid.” His hand squeezed her hip underneath the cardigan. “I was working on some contracts earlier but every so often I pick up some submissions and read through them myself. This one is very bland, unfortunately. There’s potential, absolutely. Their writing style is lovely, but the plot falls flat and the characters are one dimensional. S’like they chose a specific stereotype and did nothing to differentiate them.” It was unfortunate.” It was a shame he came across all too often.

“It’s obvious this person is trying but they’ve never observed or met someone with these traits. I don’t think you absolutely have to follow the rule ‘write what you know’, but I think a lot of the best works come from drawing from our own experiences. Romance, for them, doesn’t seem to be a passion. They’d do better with mystery with their writing style as it is, but they have to improve on other aspects first.” 

“Is it hard for you to see stuff like that?” She asked curiously, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I can tell you’re a little disappointed with it, so I have to wonder if it happens a lot.”

“It does. And it is hard when you see someone with potential not living up to it but I have faith that if we send them some constructive criticism notes that maybe they won’t see it as an attack but as a place of genuine care. I’m going to have someone meet with them I think, give them my notes and have them explain it in nicer terms than the plain ones I used. Maybe they can work on it again and add more and we’d have a best seller.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can see they care about it in the way they put details in, but it needs more.”

There was something incredibly attractive about listening to him talk about it. It was always attractive to see someone care and talk about their passions; but Harry was on another level. She could see it on his face that he was disappointed and knew the person could do better. While it made it all the more nerve wracking for her own novel, she had him working with her along the way.

He never told her where to go with her story in terms of ideas, but how to improve the mechanics. Reading over bits and telling her to take away a certain detail and add more in other places, or giving suggestions about how things could flow smoother. He’d listened to her storyboard, after showing her the author equivalent of it, and gave his honest feedback from a publisher's point of view and then from a boyfriend’s point of view.

Sometimes it was more obvious that he was the one with miles more life experience in these instances but she couldn’t be upset about it when it only aided in strengthening their relationship. 

“I see.” She looked at the manuscript on the desk with the red pen of doom. “Oof. The red pen is out… and you’ve used it a lot.” 

“Well, there are errors.” He chuffed, kissing her cheek in return. “Did you get enough done?” The word count goal had been 3,000 for today, but he didn’t make it for her. It was all on her. He simply helped keep her accountable.

“I did more. I think… 4.5?” She tilted her head trying to remember. “Now my head feels like soup.” It did feel like mush right now. That was why the laptop was closed and abandoned and she was finding comfort in the man. It was like a reward. 

“That’s ace, my dove. Amazing.” He praised. The pride he felt for her was earned fair and square. She had been applying herself more now than ever. Since their first night together they hadn’t really separated, seeing each other at least a few times a week. Her work ethic was there as she had zeroed in on what she wanted. “Why don’t we finish this up and go back to mine, mm?” 

Harry had been holding off all week. He’d gone a bit rough one night and even though she said she was fine, he wanted to give her body time to relax. As much as he loved sex, he had wanted her body to enjoy it more than anything else. Not be overly swollen and sore the next day. 

Today was going to be the day to break that. A full week of nothing but heated kisses, and she was as needy as needy could get. He felt her perk up at the mention, sitting up straighter in his lap. 

“Please! Let’s go. We can get food on the way home but I think we have some pressing matters to attend to.” She sniffed, standing from him and offering a hand to help him up. “Chop chop. Get a move on, mister.”

——-

Two rounds in and he knew she could take it. Her poor cunt was a mess and he knew that as pretty as it was all drippy and swollen, she had been aching for him to get a try into her other hole. They’d had a proper discussion about it, and he had effectively been edging her the entire night. Fair? No, but she knew how he rolled. The promised pleasure first, experiments after. Just in case she wanted to stop, she got something out of the night. 

She’d been warming his cock for a bit as he held her in his arms, cooing soft praises about how good of a girl she was, how brave she had been to ask for something new tonight when he felt her get impatient. She didn’t need to say it. He knew her well enough now to understand what she wanted. Pulling his cock out and rubbing the tip against her asshole, pressing against it and spreading the sticky cum over the rim.  “Want me t’fuck this tight little ass too?  Fill you from both ends."

“Wanna try.” She nodded, panting as her cunt contracted and his cum dribbled out of her pussy. “You’re so big I… I dunno if I can take it. Go slow.” Y/N knew she was slightly cock drunk but she also trusted him. He’d made her feel good already, took his time with everything else why wouldn’t she want to test this with him?

“Okay, my sweet. Just relax.” Harry wasn’t nervous, but he was cautious. His girl was precious cargo, and he wanted to make sure it felt as good as it could. He’d done the work of stretching her with his fingers, but it was going to be a challenge to get him in there regardless. He slowly pushed his thick head past the tight rim of her back hole. Watching her face intently, his own contorted with pleasure. "You're doing so good, doll," he encouraged softly. "Just relax and let me in. You can take it."

The pressure was intense, and she hissed out a breath as he slowly pushed more and more of himself into her. His thick head stretched her wide, and he paused, letting her adjust to the new sensation. "Breathe." The reminder was whispered as he realized she was holding her breath, his hand carding through her hair tenderly.

"That's it, baby. You're taking it so well. Always do so good f’me." He praised, his voice low and soothing. He slowly pushed more of himself into her, inch by inch, his thick prick spreading her wide. She could feel every vein, every ridge, as he slowly filled her up.

As he slid deeper, Harry could feel the intense pressure and stretch around his girth. Her tight little hole was gripped tightly around his shaft, the muscles fluttering and contracting as he pushed his way inside. She felt like she was being split in two, her body struggling to accommodate his bigger size- but she was. Slowly but surely, he sunk into her fully.

She had done it. 

“Fuck.” She sobbed out, clinging to him as he got down to the base. Never in her life had she felt so full that way, so stretched. Only Harry could make her feel this way. It wasn’t just the physical feeling, but the emotional one too. She trusted him more than she trusted anyone else. His guidance was priceless.

"You're doing so good, You’ve got it all in. Jus’ gotta let it adjust." he soothed, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. Giving her a moment to adjust, his hands stroking her hair and her cheeks, his thumb brushing away her tears. "You feel so hot around me, doll. So tight. Knew y’would be."

“I wanna be… I want you to feel good.” She whispered, looking at him with wet eyes. “It’s just so big. I’m tryin’ to take it.” It surely wasn't a beginner cock but she wasn’t known for taking the easy way.

"You're doing so well, baby," he reassured her, his hands never leaving her. He slowly pulled out halfway before sinking in again, a little faster this time. "That's it... take me all the way in."

It was the fourth time he did it that she felt the pleasure. Both from the action and the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against her swollen clit, making her gasp. Her eyes fell shut as she leaned her head back, slowly relaxing into the bed.

He watched her face contorted in pleasure, his heart swelling with pride. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough. As she opened her eyes, he began to pick up the pace, his hips pressing against hers. "M’so proud of you. Look at you, taking every bit of me.”

Y/N sent him a blissed out smile as her hand slipped between them, rubbing her own clit slowly as he fucked into her ass. There was nothing rushed about it, nothing frantic, and it felt good just to be. Her muscles relaxed, making it feel even better as his cock filled her hole. Soft moans left her mouth as she curled her other hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so he was close. “Are they the best holes you’ve had?”

Harry’s face was lax in his own pleasure as he felt her tight ass clench around his cock. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his breath hot against her lips. “They are. So fucking tight, so perfect. Can’t compare them t’anything else.” He kept up his steady rhythm, loving how her body moved with his. “You feel so good. Can never get enough of you.” He whispered, brushing a stray hair out of her face before stroking her puffy lip. They were so pretty. Kissing wasn’t something he’d thought much of before, but he hadn’t kissed Y/N. She had changed everything for him. 

“Better than that silly ex wife?” She prodded, watching with a little smirk as she watched him think it over. Y/N had a feeling she was by the way be was acting,  but she wanted to hear it.

"Way better." he grunted, his hips snapping forward. "Little minx, y’just need to ask that, hm? No need to be jealous. She never gets t’have me again. Only y-you." He stuttered as her hand moved around his neck and she squeezed down hard on him. "Her holes were nothing compared to yours, doll. Nothing."

Y/N giggled as she choked him a little bit, watching his eyes widen before pulling. It was obvious that while he was the big man in charge- she could have fun too. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll tell you a secret, Harry.” Her lips brushed his as she kept the grip on his throat. Her lips were swollen and sensitive, the coarse facial hair brushing it and making her want to moan. “None of the boys my age have ever made me cum. They never fucked my ass. Never fucked me raw. And you did it all.”

"And I'm gonna keep doing it," he rumbled, eyes burning with lust as she kissed him. His hand tightened in her hair, tugging gently and pulling her deeper into the kiss. “You’ve got a man now, no need to think of those boys.You want me t’keep being nice to you? Keep making you cum?”

“If you keep fucking me like this, I do. Want my man to be so, so nice to me.” She gasped as he pushed all the way in, balls rested snug against her ass as he slowly humped into her, the comfort of the fullness making her fingers work harder on her clit. “Gotta- Gotta prove you can keep up with me, old man. That you c-can live up to the hype. I like the bit of silver at your temples but…” Her moan was broken as he pulled out and pushed back in, jostling her. “Gotta prove why older guys are b-better for pretty little things like me.”

"Oh, I'll prove it to you," he growled, picking up pace as he pounded into her tight ass. She had no idea just how badly he’d needed her to walk into his life. Thank god she had. This was everything he had ever wanted. "And right now, you need me to wreck this little hole until you can't walk straight. You need me to show you how a real man handles his woman. I'll give you everything you crave, everything you need. You just have to let go and trust me.” The man had every intention of proving how much better he could be for her than she could ever imagine.

"Fuck, look at this cunt." He muttered, reaching down to spread her dripping pussy apart. "It's absolutely soaked, just dripping down. Love it, hm?” The smugness in his tone would usually make her scowl but there was no denying it. The proof was right there. It was undeniable. “You're so turned on, baby. It's making it easier for me to fuck this tight little ass of yours." The glossy, hard flesh glistened with slick, dripping down onto the bed beneath her. His own cum intermingled with her own, making his movements smoother as he pushed in and out of her, coating her holes with their combined essence.

Her face was a mask of pure ecstasy, her eyes rolled back in her head as she whimpered in pleasure, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. Her asshole clenching and unclenching around his thick cock with each thrust, trying to milk him for all he was worth. Her body was feeling tingly, her legs trembling as he fucking into her ass, the sound of her arousal and his hips hitting her skin filling the room. She was completely lost in the pleasure, her mind clouded by the overwhelming sensation of being thoroughly fucked.

As she reached the peak of her orgasm, he took over and began rubbing her clit with his own thumb, the sensation sending waves of pleasure cascading through her body. She cried out, her pussy gushing as she came harder than she would have imagined being fucked like this. She was so overwhelmed that she could only hold limply onto his arms as he continued to pound into her, his thick cock stretching her hole as it thrust through the waves of her intense orgasm.

His face contorted, vein bulging in his neck as he struggled to hold back. "You feel too good, baby. I can't... I can't hold back any longer." His heavy balls drew up close to his body, ready to unleash another load inside of her. The feeling of her taut muscles milking him, the way she clung to him with every fiber of her being, it was too much. He was sensitive himself, but he wanted to deliver everything she wanted.

"Please, Harry...Please,come inside me... I wanna feel you fill me up. Want it everywhere." She panted, her voice desperate with need. Half of the fun of sex was seeing him lose that control he so easily held in all other scenarios. She wanted to make him feel just as good as he made her feel. He deserved it.

