#barely anything I try helps and if they do they only do so marginally: neck stretches & painkillers

[tragedykery]

it's truly headache season huh.

[macbethsymphony]

CHARLOU!!!!! BB!!!! I'm so glad you're doing this! As you know it's my bday in 2 days! Can I request something small, a drabble or something with my boy? You know the one, the prettiest scientist out there, my beautiful gas giant! THE ONE AND ONLY CAESAR CLOWN!!! Pretty please~ (Again, so fucking proud bb ily)

-M✨

MILLIE!!!!! BB!!! Anything for you my love! I'm a day late but you already knew that! Happy birthday 💕 It... ahem... evolved into a full fic, cause I love you like that. I know you hate y/n so 'little one' it is for you! Barely proofread and finished it high on Nyquil, so forgive the mistakes. Hope you enjoy, you horndog!!!

Choke

Caesar Clown x Female Reader

wc: 3.4k

warnings: NSFW, 18+, MDNI, pure smut, nonexistent plot, handjob, oral, face riding, choking, p in v intercourse, size difference, not proofread, no beta, just good old scientific brilliance and bad decisions

Summary: You knew your taste in men was questionable at best, downright bad most of the time. But Caesar fucking Clown, now that was an all-time low, even for you. Still, how could you resist the pretty scientist? It was truly an impossible task.

You knew your taste in men was questionable at best, downright bad most of the time. But Caesar fucking Clown, now that was an all-time low, even for you. You were willing to acknowledge your shoddy track record, unashamed of it really, but the unequivocal stares of disapproval Nami shot your way every time your eyes traveled to the scientist most definitely stung your ego.

You flipped a page of his research, trying your best to understand the complex jargon neatly written down. It surpassed your knowledge and not only by a small margin. The man was a genius, an overdramatic morally bankrupt asshole too, yes, but a genius nonetheless.

Scientist to scientist, you had to admit you understood the reasoning behind his actions, the incessant red tape of ethics was, after all, often a deterrent to progress. But still… those test subjects… children? You’d never stoop so low.

Or so you liked to think. Maybe you were putting yourself on a moral pedestal. Who knew, you guessed. After all, it was not like your research had ever been important enough for a warlord to hover over you. Who knew to what lengths you’d go to if that’d happen? Though you still hoped you would never go so far.

Your tired stare left the complex equations for a second, looking at the man in question, sitting on the floor next to you. You leaned back in your chair, gaze studying the bored expression on his face.

Despite your better judgment, you couldn’t help but notice how pretty he was in the afternoon sun. The softness of his features was an interesting contrast to his usual boastful condescending smile. It was a rare moment where you could look at him in the eyes. He usually neck-breakingly towered over you. Hell, even sitting at your feet he was still considerably taller than you.

With a sigh, you went back to the incomprehensible data. You didn’t understand shit.

“Caesar.” You swallowed down your pride. “Care to explain this part to me?” You surveyed the deck, noting the incessant activity. “Perhaps away from this circus.”

You watched as he processed your words, his gaze shifting from boredom to mild interest as he considered. Then his manic laughter hit your ears softly.

“What is it?” He asked, cocking his head to the side, condescension thick in his voice. “Too complicated for you, little one?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Skipped a fucking beat.

You suddenly stood. Fucking beautiful bastard. You felt your cheeks heat up slightly at the sight. The way his hair flowed and framed his face, the easy smile on his lips, the amusement in his amber eyes. You quickly hit his head with the papers in your hands in reproach, an impulsive attempt to hide the pink plastering your face.

“You know damn well you’re smarter than I, Caesar Clown,” you shouted over your shoulder as you stomped to the privacy of the aquarium. “Are you coming or not?” You held open the door impatiently.

His laughter redoubled, but nonetheless, he stood up and followed. As he passed you, bending over to pass the doorframe, the floating fabric of his coat brushed against you, sending a shiver you desperately tried to suppress right to your core.

Caesar's towering frame dominated the small room as you headed to the hidden bar at its center. The soft ambient light from the aquarium’s large windows cast a serene glow over the glasses you retrieved, filling them with amber liquid. You downed the contents, letting the alcohol burn its way down your throat, washing away the chaos of your thoughts temporarily. You filled it back up before settling yourself on the banquette.

You observed the scientist as he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms with a smug grin, thinly veiling his excitement. "So, what part of my brilliant work is baffling you?" he asked, his tone dripping with self-satisfaction.

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betrayed a hint of a smile. It was cute, how thrilled he was to talk about his research. "This section here," you said, pointing to the page filled with complex equations and chemical notations. "Your derivations seem to assume certain constants that I don't recognize. Care to enlighten me?"

Caesar's grin widened as he sauntered next to you, peering over at the page in your hands. You could sense the heat radiating from his body, he smelled like a laboratory, almost antiseptic. You liked it, it was somehow comforting and it took all your willpower to maintain your composure.

"Ah, I see," he murmured, his voice low and close. The seriousness of his tone surprised you. You’d expected condescending laughter, not an actual answer. It made your heart beat. Fast. You could feel his breath on your skin as he explained. "These constants are unique to the gas properties I've synthesized. They're not something you'd find in standard scientific literature."

You peered up at him, your gaze bright with a million questions. "And why is that? What makes them so special?"

Caesar's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Because, little one, they are the result of my own genius. A proprietary blend of compounds that I alone have perfected."

Despite yourself, you couldn't help but be drawn in by his passion for his work. It was clear that, beneath his arrogant exterior, Caesar was deeply committed to his research. And, in a way, you admired that.

Hours had dragged on, he was still speaking, lost in complex arrays of numbers that no longer meant anything to you. You were barely listening anymore. Hell, who were you kidding, you’d lost track of his explanations ages ago. He was so pretty, the excitement in his eyes made his whole face light up.

You downed the remnants of your glass, trying to come back to reality.

“Say, Caesar, do you like women?” The words left your mouth without your mind registering. Fucking liquid courage. Your heart sank as you awaited his teasing, the unsteady rhythm loud in your ears.

He froze.

Oh.

That was a nice expression on his face. Blushing and wide-eyed. You wondered if it would be the same if you made him cum. Would he whimper and beg as your fingers tightened around his cock? Gods, now you just HAD to know.

“M-me?” He stuttered instinctively slumping to the floor, the chains at his wrists rattling as he pointed to himself.

Your mouth curved into a sly smirk. You leaned forward, then stood up. For once you towered over him. You reached out to his jawline in a fleeting touch, tracing his chin, tilting his face so he looked at you. You stepped closer, feet between his legs, eyes blown by lust as you met his gaze, impulse taking over your very being. You knew this was a shitty idea, but who cared.

“I don’t see anyone else here, Caesar,” you were close now, your breath almost mingling with each other’s. “You can stop me if you want.” Your hand danced lower, his throat bobbing against cool fingers. “I won’t mind.”

But he didn’t stop you.

You placed a chaste kiss against his cheek, then his lips, giving him all the time in the world to oppose.

“What do you say, Caesar?” You cocked your head to the side, inviting him in.

His breath hitched, then his laughter started to nervously echo off the walls, gaining confidence with each chuckle. He leaned into you, his whispery laughter touching your mouth as the glint in his gaze slowly matched your hunger.

Your lips met his once again, silencing him with a yearning you hadn't realized was simmering beneath the surface. His laughter melted into a raspy moan as he responded eagerly, moving against you in a desperate dance of desire. Your tongue dragged along him, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of his lower lip, begging for more.

Your tongues tangled. You lost yourself in the heat of the moment, the taste of him intoxicating, a heady blend of scientific brilliance and bad decisions. Everything about him was massive in comparison to you, he was filling your mouth in ways that were unknown to you. It was nearly overwhelming, and it would be were he not so hesitant.

Your fingers tangled in his hair almost roughly as you leaned into him. The chains at his wrists rattled as his hands went to your waist, gloved digits inching up your shirt. That wouldn’t do. You wanted, no, needed, to feel his skin against yours. You pulled away, lidded gaze tracking the strand of saliva that connected the both of you for a moment.

“So pretty,” you whispered, your hands leaving his hair, traveling down his chest, pushing aside fabric, his coat dropping off of his shoulders, catching at the crease of his elbows. Your hands went to his, still at your side, and brought them to your face. They were so fucking big, long fingers dwarfing your own. You placed a soft kiss to his palm before biting on the tip of his glove and tugging it off.

His gaze never strayed from yours, his pupils blowing larger with each passing moment. You tugged off the second glove and settled them back to where they’d been, flesh finally meeting flesh. It made you want to roll your eyes in satisfaction, melt into him. But gods, you needed more. So much more.

The tips of your fingers slowly teased the hem of your shirt up before discarding it in a quick motion, your bra unashamedly following suit.

You dropped to your knees. You silently cursed the sea stone shackles preventing you from stripping him fully. Your hand traveled up his thigh, fabric bunching as your nails dug in slightly. He gasped, eyes blown with lust as you roamed closer to the extremely obvious tightness in his jumpsuit. Your other hand settled on his heart for a fleeting moment, savoring the subtle beat beneath your palm. Ever so slowly your fingers wrapped against the zipper tab, dragging it down and revealing pale skin.

You looked up at him through your lashes as you traced along his v-line, relishing the shudder in his breath as you palmed his hard-on through his underwear.

“Already so hard?” You teased, inching the elastic of his boxers down, freeing his cock. The hand you had on his thigh went to his hand and guided it to your breast, urging him to pinch and squeeze. “Who knew you were so desperate, Caesar Clown?” You brushed a bead of precum over his tip before wrapping your fingers around him.

Fuck he was big. Your fingers couldn’t close around him. You brought your other hand to his cock, twisting in opposite directions as you worked him up and down tantalizingly slow.

“Fuck,” he moaned, arching his back and bucking his hips in a frantic attempt for more.

The blush on his cheeks, his parted lips, the way his body steadily unraveled beneath your touch, it all sent an intense desire between your legs. You smiled, squeezing a little harder as you traveled to his tip. A whimper escaped him and it tasted sweeter than honey to your ears. His hand dropped from your breast to your waist, then to your thigh and to your core. The tips of his fingers found your soaked underwear, pushing it to the side and meeting your slick.

You felt him trace your slit, the pad of his thumb circling your clit as he entered two fingers into you, pumping in and out slowly. For an instant your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, your breath catching in pleasure. They felt so different from yours, stretching you and reaching to places you couldn’t. Your hands stuttered in their movement.

His laughter touched your ears. “You’re quite desperate yourself, little one,” he stated between two grunts.

You smirked, your attention brought back to him. The cheeky bastard. You picked a faster pace, each stroke precise as you sought to make him eat his words.

He broke into a wanton moan, his fingers stopping inside of you at the overwhelming sensation. Your hips rolled in tandem, instinctively searching for your own release. It wasn’t enough to get you off but the way your clit grazed on his palm, smearing arousal all over his hand made your breath shudder along his.

“So good for me.” You brushed against his tip, gathering more precum still leaking from him, coating him, your palms slick as you continued with more fervor.

His hips thrust up, trying to match your pace, mewls and incomprehensible begs escaping his lips. His body convulsed as he came, thick ropes of cum spilling onto his abdomen. You didn’t stop, maintaining the strokes up and down his cock, prolonging his orgasm. One of your hands left him to rejoin his hand at your core, increasing the pressure of his palm against your clit as you rutted against him.

He was still in his high as you bent down, slowly licking the cum from his stomach, hips rolling against his hand, fucking yourself shamelessly. “You’re unusually silent, Caesar,” you said as you moved up, cleaning ever so thoroughly, cum salty on your tongue. “Who knew it was this easy to shut you up.”

It seemed to flip a switch in him as he finally came back to reality. His fingers picked up their work, his laughter strong as he rejoiced in the needy mewls escaping your lips. You didn’t mind, if it brought him the illusion of control, you’d let him indulge.

He was so big, and while you were already dripping you’d need to be wetter for this to work. You eyed the way his mouth twisted into a condescending smile, your walls twitching around his fingers at the sight. “Is that pretty mouth of yours good at something other than explaining your research?” You hinted none too subtly at what you wanted.

His laughter became manic at your suggestion. His tongue passed his lips and you mewled and bucked against him, desperately trying to chase your high. Two of your fingers joined his inside you, the stretch so divine that your other hand shot to his chest, nails digging into him looking for purchase.

“Why don’t you explain to me exactly what you want, little one.” He increased the pressure against your clit, fingers inside you working in a come-hither motion. You were so fucking close. You pushed against his chest, instructing him to lie down and he did, leaning back unto his elbow.

“I want your tongue, Caesar,” you panted, your vision feeling blown out from pleasure. “I want your face between my thighs as I ride that clever tongue of yours.”

The speed of his thumb against the bundle of nerves increased as he felt the rhythm of your hips stutter. “Is that all you want? How about you come on my fingers first, little one, then I’ll drink from that pretty cunt of yours.”

Oh gods, that sounded heavenly. You hadn’t expected such words out of him, his hesitation entirely gone. Your hand left his at your core, plastering itself on your mouth in an attempt to muffle the moans escaping you.

“Please,” you begged ever so close, hips stuttering. He laughed, the sound sending you over the edge. Your body went taut as you came, thighs closing tightly around his hand.

His fingers left your heat when it became too much. You looked at him as he picked you up by the waist, dragging you close to his face as he settled himself down on the wooden floor.

You took him on the invitation, quickly discarding your ruined panties to the side and straddling him, grip tangling in his hair as you eagerly awaited the feeling of his mouth. The metal of his cuffs was cold against your flushed skin as he wrapped his hands around your thighs, your skirt rising to your waist as he lowered you slowly to him.

His tongue circled your clit leisurely at first, the sensation slightly too sharp after your orgasm. Then his lips enveloped the bundle of nerves and he began to suck and the moan that you let out was so loud that you prayed that everyone on board was well and asleep in their bunks by now. Your hands shifted, looking for balance as your thighs trembled, fingers gripping the base of his horns.

The moan he let out at the sensation was just as loud and depraved as yours. You heard his hips buck into nothing as you started fucking his face brashly. His tongue darted in you and you felt so full. You hadn’t realized it was so long and thick. He was hitting all the right places, drinking you in desperately. His nose caught on your clit and your thighs instinctively sought to close at the overstimulation, but his hands held you steady and he redoubled his pace.

Everything seemed shaky and blurry around you, your breathing uneven and struggling between the mewls and begging flowing out of your lips.

“Caesar,” you chanted, your eyes rolling at the back of your head. Your toes curled as your high approached dangerously. “I’m going to come, please.”

And you came. Hard. He continued to lick and suck as your vision filled with white and you cried in ecstasy. As the movements of his tongue bordered into overstimulation you backed away, sitting on his heaving chest, his own pants matching yours.

Your gazes met and you smiled, satisfaction clear on your expression. “Are you going to be a good boy and let me fuck you, Caesar?” You asked, shifting down slowly. You grabbed his cock, lining yourself to him. His lips parted in a shaky exhale, thick with anticipation. “Caesar?” You demanded again when he didn’t answer.

“Gods, yes, little one,” he breathed out in a shaking voice.

You smirked, lowering yourself, the tip of his cock stretching you out. “So good,” you whimpered, your head rolling back, taking him further and further.

His hips twitched, and you pressed down on him, stopping the movement and giving him a warning look. “Be patient for me, Caesar,” you moaned as his hands found your thighs, nails digging into plush flesh in restraint.

He was so big, the stretch was almost painful but the ecstasy of having him sheathed inside you was addictive. “Fuck, Caesar,” you mewled as you rolled you hips. “I wish those shackles were off.” You found a steady rhythm, pace quickening in search of rapture. “I bet you could control so much, control the oxygen around,” you stuttered in pleasure. “Choke me just enough as you’d fuck me good, hm?”

He groaned at the idea, his moans matching yours, the heat in his gaze blazing hot at the words spilling out of your mouth. He brought his hands to your throat, answering your desperate pleas. He was speechless as he watched you fuck yourself on his cock, the sight divine as his fingers tightened perfectly around you.

You keened and mewled, lightheaded and oh so close to your release.

So good.

It was so fucking good.

“That’s right, little one,” you heard him encourage you through the curtains of pleasure dominating your mind. His hips met yours, chasing his own pleasure.

Your walls twitched around him and you sobbed out him name, tears staining your flushed cheeks as you came around him. The world was slowly disappearing, darkness on the edge of your vision as rapture took over your very being.

You distantly felt him come inside you, thick hot spurts against your womb. His thrusts became shallow and his hold on you slackened, letting you fall over his chest, damp skin meeting damp skin.

It took you a while to come back to reality, the steady rhythm of his heart almost bringing you to slumber. You slowly shifted, hot seed dripping down your thigh but his arms wrapped around you and brought you back against him.

You giggled, feeling giddy as his fingers gently traced the curve of your spine. His laughter mixed with yours and all seemed perfect in that moment.

Fuck that was good. You thanked the gods above that you had quite the voyage before you. There was no way you could ever get enough of this.

Masterlist

[gurugirl]

I miss the priest and his pet!!

What about if we get to kind of see a continuation of where she was sitting on his lap with him inside her while he was getting his homily ready at the end of part 3??? Because that was hot and I want to know where that went. There’s no way they didn’t have hot seggggs after he was done.

Summary: Harry lets you sit in his lap while he finishes his homily. But you continue being a brat so he has to take further measures to get you in line.

A/N: Thank you for this request! Loved writing this one - though it's been in my drafts for months! Enjoy babe! 4k words

Warning: 18+ only, smut, bondage, overstimulation, cage play, dom/sub dynamic

Priest!harry Masterlist

✞✞✞✞

Excerpt from Ch. 3 of Forgive Me, Father (read for refresher)

“You’re naughty today. You were given a lot of attention already this morning pet. You know the rules. But let’s try something else now. Climb up into my lap and sit over me. But you have to stay still, otherwise, I’m going to tie you up and put you in your cage where you’ll stay until I’m done.”

Harry helped her stand up and she sat over his lap, facing him. Harry held onto the base of his cock as Y/n angled herself to slip down over him. She watched his face as she slowly encased him and Harry was barely holding it together. He pulled her into his chest and she tucked her face into his neck so he could see his work as he scooted back up to the desk and picked up where he left off once Y/n had coated him with herself fully. The tiny squeezes and clenches felt good around Harry’s big dick, but he remained calculated as he read the scripture he was using for inspiration for the homily he was preparing for Sunday mass.