His restraint shattered at her words.  "Fuck, you're gonna get what you asked for."

With a guttural groan, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and let go, his hot load pulsing into her hole in thick ropes. She felt each ribbon scalding her , marking her as his. "That's it, take it all... That’s m’girl.” He kept cumming, his cock twitching as he filled her. Ribbon after ribbon filled her up until she was overflowing with his load, almost overwhelmingly so. He finally slowed, his chest heaving, before gently pulling out of her ass, his cock glistening with the evidence of their fuck.

With a sense of possessive pride, he watched as his cum began to leak out of her stretched hole, dripping down her thighs. It was satisfying in the filthiest way. Primal and caveman in every sense of the word, he loved knowing that he had done it. He’d taken every one of her holes and made her his in the dirtiest type of way. He gently spread her cheeks apart, admiring the sight of his mark leaking from her. "Look at that... You're so full of me, S’that what you wanted?”

“Mhm.” She smiled, slightly drunk on the orgasm and the fact that he had pushed her further than anyone else had before. it was a good feeling in her body, the beginnings of soreness and the calming heat of his hands as he caressed her the way he wanted. “Exactly what I wanted. Think M’gonna have to keep you around so we can do that again.”

“I’d hope so.” He laughed tiredly, pushing back down to take her mouth for another kiss. “I’m far from finished with you, sweet little thing. But I think I’ve ravaged your body enough. Think you need a bath and some tea, get you ready to sleep.” 

Aftercare wasn’t something she’d experienced in any other relationship either, but she realized now it was probably a Harry exclusive thing. He was phenomenal at it. A lot of things, honestly. He experimented with her responsibly, took care of her after every round of sex, checked in on her, made sure she was eating proper meals, and helped her with her career. She’d lucked out with him. Whatever his ex wife was thinking, she had no clue- but she wasn’t about to waste a single bit of him.

“Do you have chamomile?” She asked softly, pecking his lips in return. 

“What do you take me for? Course I’ve got it.” He scoffed, pinching her chin. “But if I didn’t, I’d find some for you. Know it’s your favorite. Added it to the grocery list, along with your cereal, your rancid battery acid energy drinks, and the sweet and salty popcorn.” 

“It’s good battery acid, I’ll have you know.” She giggled, carding her fingers through his hair. He did have a bit of gray going on the temples but it was sexy. Just hearing how much he cared and put effort into the tiny things made her giddy. 

“Yeah, yeah. We can talk about your poison in the morning. It’s time to get clean and go t’sleep. Tomorrow may be the day you write five thousand words. You never know.”

[ivyasproperty]

Light In The Dark.

wanda.m x fem!avenger!reader

summary — you've always had problems with your eyes, so why is it there's something, specifically someone standing so brightly in front of you?

warning(s) : idfk im too tired to check

word count : 2.1k

A/N : took a 2 month break bc i was lazy oops </3, i also didnt know wtf to call the aura so i called it spiritual powers teehee

You were born with a mysterious disease that not even the worlds best doctors could diagnose, you knew this since you were a a toddler, and yet, you couldn't help but get frustrated every time it passed your mind.

Your disease was special, it messed with your eye sight. Yes, you could see, but in your eyes, everything was in a darker hue. What was supposed to be the crystal blue sky on a sunny day, looked like a rainstorm during night.

So of course it made sense you were frustrated, your disease has affected your life is so many ways. You've lost jobs at café's or restaurants for not being able to see the menu, the pages being too dark to see the words written across it, you've lost jobs at business companies, bosses complaining your progress was too slow. Sure the glowing white light from the computer helped, but only slightly.

And so of course you were surprised when Nick Fury, founder of SHIELD, presented an opportunity for you to join the Avengers. You were hesitant at first, not understanding why they'd invite a person like you. But you were then informed that your powers, that being your hindered eye sight, could detect spiritual power. You were confused... spiritual power? How the hell were you supposed to detect that?

As if reading your mind, the one-eyed man told you that a person who possessed spiritual power would emit an aura that only you would be able to see. The more spiritual power that person had, the brighter the aura would be. He explained you would be a useful asset to recruiting more people, be it for the Avengers, or SHIELD.

You didn't like the feeling of being a tool to recruit more people, so you were about to decline, but then brought up the monthly paycheck you'd make if you were to accept. Well..... how could someone refuse THAT amount of money am I right? ( i imagine it to be maybe 10k-15k usd per month ^^ )

ᯓ★

Your first day on the job wasn't bad per say, but it was definitely hectic. The Avengers compound was so far away from where you lived, you had to wake up 2 hours earlier than you usually do to arrived at a reasonable time. It wasn't just that, the compound was so big, you had troubles navigating through the damn building, and with your shitty eye sight, you ran into multiple walls, causing you to rest for awhile and wasting even more time. Curse Stark and his big ass building.

After FINALLY arriving at the lounge room of the compound, you were surprised to see all members of the Avengers lined up in a line facing towards the entrance, as if waiting for you to arrive. Standing in front of them was a familiar figure, one you've come to recognise as Nick Fury.

As if sensing your presence, he turned around and gave what you think was a grin, you couldn't tell, all you could see was pitch black because of your disease.

Introducing yourself was another issue, even with the shiny blonde hair that Steve Rogers and Thor Odinsson had, it was hard to distinguish their faces. You had to squint your eyes to see if a person was standing in front of you or not.

After introducing yourself to Natasha Romanoff, the black widow, it was on to the next and final person, one you've heard on the news multiple times. Wanda Maximoff, also known as the Scarlett Witch. She was just a few years older than you, so you were expecting a shy girl, what you weren't expecting was a bright red light shining around her figure. You covered your eyes, wanting and needing to block out the light to not damage your already damaged eyes.

After getting used to the shine, you let your hands fall to your sides, her features were something you've never seen before, which was ironic since you could barely make out people's faces. She had emerald green eyes, scarlet hair and light freckles adorned her cheeks. She was ethereal, you thought.

You were about to let go of her hand after shaking it when it hit you. Did you just explain her features in detail? But how? You could barely see anything. You looked back up at her face, and your eyes widened at how normal she looked. Nothing about her was a dark color, it was basically your first time seeing colors so bright.

You didn't notice the poor woman getting nervous under your gaze, 'is there something on my face?' she thought to herself. But before she could ask the question that she recited in her mind, she saw Fury tapping your shoulder, affectively breaking you out of your stupor.

"Sorry.." you murmured, "I've just never seen a face with such bright colors before. You know, with my disease and all...." You hated how shy you sounded, it was as if you were a petite girl getting caught for sticking her hand in the cookie jar.

"It's fine!" she enthusiastically said, she felt at ease after finding out the reason for your blatant staring. "Your names Y/N right? I hope we can be good friends." You hoped so too.

ᯓ★

You were settling in nicely. After being here for around 5 months, you've realised a lot more things about yourself. Who would've thought you'd be so good at sparring? Well at least yo were when against Steve, you'd never be able to beat Natasha. And who would've thought you were able to work out complicated biotech with Stark? Certainly not you. Who would've thought your heart would start pounding whenever Wanda Maximoff was around? Who would've tho- wait what? Your heart pounds whenever Wanda is around? You stopped in your tracks after the thought came into mind.

'I like Wanda?' you thought to yourself, 'That can't be, sure I'm always flustered around her and always crave to be around her, but that doesn't mean I have a crush on her! Right?' you asked yourself. 'Right?'

"Right about what, malysh?", you'd recognise that nickname from miles away. "It's nothing wands, somethings on my mind is all." "Penny for your thoughts then?", you couldn't help but giggle at her words, yo don't know why. "It'd be my pleasure."

"Is it about your powers? Oh! Maybe about how you'd finally beat Natasha at sparring?", her words were filled with excitement as she asked you questions.

"Ouch, Wands. To be clear I've beaten Natasha before..... at everything except what she's good at. And no it's nothing you've listed." you replied.

"Whatever you say malysh, so what's on your mind? Let me guess! Let me guess! Uhm...."

You giggled at her excited tone, your lips instantly pulling up into a smile whenever she showed you this side of her. Wanda was still fairly new to the Avengers, sure she was friends with all the members but she was closest to you. You felt fluttering in your stomach at the thought.

But, what if she eventually finds out about the pathetic crush you have on her? You've noticed the way she looks at vision, you don't know what he has that you don't, because you can't even tell what he looks like. Is he good looking? Handsome? Cute? But you did hear Clint muttering something about him having red skin.....

Back on the matter, you were worried, worried about how she'd react, would she like you back? Or would a disgusted look be plastered onto her goddess like features?

Even in stressful situations like this, you couldn't help but find Wanda beautiful. Her face got brighter day by day, the aura surrounding her getting brighter and brighter, showing that she was getting stronger too. You admired her for that.

You looked back in front of you, trying to avoid Wanda's piercing gaze as she tries to guess what's on your mind. What you didn't know was that Wanda had read your mind. She felt guilty, she promised you she'd never do anything like that to you. It was an invasion of privacy. But your thoughts were so loud! They were practically spewing out of your mind!

She couldn't help the blush that rose upon her cheeks at finding out about your crush on her. She herself was also finding it hard to come to light about her feeling towards you. Yes, she felt an undeniable pull between her and vision but her heart pounded in a different way when she was in your presence. She felt the stress ebb away from her body when she was able to rant to you about your problems.

It wasn't until you finally reached your destination, that being your room, that you stopped Wanda's rambling. "It's nothing to worry about Wands, just figuring things out is all."

And just as you were about to close your room door after entering, Wanda hurriedly jammed her foot between the door and your doorframe, wincing at the pain that she had willingly put herself through. To say you were shocked at her action was an understatement. "Are you alright?!" you half shouted, "You could hurt yourself doing that!" "I'm fine malysh. I just.... I just need a moment with you." she panted between breaths.

'A moment? With me? Did something happen? What's going on?' . you pondered as you entered your room, Wanda following behind you. "What's wrong Wands? Your face is really red. Like, REALLY red. And you can tell it's bad when even I can see a color as bright as that.", your worried tone warmed Wanda's heart. 'All I want to do right now is kiss that worried face of yours away.' she thought to herself. Well atleast she thinks she did.

"Y-you wanna what to my face away?", you asked, bewildered at the fact she just said that aloud. "Hm?", Wanda was still oblivious, it took a few seconds for her to realise what had just happened, and of course, her face turned as red as a tomato, at this point it was hard to differentiate the color of her face and her hair, they were almost the same.

"I-I'm so sorry, malysh! It just slipped out! I didn't mean it— well I DID, but I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!-", you could feel your heart pumping wildly against your chest, what does she mean she means what she said? Does she want to kiss you? No that couldn't be it, but then what could she mean? I mean if she did, you wouldn't be complaining.

"Malysh? Are you listening? You know what i'll get straight to the reason why I wanted to talk, I like you, okay? Y/N? Y/N listen to me!" You were still in your own world, asking yourself question when Wanda suddenly started shaking your shoulders and was repeating the same sentence over and over again.

"Wait, hold on a second Wands. You like me? You?" you asked incredulously, as if she hadn't said it a dozen times already.

"Yes, stupid! I like you! Are you gonna say anything? Y/N? God....", she felt frustrated, and rightfully so. Your mind was still trying to process what she said, and after doing so your face turned to what you think is a bright red.

"Oh! That's.... that's cool! Yeah! I... I just......", you were a stuttering mess under Wanda's watchful gaze, and you felt panic rise within you when you noticed an upset look spread across her face. Wanda had took your stuttering as you being uncomfortable, and tried to talk her way out of the topic at hand when you suddenly cut her off before she could even say anything.

"I like you too! Okay! I just, I have a hard time expressing it.... 'M just shocked is all....", the words finally left your mouth in a hurried sentence.

"Why would you ever be shocked, malysh?", Wanda was confused, did you not notice her liking towards you?

"It's just, you're like a goddess Wands. You're beautiful, cheerful and powerful. I don't understand why you'd be with someone like me, someone who can't even see things properly."

"Well you can see me perfectly fine, no?"

"That's different, Wands."

"How so, Y/N/N? I don't care if you have problems seeing, malysh. Hell, I wouldn't even care if you were blind! I like you because you're you. And I like you, okay?"

You were processing her words, still trying to tell if she was saying it for fun or not, but when you realised she wasn't, you wrapped your arms around her frame.

"Woah! Calm down there, malysh. Still need to breathe." she chuckled. But you couldn't care less. She finally liked you back. You finally got your girl. You finally got the light in the dark.

A/N : if im being honest, i fucking hate this. i thought that maybe if i went with the flow it'd come out okay but at this point its just nonsense, but anywayyy!!! hope you enjoyed this one! feel free to leave requests!!!!

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

Masterlist

* indicates smut

One Shots

Boyfriends - Where Harry hasn’t been the most present boyfriend. Based around Boyfriends by Harry Styles

Chocolate Hearts *- Based off CVS by Winnetka Bowling League

Ceilings- Based off Ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine

Too Sweet*- Based off Too Sweet by Hozier

The Alchemy*- AU where Harry is the star quarterback at his college and y/n is an English major.

Love Story*- Colette is an up and coming actor, Harry is an international popstar who fell in love with cinema. When the pair work on a rendition of Romeo and Juliet, their worlds collide as feelings develop.

Chapters- Where Harry stumbles into a book store and finds more than just his next read.

Alone Together- On a chilly New Year’s Eve, Y/N, seeking an escape from loneliness, finds herself unexpectedly swept into a night of warmth, fireworks, and romance when longtime crush Harry shows up at her bar table.

Town Pizza Part Two*- A chance backstage encounter with an old friend reconnects Tessa with Mitch and introduces her to Harry Styles, sparking an unexpected connection that could lead to a new chapter in her life.

My Boss's Son Part Two*- Y/N, an assistant to Anne Twist, forms an unexpected connection with her son, Harry, when he comes home for the holidays.

I Want to Kill Her* Part Two* -Au where Y/N and Harry are neighbors who find out their spouses are cheating with each other.

Series

Love Bites (Au Vamprry)- A bookstore barista catches the attention of a vampire drawn to her scent, and everything changes when she invites him in.

[iinthehexcore]

the last drop

summary: Work could be hard to find in the Undercity. Thankfully, you had found a job - at the Last Drop.

content: probably ooc silco, reader works at the last drop, silco saves you from a drunk dude, nothing too crazy, requested but not proofread! 1396 words

a/n: i have never written for silco before but he is one of my favorite characters! hope i did him justice wahaha!! i used 'jinx fixes everything' as a reference for the layout of the last dropw

⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Work, especially work that is not... completely illegal, was hard to find in Zaun. Safe work, even less. But as someone who had grown up on the cold and harsh streets, you would take anything you could find. The Last Drop - last you had seen it, Vander owned it. It was the heart of the Undercity, the one warm place in the cold town. But Vander disappeared, and someone else took it over. Not as warm and inviting, but it was your best bet at a stable job.

The woman who interviewed you - if it could even be seen as an interview - only nodded, telling you to be there the day after at seven p.m. sharp. One minute later, and she would come find you.

Well, it was easy to say that you even turned up early. You did not want to know what would have happened if you hadn't. When you walked in to the empty bar, you saw another bartender.

"Hey," he looked up, throwing the towel on his shoulder, "You're the new bartender?"

"Starting today," you nervously said, pulling at your shirt.

"Cool," he nodded, "I'm Thieram. I'll help you your first few shifts."

Working with Thieram was fun. He was familiar with all the people who came into the bar, telling you funny stories of what they did while drunk and betting on who would be the most drunk that night. He even went to split up a fight that had broken out. Even though you had worked here for a little over a month now, you had yet to see the big boss.

The lady who interviewed you, Sevika, frequently sat at the booth hidden in the corner. In front of her always sat a glass or bottle of booze, depending on how her day went, together with some playing cards and a cigarette. Today, however, the bar was completely empty.

Either it was because there was finally a bit of sunshine in Zaun, or maybe a natural disaster was heading your way without you knowing. Even Thieram wasn't at work - something about 'another job needing to be done'. It left you alone with only one drunk man in the far corner of the bar. Only you, the drunk man, and a bucket of water.

If there was nothing else to do, then you could just clean. Though you truly care about Thieram, you could tell that deep cleaning wasn't his strongest suit. You had finally rid the ceiling of spiderwebs with the help of a chair, a stick, and a rag that was nearly falling apart. Sweeping the floor, wiping the tables, and lastly, cleaning up behind the bar.

Every bottle got neatly placed in their spots and the wood was nearly shining now that all the dirt and grime was wiped off of it. The pipes above your head had no more dust on them and even the lightbulbs were now clean.

As you were about to throw your towel down, you heard footsteps on the stairs. You never went up those - you knew Silco had his office up there. There was simply no need for you to be even near it.

Were you supposed to look him in the eye? Maybe not. Maybe you shouldn't even speak until he spoke to you. But it would be rude to not acknowledge him at all, too. You had no time to go over your options as you heard one of the bar chairs scratching against the floor.

There sat Silco.

The two of you looked at each other in silence for a moment. You, terrified. Him, almost curious.

"You are the new barmaid."

Not even a question.

He knew the answer. Sevika had told him about a handful of people coming to find a job, but she thought you the most capable one. Not addicted to Shimmer, seemingly healthy enough, and Thieram told her you were good at your job.

"I am, sir."

He only lowly hummed as you turned to grab a glass and the bottle of alcohol that was meant for Silco. Thieram made sure to remind you where it was multiple times - only the boss could have this. Unless he said the opposite, he would always get a glass poured for him. So, you did.

You carefully put it in front of the man, not sure if you should say anything. He didn't seem like someone who really did any small talk anyway.

"Did Thieram put you up to this?"

"Up to what, sir?"

He shook his head.

"It's Silco," he lit his cigar, raising the glass to his lips, "And the cleaning."

"No, si-Silco," you corrected yourself, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, "Wasn't sure what else to do, so I thought that I might as well."

It was hard to read him. All he did was hum in response, downing the rest of the gold liquid before disappearing back upstairs again.

Two weeks had passed, and thankfully, Thieram was back. The pub was packed - inside people were nearly sitting on top of one another, and the crowd even went on outside of the bar. You heard laughter, talking, screaming, a bang every so often. Sevika, back in her usual spot, just kept an eye out. As you glanced over, you saw her glass nearly empty.

Sevika and you weren't... friends. No one in the Undercity necessarily had friends. But you were both... friendly, at least. If no curse words or glares was considered friendly. What you had learned was that she liked to have her glass full, so you grabbed her usual bottle, stepping past some drunk guys before standing next to Sevika.

No words were exchanged as you filled up her cup, wiping away some spills as she nodded in response. More than enough, you thought. With a slight smile, you twisted the cap back on the bottle, turning to walk back to the bar.

Halfway through, though, your path was blocked. The group of drunks, the jugs in their hands nearly empty. You knew that these weren't their first ones, either. You took a deep breath, trying to squeeze past them, but it was simply impossible.

"Ah, look here," one of the men coughed, grinning weirdly, "The new barmaid!"

"Yes, and the new barmaid would like it if she could go by," you mumbled, the glass bottle in your hands.

The men looked at each other before loudly erupting into laughter. One jokingly wiped his non-existent tears away, shaking his head.

"Why? We not fun enough for ya?"

"Yeah, come on," the one in the middle leaned over, his face uncomfortably close to yours, "We're good guys, I swear."

"If you were, then you would let me pass."

He whistled, circling you as he now stood behind. There was still no way of getting through though - his friends just moved closer together, blocking your exit.

"Big mouth for a barmaid," he grumbled, "Maybe someone should teach you to shut up."

"You think so?"

A voice, raspy and low, accompanied by the smell of cigars. You slowly turned your gaze away from the terrifying man in front of you, your eyes falling on Silco. The man was hard to miss, but what was even harder to miss was the shining pistol he held in his hand, aimed at the man who had been bothering you.

"What?" He raised an eyebrow, cocking the gun, "At a loss for words?"

The man and his friends didn't say anything, the glasses in their hands shaking as they nervously looked at Silco. He just rolled his eyes in annoyance, pressing the gun against the man his temple before gesturing to the door.

"Get out."

You nearly let out a relieved sigh, holding the bottle close to your chest as you looked back at the ground. You felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn your head. Silco looked down at you for a moment before pushing the gun back into the holster.

"They will not bother you anymore."

He glanced at Sevika who downed her glass in return, wiping her mouth before nodding at the redhead next to her, both walking out of the bar. They could handle it.

"Thank you, Silco."

"No need to thank me," he glanced at the bar, seeing Thieram busy with all the other customers, "A drink will do."

[jjscrybaby]

jj or rafe — he’s in a relationship with his girl and he has to go away for a couple of nights — she doesn’t want him to go and has his friends check up on her? or something like that, whatever you want! Ilyyy

jj maybank x fem!reader | fluff | (spoilt!reader, sort of sub/dom undertones in a way, ft: the pogues, phone sex lol.)

ily!!! hope ur all having the best christmas time, I’m still working on all reqs but I’ve been busy😓 sorry you didn’t ask for smut but i got motivated, hope this is still okay!

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“You don’t have to go,” you whined, staring at the wall as you refused to look at your boyfriend. You knew that if you did you’d either forgive him or kiss him; you didn’t want to do either.

“I do if I want to keep this job,” JJ argued, keeping his voice soft to not upset you further. The bed dipped as he sat beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist as he peppered kisses over your cheek. “It’s two days, baby.”

“Since when do you care about work,” you grumbled under your breath, pout prominent on your lips.

He let out a chuckle, biting your cheek in retaliation. “Since I started datin’ a girl who costs more than my rent. Don’t you want that necklace?”

You cautiously look over at him, eyes narrowed as he smirks back at you. Point to JJ. “Thought you said it was too expensive?”

“I did, and it is. But you’re my girl, and if you’re extra good whilst I’m away you’ll get your gift,” he shrugged. “But if you want to keep whinin’…”

“No, I’m done,” you quickly interrupt, looking up at him with an innocent smile.

His smirk softened into a smile, leaning down to press a loving kiss to your lips. You held onto him as long as possible, but soon enough it was time for him to head out. He wasn’t even going on a trip for work, his boss had invited him to something — you hadn’t been listening when he explained — and he knew that if he went it would get him in the good books, and being in the bosses good books means you’ll be looked at for a raise. Like he said, you’re expensive.

“I’ll call you in the mornin’, promise,” he murmured against your lips as you stood at the door, teary eyed and overly clingy.

“Don’t want to be alone,” you whimpered out.

He coo’s at you, wiping your eyes with his thumbs as he leans down to kiss your cheek. “You’re not. I’ll sort somethin’ out, okay? Just relax for the night, watch a chick flick. Text me if you need me, I love you.”

“Love you, too,” you sniffled, accepting one last kiss before he turned around and walked away.

“Be good, see you on Monday.”