✞✞✞✞

Y/n was a very good girl for nearly ten minutes. Harry was impressed. His pet had been a bit of a brat all day but it seemed all she needed was just to be close to Harry. He'd let her sit with him as long as she kept still.

Her warm breath was humid against Harry's neck and he could feel her breathing in soft puffs. Her naked body sat against his clothed one as she gently shifted over him.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment to call on a higher power to control himself. The girl was warm and wet and her walls were clenching around him each time she tilted her hips.

Harry was prepping for his Sunday homily. It was a Friday and it was important for him to have it ready that evening so he could go over it again the following night to make sure he hadn't missed anything.

He scribbled a note in the margin of his Bible and then jotted down a verse in his notebook when he noticed his pet shifting back and forth very very slightly. The tiny tick of her hips and the way her pelvis tilted and she squeezed around him was delicious but he needed to finish before they could really get to playing.

"Little girl," he said in a tone of warning, "what did I tell you?"

Shifting back a little so she could look up at him she rounded her eyes sweetly and batted her lashes, "Sorry, Father. I'll stay still."

"Not what I asked you. What did I tell you was going to happen if you didn't stay still?"

She bit her lip and let her eyes wander to the side of the room before slowly bringing her faux innocent gaze back to Harry, "You said you would tie me up and put me in my cage."

Harry hummed, "That's right. If you do that again I will have you sitting in your cage away from me until I'm done. If you're a good girl for me, you can sit here in my lap and you'll get to feel me inside of you the whole time. And when I’m done, then we'll play."

Y/n nodded. Her soft bottom lip bit into her mouth.

Harry pulled her into his chest as he turned his attention back to his homily. Y/n sighed and he could feel her fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt. But she was being good keeping still and not moving over him. For a few more minutes.

Harry's focus was already interrupted by having her in his lap as her soft and wet pussy kept his cock nice and warm. But when he noticed her breath pick up and he felt the way she was gently pulsing herself around him he sat his pencil down and she moaned at the small movement he made and then rocked down over him once. And then twice. A third time.

"You're a brat today. So you'll get the punishment a brat deserves," he spoke and he moved her off of him and stood up, grabbing her by her ponytail and leading her to the bedroom.

"Father! Please! I need you! Please!!" She squealed as he opened up the cage.

She put her hands onto his forearms and he let go of her hair, "Get in."

Immediately she fell to her knees and grasped onto the fabric of his trousers just under his knees, "No. Please! I just... I need you so bad today. Father," she pressed the top of her head into the space between his knees before slowly craning her head back to look up at him, blinking her eyes with her lips set in a pout, "please."

Harry stood tall and unmoving. He wasn't buying her act. She loved all his attention on her when they were home alone together. It wasn't the first time she'd interrupted his studying because she was too needy. Sometimes he'd give in but the more he gave in, the more she did things like this, thinking she could possibly persuade her dominant to let her have her way.

She needed to learn her lesson. He couldn't leave another homily prep until the last minute. He hated to rush. Hated to feel like he wasn't prepared. He'd allowed it too many times, secretly enjoying the way she needed him and begged for his attention.

"In the cage."

Y/n let go of his pants and put her hands in her lap as she looked down. She wasn't moving.

"Do as you’re told like a good girl."

No answer. Just a huff.

Harry sighed and shook his head as he went to the dresser and removed the red cotton bondage rope.

Kneeling behind her he pulled at her arms and drew her wrists behind her back and began winding the restraints together upward toward her elbows until the fit was snug and she would be unable to get out but not so tight that her circulation was cut off.

As he stood, he pulled her with him, grasping the back of her arm, and brought her into the cage, where he had her sit on her pillow, moving her legs to the side and began to wrap more rope around her ankles.

She didn't say a word as she kept her head down.

"There," the priest spoke when he'd finished tying her up as he stood to close the door.

"Please don't go,” she spoke with her face still downcast.

Harry latched the door closed and paused, "Look at me, pet. Right now."

She turned her head and tilted her neck back so she could look up at him.

"Are you okay?"

She sat for a moment as she blinked her eyes. She just wanted his attention. She hated when he was so focused on something else.

"Please will you give me one more chance? I'll be good this time."

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head, "I have to get my work done. You are making it impossible. Last week you pulled something like this and I had to rush through finishing my homily last minute,” he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip and tried to keep a grin from breaking out onto his face (because she was so cute and he actually enjoyed this kind of play with her), “You’re naughty. Stay in here until I’m done. And I don’t want to hear a peep from you either or I’ll have to gag you.”

He took the skeleton key from his pocket and placed it into the lock, twisting it and securing the door. Harry looked back over his pet to make sure she was okay. As much as seeing her in the cage with her hands and ankles tied gave him a tinge of excitement, power he always wanted her to be okay.

When Harry left the bedroom he closed the door behind him and she whined quietly. She knew she deserved this. And he might not fall for it anymore. Last week she really made a scene. She was a brat, interrupting his work repeatedly. He spanked her. She resisted. So he put her in her cage (but made the mistake of not locking it because she promised to be good) but she got out and crawled to him begging for his attention. He put her back in the cage, tied her arms above her head, and gagged her. And by the time he sat back down he was fully distracted, turned on, and too much time had gone by to get his mind back into his work. So he didn’t finish his homily that night. Rather, he listened to her muted whines and grunts from his work desk and planned out a more appropriate punishment for her.

And now, a week later, here they were again. He loved to play with her. He enjoyed their dynamic but she had been quite a lot brattier over the more recent weeks. So he was being made to stay on his toes with her. It was fun. He actually liked this. But he truly did have a homily to finish.

She was tempted to call for him. Or whimper loudly so he could hear it. But she decided against it. She didn’t know what had gotten into her exactly. She just liked having his attention on her. Liked it even if was in the form of punishment (but of course she liked punishment and spikes of pain that led to an overflow of oxytocin afterward).

She shifted on the pillow, trying to keep herself in a comfortable position, sitting on her bottom and bending her knees into her chest. She used her feet to push herself back against the cage to lean onto the cool metal, her arms behind her digging into the bars. She rested her head back and closed her eyes. She’d try to be a good girl for her priest. Y/n knew getting his homily finished was important to him.

With every line Harry wrote and each passage he read and contemplated, he couldn’t get over how quiet she was being. Why was he now unable to stop wondering what she was doing (which was obviously nothing because he’d tied her up and locked her in her cage) when he’d finally gotten her to be quiet and could focus on his work?

He groaned and closed his eyes. It had only been about a half hour and he had made some ground in preparation for Sunday, but he didn’t get as far as he wanted. He hoped to be mostly done at the half-hour mark but he was far from it. In fact, at the pace he was going it would take two hours to have everything prepped.

Looking toward the bedroom door he had an idea. It would make for a long night but in the end, they’d both get what they wanted and he could clear his mind to focus on the task at hand when he was done with her.

She popped her eyes open when Harry stepped into the bedroom, “Father! Are you done?”

Harry unlocked the cage door and grasped her underarm to help her scoot out of the metal enclosure and he lifted her up to bring her to the bed, “Not yet. But I’ve decided to show you mercy.”

The truth was that he was just as needy. His cock was still half-hard in his pants the whole time he’d been studying and so he was really the one that needed mercy if he were to tell her the whole truth. He needed his urges soothed.

Lying on her side she stretched her neck to see what he was doing behind her but he was across the room and she was unable to get him in view.

“Need to calm you down. Make you feel all soft and pliable so I can get my work done finally.”

Y/n grinned to herself. She knew the truth. She’d been good and quiet for a while but he couldn’t stop thinking about her and now he was the one that needed to calm down so he could concentrate. She’d done her job then.

When she felt the bed dip and Harry grab her wrists, he pushed at her to lie face down into the mattress. He lifted her ankles up, pushing them close to her wrists behind her back, and began tying another rope in between to attach her ankles and her wrists.  

He tugged at the braided material when he was done and grunted. She felt the mattress shift and she turned her head to look at her priest but he swatted her bottom with the leather paddle and she squealed, “Face down.”

She could hear him removing his clothes. She loved to look at his body and ogle him. He was fit and muscular. And he was strong. He always handled her as if she weighed nothing and she knew it was because he was in such good shape. But she took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she kept her face into the comforter below, using her sense of hearing to determine what was happening next.

Harry kneed up behind her and nudged her thighs apart so he could have access to her. Smoothing his hands over the outside of her thighs and up to her hips he pulled at her and lifted slightly before she felt his fingers spreading her cheeks apart.

She was vulnerable tied up this way. She couldn’t move much. She was able to open her thighs up and twist to her side but that was about it.

Suddenly Harry’s fingers were in her ponytail and he pulled her head up with one hand as he stuffed the gag ball into her mouth with the other. He buckled the gag in place and released her hair so her face fall back into the mattress. But with the gag, it was far less comfortable. She’d deal with it, though. She’d had worse.

“Was this what you wanted?” Harry spoke in a deep voice. Dominant and dark.

She moaned as a response and the priest laughed, “Oh. My sincerest apologies. You can’t talk right now, can you? Well, I guess that’s a good thing since you’ve been trying my patience for most of the day. I’m gonna fuck you and make myself come. I don’t care if you come at all,” his words were tight as he pushed his thumb into her labia, already wet for him. He actually did care if she came. In fact, the intention was to make her come until she couldn’t take it anymore. And since Harry knew just how to do it and make it happen fast, he was going to torture her with overstimulation until he finally came himself.

A stinging smack against the side of her bum with the paddle caused her to groan but the next smack had her eyes watering. The third rendered her silent as drool pooled onto the blanket below her mouth where she was gagged.

When he’d gotten her nice and red, and the skin was raised and hot to his touch he chuckled at how quiet she’d gotten. But the glistening from her pussy was the giveaway indicating how much she enjoyed it. She loved being spanked. He loved spanking her.

Suddenly she was being pulled at again, her hips brought up another few inches when suddenly she felt the cool silicone of one of the vibrators enter her pussy. Harry pushed it in slowly but she was fully aroused and ready for it. He brought it into her until it was secured and the front tip of the silicone that laid against her clit was in place. She knew this vibrator. This was the one that had her coming fast because of the way it vibrated against her clit and curled into that yummy spot on the inside. He turned it on and cooed at her when she moaned around the gag, “S’good isn’t it pet? This’ll have you nice and subdued for me while I come in your ass.”

She was already shaking and her heart was racing by the time Harry had prepped her bum for his cock, adding lube and fingering her open.

Harry could hear the way she was moaning and breathing through her nose heavily. He’d have her nice and worn out for him by the time he was done.

Filling her bum slowly she suddenly stiffened and her muffled moans were louder, “Aww, poor baby. Did you need to come? You can if you need to.”

As he continued to prod into her he could feel her clenching around him and he held the vibrator back in place as the way she was squeezing and pulsing nearly had the toy being pushed out, “Ah ah ah… this stays in.”

She wasn’t in any mind to understand what he was saying as she had her first orgasm, letting the electricity heat up her core as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. When she began to come down she squealed as the vibrator was buzzing against her sensitive clit. She tried to cry out around the gag but the noise was muffled and her drool only increased. Her chin and cheeks were drenched. But now she was feeling his cock too. He was slipping himself in and out, pressing into her deeply and moaning above her as her pussy was still being stimulated.

Harry kept his hand on the vibrator as he fucked her. The vibrations filling her insides and tapping into his cock the entire time. It felt good. Harry loved fucking her when she had the vibrator in.

“Your bottom is all red but your pussy is dripping pet. You’re so needy today. You were even taken care of this morning and yet here you are on the cusp of coming a second time in less than five minutes.”

Harry smirked as he eyes the scene below. Her ankles and wrists tied together behind her back, her sore bottom needing a bit of soothing (which he’d get to later), her pussy packed with the vibrator and the little nub at the end dancing over the hood of her clit, shiny with arousal, and his favorite thing to see; the way his cock filled her bottom and how she opened up wide for him.

Each time Harry’s hips met her ass she was shoved forward slightly. He was inside of her deeply, moving in and out, making her brain turn to mush when suddenly she was hit with another wave of ecstasy. She gurgled and clenched hard around the toy and her lover’s cock as he continued pounding into her.

Harry closed his eyes and groaned. He needed to last as long as possible, which he knew wouldn’t be long with how worked up he’d been and good she felt around him at that moment.

Her shaky limbs were stunted by the rope as he fucked into her fluttering muscle.

“Fuck…” he let out a curse. His own hips stuttered as he struggled to keep it together. But part of her punishment would be to come a couple more times. He knew he could hold out.

She whined and arched her back at the excess of sensations. Her clit was revolting, her pussy was clasping and leaking, her ass was getting stuffed so hard it ached.

Harry buried himself into her and paused for a moment, the little toy buzzing and making him moan. He had to still himself for a moment before he came as his balls were already tightening and preparing for his orgasm.

But the way his orgasm continued to slowly build he knew he had to pull out. The vibrations alone would make him come. He slipped himself out and panted as he held the vibrator inside of her and used his other hand to hold the rope to keep her position for him.

She was making soft little whimpers and her hips were gently swaying as she was trying to fight the hyperstimulation. But she was powerless against it. Because she began to come again for the third time. Harry choked out a moan and watched as her body convulsed and her neck tightened, causing her head to lift upward. Her tensed muscles had her constricted limbs jerking in compact little movements.

When she had come down from her orgasm and began to wiggle away from the vibrator (which was impossible as he kept it in place with his hand) he finally dipped himself back in and gasped. His cock twitched and the sensation was delicious.

“Gonna come again, pet? Bet this will teach you to behave, won’t it?” His words were panted as he languidly pushed and pulled himself into and out of her tight hole. His thick cock was being squeezed and petted by her insides as he sunk into her repeatedly.

He watched her closely as he clenched his jaw holding back his orgasm. He wanted her to come once more before he poured into her.

And it came quickly. When her body tensed again and her soft muted moans grew louder around the gag he began to pump himself into her harder and faster as his release finally took over.

She jerked around him as she came and he pushed into her until his come was filling her. He stopped his hips as he spurted warm sperm from his tip inside her but her body was trembling and lurching.

It was so much. So much. She thought she would simply cease to exist. Her body didn’t feel real. Her insides were melted by his cock and the vibrations from the toy. It seemed as if she didn’t exist as a human, but only a thing that kept coming involuntarily and was being used as a holding vessel for her priest.

When Harry clicked the toy off she felt her heart beating again but her mind was elsewhere. Her body floating in the clouds above.  

The priest pulled his cock out and watched as his come dripped from her ass. He’d leave her lying on her side, filled with his come, tied, and gagged as she came down while he finished his homily.

Now he was ready to get his work done. His mind was cleared, his body relaxed. And afterward, he’d untie his sweet girl and kiss her all over, put her in a warm bath, and speak softly to her as he brought her back.

He kissed her temple as he gently laid her on her side, “Stay here and relax. I’ll be back for you, pet.”

She was in a dream state with her eyes closed and her body like jello so she didn’t even notice when he finally returned and his warm hands deftly untied her until her arms and legs were free and the gag was removed. He kissed her wrists and her ankles and her bottom before placing her in a tepid bath. He held her to his chest and whispered to her.

“Such a good girl. I love you, pet. My little sweet submissive. I’m right here when you’re ready.”

She could hear him. His words and his voice but to unscramble the sentence and make any sense of it was difficult at first.

He rubbed his hands up and down her arms and squeezed every now and then to switch up the sensation and bring her back as he continued speaking into her ear, “Tomorrow we’ll have a movie night. Whatever you want to watch,” he chuckled when he felt her move and she groaned lightly, “How does that sound?”

Harry stayed with her and coaxed her back slowly with soft coos and touches, damp presses of his lips on her neck and cheek.

They’d both gotten what they wanted. Harry finished prepping his homily and Y/n had gotten his attention. He adored having her so soft and gooey after she came so many times and her body was limp, but he loved it even more each time she began to come back to him, her doe eyes blinking and soft sighs falling from her mouth.

Helping her dry off and steadying her as he brought her to the couch with a big blanket he tucked her in and brought her a warm tea with honey to share.

“Father?” Her first real words to speak since he’d had her gagged.

He looked at her as he secured her red leather collar back to her neck (which he’d removed before the bath) and her eyes were on his, “Yes, pet.”

“I’m hungry too.”

Harry smiled and took the mug from her hands and placed it on the coffee table.

“You know what? So am I. I’ll make us some cucumber tomato sandwiches with that cheese you like. Does that sound good?”

She nodded and hummed, “Yes, Father. Thank you.”

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[pisspope]

been writing this off and on for about a month and now im finally... finally finished

Waffle House Hashbrowns (Smothered & Covered)

reiner x reader

cw: afab reader, fem reader (wears skirt, gets called a good girl) softdom reiner, spit kink, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, mdni

"You want me to what?"

"You heard me. I want you to spit on me next time we have sex."

Reiner is bamboozled, flabbergasted, stupefied. Him? Spit on you? The person he loves most on this earth? Why would he do that?

"You must be joking."

"No, I'm not. I think it'd be really hot."

Reiner blinks twice, slowly. This makes no sense. "But why would I do that?"

You sigh, sit up on your shared bed. "Because I want you to and it's sexy? If it makes you uncomfortable we don't have to."

Reiner swallows hard, feeling backed into a corner of his own creation. He wants to please you in every way possible, and that means never degrading or disrespecting you. But if the only way to please you is to degrade you, well, he can't exactly say no. He touches your arm, gently keeping you in place. "No, I'll do it. I'll do it for you."

You laugh lightly, move your other hand to lay on top of his. "You don't need to be so serious about this, Rei. It's supposed to be fun!"

"Sorry," he says, hanging his head. "Just have trouble. You know I never want to make you feel lesser. You... you mean everything to me."

You pout a little without thinking. He's so sweet sometimes it borders on saccharine. You turn to him, bring all of him that will fit into your smaller frame into a tight hug. "I know how you feel, baby. That's... kind of why I want to try this with you. Because I trust you. I know you won't do anything I don't feel comfortable with."

He digs his chin into the crook of your neck, and you can feel his cheeks burning. He can give you all the flowery words in the world, let you know without a doubt that he's wrapped around your finger, but the second you reciprocate he's a mess. "I said I'll do it. No need to make me cry about it."