You waited until he’d got into his bosses car, waving at you one last time before speeding down the road. You closed the door, tears still rolling down your cheeks as you locked the door up tightly and started to run a bath, it was going to be a lonely couple days.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

It was bright and early Sunday morning, you’d hardly drank your coffee when there was a knock on the front door. You groaned, assuming JJ had ordered another ridiculous toy of some sort. You got off the couch and wandered over to the door, pulling it open the be met with John B.

The boy grinned at you, letting him into the home without being inviting. “Hey, kiddo.”

“What’re you doing here?” You asked curiously, tilting your head at him as you re-closed the door behind him.

“I hear you’re missin’ a certain blonde, and he thought you could use some company,” John B explained, taking a seat on the couch. “Sarah should be here soon, Kie and Pope have work but they’re comin’ over after.”

“You didn’t have to—” you begin to argue softly.

“Shut up, you’re JJ’s girl and that makes you our girl. Now, c’mon, what do you want to do today?” You couldn’t help the shy smile that blossomed on your face. Getting accepted by JJ’s friends was like being welcomed into the royal family.

Sarah showed up an hour later and the two of you painted each other’s nails, and then John B’s after you begged him for half an hour, you watched a movie and when Kiara and Pope showed up you pulled out the drinks. It got to half one when everyone crashed, you were the last up, tipsy and missing your man.

“Hey, baby.” He answered your call on the third ring, and he sounded as if he’d just been in a deep sleep.

“Jayj,” you murmured out, closing your bedroom door.

“Hi, honey. Y’okay?” He slurred out. You could imagine him now, eyes fluttering shut as he fought to stay awake and talk to you.

“Need you,” you explained, laying down on your bed.

He hummed tiredly. “Why? What’s up? John B said you were havin’ a good time?”

“No— I need you.”

It was silent for a moment, before a low laugh came from the other end of the phone. “You callin’ me at two am ‘cause you’re horny? Damn, baby, what’d I do to you?”

“Please, JJ,” you begged softly. “Been a good girl.”

“Yeah, you have. Go on, take your panties off.” He knew you’d have been waiting for his permission, so the second he gave it to you your hands were flying to your shorts and tugging them down along with your underwear. “Rub your clit f’me, sweetie. Just how you like it.”

Your fingers clumsily ran along your folds, finding your clit with ease. You let out a quiet moan at the feeling, closing your eyes to try and imagine it was his fingers rather than yours.

“Quiet, honey. Still got the Pogues ‘round, right?” He checked.

“Y—yeah.”

“Then we gotta keep you quiet. Keep on rubbin’, get yourself nice and wet for me.” He spoke so softly, so sweetly, it just made you even more aroused. You were dripping within minutes, nearly in tears. “Finger that pretty pussy for me, mkay? ‘M right here with you.”

It barely took five minutes for you to be coming all over your fingers, squeaking out his name as you coated yourself. He talked you through it gently, murmuring about how much he loved you.

“Good girl,” he mumbled tiredly. “Want to stay on the phone with me whilst you fall asleep?”

“Yeah,” you agreed softly, pulling your shorts back on before climbing under the covers. “Love you, Jayj.”

“Love you too, sweetheart. I’ll be back soon, promise. And when I am, you won’t have to use your own fingers.”

[cheonstapes]

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘SUGAR BABY CHRONICLES’ ヽ(´o｀；

･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡. miguel o’hara x fem!reader .｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･

SMUT

REQUEST from my lovely @miguelzslvtz; So I was thinking of an older!Sugar daddy Miguel x reader. The reader is working at small country club and Miguel noticed her. She’s serving him drinks, and taking care of him. He tells her she’s too good to be working there and introduced the idea of being her sugar daddy (basically some arm candy). He invites her over to his mansion for a party and she’s dressed up for him🫶🏻 all night she’s being looked at by other men and woman, he’s being very protective of her. He loves on her all night and makes sure she’s taken care of💗💗spoiled✨

cw; older!miguel, slight age gap (reader is in early 20s, miguel is in early 30s), cumming inside, slight breeding(not really, i just have a problem), sugardaddy!miguel, readers a little bit of a tsundere kinda, miguel’s really in love, cunnilings, shower sex, hair pulling, NAWT PROOFREAD!!

4k+ words (longest fic omg!!)

@cheonstapes; hi again…🤗 these hiatuses are killing me. i’ve been absolutely swamped and i lost so much motivation to write but im glad to say i think i’ve found my footing. i found myself again and i’ll work on balancing everything from now on! i apologise for the mammoth amount of time it took me to do this (this is what i get for working chronologically) and i have not forgotten about your requests if you sent one! pyramids and project ex will still be coming but i want to make sure requests are out of the way as they’ve been there for months and it’s not fair for the lovely people who’ve waited so long. thanks again! i love you all🩷

you loved your job, you really did.

not many people can say that genuinely, but when you’re getting the tips you’re getting, seeing the men you’re seeing, you definitely don’t wanna leave anytime soon. working at such an elite club meant you were among the rich of the rich — the big shots of the city that wouldn’t be caught anywhere else.

at the very least, the uniform was modest enough — obviously though, there would always be a few buttons left undone on your shirt, your skirt pulled up just that little bit higher. that window of flesh, no matter how small, was a guaranteed extra thousand in your pocket by the end of the night — and that wasn’t even counting him.

mr. o’hara. that’s all you knew him by. the man was overtly secretive, often arriving alone or occasionally with a very small group of associates. he was by far your biggest tipper. at times, you wondered if he owned the club due to the pure influence he has on your boss — somehow, much to your excitement, convincing him to bump your pay-check up by a lofty sum. the amount of money you make could send you into an early retirement, but of course you wouldn’t do that. it meant you wouldn’t get to learn more about him, and you needed to learn more about him.

summer was always the busiest, the great weather meaning there was more members than usual coming out to play. although, running around and serving for 9 hours a day was extremely tiring — gruelling even. there was sweat dripping down your face, your black dress feeling like a leather coat with the way it clung to you like second skin.

one last drink. you had one last drink to serve and then you could go on your break. double checking the table number, your eyes widened slightly as you saw him. mr. o’hara was not a small man by any means — the bulging muscles tucked away under his tight dress shirt, shoulders almost akin in length with the table. to put it simply, he was the epitome of sexy. you were barely at his table and you could smell him already, the masculine musk of his oud creating a musky, rose scented bubble that ensnared all your senses.

“‘s that for me, sweetheart?”

yes, yes it was. but he really wanted to hear you say it. your voice was such a sweet caress to his ear — he could guarantee an angel got its wings every time you spoke. miguel usually prides himself on being in control of his emotions, his body — but having a pretty, little thing like you just within his grasp was the ultimate challenge of restraint.

the man felt absolutely helpless, his heart pounding in his chest like a hormonal teenage boy when you placed the drink in front of him. “you know it, mr. o’hara — you order the same thing everyday.” fuck. the sip he was having was definitely becoming more than a sip the longer he held the cup to his mouth — chub twitching against the fabric of his slacks.

you were just the sweetest little thing — much more enthusiastic than the other girls that worked there. he might be just imagining it too, but he can feel deep in his heart that you dress up just for him. miguel knows you want him, and he’s more than happy to give himself to you.

“you know me better than i know myself, dulzura. almost like you’re keeping tabs on me, hm?”

“i mean, yeah, i kinda am. it’s my job, mr. o’hara. you’re one of our most frequent regulars, it’d be crazy if i couldn’t tell you your order ‘fore you give it to me.”

oh…yeah.

in miguel’s defence, it’s been a while….a long while since he last flirted — and having an 8-year-old daughter who’s judging your every move means there’s not a lot of time to work on your game. but he’d be damned if he lost an angel like you, he will be yours. plus, gabi does need a woman like you in her life too.

“do you enjoy it, though? your job, I mean — not keeping tabs on me.”

“you probably won’t believe this, but i actually do. the pay’s good, at least, and i can afford to pay my bills, uni, and still have fun. i’m kinda lucky, i guess.”

“you wouldn’t have to worry about that with me, nena.”

miguel knew he was probably breaking some sorta rule, flirting with staff or whatever — but god you were worth it. if being able to take you home meant that he would never set foot in the club again, then so be it.

“sorry, what was that, sir?”

“…quit your job — not in a ‘you’re bad at your job way’ — i’ll take care of you. i can give you everything, anything you want.”

you couldn’t say you were surprised, especially with the nature of your job — old men say stuff like this to you all the time. but, miguel wasn’t any old man. as much as you loved your job, had a stable income and good connections — the thought of quitting and running away with a man like him? fuck, it was so tempting.

“alright then. i hope you live up to those words, mr. o’hara.”

———————————————————————————

mr o’hara (sugardaddy?)

I’m throwing an event at work tonight, I want you to be there.

sent 16:42

(y.n)

hi, mr o’hara. i’d love to but i finish work at 7,i don’t know if i’ll be able to make it. and i don’t really have anything to wear :(

sent 16:50

mr. o’hara (sugardaddy?)

Don’t worry about it, gorgeous. I’ve already got you off work for the rest of the week, and I’ve got you something nice to wear.

sent 16:50

(y.n)

oh, really? well, i guess i’ll see you there then! ;)

sent 16:56

mr. sugardaddy

Mmhm, I can’t wait to see you, babe. And call me miguel.

sent 16:56

———————————————————————————

miguel had promptly sent his driver to pick you up in a sleek black sports car, much to the dismay of your co-workers. a beautifully wrapped box was placed on the seat beside you, a bouquet of orchids and a small note that read ‘for you, las flores más bonitas para la chica más guapa - m’

it was hard to not feel a tinge if heat was rising in your face, for someone whom you’re only just getting to know to be so utterly romantic — it was a new experience! relationships had never been something you were particularly interested in, but there was no denying the allure that someone like miguel held and only time could tell how it would all play out.

arriving at his mansion, which was nothing short of jaw dropping — the halls were mostly desolate aside from the quite bustle of the staff that were preparing for tonight’s ball. an elderly woman escorts you upstairs to the master bedroom, your eyes roaming the area as you take in the grandeur of the building — aged walls paired with a modern nueva york touch.

“where’s mr. o— miguel?” the woman turns to you, an indecipherable smile on her lips.

“mr. o’hara is just getting prepared for the ball. don’t fret over him, he’ll join you shortly.” well, it was a bit rude to invite someone over and not be there to greet them but ok! “ah, i forgot to mention,” she opens the door, stepping aside to let you in. “i left you a little something on the dresser. i believe you both’ll be needing it.” the woman winks, silently closing the door behind her — leaving you alone in the large room.

god, even the room smelt like him. a musky wood and cinnamon smell, with the faintest hint of vanilla from the candle burning by the window sill. it wasn’t everyday you were in the presence of such luxury, especially old money luxury. your eyes flitted over to the dresser the woman was referring to, that sneaky grandma.

a box of xl condoms, birth control, towels, all wrapped in a cute gift basket. “seriously? who does she think i am? i’m not fucking on the first date.” wait— was this a date? it definitely felt like one, but it was hard to be 100% sure. this was too much to deal with now, all that was left to worry about was the ball and getting ready.

on the bed behind you lay a beautifully wrapped box, with a red ribbon to top it off. it fell gracefully onto the bedsheets as you unwrapped it, lifting the lid to reveal the shimmering red dress underneath. a sleeveless satin dress, fabric lined with the finest crystals, a slit raising mid thigh, lined a sheer lace. it was the definition of classy, with a hint of seduction.

putting it on felt like a crime, something so beautifully should be preserved and put into a museum. it took all of your willpower to not tuck the dress away somewhere safe and just go and get one of your own — but alas, it was a gift, the least you could do is wear it. the craziest part was how perfect it fit. practically a glove, clinging onto every curve and crevice of your body — extenuating places you never even noticed before.

smoothing out the wrinkles, making sure it was as perfect as possible — fuck, you looked hot. the colour complimented your skin exquisitely, adding a soft glow to your complexion. in the time it took you to get ready, it seemed like the party was already amping up. you could see the surge of people from the window, flashing lights and an abundance of cars being handed to the concierges. you still had yet to see miguel and what better time to look for him than now?

there was a pair of red heels that matched the dress to a T, slipping them on and bouncing down the steps. the butterflies fluttered wildly in your tummy the nearer you got to the party, joining the line of people being checked in by security. though, from the corner of your eye, you catch sight of him. standing there in all his 6’ glory, curls lightly slicked back, wearing a tight button up shirt and those sexy slacks.

something about seeing miguel like this, so carefree and relaxed, set something off inside of you. even though you were supposed to be his guest, you did everything in your power to avoid his gaze — purely cause you don’t think you’d be able to maintain eye contact him for longer than a few minutes without jumping his bones. but of course, fate was destiny’s whore, and soon enough you were being escorted straight into the ballroom.

“were you avoiding me, cielo?”

a hand splayed across your waist, leading you deeper inside the hall as he whispered in your ear. it was obviously due to the fact that you probably couldn’t hear him all too well because to the loud music, but the way his hands caressed your sides, his lips brushing against the lobe of your ear — it felt all too intentional.

“no…i just didn’t want to cut in line. i figured i’d see you when i see you.”

“is that so?” he slid a champagne flute in your hands, grabbing one of his own as he tilted his head at you — a stray curl unfurling down his forehead. “you’re like an open book, cariño. you think i don’t know what’s going on in that pretty little head by now?”

“so you’ve been studying me, hm?” now it was your turn to raise a brow, tilting your head back as you took a long sip of your champagne. it wouldn’t be a huge surprise if he had been, it was kinda obvious from all the stares he’d give you and when he’d ‘enquire’ about you from your colleagues.

“mmm, studying’s a strong word. i was simply…observing you. can’t blame me for wanting to know someone as enchanting as you better.”

he had quite the mouth on him, didn’t he? you couldn’t stop the small smile that graces your lips, shaking your head in disbelief.

“you’re so stupid, miguel.”

“if falling for you is stupid, then i’m the dumbest of them all.”

it was so bad, so bad that it was actually good. and that comment shaped the rest of your night together. considering your new arrangement, he took the liberty of introducing you to his circle of friends and their wives — conveniently leaving out that he was your new sugar daddy, but that was a story for another day. miguel revelled in the looks they all gave you, seemingly forgetting they themselves had a date nestled on their arms. he really couldn’t have picked a better dress, but damn if it wasn’t killing him.

you really didn’t know how beautiful you were, and he so badly wanted to show you. the dim lighting was a blessing for the tent in his slacks, giving him a flimsy disguise for the arousal he felt at that moment. after more than a few drinks too, wandering hands and lingering words, it was becoming unbearable. however, scaring you off wasn’t on his bucket list tonight. he didn’t take this long fighting for your attention to loose you on the first date. he vowed to do everything at your pace, leaving it up to you to make the first move.

as the party wrapped up, and miguel said his goodbyes — you stood at the door, shivering from the cold air as it nipped against your bare arms. the fun you had was incomparable to any party you’ve ever been to, but you thought you may have overstayed your welcome. shakily tapping on your phone with freezing fingers, ordering an uber to pick you up —

“leaving already?”

“yeah, i had a lot of fun tonight, though.” it was a genuine smile, one that spoke a million words. “thanks for inviting me, miguel.”

for a man so big he sure did move so silently. he stood behind you, gently grasping your hand in his as she looked down on you. “when i invited you, i didn’t invite you as a mere guest — you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

it didn’t even sound like he was simply offering, miguel was begging. you could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice — urging you to stay the night, stay with him.

“miguel, are you sure? i don’t even have anything to change—“

“i’ve already organised sleepwear for you, but you could wear something of mine if you’d like?”

that sly smirk slid its way onto his face once again, rolling your eyes as you walked past him — pulling out your phone to cancel the uber. “fine, i’ll stay. i might take you up on that offer too.”

lo and behold, an array of skincare and pyjamas were set out on his bed as you entered the master bedroom once again — and to top it off, gift bags filled with designer items that you’d never thought you’d ever own. “miguel…is this all for me?”

“unless i have another sugar baby, who else would it be for? ‘course it’s for you, darling — consider it a…’welcome’ gift.”

“more like my entire tuition fee, hell. you didn’t have to spend all this money on me, y’know?”

“cariño,” you could see miguel walking up to him from the mirror in front, his arm slipping round your waist to pull you into his back. “i spend my money how i want, and i want to spend it on you. so i don’t want to hear no more complaining from you, understand.” the small nod you gave earned a small grin from him, a hand smoothing up the curve of your back until it reached the shimmering zipper under your neck.

“you look like a goddess tonight, baby. so fucking beautiful…” his words were whispered softly into your neck, gentle breaths caressing your skin. as he spoke, the zipper slid lower and lower — until your dress was held together by the tips of his fingers. the cold metal of his rings brushed against your bare skin, the tips of his fingers dancing on the curve of your waist as he lets the fabric pool at your feet.

“m-miguel, i’m sweaty from all the dancing! at least let me wash up first, or something.” if you weren’t sweating much then, you were definitely sweating buckets now. the heat radiating from you mixed with the heat simmering between the two of you made for a heady cocktail of unspoken desire — and you silently cursing yourself for almost breaking the number one rule: ‘don’t fuck on the first date.’

“we can use my shower then, it’s large enough for the both of us.” we? oh, you’re definitely breaking that rule now. “i didn’t say this was gonna be a joint effort, did i? i can wash myself, miguel.” you weren’t even convincing yourself with the breathy way you spoke, the way he was caressing you, the pure adoration in his voice was something you haven’t felt before. plus, this is the guy who’s willingly paying you to simply be around him — it’s a win-win situation.

“i know you can, baby —“ letting out a deep chuckle, miguel intertwined your hands and lead you towards the bathroom — “but it’s more fun with two, no?” the gentle pitter-patter of the waterfall shower reverberated through the silence of the room, the sound of fabric rustling followed shortly after. glancing down at your feet, miguel’s clothing was promptly discarded — your widened eyes trailing up his hefty frame.

“fucking christ…”

the man in front of you was nothing short of absolutely beautiful. despite spending everyday surrounded by older men, you never found yourself truly attracted to them until now — or maybe it was simply just miguel himself. “i thought you wanted to take a shower, muñeca?” oh, yeah, the shower. before you could even finish your thought, miguel was already occupying half of the space in there, leaving a small pocket for you to slide into.

the expeditious beating of your heart was muffled by the steady stream of water, but it was more than clear to miguel what you were feeling in that moment. the moment was strangely intimate, and dare i say innocent, for the predicament you found yourself in. his hands gently roamed your skin, barely making contact with any sensitive areas aside from fleeting brushes. he made a point to use his hands instead of a rag, claiming he could ‘clean you better than a flimsy cloth’.

it was truly getting unbearable, utterly frustrating. your subconscious and ovaries were in an intense battle of wits, when a third party made itself known in the worst way possible. you really had forgotten that miguel was as naked as you were until you felt the base of his cock slide between your ass cheeks, chest flush against his back. the slightest hitch of your already shaky breath earned another rich laugh from within him, thick fingers playing with the skin of your tummy.

“you feeling cleaner or what? i’m more than happy to keep going if you are, baby.”

of course you wanted him to keep going! you were already as wet as is, in every way possible. “i..i think you might’ve missed a spot.” the hand on your tummy paused, his breath hitting your ear as he bent down slightly. “i did? i like to consider myself very thorough, cariño — enlighten me.” you did your best to turn with the small space you had, looking up at him with a more confident expression than the one you wore previously.

“here.”

now it was miguel’s turn to be surprised, the tip of his finger brushing against your swollen clit before tapping against your slit. it had been so long since you had a real good fuck, and right now you were genuinely about to give this man some babies if he kept on smiling like that. “mm, looks like i did. forgive me for being so careless. i’ll make sure she gets extra attention.” his words trailed off as he sunk to his knees, the gentle spray of water splattering against his face.

he tapped your ass, lifting you up with one hand as he pressed you against the cool glass, legs resting on his shoulders. his pretty lashes were dusted with droplets of water as he gazed at you from between your thighs, nipping and sucking on the sensitive skin as he kneaded your skin gently. his thick tongue was enough to completely spread you open, eagerly collecting your creamy essence.

miguel was moaning like a pure slut, you would think he got more pleasure in eating you out than you did. his eyes were rolled back, hips absentmindedly bucking to the rhythm of the shower as he sucked on your clit. the position was not uncomfortable by any means, but the unadulterated pleasure you were feeling made it hard to stay upright — nails raking down the expensive marble tiles as you practically grasped for straws.

“grab my hair, darling. i don’t want you to fall.”

whilst his words were slightly muffled, the undeniable concern in his voice had you moaning embarrassingly loud. miguel was clearly strong enough to hold you up all alone, so you surrendered the grip you had on the wall to rake your trembling fingers through his hair — tugging on the curly strands.

“nngh..fuck..”

he fucking whimpered. miguel o’hara, the richest and most powerful man in this city, was shamelessly whimpering between your thighs. that was certainly the biggest ego boost ever, the fact that it’s your pussy that has this huge man so drunk. pushing out your hips, you practically smothered his face — riding him mid-air as you felt the delicious sensations bubbling up inside of your stomach. breathless chants of his name left your lips, panting softly as your head fell back against the panels.

“c-cumming! ugh— fuck, miguel!

the jerks of your body made miguel grip your ass tightly, licking his lips of your release as he shuffled upwards, grinning down at your disheveled form. “you’re breathtaking when you cum for me, beautiful. can’t believe you’re all mine.” he whispered against your lips, forehead to forehead as he kissed you for the first time. it felt like a million tiny fireworks going off inside of you, the previous tension in your body instantly melting away as you leaned into his touch — tongue’s pressing against each other as drooled slipped down your necks.

he kept his mouth latched onto yours as he gripped his leaking cock, dipping the pearly tip inside of your sensitive hole. his movements were unhurried, sloppily kissing you as he dipped in-and-out, in-and-out. it was a steady pace that you soon found yourself liking more than usual, a stark contrast to the inexperienced fucking’s you were getting before. “inside, please…i wanna feel you, all of you.”

you were too dangerous for this old man’s heart. having a pretty little thing like you beg for him to fuck you like you deserved, to mold that sweet cunt into the shape of his cock — it was all too tempting. he was more than willing to do anything his sweet baby asked him to, and he wasted no time in giving in to you. “shit, cielo, no one’s ever fucked you right, huh? she’s gripping onto me like a vice.”

he was right, in every sense of the word. you didn’t know how many partners he had before you, and really didn’t want to find out — but one thing was for sure, miguel knew exactly how to please you. your head fell against his chest, his hand lifting it up by your chin as he pumped into you. “tell me, dulzura, i’m the only one that’s made you feel like this? only man to fuck this perfect pussy right?”

he took the tiny nods and breathy whimpers as a yes, grinning like a madman as he revealed in the satisfaction of ruining you for anyone else — not like he was gonna let you go in the first place. his pace picked up vigorously, finding the perfect balance between pounding into your sore cunt and softly rutting against your ass. the skin where you both combined was tinged red, the on-going waterfall above unable to fully wash away the evidence of your cream on his pelvis.