You chuckle, knowing that's not just an empty threat. Ever since he confessed his feelings, he's let everything show right on his sleeve, letting you into his inner world without a second thought. "All right, start getting hydrated." You pull away, run a hand through his hair. "I just know your spit is salty from all those peanuts."

He looks shocked, face in a comical 'o'. "What do you mean? I've barely touched the container in the pantry."

"Yeah? And what about the empty one in the trashcan?"

You watch the blush rush up from the line of his t-shirt to his cheeks. Busted. He looks away, defeated. "I'll go fill up my water bottle."

---

It was your normal weekend routine: wake up, run errands that couldn't be done during the work week, come home and get ready for your date night, have a great time with your man, profit. Only your profit margins tonight? Exponential, unprecedented gains.

Reiner's hands are exploring every inch of you the second the front door is closed, keys flung to the floor, leftovers all but forgotten on a side table.

"Can't wait to get you in bed," he murmurs, breath hot on the bare skin of your shoulder. "Gonna make you feel so good, promise."

You almost want to giggle, because this is so unlike him, to be so domineering and borderline possessive, but you're too into it to break the tension. He's trying something new for you, and you're as grateful as you are turned on. Before you can encourage him to keep going, he's swung you back into his arms fully, head close enough to his chest that you can feel the erratic beating of his heart.

And Reiner's nothing if not a man of his word. He picks you up bridal style, one arm doing most of the heavy lifting around your shoulders, while the other grips firmly into the meat of your ass. He ascends the stairs to your shared bedroom on muscle memory, his eyes too busy drinking you in to give mind to much else.

"So beautiful," he whispers, like he can't help himself. He hesitates on the top step, bringing you down to rest your bottom on the bend of his knee. He uses the added support to lean his head down, catching your lips in a deep kiss. "And all mine."

It only takes a few more steps before you're at the foot of your bed, and Reiner hesitates. He chuckles nervously, dances from one foot to the other. "I, uh, forgot to take my shoes off," he breathes, and you realize you're in the same predicament. "Just got too caught up in it."

Before you can assure him that it's fine, it's okay, his mouth is on yours. He's kissing you like he's starved for it, hands dancing excitedly at your waist, your shoulders, your breasts, anywhere he can touch. A well-timed squeeze of your inner thigh forces a small moan from your throat, and he takes that opportunity to plunge his tongue into you, tasting and exploring further. His knee pushes your legs open while he attacks your mouth, grinding lightly against you, just enough to tease.

You look up at him and laugh lightly, adjusting in his arms to kick off your shoes. The two of you had gone to a local restaurant in nicer outfits, but it certainly wasn't a black tie affair. Blouse and skirt for you, button-up and jeans for him. He lays you down gently, toes off his loafers and pushes them under the bed, always the gentleman.

"Sorry," he mutters, wasting no time in clambering on top of you. "Don't want to track mud in the house."

He breaks the kiss to come up for air, a trail of spit connecting your mouths. He glances at it, then smiles at you, eyes hooded. "This what you were talking about?"

You nod up at him, too love drunk to speak. "More," you manage to breathe out, hands snaking up his arms to rest on his shoulderblades, familiar and comfortable.

His smile morphs into a smirk, and those deep golden eyes go dark. "Greedy," he whispers, face impossibly close. He brings a hand to your cheek, caresses it with a feather light touch, before bringing his thumb to your lower lip and pulling your mouth open. "You'll take what I give you."

He leans down like he's going to kiss your open mouth, but instead he sucks in his cheeks, puckers his lips, and slowly lets the spit that coats his mouth drool into your own. With his lips in your mouth and his thumb holding you open, you have no choice but to take it, its warmth pooling and spreading into every corner of you. It's not spitting on you per se, but it is unbearably intimate. Exactly what you'd expect from a man like Reiner.

He breaks away again, taking that same thumb and hand to force your mouth closed. "Swallow," he orders. You comply without a second thought, throat bobbing as you take it all into you. Reiner can't help the little moan that leaves him, seeing you so obedient and hazy-eyed from just the taste of him. He's gonna lose his mind. He can barely huff out a "good girl" as he's unbuttoning your blouse.

And for someone who usually relinquishes all control to you in the bedroom, Reiner is remarkably good at this. Blouse removed, he pulls up your bra and dives for your breasts, licking and sucking and making lewd noises you seldom hear from him. His hands circle around your back, unhooking your bra with the dexterity of a professional. Which, with how much he lavishes over your boobs, may as well be the truth.

Without thinking you respond in kind, bringing your hands up to his collar and working your way down. His blond chest hair peeks out around button four, and you have to resist the urge to grab him by it and pull him close, to devour him in even more open mouthed kisses.

Not tonight. You remind yourself. He's in control.

Breasts now fully freed, he takes one in his mouth and brings his hand to play with the other. He's always been good at this, knows when to pinch and suck and fondle and which spots hit just right, but tonight is different. He's using his tongue more, applying pressure to your nipples and taking as much of you in his mouth as he can. Leaving large open mouthed kisses up and down your chest, pulling away and leaving circles of spit in his wake. He's not just giving your breasts some extra attention; he's smothering them in his saliva, marking them as his own.

And apparently this is something he intends to rectify immediately. With one hand still massaging your breast, the other lifts up the hem of your skirt, revealing your lacy underwear that you had worn just for the occasion. "Oh, baby," he coos at the sight. "Did you get all dolled up just for me?"

The realization alone is enough to send a shiver down your spine, but when he works his way back up to plant a kiss on the shell of your ear and call you his pretty girl, well. You can't help the desperate whine that escapes you. He pulls back to look down at you, lips red and puffy from overuse.

"That good, huh?" He says, voice cocky but expression still so gentle, still so him. "I haven't even touched you yet. I mean really touched you."

You nod, trying not to blush at his honeyed words. He's always loved to praise you in bed, to call you pretty and sweet and all manner of compliments, but the tone tonight is so different. It's not the kind affirmations of an attentive lover, it's the reading of your rights, the growl of a predator circling its prey. And maybe if it were someone else it would scare you, but with Reiner all it does is send a fierce heat straight to your core.

Gently, delicately, he hooks two fingers around the middle of your panties and brings them down, and he can't suppress his groan when he feels the slick that coats the inside. "You're so wet for me. How long have you been like this?"

You look away, embarrassed. "Since we left for our date. I've kind of been looking forward to this."

He chuckles at your confession as he slides your underwear the rest of the way down. "Well," he starts, stowing your panties away in the back pocket of his jeans. "I hope I can live up to your expectations."

You swallow hard, meeting his gaze. "You have so far."

"Good," he says firmly, pulling your legs apart farther with both hands. "Let's try to keep up that momentum."

Without another word, Reiner ducks down to the heat of your cunt, flattening his tongue and licking a thick stripe from your hole to your clit. You moan at the sensation, bring your hand to his head on instinct. But he isn't having that, and swats your hand away with a growl, the low rumble vibrating in all the right ways. He brings his head up, eyes dark and serious, the stain of your precum already wetting his beard.

"No, princess," he says it with stern authority, but makes it a point to bring his right hand to intertwine with yours. "I'm in charge."

He returns to eating you out with an animalistic hunger, working his tongue in between your folds while the sharp bridge of his nose keeps a constant pressure on your aching clit. One hand is still laced in yours while the other rubs small circles around your labia, running up your inner thigh and back down. Reiner is pleasuring you, make no mistake, but the moans that leave his body as he ravishes your insides with his wet muscle assure you that the feeling is mutual.

"Taste so good," you both hear and feel him say, the prickle of his facial hair equally ticklish and arousing. "Want you to cum on my face."

He brings his fingers out of his mouth slowly, with a wet pop, looking annoyed. "I'm sorry," he says sarcastically, leaning down so his head hovers above you. "I thought you wanted my spit, sweetheart. Are you sure yours will do?"

He pulls away after that, causing you to whine at the lost contact. How were you supposed to do what he asked under these conditions? But then you see him take three of his own fingers in his mouth, licking and sucking on them like they're heavensent.

"Reiiii," you whine out, missing his touch. "I can do that for you, c'mon. Lemme taste you, pleaseeeee."

You nod quickly, just wanting his familiar heat back, his taste, his touch, anything. And maybe Reiner's too soft on you, but he relents, sliding those same fingers in your mouth and letting you have your way with them. You take them in greedily, the taste of his skin and spit melding in your mouth deliciously. He should probably do something now, praise you for how good you take him or rub small circles on your clit, but all he can do is stare. At you, so blissed out on just the taste of him, eyes closed and enjoying every sensation. This must be love, he thinks.

Satisfied, you release his fingers from your mouth, pretend you don't notice his eyes boring into you. "Thank you," you breathe, moving his sopping fingers to the bud of your clit. "Please."

Since you asked so nicely, and also because he wants to, needs to touch you, he does as you ask, massaging that bundle of nerves in a way that makes you writhe. A wanton moan leaves your lips, a sound that he can't wait to snatch with his own mouth, kissing you deeply as his fingers dance in perfect rhythm. You can taste yourself in him, can feel the moistness of your own pre on the itch of his stubble. It's intoxicating. He's intoxicating.

Soon, you feel that same hand start to drift lower down, two fingers circling around your hole teasingly. You squirm under his delicate touch, a motion that causes him to break away from the haven of your mouth. He looks down at you, eyes dark and analytical, thinking. Maybe this is where he's supposed to punish you for being so bad, supposed to degrade and deride you for your naughty behavior, but he just can't bring himself to do it. Instead, he furrows his brows and ducks back down to your heat, licking around your entrance and peppering your thighs in tiny kisses. And just when you're about to beg for more, for him to just give you what you need please, he plunges two fingers and his tongue deep into you, working everything he has in tandem to bring you to an insurmountable high.

"Reiner," you breathe, a whispered plea to the man below you who is making you come undone with every thrust of his thick fingers, every pulse of his tongue. He's just so fucking good at this. "Reiner, I, fuck, so good."

He hums in approval, stares you down over the slope of your mound, looking hungry and desperate. "C'mon, pretty girl," he growls into you, the pace of his fingers increasing rapidly. "Cum for me baby."

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut as his tongue returns to your core, fingers curling and hitting the spot that makes you scream every time. He's finger fucking you at a breakneck pace, the wet schlick, schlick, schlick sound of his thrusts accompanied by the sloppy licks and sucks of his lips and tongue. The lewd noises are all you can hear, all you can focus on, and it sends you careening towards your release. You cry out, feeling yourself clench around his thick fingers, vision going white. He keeps fucking you through your orgasm, mouth glued to the lips of your heat, slurping and moaning as he swallows every last drop of your cum. Your head lolls back as you work through every sensation, lost in the depths of unadulterated pleasure.

When you finally get back down to earth, you're almost sent back into the stratosphere by the sight in front of you. Reiner, with his lips pursed, eyes wide and dark, chest heaving, gripping onto your knee with one hand as he undoes his belt with the other. His skin is beaded with sweat, his golden chest hair clumping and curling up in places where your cum has dried, his beard hair glinting with more of the same. He looks like a Greek god, honey eyes raking over you like you're his concubine, his sacrifice.

You sigh, taking him all in as he unbuttons his jeans and shrugs them off along with his boxers. His cock springs out like it's fucking hydraulic, slapping against the bare skin of his stomach and leaking precum onto his navel. It looks so damn needy, the tip so red its verging on purple, and you have to cover your mouth to stifle a moan just at thought of it being in you.

He looks down at you, mouth still closed, and it leaves you a little confused. Shouldn't he say something right about now, about how he can't wait to fuck you stupid, can't wait to feel you cumming around him? It's only when he leans over you, lining up at your entrance, and spits your own slick onto your stomach that you realize why. "Oh, fuck, Reiner," you groan out, completely involuntarily. He smirks at the exclamation, rubs a hand over the wet spot, covering you further in his spit and your cum.

"You like this?" he asks, already knowing the answer. "You like being smothered in my spit? Like being marked? Like, ugh, knowing who you belong to?" He slides into you slow as he speaks, still gripping one of your knees to keep himself from falling apart, from just letting himself go and pistoning into you with reckless abandon.

"Yes, fuck, God, yes, I do," you reply, hoping it'll motivate him to keep this going. It's so rare for him to talk to you like this, so possessive and so filthy, it never fails to drive you wild. You claw your hands into the sheets as you take every thick inch of his shaft, ecstatic at the feeling of him bottoming out, tip already brushing against your cervix. "Feels s' good Rei."

"Good, good," he drawls, trying to respond but overcome by the waves of pleasure starting to thrum around him. He leans down, rests his head into the crook of your neck and starts rocking into you slow and steady, suckling at your neck gently. "You feel good too baby. Can't believe this pussy is, mm, all mine. Can't believe you're all mine."

His eyes go wide and he smiles, pure and genuine. "Oh, thank God," he sighs, sitting up and immediately pulling your legs up to his ears for better access. "I figured I should wait for you to beg but I need you so bad honey you have no idea."

He keeps this pace for a while, gives you space to breathe between every determined thrust, holding your head in his hand while he gives you a hickey that will be impossible to cover up. His stomach slides against yours as he pushes into you, causing the spit and slick to crust and dry, a reminder with each movement of the way he's marked you. And it's unbearably hot, practically a fantasy come true, but you need more.

"Reiner," you murmur, waiting for him to retreat from the comfort of your neck to look you in the eye. "Fuck me? Please?"

He absolutely fucks into you after that, setting a punishing pace that has you seeing stars. He uses one hand to hold up one of your legs, the other pushed into the mattress beside your head, taking every bit of leverage he can to fuck you as hard and as deep as possible. The whole bed groans and creaks under the pressure of his thrusts, and you sympathize with moans and cries of your own. You reach a hand out to Reiner, hoping to ground yourself with his touch, but he shakes his head, opting instead to push your knees up and thrust into you even deeper than before.

"Look at you," he huffs out, every word punctuated by another jab of his cock. "All fucked out for me. You really are all mine, aren't you?"

Finally grabbing onto his arm, you whine and bob your head, already knowing what he's going to ask. "Go ahead," you rasp out, trying to keep it together. "Cum in me, Reiner."

You nod, tears prickling at your eyes from the rampant pleasure washing over you. You don't trust yourself to speak right now, you know all that will come out are broken cries and pleas for him to keep going. Instead you watch him with hungry eyes, rapt attention all on him as his thrusts become sloppy and messy, his own golden eyes struggling to stay focused.

"I-" he swallows, trying to keep composed through it all. "I've made you mine, marked you every way I can. Except one."

He doesn't need to be told twice. He presses into you hard and fast, chasing his high with cries of your name, a sound so filled with need it sends you tumbling towards your own release. You feel his white hot seed shoot into you in spurts, every rope of his cum a sign of his possession of you, inside and out. It's ecstasy.

Eventually, his hips still, and he looks to you, mouth open and eyes wide. "Was, uh," he breathes out, trying to collect himself. "Was that what you were thinking of? Did I do okay?"

He smiles, brings your other hands to his lips and catches your knuckles in a chaste kiss. "I think," he pauses, trying to find the right words. "I liked it too."

You laugh despite yourself, because of course it was okay, it was way better than okay. You bring him close to you, both of you soft and pliable after the workout, and he quickly gets comfortable with his head on your chest.

"That was amazing, sweetheart." you say, kissing the top of his head, fingers playing in the loose strands stuck to his forehead. "Thank you so much."

You snort, a little derisive. "You came a lot for someone who only 'thinks' they liked it."

Reiner blushes, buries his face in-between your breasts. "Okay," he says, muffled. "I liked it a lot."

He beams at you, absolutely fucking radiant, like you hung the moon and the stars, then scoots up to kiss you once on the lips, deeply. "I love you, Y/N."

You smile wide, feel it stretching the corners of your cheeks. How dare he cum in you like a dog in heat and then immediately act like the cutest dopiest baby in the world.

"Hey," you mutter, blushing at the way he looks up at you. "I bought you more peanuts."

"I love you too, Reiner."

[in-need-of-gally-content]

|Chapter•Twenty|

•|Masterlist|•

Gally watched (M/n) as he paced back and forth near the swing, his hands closing tightly every now and again, heavy breaths leaving through his nose, huffing and scowling. He was mad, that much was obvious, and Gally could see how he was shaking as well, not entirely sure why, but he could guess.

"I need... To punch something..." (M/n) muttered, his teeth gritted and knuckles white. Gally could relate to his anger, he himself was still trying to handle his anger issues, and (M/n) only seemed to make them worse, yet better at the same time.

So he thought maybe he could help the (h/c) haired male out, help him calm down like all the times (M/n) had calmed him down, even if Gally knew that (M/n) had no knowledge of what he managed to accomplish within him.

"You can punch me, if you want," he randomly said, as if it wasn't anything serious, like a passing comment. Gally saw how (M/n) slowly came to a halt and turned to look at him, his scowl softening and hands relaxing.

"No, I could never hurt you, Gally," the blond chuckled at that, slightly flustered at the soft and gentle tone in (M/n)'s voice.

He pushed himself away from the tree he had been leaning against and took a few steps toward the swing, sitting on it, his back to the Glade as he faced (M/n), his feet barely pushing himself back and forth, "Well then... Anything I could do to help?" He decided to ask him instead of throwing ideas (M/n)'s way.

Gally saw him scowling again, albeit he wasn't angry this time around, and he walked toward him, holding onto the rope of the swing, just pacing around Gally as he remained sitting in silence, simply watching him.

(M/n) took slow steps for a few minutes, until he stopped behind Gally, "I don't know..." He said, lost in his thoughts for a few seconds, his sight landing on Gally's blond hair.

His hands moved toward his neck, gently and subtly gracing his skin with his fingertips, absentmindedly.

But his action caused a funny reaction out of Gally. He squealed, flinched and snorted within a margin of two seconds, moving away from (M/n)'s hands, who looked at him baffled by all of this.

"Don't do that," Gally mumbled between soft laughs and realization sparked inside (M/n)'s mind.

Gally's ticklish!

He will be having lots of fun with that new information.

With a mischievous smirk, (M/n) raised his hands and Gally looked at him, feeling confused for a few moments before he slowly started getting up from the swing.

"No... (M/n) do not-" but he didn't really care. With his smirk turning into a full smile, he snickered and reached forward, tickling Gally everywhere he could reach, and immediately after, despite trying to hold back his giggles, Gally's loud and cheerful laugh echoed in the Glade, making (M/n) cackle in response.