“only you, miguel — no one…no one’s better than you. i’m yours, daddy.”

those words, hushed and warm, pushed his already inflated ego to the edge. his hips bucked widly, prodding at the spongy spot inside of you as she pressed his lips against yours once more. all sounds were trapped between your connected lips, muffling the choked squeal that left your lips and the guttural groan that left his as he came deep inside you. he did promise to clean you extra throughly, and what better way to do that than flushing out your canal with his cum!

he lazily rolled his hips against yours, ignoring the sticky liquid bubbling on the side of his spent cock. “did so well for me, my beautiful princess. i’m so proud of you.” the fluttering of your heart made you instinctively turn away, cheeks flaring with heat as you pouted — you really can’t believe you fucked on the first bloody date. your little tough act didn’t fool miguel, in fact it fuelled him even more. he continued to praise your very essence, worshiping the ground you walk on despite your protests — smiling softly as he sees your fierce resolve weaken. “there she is, you ready to let me love on you now?”

“yeah, yeah. but first, we need an actual shower. no fucking this time.”

“no promises.”

this was the last place you saw yourself in life, but maybe being in miguel’s arms were where you were supposed to be.

- thank you for waiting and make sure to watch ateez at coachella!!!!!

[ln4bub]

Daniel - Breeding Kink

A/N this is my first fic centred around a kink and not a speech prompt so i hope it's okay :)

LN4 Request

--------------------------------

Even though Daniel was driving for AlphaTauri he was still seen as part of the Red Bull family, being invited to any and every gathering that Christian threw. That's how you find yourself in Christian Horner's back garden surrounded by children whilst Geri and Kelly take a well-deserved break. P is sat on the floor next to Geri and Christian's son, watching you as you teach them how to make daisy chains.

Daniel has been watching you from afar all afternoon, nursing his beer and just about paying attention to his conversation with Max and Christian. "So, how's the hand doing now Dan?" Christian asks, and Daniel simply hums in response, eyes trained on you. It's only when Max thumps him in the chest that he realises it wasn't an appropriate response. "Sorry, what?" He asks, snapped out of his daze. Max laughs at his confusion, "He asked about your hand dickhead, too busy staring at Y/N to notice."

Daniel glares at his friend, "I wasn't staring, just checking that she's okay." He tries to backpedal, turning to face the men he's talking to. "Daniel even I can see that you're staring, you haven't taken your eyes off her since she sat down to play with the kids." Christian observes, taking a sip of his beer as Daniel blushes. Max's eyes go wide with realisation before starting to giggle to himself, Daniel turns to his former teammate, smacking a hand over his mouth. "Shut up Max." He whispers, dragging him away from Christian with a wide smile, leaving his old boss standing baffled in his garden.

"Idiots." He mutters before joining his wife at the table.

Daniel frantically smacks Max as they round the corner, "Don't make it so goddamn obvious next time you moron." He whispers with each hit, his frustration overshadowed by Max's obsessive laughter. "You're so disgusting, your girlfriend around kids is getting you horny." Max stutters out between giggles, Daniel's eyes narrowing in threat.

"I just," Daniel sighs, "I just never thought about us having kids before today. Promise me you won't say a word." He threatens, Max miming that his lips are sealed before snorting out one last laugh. The duo move back to the garden, enjoying the rest of their evening, well enjoying it as best as you can when Max Verstappen wiggles his eyebrows every time you and Daniel are next to each other. You found yourself frowning more and more as the evening went on, exchanging glances with Kelly who simply shrugged at her boyfriend's actions. Brushing it off as Max being Max, you ignored his antics until you were back in the car with Daniel.

"Was it just me or was Max being really fucking weird today?" You ask your boyfriend as he drives you back to your apartment. His free hand scratches nervously at the back of his head, "Weird? Max? I didn't notice." He splutters, silently cursing himself for giving everything away. You turn your head to face him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "What are you hiding?" You question, eyes narrowing as Daniel smiles nervously. You continue to stare him down, eventually causing him to sigh, shoulders deflating as he gives in.

"Max was making fun of me for staring at you with P all day, apparently I was practically drooling and he wouldn't let me forget it." He explains, nervously glancing over at you. You smirk, cogs turning in your head as you put the pieces together. "Okay." You say, shrugging at his answer. "Okay? That's it?" Daniel questions.

"Yeah, that's it." You say quietly, smiling at your boyfriend as he continues driving.

You push the thought to the back of your mind until you shower that night, hatching a plan to seduce your boyfriend. Stepping out of the bathroom in just a towel, you head to your suitcase to find some pyjamas. As you drop the towel and bend over to pick up your clothes you hear Daniel's breath hitch, his phone dropping to the side of the bed. "What are you doing honey?" He questions, voice low and breathy as he admires your body.

You turn to him with a sly smile, "Just getting changed Danny, problem?" You ask cheekily. Daniel laughs, "You know what my problem is, come here." He says, reaching over from the bed to pull you over to him. You squeal with the sudden movement, finding yourself completely naked underneath your boyfriend. You bite your lip as you look up at him, his eyes staring lovingly into yours before he dips his head to kiss you.

His lips caress yours, tongue darting to swipe your bottom lip. You part your lips slightly, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth, battling with your own. His hands slide up your hips to rest under your breasts, fingers pinching your nipples as he continues to kiss you. The feeling makes you moan, giving up the battle and surrendering control of your body to Daniel.

"Looked so good all day today honey, wanted to pull you inside and take you apart in Horner's bathroom." He mutters against your lips before burying his head against your neck. His stubble scratches your skin, leaving faint red marks behind to be soothed by his lips. Lips that explore every inch of your skin, kissing and sucking along the column of your throat.

His lips travel to your chest, tongue swirling over your left nipple as he kneads the right. Whines and whimpers leave your parted lips as the pleasure shoots between your legs, dampening the apex of your thighs. Daniel’s hands push your tits together, tongue swirling over the skin as he sucks purple marks into your chest.

His lips kiss a trail down your stomach, lovingly caressing the area. Your pussy clenches as you remember the events of the afternoon, your hands reaching to pull Daniel back to your mouth. You slam your lips to his, the resounding groan leaving his mouth at your eagerness causing your desperation to grow.

His long fingers slide across the inside of your thighs, moaning at the wetness that coats them. “Look at you, my needy baby aren’t you?” Daniel whispers against your lips, deft fingers beginning to rub circles against your clit. “Tell me what you need honey.” You moan at the shockwaves his fingers are sending through your body, whining out a desperate, “Need to cum, please Danny.”

Daniel heeds your request, rewarding you with two thick fingers sliding into your heat. His fingers always felt better than your own, reaching places inside you that no one else ever had. The wetness dripping out of you allows him to easily thrust his fingers, curling with each drag against your walls. The pressure against your walls makes your toes curl, back arching as you whines and moans of his name spill out of your lips.

Daniel mutters praises in your ear, increasing the speed of his fingers as you beg. He returns his lips to your chest, biting and sucking, swirling his tongue around your nipples. Your hands find purchase in his curls, tugging with every bolt of pleasure that shoots through your body.

“Oh my god, s’close Danny, don’t stop- fuck,” you moan, walls clenching around his fingers in a vice-like grip. He can barely move his hand, opting to repeatedly curl his fingers inside you, hitting that spongy spot and prolonging your orgasm. “That’s it let go for me sweetheart, soak my hand honey.” He lulls, slowing the movement of his fingers when your thighs begin to shake. He slips his fingers out of you, your walls clenching at the loss.

His lips meet yours once more as your hands reach to his waist, tugging at his underwear. He laughs at your eagerness, wide smile contagious between the two of you. Daniel slides his underwear off, thankful that he was ready for bed and didn't have to remove too many layers. You rest your hand on the back of his neck, pulling yourself up to attach your lips to his skin. He groans at the feeling of your teeth scraping along his pulse point, lips sucking at the sensitive skin.

He leans back, "Honey I need to get to the suitcase if you want to have sex, I haven't taken the condoms out." His voice is breathy, heavy with desire. You nibble his earlobe, leaning up to whisper in his ear. "Fuck me now, want to feel you cum inside me." Daniel's body tenses, pulling back to stare at you with wide eyes. A few seconds of heavy breathing and silence fills the room before a smirk paints itself across his lips.

"You are an angel." He mutters, capturing your lips with his own in a brutal kiss. He wraps his hand around the base of his cock, sliding it through your folds. Your cum coats his tip as he dips in and out of your hole, moaning at the warmth that surrounds him. You wrap your legs around his waist, digging your heels into his skin as you encourage him to fill you with his length. Your mouth drops open at the feeling of his cock inside you, pressure forming in your stomach at the depths he reaches.

Daniel moans into your ear as he bottoms out, "So tight for me sweetheart, and so fucking wet, I love you." He mutters, slowly thrusting himself inside you. "Can't wait to fill you up, gonna keep you so full, not gonna waste a drop baby." His filthy words go straight to your head, dizzy with the thought of your boyfriend filling you up with is load. Uncontrollable moans leave your lips causing Daniel to slip two fingers inside your mouth, hoping to avoid a complaint from the rooms next door.

You can taste yourself on his fingers as Daniel pounds into you, the smacking of skin filling the now hot room. "Tell me you want it honey, tell me you want my cum." Daniel begs, sharp thrusts forcing muffled moans to spill out around his fingers. He pulls them from your mouth, wrapping them around your neck as he thrusts. "Please Danny, put a baby in me, need it so bad, need to feel you cum inside me." You ramble, voice whiny as Daniel grits his teeth, clipped moan falling from his tongue.

"Shit honey, s'good, want to give you a baby." He whines, thrusts getting sloppy as you reach down to rub circles against your clit. "Can't wait to see your stomach full, and your tits grow, gonna let me take care of you aren't you?" He asks, fingers closing around your neck. You moan loudly, "Yes Danny, gonna give you a baby, please, fill me up, need it." The filthy words between the two of you hurtle you towards your orgasm, Daniel's thrusts turning to deep grinds against your body.

Your walls squeeze his cock, sending him barreling into his orgasm, ropes of his thick cum splashing your walls. You whimper at the strange feeling, vice-like grip of your walls pulling more and more cum from his cock. "Oh god honey, milking my cock so good, such a good fucking girl." He mutters into your neck, sweaty body collapsing atop yours. Your eyes begin to droop as Daniel maneuvers you both into a spooning position, his cock keeping his cum plugged deep inside you.

You fall asleep, remaining connected with Daniel's hands resting atop your stomach. And a few weeks later, when you surprise Daniel with a positive test the first question he asks is, "Which time do you think worked?" You burst out laughing, tears in your eyes as Daniel hugs you lovingly.

"Don't tell Max yet whatever you do."

[solannn]

Hi!! Can I request a male! reader x boten Where the reader is a waiter at their favorite restraint for gangs/mafia whatever and Mikey takes a liking to him but they find out he’s only doing the job because he’s a single father, and they want to keep him (not super good with translating my ideas sorry)- 🦇 anon

ᥫ᭡ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⤷ male reader and single father of a child named “Myrei”, she is kind, and love her father.

[Name] saw a potentially dangerous man enter the bar, with his gang members, he assumed. It was the first time they had visited the large and incredibly beautiful bar where he had worked here for several years. The boy's men probably hide a weapon in their pockets if there's a problem, most of the gangs do this, and sometimes it's just that he has a shootout because of a quarrel started by a drunk man who ends up dead. the end. [Name] thought their boss was the man with short white hair, he was short but his appearance could be deceiving, but they could also be wrong about him being a boss.