Gally tried to break free from his tickle torture, but failed and fell to the ground, squirming around as tears began gathering in his eyes, his face red from laughing so much and his tummy hurting.

Slightly far away from them, standing by his hammock, stood Lucas, observing (M/n) and Gally as they played around like kids. Stan came up to him, and watched them in silence as well.

And soon, all the Sloppers were watching the scene, some with dislike and disgust, while others felt indifferent but slightly annoyed. They didn't like the idea or knowledge of either (M/n) or Gally feeling and being happy.

Especially when the realization clicked in their heads.

They were in love with each other. And they could not let that progress any further, they had to do something about it, and it would take them as long as it needed to take.

//////

After having fun tickling Gally, they went back to work, or more like Gally did because (M/n) would simply watch from the side and help whenever they needed something from him, which didn't occur often, so that left him bored and with nothing to do.

Unfortunately, not having anything to direct his attention to, made him hyper-aware of Lucas' glare on him. He had been doing that ever since the little incident that happened. Whenever (M/n) looked, he stood there, clenched jaw and flared nostrils as he stared at him, a heavy stare he couldn't ignore.

It made him feel on edge and uneasy at how mad Lucas looked, and how crazy he was, completely out of his mind.

It didn't help the situation that Lucas would receive glances from others as well, those who had witnessed his rejection. Some felt sorry for him, saying that he at least tried to get with (M/n), while a few others would walk past him, "quietly and subtlety" making fun of him for liking someone as weird as the she-bean, someone as messed up as her and comment other stuff like that.

Nothing helped ease Lucas' sour mood, and (M/n) doubted anything would, awkwardly shifting in place and looking away. Although at least he had completely stopped flirting, and (M/n) wished it would stay that way, he didn't care if Lucas hated him now or not, he simply wanted some peace for once.

A goal that seemed way too hard to accomplish whilst living in the Glade.

But at least, he had a big guy that would always be there for him if he ever needed it. (M/n) couldn't help himself from staring at Gally and smiling, a deep sigh leaving his body without him meaning to.

As long as he had Gally by his side, he knew he could overcome any obstacle sent his way, just knowing he'd be there was enough.

//////

A new day in the Glade, and another day where Gally made him rest after doing some work. For once (M/n) decided to not cause Gally more stress than what was necessary, and for now, he found himself slightly swinging back and forth on the swing while humming a song, observing around the Glade, taking deep breaths and relaxing as he leaned his side against the rope. Until he heard the footsteps of someone stopping next to him.

He looked to his side and squinted slightly, realizing Billy was just silently standing nearby, resting on a tree. (M/n) stared at him for a few seconds, but the Keeper didn't utter a single word, so he decided to just vibe and ignore Billy for a while.

The silence was nice and chill, although it seemed like Billy finally managed to talk after having some kind of internal argument, one of which (M/n) had no idea was occurring.

"How are you, (M/n)? Like... Are you okay?" He blinked a few times and turned to look at Billy, who was trying to make the least amount of eye contact.

It was weird, (M/n) didn't think he'd get used to having Billy as a friend now, but he was actually kinda cool and sweet, although a little unhinged at times. And he found himself wanting to talk to Billy more.

"I'm good, thanks for asking," he answered with a small smile, "And you? Have Tim and Jackson been a pain in your ass lately?" His playful question made the Keeper look at him, chuckling as he got closer, sitting on the ground next to the swing.

"Yeah, but nothing out of the ordinary."

And soon, they found themselves enjoying a nice chat, which neither of them minded, surprisingly for (M/n), and Gally, who couldn't help but watch over him even while busy working. Gally had been skeptical about Billy getting too friendly with (M/n), but he understood that he had no right to tell (M/n) who he should and shouldn't talk to, and that he could be friends with whoever he wanted.

Billy hasn't done anything to make (M/n) mad or upset -not recently anyway-, so for now, he was cool in Gally's book.

///////

Later in the afternoon, (M/n) -who had gotten bored of just sitting and doing nothing- went into the Deadheads, keeping an eye out for any foreign movements and his hearing open in case of something weird making a sound.

Even while he crouched by the little river in the middle of the woods and played with some cool and pretty rocks, he paid attention to his surroundings.

He had been having fun all by himself, deciding to keep a few rocks that were just too pretty to leave them there, and using others to try and learn how to skip rocks. Whether he was managing or not was a different topic.

Unfortunately, his entertainment was ruined when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, the sound of footsteps reaching his ears, and slowly, he stood up, gripping a rock tightly in his hand.

He came eye to eye with Lucas, who had a frown on his face and wore a smirk, "Has your brain gone back to normal or do you need another beating?"

(M/n) could handle him if it got to that fighting point, but behind him, three more guys began making their presence known. Gale, Matt and Zachary stood there behind Lucas, and he could almost feel how the bile began rising in his esophagus, but he still tried to remain calm, maybe he couldn't take the four of them down at once, but he could take two and run if needed.

He took a deep breath yet tried to not make obvious how anxious this situation made him feel, and he managed to glare at Lucas, sensing something akin to exasperation flow through his body.

"Maybe you should be the one to get beaten up until you understand that I don't like you, greenie, I never will," (M/n) watched how Lucas' smirk grew wider and soon, a chuckle could be heard from him, albeit it lacked humour or joy.

"Yeah, you like... Gally, doll, how tasteless," he said mockingly, and (M/n) felt fear settling in his gut at the thought of them doing anything to harm Gally in any way, but he didn't let that show on his face.

"And where did you get that idea from?" He tried to sound sure of himself, as if to make Lucas seem like a fool for believing such a thing. (M/n)'s arms crossed over his chest as a way to hide the shaking of his hands, and he watched with a scowl how Lucas took a step forward.

"I saw it with my own eyes, doll, you can't fool me," while he talked, Lucas kept walking closer to him, and he tried not to shift or back away, "I'm smarter than that, I won't believe your little tactics."

(M/n) clenched his jaw, glaring straight into Lucas' eyes, however, he didn't have a chance to respond back, able to hear the sound of footsteps coming up from behind the Sloppers, and they heard them too. The three dudes behind Lucas cursed and scurried away

But Lucas didn't, he stepped forward one more time, his hand going up to hold (M/n)'s face with a tight grip, his warm breath uncomfortably close.

"Just know I'm not done with you, doll, if I can't have you..." the smirk on his face had been completely wiped away, leaving an empty expression, void of all emotions that caused a cold shiver to run down (M/n)'s spine. Lucas leaned closer, his lips gracing his ear, "No one can."

And just like that, he backed away and left.

(M/n) released a shaky sigh, a sudden image showing in his mind made his skin crawl, and he struggled to get rid of it, to ignore it. He could feel his breath quickening and his limbs going numb, black spots began to cloud his vision.

He closed his eyes tightly and tilted his head down, forcing himself to forget what Lucas said, to remember that nothing had happened and that he would be able to handle it, but Gally...

"Oh, hey, (M/n)!" He looked up at the sound of his name being called, and there stood Winston and Frankie, smiling at him.

He felt relieved at seeing a familiar and friendly face and he sighed, smiling back at them, "Hey, guys, what are you doing here?"

The abrupt sharp pain he felt on his palm, made him hold his breath in, and slowly he opened his hand, realizing the rock he had been unknowingly gripping had dug into his skin and left behind a couple of scratches, a few drops of blood showing up now that he had released the pressure that prevented the red liquid from coming out.

"We were just looking around for a place with enough mud, you know, for the pigs and hogs to cool down," he glanced up at their response and hummed, nodding as he glanced behind him, he had come across a puddle that wasn't deep so maybe that could work.

"In that case, come with me, I found a good spot," (M/n) turned around and began making his way deeper into the Deadheads, hearing Winston and Frankie following him.

It didn't take them long to arrive, and Winston crouched, touching the mud and feeling its consistency. (M/n) wasn't sure why he was doing that, but he let Winston be Winston.

"Well, I've gotta go, have fun with the mud!" He announced while beginning his way back to the Homestead.

He came across the Sloppers as they hung the washed laundry, and he made an effort to pretend they weren't there before heading inside and to the med room, where he found Jeff writing stuff on his journal, and he remembered Box day was coming.

"Oh, hi there, greenbean," Fry wasn't the only one who continued calling him 'greenbean' and he didn't mind it, it was rather cute at times.

"Hey, Jeff, how are you doing?" He asked while placing his rock down and searching for some disinfectant for his wound.

"Uh, I'm alright, I guess, just a little bored..." He looked toward (M/n) and noticed the blood on his palm, "Oh, let me help you with that," he rushed to put his stuff down and grab what he needed to bandage (M/n)'s hand.

"It's okay, I can do it myself-"

Jeff held away the disinfectant and the bandages, far from (M/n)'s grip, making him huff as he made his way to sit on the couch, extending his hand at Jeff, who smiled and proceeded to treat the cuts on his palm.

Since the area had gone numb, (M/n) didn't feel a thing, but he watched attentively how Jeff cleaned his wound and wrapped it with the bandages, securing it with some tape. With a small 'thank you' he walked back outside and sighed, slowly making his way back to the Builders, fidgeting with his rock while he did so.

He couldn't stop thinking about what Lucas had said, making him overthink and worry, hyperaware of everyone's movements and noises, his brain set on high alert.

(M/n) just hoped this whole thing would blow off soon enough, and that Lucas would forget about him eventually.

But perhaps that sounded more like a miracle for him at the moment.

"(M/n), I was beginning to wonder where you were-," Gally came up to him when he had reached the Builders, making him flinch as he wasn't expecting an approach from anyone just yet.

Gally noticed (M/n)'s reaction, and he frowned, soon noticing the bandage around his (left/right) hand, and he worried.

"Are you okay? What happened to your hand?" (M/n) blinked a few times, before glancing at his hand and dismissing the matter with a small smile.

"I just cut myself playing with this little rock, I'm fine, big guy."

Physically yes, he was alright, but he felt like his mind would collapse at any given point.

[decaydanceredacted]

sorry i just came to this fantasy so i might be extremely incoherent and rambly. cw omorashi and mutual desperation.

i wanna dom pete so badly and have us both need to pee at the start of the scene. i’m a sucker for outfit details so i’m imagining him in a tight white shirt with a long sleeve mesh shirt underneath, TIGHT light blue skinny jeans, and most importantly, satin underwear that can’t absorb anything at all. i’m imagining myself wearing a cute leather get up with a micro skirt, also very unabsorbant. he’s on his knees, hands behind his back, not allowed to touch himself and squirming desperately, partially because he’s too hard to function and partially because he’s fighting a losing battle against his bladder, the waistband of his pants pushing into his rock hard bladder and knowing that if he leaks, it'll show up on his pants almost immediately. i’m making a show of holding myself and whining how badly i need to pee, mostly to mock him not being able to touch himself but also because i’m on the verge of bursting too. he’s not allowed to piss himself until i do, so this is torture for him, but at least all the blood in his body is being directed towards his dick, making it marginally easier to hold. i start grinding against the edge of the bed he’s kneeling on, getting off on seeing him squirm and try not to whine with how close he is to bursting. he freezes and squeezes his eyes shut as a strong wave of desperation hits him like a freight train, and i tsk at him, telling him he needs to watch me so he doesn’t relieve himself too early. he reluctantly opens his eyes, tears just barely starting to form, but his cock is straining against that zipper, aching to be touched, either to help hold back piss or release cum. i teasingly let out a leak, but my bladder betrays me, and within a second i’m full force pissing against the bed post. i play it off like i meant to do that, moaning in only slightly exaggerated relief as it pours down the side, still dry humping the post the whole way through. he watches me, still being such a good boy, waiting until i’m fully empty before his own bladder finally forces a leak out. i’ve cum from just grinding the bed post, and i’m a little hazy, but i see the leak, a small wet spot on those impossibly tight jeans, the light color giving him no other excuse to what it could be. i crawl onto the bed behind him, trailing my finger down his neck, feather light, and he squirms even more now, finally breaking and begging me to let him piss himself. i giggle and tell him that he already seemed to be in the process of it, and since he was such a good boy waiting until i finished, he can pee too. a moan is ripped out of his throat as he finally gives into the urge and he pisses himself, light jeans rapidly darkening, rock hard bladder bulge softening and shrinking in size, the loud hissing as the completely clear piss soaks both legs of his jeans and the bed underneath him. he’s thanking me so profusely between moans of relief, thanking me for finally letting him go. i just giggle a bit, playing with his nipples through his shirt as he’s finally finishing, a good thirty seconds later. i joke that he really was holding for me all day, and he just thanks me for letting him go before his body decided for him. i get back in front of him, and i dry hump (wet hump?) him to a breathless orgasm, ruining the piss soaked pants even further with cum. he collapses into me, nails digging into me, trying to find some traction as he twitches through an orgasm, his body already spent from holding in all that piss for me all day. after i make sure he’s okay, he reassures me that he was so into it, he could barely think with how turned on he was. i tell him to change the sheets and clean himself up once i do, and once we make sure everything is clean, we have cuddly make outs where he fingers me to another, softer orgasm and i jerk him off slowly and lazily until he cums with barely a whine. we both drift off to sleep afterwards.

holy shit i am SO sorry for the short novella i wrote jesus.

.

[gayoxygen]

Sweeter than sweet ch. ? Idk

Grayson walks up to your side and takes a firm hold of your forearm.  

“Come walk with me,” he says quietly, a command rather than a request.  Even if it had been a suggestion you couldn’t refuse it anyway, because when Grayson briskly walks away he’s pulling you roughly with him.  Your brain won’t work fast enough to think of any legitimate reason why you could call out to the others to stop him from taking you, so you end up being led from the dining room and into the living room with nary a word, suddenly so nervous that you think you might be sick.  

By the time he takes you out into the entrance hall you start pulling back, unwilling to be led any further from the safety of the group without a fight – even if it’s a pointless one.  He lets you go with a barely-there smirk, coming to a standstill at the bottom of the staircase.  

“What do you want, Grayson?” you ask, trying to act feistier than you feel.  In reality you know that your hands would be shaking if your arms weren’t already crossed.  Why does he have to be taller than you?

“Just to talk,” he smiles, shrugging his shoulders, his hands hidden in the pockets of his black slacks. “I feel like you’ve been avoiding me.”  

“I wonder why,” you retort before you can help yourself, complete with eye roll.  Grayson's eyes narrow marginally, looking you up and down as you struggle to keep your breathing even and maintain his eye contact.  He folds his arms like you are, shifting his weight from one foot to another.  

“There’s something different about you,” he observes shrewdly.  He steps closer and the urge to back off is almost overwhelming but you still manage to stand your ground, even when he towers menacingly over you.  A beat passes before a sly smile starts to twist his mouth, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “I know,” he chuckles, “Jamie fucked you, didn’t he?”  You don’t mean to, but as soon as he says it you end up gasping, your arms dropping to your sides.  It’s enough of a reaction for him to know that he was right and he laughs again.  “You always have that afterglow after we have our way with you. When did he do it?”  

“That's none of your business,” you answer breathily, your cheeks heating up.

 Grayson’s eyes narrow as the corner of his mouth teases the impression of a smirk.

“Was it after we touched you?” he asks, stepping closer again.  This time you can’t help but step back, your eyes dropping to the floor as your face burns.  You hate that he’s right, and you hate that he knows it.  “You should’ve just come to me if you needed it that badly, flower.”  Grayson reaches out and grabs onto the material at the front of your dress and uses it to yank you to him, your chest flush with his.  “I would've happily fucked you just the way you like it.”  

“I-I don’t-" Grayson runs a slender finger along the line of your jaw as your heart races in your chest, unable to speak properly whilst you’re caught in the strength of his gaze.  He tilts his head to the side.

“What about Michael?  Has he fucked you too?”  The way he says it makes it sound so sinful, and even though you’re fighting against it you can feel yourself becoming aroused, the fire in your stomach growing as Grayson's fingers wander down your neck.  “I know something’s going on there.  If he hasn't had you yet, he will soon.”  You swallow hard, Grayson's other arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close. Nothing in his demeanor betrays even the slightest hint of jealousy when he says that, and yet, you know that he hates the idea of you and Michael more than anything. How is it that everything he makes you feel is so intense, whether it be terror or lust, he always has your head spinning every time he’s around.  

“I can see why they all want you,” he tells you softly, leaning down so that his face is only a foot away from yours, “You are just the sweetest thing to destroy.”  He licks his lips hungrily, looking down at yours, and you recognise the gesture well enough now to panic an appropriate amount when you see it.

“Don’t,” you plead, your voice sounding pathetically weak even to you.  How are you supposed to sound to convincing when you have arousal pooling hot and slick between your legs, even as you’re trying to deny him.  Grayson hasn’t really talked to you since that night. You know he liked you a lot, does he still do ? If so, you really shouldn’t—

“Why not?” Grayson lifts an eyebrow, the hand that was resting on your waist starting to slide downward, ghosting over the curve of your behind.  He pushes his hips forward, pressing his heavy erection into your stomach to make you gasp again.  He feels as huge as you remember.

You close your eyes, trying to force the image out of your mind, your breathing rapid and shallow.  

“I know you're a little slut,” he whispers, bringing his mouth directly to your ear so that the words tickle and make you shudder, “I can see how wet and aroused you are.”  You bite the inside of your mouth, clenching your jaw so hard that you start to taste blood, refusing to open your eyes.  You know if you do you’ll be done for.  “And everyone else will be able to see it too, but I bet you like that, don’t you?”  Grayson bites the curve of your ear, the hand that had been hovering by your behind now making contact and squeezing hard, pushing you into him.  

Why can’t you make yourself move away?  Why does it feel like all these degrading things he’s saying about you are true?  You’re burning up from the inside out, sick and excited all at once.  What the hell is wrong with you?  

Grayson unceremoniously yanks up your dress so it bunches around your waist, standing in the middle of the entrance hall with your panties exposed for all to see while he sloppily kisses your neck.  Both of his hands come to rest on your buttocks again, one of them soon starting to snake downward toward the apex of your thighs from behind.  

“They’ll be able to see my cum all over you too,” he growls, pulling your panties to the side and sliding a finger through your wet folds, skirting past your pussy and brushing against your asshole too.  Your eyes open wide as you gasp, your body bucking against him, and when you look up at him you see the way his whole face is contorted with lust, a dark and dangerous smile playing on those gorgeous lips.  “That’s right,” he coos, slipping a finger through your heat, “Be a good girl and open up for daddy.”  

You hear noises coming from the living room.  The boys have obviously abandoned their game and dispersed, which means that any one of them may very well come walking out here any second.

You shove him away from you, surprised when he actually moves but knowing that the only reason he has done is that he’s allowed it.  If he'd have wanted to carry on you wouldn’t have had a choice; he’s stronger than you. You refuse to think about how that turns you on.

As you scramble to pull down your dress Grayson simply smirks, the outline of his cock obscenely obvious inside his slacks, and then slides the finger that had been touching you past his lips to suck it clean.  You stare back at him, panting, hot in the face and barely believing what’s just happened.  What you let him do.  

“Don’t worry,” he tells you huskily, “I won’t tell Michael.”

Does he think that you and Michael are… talking ? Flirting ?

You see him give you a dry smirk, just before you turn on your heels and half-walk, half-run away from him again, straight into the nearest bathroom.  Your hands shake as you lock the door behind you, knees starting to wobble as your adrenaline fades.  As soon you make it to the sink you’re splashing water on your face, trying to avoid looking at the girl in the mirror.  You’re too ashamed to look at yourself right now.

[freshairforrabbits]

"an open letter to a girl named sunshine"

dear So-and-So,

you were warm sunshine (don't worry this is important for later, it always is--)

and i hope your baby learns this, too.

i hope you don't remember me. don't worry, i already know the answer, a friend, a real one, told me four years ago that you don't remember that morning the way i do, that you don't remember me the way i'm haunted by you in every person who wears their hair too blonde and their eyes too blue.

you were warm sunshine, and i hope your baby never learns what that means beyond your softest touch, your gentlest grin, that you don't teach her that stars burn when you stand too close to them. of the rough red shock of a slap to the face, of a punch to the teeth, the way ears ring and bared teeth can bleed; hot, oozing cosmos around a laugh. a grin. it was a game (i tell myself, knowing that it never was, only trying to level the playing field.)

if i were to tell someone you hit me every other day towards the end, i don't think they would believe me, (sunshine doesn't sting after only a few minutes, unless you're like me, unless you have lupus, then every ray's kiss is a swing i try to run from and never manage to do more than loop back around with an apology; i'm sorry, i'm sorry, it must've been me.) you were frail, small, tiny, the same age but a waifish sort of girl with a button nose and braces. if anyone was going to do the hitting it was supposed to be me; that's how your baby will see it-- that's how your mother did (sometimes i wonder if you learned it from her, only it doesn't matter, because i learned the blaze of stars from my own mother before i was even out of diapers and yet i never hit you back, not ever, not when it would choke me more than the throttle of your fingers around my neck. i deserved it, as silly as that was, as childish as that is, because people who look like me aren't the ones who get hurt. that's what the movies said, the ones we watched together.)

i was stung on the foot by a bee once, one of the days you weren't in class. i was an idiot, you knew that, when i'd rush to english from gym without my shoes on, not that there was anything to rush to-- maybe to get away from you, maybe to get to you sooner.

(37 missed calls, that's how many times you blew up my cell the first time i got sick and didn't tell you, when i didn't show up to the cafeteria that morning at our usual spot. you rang the home phone, it screamed, i answered it shaking-- i still don't know why i kept answering.)

you got mad when i didn't call you every time you were sick at home and I was stuck at school without you. sickness was normal for me, i knew you'd be back the next day, maybe the day after that. sick kids get better (well, they're supposed to. i don't think my body ever got the memo) and it didn't bother me-- only it really fucking did. i was relieved, i didn't know the feeling yet, the weight that you'd slung on my shoulders shaped like bruises that never lasted long enough. brushed aside like the 'help me' i scrawled on the margins of a history test back in eighth grade and you were sitting in the seat two spots in front of me.

you died December 12, 2012 at 8:03am. you were resurrected four years later, found on a social media website with poems about the people you loved, about how you moved schools, about everything that you found up there two hundred miles away-- books, boys, and your favorite movies (who knew we'd grow to have similar tastes? who knew i wouldn't be able to hear the songs you loved without gagging, throwing my fists up to guard my face?)

before that, before they found you alive, i left flowers in a pond for you every year on the same day. you were dead, and it was my fault, and i bargained with every god that ever split my tongue; every heavy hand that laid waste to me just like you did, because it was always the same. i kept your notes, your presents (they call it love bombing, y'know? you weren't special coming up with that one, but i lapped it up every time anyway.)

after you killed yourself in my mind, and lived on in your own, i found another girl who would hit me, right after winter break actually. can you believe it? how easy that was, how she pointed to the scars on my legs, asked if my daddy hurt me, and then she threw her head back and laughed and laughed, her teeth a perfect row of glittering white. i laughed back, what else do you say to someone who's backlit by the florescents like some kind of deity? the way i got goosebumps was something religious-- and she was perfect, she wasn't sunshine, no, not like you. she burned like a star being swallowed by a blackhole, merciless and hungry.

when she hit me she never went for the face. i liked that. she curled her fists more than you did. i liked that even more.

we sat on top of the wall behind her condo and i stared at the street with the cars full of tourists that idled past. i thought about how you and i never did any of that, sitting side by side drinking something fizzy out of a bottle, but we talked about our lives as if we would (or maybe that was me, leash to a dog, convinced you were pulling me anywhere but the next biting hand.)

i wondered if she would care if i jumped, if you would, and of course the answer is yes. you would have both grabbed me by the back of the neck and thrown me into the wall before i made it five steps. i would've thanked you for it, as the stucco cut my cheeks and my palms, i would have thanked you for saving my life (because that's what you called it. what you wrote in your letters, and i guess you were right. i was a danger to myself; what better way to help me than to teach me how little i understand about my own reality.)

she wrote a letter, too. confessing she loved me, one that never sent, not like the ones you pressed into my skin with your painted nails.

(you know Pavlov, the guy with the dogs? your smile was the bell, your laugh the treat, even if it was cruel, even at my expense. i was a damn good dog and you knew that, knew i'd been raised to be the best lap bitch. it was something in my eyes and something in you staring back at me.)

i try not to think about the wine thing, the emails. i still read them sometimes, trying to put together the pieces of a night i don't remember, but she said i was drunk even though i told her i don't like the taste of alcohol. too sharp, too tempting, i was always afraid it would turn me into some sort of beast-- but you did that on your own, curling in my lap and forcing me to run my fingers through your hair like the cage of your hands around my wrists wouldn't make me almost scream. like you didn't smell rotten sweet and didn't have blue eyes like she did.

she was worse than you, maybe objectively, maybe because it was easy to hate her more for being nothing like you.

(you had to die for me to get away; i didn't escape her, not completely. it took her punching me in the face, out by the stadium, half-light, my fault for saying the right thing too late-- in front of everyone, that's what it took for something in my brain to rattle out of place. for me to disappear and for something else to snatch my body. 'you're not the same person' she said to that imposter as if it would convince anyone of anything. as if what she really meant was 'you're no fun' and i was a corpse walking.)

i think this is the part where i forgive you, or maybe i ask you to apologize for using me in a long series of backs you climbed like ladders, to get where you are. with a house, a family, a husband, a baby, that parking ticket you still need to pay, the career you always wanted and would tell me all about; writing-- you're a writer, a librarian, and i hope i show up in your stories as stupid as that is.

because maybe I'm still that stupid kid.

maybe I'm a monster, like what your mother said, your grandfather, the counselor, that I was the reason you did it all, faggotdyke corruptor, they didn't know about the dozens of days of school i missed because you made me so sick the illness turned real. sometimes, i think they were right, how could you have been wrong, a girl like you? no one expects you to do evil.

i just hope you don't hit your husband, that you learned to take back the words your father never gave you and the ones your mother snatched off your tongue. i hope you don't hit your baby girl either, that she grows up to mirror the parts of you that were kind, that gave a shit, that cried the last time you punched me (it was by the lockers, blood red, in front of everyone, a lot like her actually. maybe you two would have gotten along.)

i hope she loves you, and he loves you, and that nothing goes wrong.

and i hope you know you were warm sunshine despite everything, that you left burns on my body so bad my skin peeled for a decade, melanoma that had to be carved out, that until two years ago i didn't go out in the sun because it reminded me of you.

and I hope you know that i loved you, even if it was the way dogs do;

i know better now, I'm getting better, and I hope you're better, too.

[ragingbookdragon]

My Brother's Best Friend Is The One For Me

Wally West x Batsis!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Got to rereading my Batsis fics and came across the "What A Flashy Romance" and wanted to do another one with Wally because I love him. Enjoy! -Thorne

Being the middle child and also the only girl in the Batfamily meant two things:

1. She had four brothers that treated her like a porcelain doll, despite the fact that she could throw a punch at 336 PSI.

And

2. She followed an unspoken rule that Dick and Jason’s friends were off limits when it came to dating.

In all, neither of those things were major problems. She’d learned at a young age how to avoid Dick and Jason’s overbearing-protective-brother-modes, and Tim and Damian were younger, so she didn’t have to worry about them. The second one was also avoidable—most of her older brothers’ friends were the same, and she wasn’t around most of them to develop any feelings.

Well, there was Wally, but it was just a crush. A stupid, little school-girl crush—that she’d never really grown out of—that didn’t matter in the slightest. Except whenever Dick brought him over to the house and she had to pretend that sitting next to him didn’t make her heart race like she’d run a mile.

And the most annoying thing about the whole crush is that she couldn’t tell if Wally was ever interested in her or not. Most of Dick’s friends, Garth, Kyle, Roy, they treated her like a little sister—hell, they even said “Love you lil sis!” to her regularly. And yet, Wally didn’t. Now, there was the occasional head pat, but even that was an affectionate gesture that siblings and SO’s did all the time. It was infuriating, and so was Wally—but she was going to sort it all out the next time he came over because the worst thing he could say was “No”, and either she needed to hear that…or “Yes”.

***

Normal Sundays for the Wayne household usually meant Ultimate Waffle Breakfast and sitting on your ass all day until patrol—it was the one day of the week where they could do anything and nothing and didn’t have to stick to schedules. Everyone loved Sundays, especially (Y/N), because it meant that all of her family was home, even Jason (who tried to deny that he enjoyed coming home to hang out, but if that mile long grin was any help, he was lying). And while everyone was home, that usually meant that everybody’s friends were coming over too.

***

She swiped the syrup out of Jason’s hand when he swung it back around, grinning at him when he glared at her.

“I was gonna use that, (Y/N),” he griped, and she shrugged, uncapping the bottle.

She tipped it over and watched the syrup lazily pour out of the container onto her waffles.

“You were taking too long.” Her eyes twinkled with humor. “I guess you were as…slow as molasses.”

While most of the table groaned at her terrible joke, Dick snorted into his milk, causing it to splatter on his plate and across the table.

“Nice one,” he coughed, wiping his face and the dark oak surface.

(Y/N) bowed dramatically. “Well, I did learn from the best.” When Dick’s face lit up, she turned to Alfred and smiled. “Alfie, thank you for teaching me your ways.”

The old butler merely tipped his head, a hidden smile crossing his lips at the way the eldest son’s jaw went slack. She turned her attention to Bruce who was quietly chewing, eyes following along the research paper she’d asked him to check out.

“Dad, what’s on your agenda for today?”

He swallowed and flicked a line out with a red pen, etching his own comment in the margin. “Lucius has a few ideas about some new gadgets he wanted to run by me.” Another line went out. “I’ll call him after breakfast.” Bruce looked at her. “You?”

(Y/N) nodded at the paper in his hands, then slapped Jason’s who was reaching over to take a piece of bacon from her plate. “Waiting for you to finish tearing me a new one so I can redo the paper.” She cut into the waffle with the side of her fork. “Once I salvage what little scientific dignity you’ve left me with, I’ll probably laze around.”

“You mean what you do normally?” Bruce quipped, grinning when she glowered at him; his eyes went back to her paper. “You’re doing well so far.”

She huffed. “Tell that to every red line you’ve marked out in that paragraph.”

He flashed the paper. “I’m writing in the margins how to change it. This isn’t a dissertation, sweetheart. You’re allowed to make mistakes. We all do.”

(Y/N) grumbled as her cheeks warmed and she went back to her plate as the conversation flowed around her.

Most of it was the discussion of what everyone was planning on doing, Damian was going to play video games, Tim was going to join him (which she knew was going to be fun while the moment lasted until the petty sibling rivalry got in the way and their gaming dwindled into a physical fight that she and probably Dick were going to have to break up), Jason was going to use the workbench in the cave to upgrade some gear, and Dick apparently,

“Wally and Garth are gonna come over later and hang out.”

She paused, mid-stab of her fork and looked at up. “Wally’s coming over?”

He nodded. “And Garth. We were gonna go to the mall and get some new clothes.”

Jason snorted, laying an arm over the backs of Tim and (Y/N)’s chairs. “Spending money with daddy’s credit card, Dickie?”

Dick smirked. “Just like you.” Jason merely matched his grin, and while the entire table was cracking up at Bruce’s frown, (Y/N) was silent, heart beating faster at the thought of seeing Wally.

“(Y/N)?” She startled and looked up at Dick.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were okay. You got quiet all of the sudden.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Yeah, just thought about all of the corrections I’m gonna have to do because somebody CAN’T STOP MARKING OUT MY PARAGRAPHS.” Bruce merely smiled and knocked out another line.

It was a lie. It was the biggest lie she’d told right next to the one she told when Bruce had asked her where she was on prom night her senior year a few years ago—she was totally not saving a different sector of the universe with Kyle Rayner, she was dancing with Sam Reilly all night—she strongly believed her dad knew the truth—Batman knew everything.

Bruce handed the paper back to her and she groaned as she scanned the red lines on every page. It was going to take her hours to go over this.

Jason leaned over and read the title, “Cellular Division and Mutation Under Extreme Elemental Circumstances…a composition by (Y/N) Wayne.” He cocked a dark brow. “Go big or go home, huh, baby girl?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Doctor Halberd wanted us to pick challenging topics for the research paper this term.” A crooked smile crossed her lips. “I’m nothing if not ambitious about proving I’m smarter than everyone else.”

“You need another source,” Bruce murmured, sipping the steaming black coffee. “One-fourteen is good, but I’d go for one-fifteen.”

She groaned and dropped her head. “Are you kidding me? I had enough trouble gathering that many.”

“Why don’t you use Barry?” Tim piped up, mouth full of whip cream and strawberries.

“Master Timothy, we do not talk with our mouth full,” Alfred admonished, and Tim blushed.

(Y/N)’s head shot up and she stared at her brother. “That’s actually a good idea. Speedsters would make for perfect references about cellular division.” An idea popped into her head and she glanced at Dick. “And since Wally is com—”

“Nope,” Dick interrupted, pointing at her. “Wally is coming over to hang out, not to be poked and prodded to finish a paper.”

She let out a whine and turned to Bruce. “Dad, tell Dick to let me at least talk to Wally about it.”

Bruce turned his attention onto Dick. “Let your sister talk to Wally about her paper.”

“Oh, come on,” he complained and (Y/N) stood from her seat, hurrying around the table to stand behind Dick’s seat.

She draped herself over his shoulders, tucking her chin in the crook of his neck. “I promise I won’t be annoying if you let me come with you. I’ll ask two questions every thirty minutes and I’ll go do shopping on my own, so I won’t be in the way.” (Y/N) craned her neck and pulled the most pitiful puppy eyes she could. “Please?”

Dick’s eyes darted to her face and then he looked away. Just one more push.

“Please frate?” she begged and when his eyes went wide from the usage of his native tongue, she knew she’d won him over.

He deflated and let out a sigh. “Fine,” he grumbled. “You can come with us.”

(Y/N) squealed and pressed a kiss to his cheekbone, as she grabbed the paper and hurried towards the door. She halted and spun around, looking at her father.

“What do I need to be most specific about?”

“Division under elemental circumstances.”

She glowered at him. “No shit Sherlock. Specifics.”

“Molecular division under terrestrial gamma-ray flashes.”

“That’ll work,” (Y/N) nodded and exited to room.

Jason looked out the door then back to his brothers. “She’s way to excited about science sometimes.” They merely laughed.

***

She raised the red lace, cold shoulder V-neck shirt to her chest before frowning, and switching it with the full lace blue shirt with mini golden lightning bolt charms hanging off the trim. After a moment, she pulled the blue one down and sighed.

“You know, if you want to impress him, I’d wear the red shirt.”

She jumped and barely managed to suppress the scream that was coming up in her throat as she swiveled around to face her door. Jason stood in the doorway, a knowing look on his face. She could play this one of two ways: she could be truthful, or she could lie—she chose the latter.

“What do you mean?” He snorted and walked into her room, taking a seat at her desk.

“I mean if you’re trying to impress Wally, wear the shirt that’s the color of his suit, (Y/N).” She looked away and into the mirror, but she couldn’t escape the eyes boring into her back.

“Is it that obvious?” she asked quietly, and he laughed.

“That you’re head over heels for Dick’s best friend? Oh yeah. Totally.”

She sighed and sat on her bed, pulling the red top over her torso. “It’s just a crush.”

“Seems like more than a crush to me, baby girl.”

(Y/N) pulled the fabric down and looked at him. “Are you gonna tell Dick?”

Jason scoffed. “Do I look like a narc to you?”

She cocked a brow and deadpanned, “Just the other night you told dad that Damian lifted Two-Face’s wallet when he was being put in a cruiser.”

“Well, that wasn’t something important,” he countered and nodded at her. “This is.” He paused and shrugged. “Nah, I’m not gonna tell Dickhead. Play this out however you see fit, baby girl.”

(Y/N) stared at him for a moment then averted her gaze and let out a sigh; Jason huffed.

“That sounds like a heavy sigh, (Y/N). What’s wrong?”

She shrugged. “I don’t even know if Wally would be interested in me. He’s him and I’m me.”

Jason stood and walked over, kneeling in front of her. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

(Y/N) met his eyes. “Anytime he’s had a girlfriend she’s always been super strong or really outspoken.”

“And you’re not?” he quipped, causing her to huff.

“You know what I mean, Jay.”

He nodded. “Okay, so you’re not an Amazon or shoving your head up someone’s ass for a story. But you’re you.”

“And that means?”