The waiter tried to concentrate on his customers, but the imposing aura of the armed men scared him. He was used to this kind of situation, but he felt like he'd seen it somewhere on his television late at night. After wondering their name its suddenly came to mind, Bonten, something like that. They were one of the most dangerous organizations in Japan, inviting prostitutes and killing them after having pleasuring time them, cruelty towards others human being, and much more. For them it was like a hobby that entertained them, but [Name] hated that kind of person. So, to protect his life he decided not to say too much that could cause a general fight.

He wanted to avoid them at all costs before his manager told him that these men were men who deserved lust and merit to flatter their immense egos, so he asked him to serve them drinks, food, and everything what they wished they had. [Name] was flattered that his presence was lustful, but he was also uncomfortable talking to them but his manager comforted him by putting his hand on his shoulder telling him. "I know how you feel, but unfortunately you are the only one qualified to talk to people at such levels." [Name] sighed, he puffed out his chest a little and thanked his comrade who had just comforted him. He walked towards the table of men, they were all different from each other, one seemed drugged to the point of stupidity, one depressed, one who was probably arrogant, one with a neutral expression and others.

“Hello gentlemen, what can we offer you today.” He asked them and made his famous smile known by his comrades or the customers who came each time. He tried to appear friendly, and pretended to be pure and innocent, he wanted them to have pity for him but they probably didn't have any, but he still tried to seduce them. He waited for their answers for a few seconds before a man with long, white hair asked him. “what is boeuf bourgignon?” he pronounced the word wrong, but with a smile [Name] answered him. "boeuf bourguignon is a dish of beef braised in red wine, and served with a garnish of pearl onions, mushrooms and bacon. It is one of the most popular dishes in France made by a French-Japanese chef." he replied, detailing the appearance of the meat and its garnish. the man nodded and said "I'll take that then." he grinned back, [Name] noted as he took out a paper and a style from his pocket to wrote it.

“I would like a dorayaki.” No, it wasn't a request but an order, he could tell the difference between that. It was simple to distinguish, he kept a smile and wrote his order. After taking their orders one added. “Get me some wine, one of the best from here.” [Name] scratched his neck, and nodded. “of course sir, everything will be in order.” he addressed them before leaving towards the restaurant counter. "Hey Boss, I'm not feeling this place. I'm not having fun." He stretched while taking another drug, to relax. "Their boss didn't say anything, he was just hungry. He glanced to his left, and saw the waiter talking on the phone with someone. He had a smile soft, and not forced when in front of him.

“Kokonoi.” He called one of his members coldly. The boy became tense, he looked at his boss and said. “Yes, sir?” Who is this waiter we saw a few minutes ago? "mhm, I think his name is [Name] Bonavich, he is 27 years old, he has been working in a bar, restaurant for a few years so that his daughter has a good education and other things. He is a single father we will say." he tells Mikey, his boss, the boy's information. Before coming here, he looked for data on the people working in this popular place.

the waiter came towards them again after about thirty minutes of discussion with their meal in hand. Their dish was quite heavy to bear but he pretended it wasn't and placed their meal on the table. “Enjoy your appetite, sir.” He smiled but before leaving, the person who wanted to avoid everything grabbed his arm to say something to him. Their members were surprised by Mikey's sudden gesture, maybe he had a deal with him and was going to kill him. [Name] stressed a little, praying that he wouldn't ask anything strange like being his prostitute or something. “Yes?” he cleared his throat at the same time.

“after i eat you will come in my car, you will be my own waiter for bonten only.” The boy with dark circles under his eyes ordered him shut, without any expression on his face. "oh! ohm..of course." His day was ruined, his daughter was probably waiting for him at home and maybe she wanted to play before going to sleep. He walked towards the bar counter and went into the break room where his friends and his manager were. "people! I'm a dead man!" He whispered, carrying his voice a little so he could hear it. “ehh why.” a girl with extravagant makeup that stood out from the criteria of the Japanese beauty standard stated it was gyaru makeup. She dyed her hair red, to stand out even more. "what are you doing darling? probably isn’t someone as coolish as me ihh" she spoke mockingly not taking the situation to heart. “Shut up Ameyru! Let him talk.” An androgynous boy told her to shut up, she did but she rolled her eyes. "you see the Bonten, they are here and their boss asked me to become their personal waiter--" Ameyru laughed.

"lol! wait what! kyaaaa... these guys are creepy if you don't do your right job you're ekkkkk" at the end of her sentence she made the zombie noise, and with her thumb she pretended to slit her throat. The manager was shocked at the revelation and didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do about it," he felt unable to say another word. The androgynous boy next to him put his hand on his shoulder. "Kyoru.." he whispered, making him smile a little. Ameryu stopped laughing and took it seriously. "I'm sorry too, yikes! they are the most horrendous human ya know.." she said, knowing that if he left, she would miss him immensely. "wahhh!!! it's horrible.!" she said running towards her friend and grabbed him with a hug

"I'm sad, super. Hey Ryuba you will console me right." the haired boy nodded. "I'll try if you don't break my mind," he sighed and rushed to hug his friend, Kyoru joined them too. "mhh, and to think that you've been here for 9 years, we could have reached 10 years of anniversary of you working here.. “awhh guys." [Name] was touched by their words almost having tears in his eyes. when he was released from the hug, he greeted them, perhaps for the last time and left. "Ameyru is depressed.." tears ran down her puffy cheek "ugh.."

When he returned to the room where the gang was he saw blood on the floor. Someone was eliminated, but he had not heard the sound of a gun, perhaps a knife murder. The man was a customer who was probably drunk, he walked over and noticed that Bonten had finished eating. Mikey waited patiently for the boy, he walked towards the leader without saying a word.

He left the restaurant, letting himself go for fear of dying. One of the members opened the door for him, and he stepped inside and sighed. He moved to the back of the car, and the others got in. They were almost all crammed in, but the car was wide enough to fit a little. Stressed out by this long, boring moment while the driver drove the car, he needed something to sink his teeth into. He wanted to take his cigarette but unfortunately he'd left it on the counter.

He left the restaurant, letting himself go for fear of dying. One of the members opened the door for him, and he stepped inside and sighed. He moved to the back of the car, and the others got in. They were almost all crammed in, but the car was wide enough to fit a little. Stressed out by this long, boring moment while the driver drove the car, he needed something to sink his teeth into. He wanted to take his cigarette but unfortunately he'd left it on the counter.

It was a long trip, and [name] was worried because he recognized the road he was driving on his way home. The driver stopped in front of his destination, his apartment building. His heart stopped and his eyes widened as he wondered what would happen to his child. One of the members got out of the car and went to the apartment. [Name] started to speak, but a man put a gun to his head. "He said, "If you dare say anything, I'll shoot you in the face.”He threatened to shoot him, but he quickly shut up. In the back of his mind, he sighed so as not to draw attention to himself. The minutes were long, very long, he felt as if they had stopped an hour ago. He looked out the window to his left, watching the people passing by, afraid of the car. Probably wondering if they were going to die too.

A few minutes passed and the tension grew. When one of the members returned, he had a sleeping child in his arms. He walked around the car to the left door, opened it, and handed [name] his child. He took her under his shoulders and put her on his lap. He rested his head on her chest, but a question lingered in the back of his mind: did he kill the babysitter he'd hired years ago, or was he showing compassion? Preferring not to answer, he stroked his child's head with a faint smile.

His child was sleeping peacefully, as if someone had rocked him to sleep. This made [Name] happy, but he didn't want to show it to a gang, so he decided to save his smile for his daughter. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw the dejected look on the boss's face, so he quickly looked away, not wanting to see his expression. The gang began to talk among themselves, fed up with the tension caused by Mikey's pressure. The little man said nothing, remaining completely silent.

He felt a sudden urge to sleep. His eyelids grew heavy with each blink, and he put his hand over his mouth and yawned. He told himself it was late, 23 in his opinion. At 11 p.m., the lights went out in the small town and he could see people enjoying themselves with their friends. He sighed one last time, clutched his child, and fell asleep, unable to help himself.

──────

He woke up suddenly, his eyes wide open. "Is this a nightmare?" he asked himself, but no. The place he was in wasn't his home; it was too big for a one-person room. The room was almost as big as his apartment. "They're filthy rich...after all, they're a mafia..." he muttered and looked around, not seeing his child. He stood up and rushed to the door. He opened it abruptly and left the room, nothing as he stepped out onto a wide red carpeted staircase. He also had a view of the living room. "..." he didn't know what to say, amazed at the size of this mansion. He heard a child's playful cry at the bottom of the stairs. Running up and down the stairs as if his life depended on it, he looked to his left and saw Myrei, her child playing with one of the members? He wasn't sure if it was a babysitter, but it had a remarkable tattoo. He walked towards them, his daughter smiling as she saw him approach. "Daddy!!!" She couldn't help but scream.

She was so overly excited that she gave her trust to the person in front of him. A man with black hair and a huge scar on his face, [Name], glared at him while carrying his child. "I assure you, I'm not here to hurt anyone on behalf of the boss." He was admitting the truth, their boss? No, he wasn't dreaming, and he didn't seem to be lying. [Name] sighed and let go of Myrei. "Oh dad, no need to worry, he's super super nice the Mr.!!! The others were cool with their shots too!!!" Myrei was only 6 years old, she didn't know what she was saying, she was just a child and she was being manipulated. Negative thoughts invaded his mind and lowered his impressions of the Mafia, even if they were already low enough.

After a brief discussion between the two adults, [Name] felt an icy hand on his shoulder and arched his back at the sensation. He was about to say something insulting, but he stopped himself and turned his head to see Mikey, the boy with short white hair. "I put your clothes that were at home in the closet and the uniform is on your bed, if you've seen it." He said his coldly, showing no mercy, but deep inside he was interested in him without realizing it. “Oh okay.. I’ll prepare myself than.”

──────

After getting ready in the bedroom, the boss waited patiently outside his door. He gasped slightly and bowed in respect. Mikey told him there was no point in bowing and asked him to follow him to his office. He followed with a fake smile on his lips. When they entered the room, Mikey sat down on a rather large and comfortable chair. While [Name] sat on a chair probably made of rusty metal because it creaked. Mikey handed him a piece of paper that showed how much he would be charged. [Name] looked at it for a moment before taking it and reading it. He was shocked, the amount was huge, he could live luxuriously on it every month. The man in the black t-shirt and pants didn't know what to say, but he appreciated [Name]'s smile, it reminded him of someone so close to him. He pushed his memories away, trying not to connect the past with the present.

"I like your genuine smile." Mikey stated it bluntly. [Name] stopped celebrating the money in his head and tilted his head, surprised by the remark. Had he been smiling? He hadn't even noticed. "Oh, thank you!" He smiled even more, a pink blush appearing on his cheek, he didn't know why he was blushing because he should be used to this kind of compliment, but coming from him, it felt strange.

[throneofsmut]

Kinktober Day 2: Stalker / Somnophilia

Azriel x Reader || WC: 1.8k

You threw your head back in a rehearsed laugh, it was too perfect, too well-timed, like it had been used a hundred times before. And it had been, ever since you started working at Rita’s a couple months ago. 

You got along well with everyone you worked with, Rita herself was a good boss, the patrons aren’t awful, but the males can be annoying. 

It’s usually about ten males and females that flirt with you. Trying to convince you to sleep with them, using the same sleazy pick-up lines. The males almost always reeking of alcohol while giving you fuck me eyes as they order another drink, and that’s on a slow nights. 

The females are usually more charming, at least. 

On busier nights, it's anywhere between twenty to fifty males or females, trying to convince you, and tonight is no different. At least they tip well. 