“You’re the only daughter of the World’s Greatest Detective who’s a wicked smart science major by day and a badass vigilante by night.” He cupped her cheeks. “You are intelligent, warmhearted, talented, and absolutely beautiful.” Jason smushed her cheeks together and grinned as she giggled. “And if Wally doesn’t see any of what I just said, then he’s a damn fool and not worth your time. You hear me, baby girl?”

She nodded. “I hear you.”

Jason gave her a firm nod and let go, standing to his feet. “Now come on let’s go do your makeup.”

(Y/N) blinked. “You can do makeup?”

“Baby girl, I can do a lot of things. Now hurry up. That razor sharp eye liner and golden eyeshadow isn’t going to do itself.”

***

She waited beside Dick with a pleasant smile on her face, and despite the fluttering heartbeat in her chest, Jason’s pep talk kept running through her head and with every passing moment, she felt her confidence rising. He was right, if she told Wally and he didn’t feel the same, then it was his loss and her gain to move on and find someone else.

A black sedan pulled up at the manor and the passenger window rolled down, revealing Wally at the wheel and Garth in the passenger’s seat. Dick waved at them.

“Hey guys,” he greeted. “How was the drive over?”

“Oh, you know, we saw three carjacking’s and one armed robbery,” Garth quipped. “I assume that’s normal for Gotham though.”

“It’s a bit below average actually,” (Y/N) piped up. “Hi Garth. Hi Wally.”

Wally smiled and Garth waved in return as the two siblings started getting in the car.

“You’re coming with us, (Y/N)?” Wally questioned and she nodded.

“Do you want me to lie to you or give you the truth?”

He chuckled. “I’m always open for a good story.”

“I wanted to buy out Victoria’s Secret and piss off any boyfriends who are in hot water with their girlfriends.” The guys laughed and she admitted, “Truth though, I need one last source for a research paper.”

“Gonna find that source shopping?” Garth asked and (Y/N) caught Wally’s eyes in the rear-view mirror.

“Actually, my last source is Wally.”

They fell silent and looked at her, though the speedster’s focus was on the road.

“What are you gonna source Wally on?” The Atlantean inquired.

“My paper is over cellular mutation under distress from elemental conditions.” She smiled at Wally. “Our speedster here, is a walking subject perfect for the paper. I can only hope that he agrees to be a willing participant.”

Wally chuckled. “I’d be willing to part with a few secrets for you. Of course, I’d have to—”

“Remain anonymous.” (Y/N) winked. “I’m sure my professor would be okay with me citing ‘The Flash’ so long as I had a picture with him to back it up.”

“I like pictures,” he murmured, pulling into the parking lot.

“That’s good to know,” she replied and when he put the car in park, she took her purse and added, “So I’ll leave you boys to do your shopping and Wally, I’ll text you any questions I have.”

“You’re not gonna hang around?” Garth asked and she shook her head.

“Nah, I don’t wanna be the annoying little sister who follows her older brother and his friends around.” She smiled at them. “Besides, Dick was kind enough to let me come along. Least I can do is stay out of your way.”

(Y/N) opened the door and waved at them. “Text me when you’re ready to leave and I’ll meet you back here.”

***

Despite the initial joke that she was going to buy out the lingerie store, there was actually some truth in the statement, and she drew her fingers over one of the lace baby dolls as she looked at her phone, grinning like a dope at Wally’s response.

Well, I wouldn’t say I’d grow a second skin from how fast my cells regenerate, but I can make my body heal instantaneously. -W

Can you regenerate limbs or major organs? –(Y/I)

Major organs or useful ones? -W

(Y/N) paused at his response and thought for a moment. It was risky. Sending the text, she was thinking about was risky, but it’d sure get her point across that she was into him. With her heart hammering in her chest, she pushed send and stuck her phone in her pocket.

Whichever ones are useful to you, Wally? ;) –(Y/N)

Her phone didn’t buzz for a good minute, and Wally took less than a second to reply, so he was doing one of two things: A.) Telling Dick that his younger sister sent a flirty text, or B.) Trying to figure out how to let her down easy. (Y/N) didn’t know which one was worse. Her hip buzzed and she inhaled shakily, pulling her phone out of her pocket with one eye cracked open to see how screwed she was.

Do you have a useful one in mind, beautiful? -W

She had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from letting out the biggest gasp any human had ever made, and she nervously looked around her to make sure no one else was staring at her. She grinned as she replied to him.

Oh, I could think of one…or two or three…Why? Is there gonna be a pop quiz over this later? I’ll have you know I’m an excellent test taker. –(Y/N)

Is that so? Well, what happens if you were to fail this particular pop quiz, (Y/N)? -W

I guess you’d have to stay the night for a study session and help me make a better grade ;) –(Y/I)

As she waited for another response, someone’s hand touched the small of her back and she reacted, immediately stepping away from the offending touch to spin on them. Her eyes went wide when she saw Wally standing before her, a grin on his face, phone in his hand.

“I think an overnight study session is possible, (Y/N).”

Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like a fish until she finally got her brain to work and asked, “I thought you were shopping with Dick and Garth?”

He shrugged. “Told Dick you asked me an advanced question that’d be easier to answer in person than over text.” He wiggled his brows. “You know, advanced equations and scientific gibberish.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and turned back around, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks as she picked up one of the teddies. And when she realized what it looked like, she only felt more flustered. Crimson with baby blue trimming and was practically a shoelace.

“Well, that’sa hint if there ever was one,” Wally quipped, and she pulled the lingerie out of his line of sight.

“It was just the first one I grabbed!” she exclaimed, snapping her mouth shut when people looked over at them. Her cheeks felt like they were wildfires, and she pressed her head against the cool metal of the rack, sighing with what little relief it provided.

“You know, (Y/N),” he started softly. “If you’re not comfortable, this doesn’t have to go anywhere. I can forget this ever happened if you want me to.” (Y/N) opened her eyes and peered at him, at the concern but also the kindness in his gaze.

“I just—” she murmured and trailed off before letting out a sigh. “It’s kinda complicated.”

“Okay,” Wally nodded. “My mouth might work faster than my brain sometimes but lay it on me.”

She cracked a smile and thought back on Jason’s words. If Wally doesn’t see any of what I just said, then he’s a damn fool and not worth your time.

(Y/N) took a deep breath and looked at him, admitting, “Wally, I have…feelings for you.” His eyes widened and though she felt the sting of embarrassment, she pushed out her words. “It’s stupid, like one of those dumb childhood crushes that just sticks with you, you know?”

She averted her gaze and looked at her peep toe heels. “I just don’t wanna screw anything up because even if you don’t feel anything like I do, I don’t wanna lose you as a friend. Because I do value your friendship.” She sighed. “And Dick. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable about coming over to see him if there’s a chance you’ll have to see me too. I just—”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Wally interrupted gently, a smile growing on his face. “You’re thinking way big here, (Y/N). Bigger than you need to right now.”

She met his eyes. “Right now?” she repeated, and he reached out, taking her hand in his. His fingers felt tingly against her palm and he smiled.

“I like you, (Y/N).”

She blinked at him, practically dumbfounded. “You…you do?”

Wally nodded and confessed, “Have for a couple years, but I didn’t wanna make a move not knowing if you were interested.” His cheeks tinged pink, and he said, “But I’m glad you are. Like super glad.” (Y/N) giggled, suddenly feeling really foolish for all her worry and Wally let out a chuckle too.

She stared at him for a moment, relishing the coolness of his skin before pulling away, toying with the teddy in her other hand.

“So, about tonight…you staying over?”

Wally let out a groan and looked between her and the lingerie. “Probably, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to get away long enough to spend some time alone with you.”

(Y/N) let out a ‘pfft’ and winked. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Flash. You are the fastest man alive.”

“You’re into quickies? Good to know,” he grinned.

“Shut up,” she giggled.

[tranquilo-antique-apothecary]

Hey, do you think you might anything with Zengo the kitsune he so sweet and so comforting! And I would love any kind of fluff with him, if you could, please.

Zengo the Male Kitsune: The Days After

I'm happy you think of him that way because I wanted him to be a comforting person! Pretty short compared to his first part but I hope it will suffice!

Summary: After your emotional breakdown in one of the forests of Gergesa and a sincere confession from Zengo, your week goes on surprisingly well as Zengo intends on making it all better. Even if it means leaving his most cherished spot just to visit you.

Contains: emiko our beloved gal, less zengo compared to the first post, subtle fluff, comfort, mentions of family problems, the call from the first post is brought up a lot, actually proofread this time, cliffhanger oopsie,

A day after the…call, you decided to tell Emiko what happened and for once, Emiko looked dissatisfied as her canines bared in anger while she sits with you in the employee’s break room.

"How dare they! They don't deserve you and they have the nerve to- ugh!-” She clenches her fist and shakes them like a disgruntled grandpa, “Say the word, Y/N, and I’ll fly over there and punch ‘em!”

You look down for a brief moment. Truthfully, you weren’t, but who would? After devoting your time and work for family only to end up being called…

“You cried when you accidentally hit someone.” “It was an accident though!!"

Emiko sighed and puts her hands on her furry cheeks, eyeing you carefully as she leans her elbows on the table, “Are you alright, though?”

You pursed your lips and Emiko frowned before standing up and hugging you, one which you gratefully accepted. 

“Use your time to rest, I want to say you cut them off and only send a margin to them but I don’t control you. Whatever choice you make regarding them, I’ll be here to support you, alright?” You close your eyes and lean on her neck, her fur tickling your nose. “Thank you, Emiko.”

“That’s what friends do.” Emiko whispered before pulling back with a playful smirk, “So, who’s this guy you’re blushing over? A secret admirer I don’t know about? Is he from town?-”

You groaned and she giggled, her tail wagging excitedly, “Come on, Y/N! We’re friends! Why did I only know now that you’re meeting with someone?”

“It’s- well-” You stammer and scratch your head, unsure of how to explain to her that you’ve caught these feelings for someone you’ve only met for a short time, “I met him the second time I went to the shrine and we crossed paths every time we go and I guess we formed a bond?” 

‘A bond enough for him to comfort me in the middle of the forest during one of the worst times in my life and MAYBE confess he likes me??’ You thought, but you weren’t going to tell her that.

“Man, I wondered what happened to that fox that was helping you though..” The thought of that friendly fox that bid you farewell the first time you went there made you glum, “Yeah…”

“It’s kind of weird, the whole time I went there all of the foxes don’t really leave their spot in the shrine. Sure, they sometimes roam the forest but that’s rare because they’re protecting the place- or at least that’s what Obachan says- but anyway!” Emiko sits back in her seat, leaning back in deep thought.

Your heart drops at the thought that the fox could be… ”You don’t think that fox is…-?”

“Foxes are very intelligent and cunning, most of the forest is protected by the town so there’s a lower chance of natural accidents, and there’s laws here against unjustful acts if people do try to harm them purposefully. I’m sure that fox will be fine, Y/N.” Emiko smiles at you reassuringly and you sigh, nodding your head, “Yes, I suppose so.”

Emiko lived in this town for all of her life, being born decades later after her family migrated in this mysterious place you started to call home. Despite her bubbly attitude, she stood by her values and knew if things were right, so if she says it’s true then it’s most likely true.

“Still, for a fox of the shrine to leave far from their home, it must be really important.” Emiko stated before standing up after hearing both of your names being called. “Well! Wherever the fox is, I wish them safety and happiness and love and tons of fox babies!”

You smile, unbeknownst to the truth, “I wish so too.”  

Zengo sits together with you, stuffing his face with the tofu you’ve brought while you fed some of the eager foxes patiently waiting at your feet. The both of you had a silent agreement not to talk about the incident until you were comfortable enough, much to your relief.

You recall your chat about the fox with Emiko and your eyes light up before quickly turning to him, his head turning to face you first, already expecting you would chat with him out of the blue.

“Zengo?” “Hmm?” “There was a fox here- I don’t know if you recognize them- but- have you seen this sharp-eyed fox that would lead you to the offering box?”

Zengo pauses and you fiddle with the fork you're holding, suddenly realizing how random that was, “Well- there was a cute fox that led me here and I didn’t see them around after that- you work here so I thought!-”

“Cute?” He mutters and a tint of red envelops his cheeks, not that you noticed, too busy trying to explain to him without sounding awkward. The foxes previously lounging near you and happily accepting your food look at each other before walking away. You imagined they must be snickering to themselves if they could talk.

“That fox was one of the reasons I continued to come here- ah- before I met you, of course!” Zengo stares at you with wide eyes, his calm demeanor seemingly broken in a quick second, “Thank you.” “Sorry?” You tilt your head, confused as to why he was thanking you.

“I mean…Thank you for your concern about the kitsunes. I assure you that the fox you are speaking of is safe, they may be trying to protect and watch over those that have their wishes heard from the Gods.” you hum in understanding, that was a good point! You were just happy that the fox was alive and well somewhere.

“Funny though, a friend of mine- the same one who taught me how to cook these-” You gesture to your box of fried tofu, “-told me that the foxes here rarely leave. They only leave when it’s something really important.” 

You take a bite of your food, humming in satisfaction (you were getting better day by day, both Emiko and Zengo had stated, much to your joy) while Zengo tilts his head a little, his cheeks still flushed and orange eyes thinking about something before he takes a bite of his own.

“I suppose your friend is right.”

It was another morning and you were lying if you said you were slowly moving on from your family, in fact, you couldn’t even go a single night without thinking about it and crying. Emiko had chatted with you during those moments to distract you, but it was Zengo who gave the comfort and advice you needed to get up every morning.

“Don’t beat yourself up for not moving on more quickly than what you want it to. Healing takes time and you should also allow yourself to grieve. Only then can you push yourself back up.” He was right. And so you took a long warm bath, stretched your body a little, ate a fulfilling breakfast, and went to work early for a productive day.

The coworkers already there happily greeted you, most of them giving you a loving pat on the head or shoulder before moving on with their work. Your boss, a Minotaur that owned the eatery, gave you a much-needed hug that nearly made you tear up. He was a parent and an adviser to you, and it only just dawned on you that everyone here felt more like family than your own.

“Take it easy, alright, kid?” You nod your head with a thankful and teary smile as your boss pats your head.

Emiko arrived shortly after and had immediately insisted that you switch with her, with you being the waiter and her as the cook. Normally, you would have declined, the fear of messing up crawling up your spine always overtaking you, but the morning shift was slow anyway, and it’s not like the others minded. So after a moment of hesitation, you agreed and Emiko squealed, clapping her hands with glee and rushing off to take the cook’s uniform while you take an apron.

The bell at the door chimes and your back was turned, writing down something on your notepad, “Sorry, in a minute!” You call out to whoever came in.

And now here you were, as a waiter. It wasn’t AS scary as you thought but you expected it was only because of the regular customers, and the fact it was a morning shift. It was the lunch shift that was tough. You visibly shudder imagining it while you took orders.

“Please take your time.” A familiar voice softly says.

You freeze in your tracks, turning around and seeing the long orange-white hair that you’ve grown to admire, suppressing a gasp once you saw him.

“Zengo?”

Zengo shuffles on his feet, looking out of place with everyone else with his outfit, “Good morning, Y/N.”

You two stared at each other, you with utter shock while Zengo’s was uncharacteristic bashfulness.

Zengo looks up and down at you for a moment and you resist the urge to hide away.

And then he smiles calmly, “You look cute.”

You stammer in your workplace and gape like a fish out of water. In front of regulars and coworkers. In front of your crush who you thought you would only be able to meet in the shrine.

Emiko was never going to live this down.

Oh boy.

[mintmatcha]

addressing issues - kyotani kentarou

well! here's part two to this drabble ! special thanks to Amy (@saetyrn9) for helping me out!

tw: hurt comfort, discussion of relationship issue

The pancakes are raw in the middle. You try to pick around the batter, stabbing only the burnt bits with your fork, but it's a bit of a hopeless task. The gluey texture sticks to your tongue and the tingle of baking soda fills your mouth with each bite.

 "Don't eat that." Kyotani tosses the spatula into the sink with a sigh. The smell of burnt sugar clings to the air, even though all of the windows in the apartment are propped open. He's still in his pajama pants, loose things now splattered with batter, but he's pulled on a sweatshirt- one that he stole from your closet months ago. "I ordered food. It'll be here in 20."

You place the fork down. "Thank you for cooking." 

He slinks over, shoulders slack with defeat, and plops himself at the table. Tiredness weighs on his features; neither of you slept very well last night, but he was out of bed long before you even woke. "Don't thank me- I fucked it up." 

He expects anger. Maybe discipline. Sometimes you wonder if that’s all he’s ever known. 

Stretching across the table, your hand finds his cheek and cups it. Morning stubble prickles along your palm as you give him a little squeeze. He's frozen in your touch, neither pulling away nor leaning in, but his eyes close. 

"Thank you." you repeat, firm.

He turns to kisses your palm and his lips linger. They’re soft and waxy- he’s been using that chapstick you gave him. "Anything for you." 

You two stay like this, connected by only your touch, for a long time, much longer than justifiable. Just as the moment feels infinite, Kyotani breaks away. 

"We're avoiding it." he says. He takes your hand into his, placing two more quick kisses before setting you down. As he pulls away, you tighten your grasp and interlace your fingers with his. There's a flicker of surprise, the slight raise of his brows, but he settles into the contact, drumming his fingers along your knuckles. 

"I know." you sigh. "We…. don't have to talk about this if you don't want to. We could just… move on."

He takes a deep, stabilizing breath. "That's not healthy." 

The clock chimes. It rings through the kitchen, filling the space where your response should be. He raps in your knuckles with his finger tips, tapping patterns you can’t quite follow.

"Okay." 

"Okay." he repeats. Kentarou digs into the hoodie's pocket and reveals a crumpled ball of paper. As he unfurls it, you can catch a couple words scribbled in the margins. 

"Did you… take notes?" you ask. He flushes immediately, aggressively trying to smooth wrinkles down. He's scowling at the mess of graphite smeared across the page. The tips of his ears are scarlet, bright against his blonde. 

"I … I'm not good with all this. This makes it easier." He shoots you a quick glance. "Is...that okay?"

"I just didn't expect it." 

The sink's dripping again. It's a random droplet that collects at the faucets' rim before falling into the collection of dirty dishes below with a tiny plink. It catches your eye, the way it gathers slowly; maybe you could ask the landlord-

Ken's right. You are avoiding it.

"I don't like it when you yell." It feels good to state the obvious. The bounce of your calf shakes the table, jostling your joined hands, but it barely registers.  "It makes me feel shitty. Really shitty." 

There's still a weight of something upsetting you; it itches in the back of your throat. "And… and it scared me."

He clutches your hand tighter. There’s a slight tremble in his throat, the miniscule shake of his adam’s apple, as he swallows, but he doesn’t let anything reach his face. The firm hold of his brow is stoic, controlled, even as his body betrays him. 

"I’m sorry.” his voice is firm. He opens his mouth to say something else, but only draws in a breath. His tongue flicks over his bottom lip, running over the chapped edges slowly as he contemplates in silence. “I... I’m sorry.”

“I know. I know you are.” 

“I.. I just…”  Kyotani’s unusually frazzled as his eyes flick down to the page in front of him. If you strain, you can make out some of the scribblings, but he adjusts away from you, covering the writing. “It's dumb, but…” he traces over his writing with his finger as he reads.  “Sometimes, I feel some type-a way and… it, it comes out wrong. It’s easier for me to get angry than admit that I’m hurt. It’s not fair to you. It’s not an excuse.” he looks up at you. “I’ll work on expressing myself better.”

There’s a sincerity in his voice, a gentle truth that you want to cling on to, but that itch under your skin hasn’t gone away. The situation’s still bothering you, still begging to be addressed. As you turn over it all, the squeeze of his hand no longer feels comforting- it feels overbearing.

“Kentarou, I don’t even know what I /did/.” you try and pull away, but he’s holding too tightly. Exacerbation boils in your chest, bubbling over quicker than you can control. “One minute, we’re having a good time with your friends. The next minute you’re yelling at me and storming off! I don't understand what I even did!" 

"But-"

The waver in your voice rings through the room as you give a final tug. “I can’t live like this,  constantly hoping that I don’t push your buttons. It makes me feel like I’m living in a minefield.” Reluctantly, he releases you, hand still dangling over the ruined breakfast. His steady look has finally broken into one more recognizable, with downturned mouth and a glassy sheen to his eyes. It’s blinked away quickly with a sniff, replaced with his usual sternness, but it was there. “It can’t happen again, Kenta.”

“I understand. “ he says immediately. 

The sink drips again. It’s all you can look at, that little shine in the corner of your eye. The uncomfortable squirm building in your stomach begs you to keep watching it, to focus on it until nothing matters. You’re only brought back to the conversation when his chair squeaks across the tile as he pushes away from the table. In a few strides, he’s at the faucet, wiggling the handle with just the delicate touch of his ring finger. “I’ll fix that tomorrow.” 

Of course he will. He’s always clanking around your apartment, burying himself into a new task wordlessly. Wordlessly, without request, he strives to make your life better. 

“I don’t even know what I did.” you repeat. The blonde leans over the sink, hunching over his elbows with a sigh.

"It's a dumb reason."

"If it matters to you, it's not dumb." 

He says it without looking at you. "I don't like it when you call me maddog." he states firmly. "It hurts. Really fucking bad."

Your anger deflates, suffocated by the sudden weight of guilt. "I didn't know that." 

He shrugs. It says all he needs to. 

“I- your friends call you mad dog though." 

“I don’t like it when they do it either.”

“But you don’t yell at them.” 

"They call me mad dog because they think I'm mean. Feral." he shoves his hands into the sweatshirt's pocket and kicks at the tile. His sock, a pink polka-dotted thing he must have fished out of your drawer, skids across the tile. It doesn't match his other sock- a Kentarou staple."I don't care if that's what they think of me." 

 Kyotani gives you a half smile. "But I care how you see me."

You stand and slink over, reaching for the drawstrings on his hood. He straightens at your presence, but doesn't reach, instead just letting you fiddle with the frayed cloth. Neither of you can meet each other's gaze, instead just staring at the floor between you. It's not until now you realize that you are wearing the other pink sock. Sliding your foot in between his completes the set. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too."  The weight of him suddenly leaning against you, relaxing into you, almost knocks off your balance, but there's a comforting warmth to him.

"Still love me?" he rests his forehead against yours as he talks, his fingers are trailing over your sides and gathering up the hem of your shirt.

"Of course." you tug the strings, tightening the hood around his neck, "Still love me?"

He grips your hips and pulls you flush against him as a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. "Always will." 

His lips trail lower until they are almost aligned with yours, breath warm and sweet. You rise up ever so slightly to close the gap. The first kiss is fleeting, just a test of the waters, but the next one takes its time.The drag of his lips, the taste of mint on his breath, the hum building in his throat: it suddenly hits you how much you've missed him. As your hands slide into his hoodie, your hoodie, pocket, dragging him closer, Kentarou changes the pace and showers your face with a barrage of pecks. It's quick and needy, leaving you no time to even breathe. 

"You know-" you manage to as you dodge his mouth, arching your back away from him to catch your breath. He grunts out something adjacent to a whine and dips with you to press against your forehead."I don't think you're mean."

 "You don't? Even after all this?" As he continues tracing kisses down your face and neck, tickling you with his stubble, you laugh and squirm, but he's holding you steady. 

"I think you're a big softy."  you giggle.

"Hey now. Don't go around saying I'm soft." he nips at your neck with a warning growl, but  you can feel the curve of his smile. "It's only for you." 

[existslikepristin]

Yexercise

This was the vote story immediately after Movie Night. Note: image has all three members from the beginning, but it ended up being all Yeri.

Tags: TheLounge, Red Velvet, Yeri, male reader insert, blowjob, titfucking, anal, va--nilla sex, workout sex, exhaustion, kink talk, appearances from Wendy/Seulgi/Irene but JoY hAs A bOyFrIeNd

~~~~~

"Hey, thanks. You don't need to give me the discount though," you say. You put your wallet back in your pocket, pick up the bag of muffins, and take the coffee from the guy across the counter.

"Nonsense! The Lounge wouldn't be so successful without your help. Besides, the profit margin on that stuff is insane."

The two of you chuckle with each other for a moment, and you smell the coffee he practically gave you free. Fresh roasted and ground on location, not too much sugar, and slightly more cream than usual. "Damn, man. This stuff smells like heaven."

"Heaven? Haha! More like Brazil! But speaking of heaven, who's the lucky lady today? You never get more than one muffin on your own."

You shrug. The man knows you, that's for sure. "Well, not a date this time. Wendy asked me to meet her here,"

"Oh, Red Velvet?"

"Yup. I think it's a business thing. I was asking her about song composing but I'm not supposed to tell you she's getting into that."

"Of course." He raises his eyebrows and flattens his mouth. "You know how Mr. SM can be about these things."

That's exactly what SinB and Eunha said and did a couple days ago, and nobody ever explained what they meant. "Actually, I--"

"Ah, there she is! And Seulgi and Yeri too!"

You turn around to see that he is definitely correct. Holding the door open is Wendy, dressed in a blue-and-white-striped sweater that sags off one of her shoulders, baggy blue jeans, and white sneakers. Her light brown hair is draped over one shoulder. Her casual outfit is contrasted by her exceptional, yet minimal make up.

Yeri has already passed her and entered the building. Unlike Wendy, her make up consists of some lazy eyeliner and not much else. Your heart skips a beat when you see her light gray yoga pants are as tight as a second skin, though her pink hoodie hangs just low enough to see any of her ass. She's cut her hair into a short bob again, and dyed it dirty blonde.

Seulgi follows Yeri, and certainly looks the most put-together overall. Her jet black hair is pulled into a ponytail so you can see her glamorous earrings and bright red lips. She's wearing a nearly wrinkleless white dress shirt barely see through enough to show her bra, black business pants, and short black heels.

A shiver crashes down your spine, nearly making you drop your coffee. You're not sure you'll ever get used to seeing all these gorgeous idols in person, and especially not when they're approaching you.

"Hey, sorry we're late," Wendy opens the conversation, "We got held up for a minute."

Yeri smirks. It looks like she's paying more attention to the menu overhead than to any one person. "Held up by some Canadian grandma driving."

Wendy frowns. "It's called a speed limit."

Seulgi gives you a short bow. You do the same back. Finally, a regular greeting. Then again, it makes sense since she's the one you've spent the least amount of time with. That's not saying much though, since you haven't had much opportunity to get to know any member of Red Velvet. "Good to see you again," she says formally.

"Oh shut up Sluggo, you know why we're here." Yeri points up at the menu. "I'll take the mocha--"

"What she means is... Well, can we talk?" Wendy asks, looking more than a little flustered.

"Yeah, totally. I got some muffins for us to share, but I thought it was just going to be the two of--"

"Fuck yeah, bro! Thanks!" Yeri snatches the muffin bag out of your hand and has one halfway in her mouth before you can protest.

Wendy sighs. "Let's sit down, shall we?"

Getting a table with room for four is a simple matter. Seulgi sits opposite from you, Yeri next to her, and Wendy next to you.

Yeri's busy eating both of the muffins you bought, which may be the only reason Wendy is able to finish her thoughts. "So, we don't have a whole lot of time. We're actually-- well, two of us are going to a gig in like fifteen minutes, but you know we're really busy. I mean, of course, you know us, and we've got a thing in fifteen-- Ugh. I'm sorry, I'm so bad at this. How's your day been?"

Normally in all of your previous conversations, short as they have been, you've noticed that Wendy is generally much more confident than this. "Um, pretty good. It's still early though. Just got here myself, so I haven't had time to do much today."

"Oh geez, that's right. I'm sorry, the last few weeks have really just been blending together, you know? So like, you know Yerin right? I mean, of course you know Yerin. So Yerin has been talking to Joy, and you've been brought up in that, and so we know a little bit about you."

You chuckle and scratch the back of your neck. "Ah, crap. If Yerin's been talking about me, I can only imagine the kinds of things she's said." Obviously, your history with Yerin and her perverted attitude can mean one thing.

Seulgi blushes. "Y-yeah. Is it okay that we're talking to you about this?"

"I mean, we haven't really talked about anything specific yet."

"They mean sex." Yeri blurts out, slightly muffled by muffin.

You laugh. Thinking back on Wendy's texts and her vague word choices, you figured she had a serious question for you, but you still can't figure out what it is she wanted to talk to you about. It's a little awkward that she brought two of her group members with her if she's looking for advice, too. "I kind of figured that's what it was about. But hell yeah, I'm an open book. What's on your mind?"

Wendy lets out a relieved sigh. "Oh my gosh, thank you. I thought I was going to die from my own awkwardness there."

She pauses as a barista walks over with Yeri's drink. You make note of the way, out of the corner of her eye, Yeri watches the barista's ass as she walks away.

Wendy continues with a bright smile that you're a little more used to seeing, "So uh, the three of us are currently looking for something, and wanted to know what your rates are."

You hesitate, piecing together what Wendy just said with the fact that the conversation has been defined as one about sex. "Has Yerin been... saying I'm a prostitute?"

Suddenly, it feels like you're in a pressure cooker. Silence grips the table as the tension rises. Wendy stares at you like a deer in the headlights, her eyes widening slowly and her smile fading.

The sound of the steamer behind the store's counter sets off a chain reaction of noise.

"OH MY GOD," Wendy shouts, "I AM SO SORRY!"

Yeri slaps the table and bursts into laughter, sending crumbs of muffin everywhere. Seulgi is glowing red, shaking all over, and looking frantically between you, Wendy, and the mess Yeri is making.

"I DIDN'T MEAN-- OH GOD--" Wendy grabs your arm with both hands, crushing down as if she's afraid you're about to leave. She lowers her voice to a hushed tone, but speaks at the speed of a runaway train, "I'm so sorry I didn't mean anything by it I supp-- We all support the sex work industry and I'm sorry I didn't me--"

The other two have effectively disappeared. Seulgi, with her arms covering her face and crouched low in her chair. Yeri has fallen to the floor, truly making the scene worse with how hard she's laughing and gasping for air.

For as mildly insulted as you feel, you aren't very surprised, considering Yerin's habit of using insults and crude words as terms of endearment. You smirk and put a hand on Wendy's shoulder. You try to calm her down, but are slightly afraid she won't hear you through her rambling, "Hey, hey. You're good. I'm not a prostitute, but it's fine."

Wendy slows down, but appears to be on the verge of hyperventilation. "I can't believe this. I shouldn't have assumed. Oh god. I am such a dumbass."

You get out of your chair and wrap your arms around her. She immediately shuts up, face melting into your chest. "You're good, Wendy. Honestly, that's hilarious more than anything."

Yeri is calming down a little as well, with the aid of Seulgi furiously brushing away the streaks of black makeup running off of her eyes. Even so, she can barely manage to get back into her chair, still having giggle fits and clutching at her stomach.

"I might not be one, but I think I can help you out anyway. What exactly are you looking for?" You let go of Wendy and watch her dab at a few tears that started with a napkin.

"No, no. I don't think I can say after all that. I am... so embarrassed right now."

Still fighting to catch her breath, Yeri chimes in, "We're too busy to find dick so she tried to find a way to schedule it. Holy shit, 'Sup? How's your day? How much do you charge for a good time, ho?' Right? Wow, Wendy."

"Yeri! That's not what she said!" Seulgi slaps at Yeri's arm and nervously looks around for anyone who might still be watching.

"Might as well have been! This is the best!"

You can't help but chuckle along with Yeri. You stare in her direction, hoping to get her attention with your next sentence, "You don't have to pay to fuck me."

That shuts Yeri up. She stares back. "Woah, you serious?"

You sit back down and glance at Wendy and Seulgi. They're staring too.

"Yeah, why not? Sounds like fun. Hell, I'd go for it right now, but you've got a gig to get to, right?"

Seulgi shakily raises a hand as if she's asking permission to speak. "O-only two of us are going to that."

Underneath the table, you feel someone's foot sliding up and down your leg. You have no doubt it's Yeri's, as she speaks up again, "Why don't you guess which one of us isn't busy today?"

Yeah. Why don't you?

Options for Part 1 [IMPORTANT (duh)]: 1. (Picked:) Is it Yeri? It seems too obvious, given how eager she obviously is. But she could be straight up trolling you. That seems like something she'd do. If it's her, you imagine you'll end up exhausted soon. She seems to have a LOT of energy to burn.

2. Is it Wendy? She's the one who organized this meetup after all. Maybe she'll ask you to come along as she drops the other members off at their gig. If she's the one, you can guess you'll have a very nice, sweet time. She's got those wifey vibes.

3. Is it Seulgi? She's been very quiet this whole time. She definitely took the time to dress to impress today. Maybe it's you she means to impress. If you're spending the day with her, you have no clue what to expect. You've got to watch out for the quiet ones...

~~~~~

You look underneath the table and see it is, in fact, Yeri who is stroking your leg with her foot. Her running shoes aren't exactly making it comfortable or sexy.

"I'm going to guess it's you."

"Sure is, babe." Yeri winks. Wendy and Seulgi both groan in unison. Yeri doesn't seem to mind them at all.

"So," Wendy says slowly, "you really meant that about having sex with us? I don't want to pressure you."

You look across the table and see Seulgi biting her lip, not in an intentionally sexy way, but maybe nervously?

"Yup. I'm not free literally all the time, so we might have to actually schedule it, which definitely feels weird, but I'm up for it."

Wendy grins. "Awesome! Thanks! Thanks? Thanks."

"But hey, to be totally clear, why me? You guys know you can have sex with each other, right?"

Seulgi pops in, "We have. It's just... we all want different things that others aren't comfortable with."

"Yeah, getting fucked softly by strapons is boooring," Yeri says. She glares at Wendy.

"H-hey! You know my hip--"

You're about to ask what they all want to do that's so radically different, or why they assume you're okay with all of it, but Wendy's phone alarm goes off.

"Crap. So, can we talk about this later? We have to get to our shoot."

"Totally, sure. Text me when you're off?"

Wendy and Seulgi are already starting to walk away. Yeri has made herself quite comfortable where she is though.

"I'll text you, yeah! Um, are you okay with babysitting that one for a bit?"

Yeri scrunches up her nose. "The fuck, bitch?!"

You laugh. "Yeah, why not?"

Wendy smiles and rushes out the door. Seulgi follows, but only after giving you a polite bow. "See you again soon!"

The busy life of a big three idol, you muse to yourself.

"Hmmm, seems we've got some time to kill, huh?" Yeri leans forward on the table, squeezing her tits through her bulky sweatshirt.

"Guess we do. I have one formal request to have sex with you and another to babysit you. Bit unusual."

Yeri groans. "Yeah fuck that. You realize I'm well into my twenties right? I want your cock, not a bedtime story."

You decide against telling her about the stories you swapped with SinB just a couple nights ago. "Couldn't put you to bed if I wanted to with that extra large mocha you've got there," you say instead.

“You could put me in a bed.”

“Snappy one. I like it.”

Yeri smirks and takes a sip of her coffee. “I don’t mean right now though. I’ve got something in mind already.”

“You mean what you were going to pay me to do?”

“Sure was, ho. Why? You still want the money?”

You sigh. “Well I’m really not in the business. So if you really want to spend something on me, maybe get me some breakfast? You ate mine.”

“You can eat me.”

After you give her a brief, unamused look, she relents. “Okay. Okay. What do you want? You can eat it on the way.”

“I see you like to make assumptions. And I’ll take a smoked salmon bagel.”

“I’m used to my assumptions being met. And I didn’t know they made those here.”

“Do you assume you’re going to get your way today? And they’re delicious.”

“Maybe I do assume that. I guess we’ll see. And I’ll have one too.”

Yeri hops off of her seat and goes back to the counter to put in your order. Thanks to the lack of a line or crowd, the bagels are ready by the time you’ve followed her. You open the bag.

“Four? Feeling hungry this morning?”

“Oh I’m starving for dick, but only one of those is for me. The others are for you. You’ll need the energy.”

“Question.” You stop, The Lounge’s front door half open in your hand. “Do you always speak so boldly and then follow it up immediately with something vague?”

She smirks and you watch as one of her hands slides around your waist and traces your butt before giving it a tight squeeze. She reaches past you with her other hand and pulls the door open the rest of the way so she can step outside, slowly twirling around you. “No,” she says, “Sometimes, I don’t speak.”

Smooth, you think.