The male sitting in the bar stool in front of you is no different. You couldn’t really hear his pick-up line over the music, the dancing patrons, or the fae seated at the gambling table to your left, but you laugh anyway. He does too.

You reach for a new clean glass, and with a practiced hand you pour the drink from the tumbler, the amber liquid cascading in a steady stream. Then place it in front of the blond haired male with the same practiced smile you give almost all the patrons. 

His hand wraps around your wrist before you can pull it back–which is what you wanted–he smirks, “Here you go, beautiful.” He places two gold marks in your palm. 

You force your smile a bit more, making your dimples show, “Thank you.”

His eyes fall to your lips and his hands linger on yours. “What time are you off?”

Blowing out a soft breath, “Not for hours,” you frown. 

“I’m a patient male, I can wait.” He replies, his words slurring slightly. 

Feeling like someones watching you, you look away from him, eyes scanning the pleasure hall, but don’t see anyone watching you. Hmm, weird. 

Looking back at the male in front of you, giving him a small smile, “Maybe another night. It looks like I’ll be here till the sun rises.”

He nods. “Another night, then.” Then he rejoins his friends at one of the gambling tables. 

You pocket the gold marks, in one of the pockets of the apron tied around your waist when Rita comes up next to you, smirking. Her warm brown eyes follow your hand amusedly. A manicured brow arching. 

“What,” you chuckle. “Girl’s gotta eat.”

She shakes her head laughing, “You say it as if I don’t pay you enough.”

“Oh you do,” you grin. And she does, very well actually. “But, a little extra never hurts.”

Rita grins back, “No, it does not.” You reach for a clean rag to wipe down the counter when Rita speaks again. “Y/n, do you mind going to table 7 and taking their order?” 

You glance at her, “Yeah, no problem.”

“Thank you,” she beams, already walking to the other end of the bar. 

You finish wiping down the counter and start walking backwards, towards the hinged section of the counter. “Hey Kai,” you call your coworker who’s also bartending tonight. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to take a table order!” 

He nods. You lift the hinged section of the counter, slipping through, and let it fall back into place with a quiet thud. 

Weaving through drunk and dancing patrons, heading straight for Table 7, declining their invitations to dance. 

Finally, getting through the crowd, you spot long familiar golden blonde hair and curves dressed in red. 

As soon as you get to the table, Mor squeals, “Y/n!” Pulling you in for a hug. “I missed you!”

You laugh. “Mor, I saw you yesterday.”

She pulls back, still gripping your shoulders, “So what, I can’t miss you?” 

You laugh again, and the same feeling of being watched washes over you. Your eyes flit around the table and find hazel eyes already fixed on you. 

And you don’t know why, but you smile at him. A real genuine smile for Azriel, the spymaster of the Night Court. He tips his chin down. 

Looking back at Mor, “You can do whatever you want.”

She grins, “I always do.” Then sits back down.

With a small tentative smile, you greet everyone at the table. The High Lord and Lady of Night and their inner circle. “What can I get for you tonight?” 

Nodding every time one of them says an order and then going back to the bar to make them. Five minutes later you go back to their table, all their orders balanced on a tray.

You hand out their drinks, eyes lingering on Azriel a little longer than necessary, he does the same. 

Taking a step back with the tray tucked under your arm, “Enjoy your drinks,” you say politely. They all thank you and you turn on your heel and head back behind the bar. 

You continue working for the next few hours. Mor comes up to the bar a couple times for a few more rounds throughout the night. Her and the inner circle call it a night two hours before closing time. 

It’s an hour left before the sun rises and you’re finally on your way home. Kai wraps an arm around your shoulders as he walks you back to your apartment. 

You two have been friends for centuries. His boyfriend is actually your cousin, distantly, but still. And they live around the corner from

you.

“Make good tips tonight?” He asks.

“Yeah, not too bad.” You got really good tips tonight actually. Thank you Mor. “It was a busy night.”

“Yeah, it was,” Kai agrees.

You’re a few minutes from your apartment when you stop abruptly. Looking around. 

“What?” Kai asks, looking at you. 

Shrugging, “I don’t know. . . I just feel like someone’s watching us.” Watching you. A pair of hazel eyes comes to mind.

He looks around. “I don’t see anyone.” Neither do you. 

You let out a soft sigh, “I think I'm just tired.” 

He nods, “let’s get you home.” 

The rest of the walk to your apartment is in comfortable silence. Kai walks you all the way up to your door and waits until you step inside before leaving. 

Entering your apartment, you walk past the kitchen and head straight towards your bedroom. 

Trudging into the en-suite bathroom, your moments slow and heavy as you turn the knobs of your shower. The shower head sputtered before a steady stream of water began to flow. 

You lazily undress and step into the shower. The warm water cascading over your aching body. You stand there for a moment letting the exhaustion wash away before reaching for the soap. Showering quickly and efficiently before shutting the shower off. 

You dry off and climb into bed naked, too tired to change into your night clothes. 

Hazel eyes belonging to a certain Illyrian are the last thing on your mind as you drift off to sleep. 

You dream of him. Of Azriel. His face is clear, his deep voice like silk, and his hands are touching you. Exploring you. His leathers feel cold against your bare skin. 

“Azriel,” you whisper breathlessly as he kisses and nibbles on your neck, chest, and tummy. 

One of his hands roaming over your tits, and they harden into peaks beneath his touch, his other hand teases the skin on your lower tummy. Right above where you actually want him. 

His touch is light, faint like a shadow, making your hips buck. Trying to get him to touch you where you want. Need. 

“I’m here, angel.” Azriel murmurs, his voice is like dark silk. 

“Touch me,” you pant lightly. “I want you to touch me.” 

You feel him smile against your skin, then his hand lowers and you spread your soft thighs apart, one thick scarred finger pushing into you. 

Moaning when he starts to curl it. His thumb tracing tight little circles on your clit. 

Azriel groans deep in his chest at the sound his finger draws from your wetness. “Is this what you wanted, angel?” 

“Mhm,” you moan. “But I want more.” 

“You want another finger? You want me to fuck your sweet little cunt with my fingers?”

Your breath hitches at his words, but you shake your head, gently. “I want you to fuck me, Az.”

He makes a tortured sound, low in his throat, “Are you sure, angel?”

“Please,” you nod eagerly, your hand moving to cup his hardening length that’s pressing against your thigh. And you feel it twitch beneath your touch. “Please fuck me.” 

Azriel doesn’t say anything. He just pulls his finger out of you and you feel him move, settling between your spread legs. 

The sound of his leathers coming undone fills your ears next. 

A large scarred hand settles on the back on your thigh, holding you in place, and then he pushes in slowly. 

He sucks in a sharp pushing in, inch by inch, his thick hard length stretching you. 

When he’s fully seated you clench around him, earning a low moan from him, but he doesn’t move. Not yet. He waits, letting you get used to his size.

“Move,” you breathe. 

He leans back, rocking back into you slowly. Tenderly. Sensually. 

“Az,” you whine, and he pushes in deeper, the head of his cock massaging that sweet spot inside of you. 

A gasp escapes your lips, eye’s snapping open at the feel and bright hazel eyes meet yours. 

You gasp again and Azriel grins at you darkly. His hazel eyes nearly glowing in the darkness of your moonlit bedroom. “I told you, I was here, angel.”

His shadows leave him to play with you instead, some push your hair back and caress your face, others explore and trace every part of your body. Those shadows seem to favor your hard nipples and swollen clit. 

You open your mouth to speak, but a loud moan comes out instead, “Oh, gods!” 

A deep coiling tension starts to build deep inside you. Walls fluttering around his cock. 

Azriel grunts, hips never faltering as he pushes into you somehow deeper. Chasing both of your climaxes. 

“You’re mine,” he growls. “You’ve been mine since I first saw you four months ago, your first night at Rita’s.”

“I-I never,” you huff between breathes, “saw—“

“Saw me that night?” His thrusts start to get more frantic. “I know, but I saw you.” His breathing gets heavier. “I’ve been keeping an eye on what’s mine ever since,” he admits.

“That was you!” Your shock comes out as more of a whimper. But the tension in your body tightens at his admission. 

Azriel answering smirk is feral. “Say you’re mine,” he growls. And you know he can feel you cunt gripping him. 

“Say it!”

“I’m yours!” You cry out and it’s enough to snap the tension. 

Both of you coming undone together, with one word on your lips, “Yours!”  It pours out of your lips in a pleasurable chant. 

“Mine,” pours out of Azriel’s in a vow.

Time slows as you both shatter, splintering, as the world seems to stutter on its axis. Azriel nearly collapses on top of you from the force of his orgasm and you claw at his back, the only thing tethering you to your body as your vision blurs.

Your knuckles accidentally rubbing against his wing making his entire body shudder as his cock pulses inside you. Your cunt clenching around him in response.

****

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[no-144444]

bad day- o.piastri

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summary: you had an awful day, but at least you're coming home to him.

pairing: oscar piastr x fem! reader

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You sighed as you got into your car. It had been quite the day. Your boss was pissed off at you for no fucking reason and he gave you even more work to do, on top of an entire project that your team just assumed you’d do. You somehow got through it all, but not before one of your coworkers (Allison, the one that likes to flirt with Oscar at the office parties) decided to shout at you and make a HR complaint about you supposedly ‘being rude’. So on top of all of your work, you had to sit down with her and Mark, your HR person and argue your case for a whole 2 hours. 

You searched for your phone in your bag at a red light, desperate to call Oscar and rant about the shitshow of a day it had been, but then you realised you’d left it in your office charging. The building was closed, and you won’t be let back in until tomorrow. 

Shit. 

So, you just listened to some radio music until it started pissing you off so you just sat in the Monaco rush hour traffic in complete silence. 

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Oscar had gotten home from the airport an hour ago. He’d been in Melbourne, seeing friends and family and also hand-delivering your wedding invitations, much to his mother’s delight. He’d enjoyed his 2 weeks at home, but he missed you loads. Every night he called you, every morning he texted you, he sent you random updates throughout the day, he sent you an influx of pictures (even selfies), and Hattie even texted you to tell you he was ‘sulking’  around the house without you. You’d responded all week even though you were busy with work, and he knew what time you came home every night, that was 40 minutes ago. As much as he didn’t want to catastrophize the situation, he’d made the mistake of checking traffic news, and found out there had been a crash at the hairpin. He shut off his phone and continued on with cooking dinner after that. 

An hour. That’s how long it took you to get home because of the fucking traffic. You pulled into the driveway, willing yourself not to cry the second you saw Oscar. “You just had to get through dinner, you just had to get through dinner,” you told yourself as you gathered your bag and jacket from the backseat of your car and made your way to the front door. “Don’t cry, he’s only been home for 2 hours.” 

He opened the door with the perfect, boyish, Oscar smile, and you felt some of the tension of the day dissipate. “Hi,” he smiled. 

“Hi,” you grinned. You leaned in, running a hand through his unruly head of hair and fixing some of it that was out of place, then pressing a kiss to his lips. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” he whispered against your lips. “You have to come next time.” 

You sighed. “I wish I came this time,” you scoffed. 

“Bad day?” he asked, gently rubbing your back. 

“The worst,” you deflated in his arms, letting him completely hold you. 

“Well, I made your favourite for dinner,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “And then we can read a bit and go to bed. Sounds good?”

“Sounds perfect,” you nodded. “Thank you Osc.”

“I just love you,” he shrugged. “Come on, it’ll get cold,” he smiled, herding you into the dining room. 

How did you ever get so lucky?

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