The walk to wherever Yeri is taking you is a pleasant one. She takes your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. She walks in sync with you. She makes easy conversation about work, food, and ideal local vacation spots. She nibbles on her bagel slowly enough that she finishes right about when you finish all three of yours. You almost forget that less than an hour ago she was making lewd comments about hiring you for sex, and that she is currently taking you to a location where she intends to fuck you.

It’s not long before you reach a building that she pulls you into, swiping a key card to open the door. The inside isn’t particularly remarkable, and you don’t see any signs anywhere that would reveal the building’s purpose. Three flights of stairs going up and one more key card swipe through a door, and you find yourself in a small gym.

One wall is effectively a single giant mirror like a dance studio would have, and there’s a variety of equipment you recognize as being for pilates as well as weight training and a treadmill. The floor is ever so slightly spongy-soft, it’s well lit when she flips on the lights, there’s a large potted fern in one corner with a small stereo next to it, and it’s otherwise undecorated. It smells like sweat.

“Personal, private gym?” you ask.

“Personal, private gym,” Yeri says. She drops her purse and kicks off her shoes next to the door, motioning for you to do the same.

“Not that I’m complaining, but couldn’t we have used a room at The Lounge, or your place, or mine?”

“Maybe. But I’m comfortable here. And there aren’t any company bitches here to get on my case for getting our freak on.”

Yeri walks into the middle of the room and pulls her hoodie over her head. It turns out she was only wearing a purple sports bra underneath.

Although she is still fully dressed as far as modern societal standards are concerned, you find yourself staring at her incredibly sexy body as if it’s totally exposed. Her leggings are exactly as skin-tight as you were hoping, practically revealing her firm ass. If she’s even wearing anything underneath them, you can’t tell. But as she lifts her arms above her head to toss her hoodie behind her and to stretch, it’s her mostly bare back and the toned muscle running up and down either side of her spine that catches you off guard. You can’t take your eyes away. She looks at you in the mirror and catches you staring.

“I’m glad you like,” she says, putting one finger between her teeth in the corner of her mouth and giving you a sultry look you didn’t think she was capable of. She twists to look at you over her shoulder. “Your turn.”

You remove your jacket and pull your shirt off. While it’s over your eyes, you hear padding footsteps coming your way, followed by a body being pressed up against yours. By the time your shirt is totally off, her hands are sliding up your back. This is one seriously forward idol you’re dealing with.

“So here we are. I picked the location. What’s next?” Yeri asks, “I’ve got a naughty thought or two, but maybe you have an idea you want to surprise me with.”

Options for Part 2:

1. No surprise, nothing fancy. Just get naked and get started. 2. There must be a shower in this building if it contains gyms. Ask her to take you there and you can get her wet all over. 3. (Picked:) Yeri was literally going to hire you for this, and “naughty thoughts” sound fun. Ask her what those are all about.

~~~~~

“Naughty thoughts huh? Why don’t you tell me about those?”

Yeri grimaces and looks off to the side. “Uh...”

“Uh…” You look down at her, confused. “What? What.”

“I was, you know.”

You hesitate…

“No! I don’t know! What?!”

“Like, I was expecting you to just rip off my bra or pants and go to town, you know?”

“But you said you have naughty thoughts. Why wouldn’t I ask about those?”

“I don’t know! I was counting on you not asking about them!”

You rub your eyes. You’re about to ask why she would bother bringing up the option if she was going to make such a big deal out of it, but she speaks first.

“I want to get fucked while I’m working out.”

“That’s it?” you ask after a moment of hesitation.

“It’s not all I want to do.”

“Well, care to share with the rest of the class? Or are you too embarrassed about having really normal-sounding kinks?”

Yeri shoves you back and takes a few steps toward the pilates equipment. “Are we doing this or not?”

“I’m all for it.”

She grabs the sides of her bra and with no small amount of difficulty pulls it off over her head. You easily forget about the awkwardness as you watch her breasts squeeze out slowly and eventually drop the rest of the way.

Yeri's breasts live up to the hype. When she beckons you over to her (in the same way you would beckon for a dog, annoyingly), you realize your opportunity to touch them for yourself is at hand. Literally.

You grab her by the shoulders first though, spinning her around so she's facing the pilates bench and the mirror. You wrap your arms under hers to feel her tits from behind. They're more than your hands can take in a single grasp. But you're not in this for speed. You bend down to kiss her neck, which gets a satisfied growl from her.

"Bite me," she says. It's not a softly spoken statement, and it's right next to your ear thanks to your positioning, so you're stunned for about half a second.

You do as she demands, taking a small bit of her neck between your teeth and sucking. If she wants hickeys you won't argue.

You're rewarded with a smack on the top of the head. Confused with her behavior again, you pull away.

"I didn't say nibble. I said bite."

"Oh. Uh, sure."

"Like, draw blood."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah! Like, if you're gonna bite, it's gotta be hard! Really get your canine teeth in there, right? Just fucking give it to me."

You stare at her for a moment. "Let's, um, start with the exercise thing first, yeah?"

Seeming suddenly confident again, Yeri hops onto the pilates bench and flips herself upside-down using the bars. She stretches herself out into a position you imagine can't be easy to hold for long. "Sure, if you can reach me."

You squint at her for just a second. She's switching between embarrassment and confidence so fast you can't figure out what's really going on. But at least right now, she seems fine.

Standing up on the bench, you find you’re at nearly the perfect height to put your face between her legs. And that’s exactly what you’re going to do. You grab the waistband of her leggings and pull them down to her knees. Underneath, absolutely nothing. No underwear, no hair. Just a completely bare pussy and smooth ass tensed with the effort of holding her body weight in an upward arch.

It’s a tight fit getting your head between her legs, given that she doesn’t have a lot of space to spread them apart. The reward is worth the trouble.

You flatten your tongue against her pussy to give it a full, long lick. She responds with a long, breathy moan. And since she gives you no reason to stop, you do it again, and again, and again. Each time, Yeri shivers just a little bit, making it obvious how much she’s enjoying herself.

Hands on either side of her hips, just touching for the sake of touching and not holding her up, you close your eyes and focus on your work. Not work. You’re not getting paid for this. Stop thinking about that.

She’s got a mellow taste as far as you can tell. It’s got the tang you would expect, but it’s maybe a little musky. You don’t try to distract yourself, but trying to figure out how Yeri tastes the same way men’s cologne smells is really messing with your head.

It’s when her hips suddenly drop away from your hands that you realize she has been holding herself in place for several minutes. She’s breathing heavily and she doesn’t fall only because her leggings are caught on your shoulders. She doesn’t seem seriously exhausted or anything though. Maybe this was just the first rep.

“Tired?” you ask anyway.

“I also want to try pet play.”

You stare down at Yeri. You’re sure you heard the words that came out of her mouth correctly, but they weren’t the answer to your question. “So… hang on. Back up. What?”

“You know. Meow.” Holding herself up with one hand, she uses the other to make the classic neko paw.

You tilt your head and rub your temples. “Alright. Um, I think we should probably work out what’s really happening here. You gave me a lot to work with.”

Yeri hoists her legs back over your head and stands on the bench again, kicking her leggings off the rest of the way. “Yeah! What do you think? Those are my ideas!”

“They are varied.”

“Is that good or bad?” Suddenly Yeri looks embarrassed again.

“No! They’re good! I’m not here to kink shame you. I don’t know if I’m really into all of that, or if they can all be incorporated into a single session, but I’m totally up for some of it.”

Session? This isn’t an appointment, and this isn’t my job! you think, furiously. You’re suddenly worried if every minor reference to work or professionalism is going to sound like it’s connected to sex from now on.

Yeri smirks, “Oh, okay. That’s fair. Anything sounds good! What do you want to do… with me?” She punctuates the last two words by grabbing her tits and winking at you.

Deadline for this vote is 12/20 at 12:00 UTC! No guarantees on how fast Part 4 will come out, but work should slow down soon, and it’s not like I’ll be going anywhere for a holiday because of this virus, so you can probably expect Part 5 and maybe also another short over that weekend! Options for Part 3: 1. (Picked:) Workout sex sounds like it will wear you out, but getting sweaty with a partner has never been a problem before! 2. Pet play? What was that meow about?! Maybe you want her to play a cat, or you can convince her she'd be something else? 3. Oh fuck, right. Yeri likes vampires. Bite her. [Warning for blood stuff, though not super gory or anything Red Flavor joke]

~~~~~

“Tell me more about this workout sex,” you say. To avoid letting the mood die down any more than your confusion already might have you inch forward, one hand on Yeri’s breast, the other wrapping around the small of her back. You pull her in closer toward you and put your mouth to hers.

Yeri hums into your kiss. She takes a moment to enjoy it before she pulls back. “It’s exactly what it sounds like, like what I said.” She comes in for a couple more small kisses and continues, “I work out. While I do that, you fuck me.”

You bring her back into the kiss, keeping it chaste for now. At least, as chaste as you can get while you’re more than half naked and she’s completely naked and you’re discussing exactly how you’re about to bang.

“I can start over there and bench while I suck your cock.”

You moan your agreement into another kiss.

“Then I can do my squats on it while you take your turn benching.”

You moan your “Huh?” into another kiss.

“Then you can do your squats by pile driving me into the floor.”

So it seems she plans on you working out too.

“So? Are we going to do this?” Yeri holds you back.

You take a deep breath. Whatever higher power you believe in has brought you this far. You’re not going to let it down.

“Why don’t you get down there and find out?”

Yeri practically jumps across the room. She grabs a couple of dumbbells and immediately gets into bench press position.

When you walk over, ditching the rest of your clothes on the way, Yeri looks up at you and smirks. She wiggles the weights around and, in a sing-song voice, says, “Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb.”

You stand above her, unsure how to respond.

“Get it? Dumb Dumb? Dumbbells? The weights?”

“Uh, no?”

“What?! That’s like, a classic!”

“Is that one of yours?”

“Yes! You haven’t heard it?!”

“You just called your own song a classic.”

Yeri rolls her eyes. “Not classic as in old. As in-- I’m about to suck your dick, so laugh at my jokes.”

That makes you actually snort back a laugh. “Okay, I guess I get it now.”

She smiles and hangs her head off the edge of the bench. You make your way next to her head and she licks her lip at the sight of your dick at nearly her eye level.

“Just don’t go too hard okay? I’ve got a gag reflex.”

You crouch just enough so that your dick touches her lips, which she happily opens. The moment her tongue reaches out and touches you, you feel a bit weak in the knees. How you’re going to keep this up and also do real exercise, you have no idea.

Yeri cautiously starts pumping her weights up and down at her sides. You take the same slow pace with moving back and forth. After the mention of her gag reflex you don’t dare thrust for real, keeping it to an inch or so at a time. Yeri more than makes up for the lack of depth with her tongue though, twirling and curling it around randomly.

Thankfully there’s a bar across the bench that you can lean on to prevent a total collapse. Just beneath your head, you watch as Yeri’s chest and arms flex to push the weights up, then relax and spread out as she lowers them. The steady motion, the subtle definition of her body, and her heavy tits are a sight to behold, and so behold it all you do.

Yeri’s tongue sweeps across the bottom of your dick, and you feel a burning desire to be deeper inside of her. You decide to try your luck and push forward a bit farther. She doesn’t so much as lose the tempo in her lifting, so you go farther. Too much more and you’re sure you’re going to hurt her, but her legs are spread to either side of the bench, leaving something else open that you could probably get much deeper in.

You’re suddenly jolted back to awareness by the sound of weights slamming to the floor. Yeri grabs your hips and holds you tightly in place. You think she may have forgotten about the exercise after all with how intensely she’s sucking. But then, she pushes you away and gasps for air.

“That’s one set down!” She grins up at you and strokes your dick.

“Isn’t it bad etiquette to drop your weights like that?”

“Personal, private gym, remember? My gym, my rules.”

“Well not to break your rules, but I want to try something else in your next set.”

“Why? Didn’t you like that?”

“Oh I did, but that’s just the problem. You’ve got me worked up now, and I’m having a hard time holding back.”

Yeri gulps, and you see her whole body shiver. “I-I mean, I’ll try.” She picks her dumbbells off the floor and lays back again, sticking her tongue out and opening her mouth wide.

“I didn’t mean deepthroat! I just meant I wanted to fuck your pussy.”

You aren’t sure if Yeri’s sigh is one of disappointment or relief. “Ah, I see. Well by all means go for it!”

She scoots herself down the bench so her head isn’t hanging off and starts her next set. You walk around her slowly, just taking in the sight, admiring her again. She’s clearly used to the exercise, because her skin is just barely starting to show a few dots of sweat.

Once you’re between her legs, it’s a simple matter to crouch again just a little to maintain the correct height. You couldn’t see it from your previous angle, but Yeri is soaking wet. It’s only been a few minutes really, but already there’s a puddle underneath her. You mentally give yourself a pat on the back for contributing to that.

Yeri’s entrance is tight, but pushing into her is smooth sailing with how much natural lube she’s producing. Every time she lifts her weights, her muscles tense and she subtly clenches down around you. You might have thought this was a weird concept to begin with, but you’re definitely on board now. Not quite in time with her lifts, you thrust in and out. Looking down, you can see her toes curling. She’s clearly putting in a lot of effort not to squirm out of position.

“Seems like you’re having fun, huh?”

You don’t get an answer. You’re slightly annoyed that she seems to be ignoring you, but you realize she’s probably trying to count reps. But it would be fun if you could make her lose track…

You put your hands on either side of the bench and get a good grip, preparing to turn into a fucking machine.

Unfortunately, you’re the one who gets a surprise when Yeri drops her weights again. Her head shoots up to yours for a needy, open-mouthed kiss. Her damp body presses against yours.

“This is...” she says between the moments she has her tongue in your mouth, “so much better… than trying it… with a dildo!”

You try to push Yeri away so you can get a word in, but her arms and legs are both clamped around you. You give in and lower her down so she’s on her back again, putting you right where you need to be so you can roll your hips.

Yeri squeals and her grip on you gets even tighter. “More!” she shouts when she pulls away for a half a second.

You strain to get your hands under her arms and break out of her grasp. Her nails rake across your back quite painfully as you do, but you manage to pin her arms to her sides. She glares up at you, biting her lip and giggling.

“More?” she asks this time.

“Don’t you have one more set to do? Isn’t three sets a thing?”

Yeri scowls. “I changed my mind. It’s your turn to bench. I need to do my squats right now.”

You roll your hips again. You watch, amused, as Yeri’s fingers clench at the air over and over again. You’re a little worried about what might happen when you let her go, considering she seemed to have some kind of blood fetish. But then again, she might just not be trying all that hard to get away. She’s the one with a fairly athletic career and a workout plan after all.

Even so, you can’t help but tease her with another roll of your hips. You have difficulty finding your own words with how good she feels, tight around your cock. “It was your idea to get fucked while you worked out. I’m just holding you to your word, you know.”

A sly smile curls across Yeri’s face, though it trembles when you grind into her again. “I’m keeping my word! I normally only do two sets at a time!”

“I’m not so sure I believe that.” Her legs let up a bit, so you use the leeway to get in a short thrust.

“You calling me a liar?”

“Of course not. Why would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t call me a liar you get to pick what hole I fuck you with while you’re benching.”

She makes a valid argument.

Deadline for this vote will be 12/26 at 6:00 UTC (just in case some of you will be too busy the day before with holiday stuff) Options for Part 4: 1. No complaints from you if she continues with her pussy! 2. Then again, you’ve got a thing for anal, and she’s offering. 3. She could give you a blowjob. It seems like she wants the practice. 4. (Picked:) But also… Yeri is the first person in one of these stories with big enough boobs for a titfuck.

~~~~~

“Well since you’re definitely done with your sets, and since you’re not lying, you wouldn’t mind titfucking me?”

A few quiet moments go by. Yeri puts a hand on her chin, looking down between your bodies, then to her boobs, then at the dumbells on either side of her. She reaches down to grab the weights again.

“There’s lube in my bag. Grab that first.”

You smile and pull out of her pussy, which makes both of you take a sharp breath at the same time. “Doing more benches huh?”

“Well obviously. This is workout sex. I can’t give you a tit job while I’m squatting, so the best solution is for me to focus extra hard on my arms - which is definitely more than I normally do - so you can stand over me.”

Her bluff is pretty obvious, but it’s amusing, and you’re still getting what you asked for so you’re not going to push your luck by calling her out. This is something you’ve been trying to convince Yerin to try for a while, but she’s brushed it off every time. So if you aren’t getting a boob job here, you’re not sure when or even if you’ll have the chance again.

The lube you find in Yeri’s bag is vanilla scented. While you take a moment to enjoy the smell, Yeri lies down and starts another set with her six kilo weights.

You move to stand over her chest and enjoy watching her muscles work again from a different angle. This time you watch her breasts in particular, putting a hand down to lightly cup one and brush your thumb over her nipple. Much like before, Yeri’s focus on her workout is uncanny. You can’t get her to break, so you decide to help yourself.

You pour a generous amount of the lube into Yeri’s cleavage, smearing it all over. Your dick is still wet from her pussy, but this stuff will certainly last longer. The pleasant smell and the sight of her wet breasts turn on your instincts again. You lower yourself until your dick is resting on her, and you squeeze her tits together.

It’s not nearly as tight as anything else you’ve experienced today, of course, but it’s no less of an incredible feeling. When you start to move back and forth is when you realize how heavenly it is, even if it involves some extra effort. As you slide through Yeri’s cleavage, you notice the tiniest glance down from her. Is she losing her focus?

You smirk and reposition your hands a bit so you can casually rub her nipples between your fingers. Again, a small glance down. This time, it’s accompanied by the corners of her lips moving up.

“If you’re enjoying this already, wait until your hands are free to help out.”

“Ssshut up.”

Her arms tremble for a second. It would make sense if she’s getting distracted by the fact that she’s working out. But she hasn’t done that much, has she? Six kilos isn’t too crazy for an athletic idol like herself. You take a look over to the side again when her arms come all the way up.

There’s a mostly worn off line right before the six. She’s lifting nearly triple what you thought she was. Suddenly, you find yourself concerned with where they might land if she drops them again, given where your feet are, and you resolve to not distract her anymore.

That doesn’t mean you’re going to stop the titfucking of course.

You shift your feet back a little and have to lean forward, but you manage to get back into rhythm quickly. You slide in time with her lifting. The next time you look at her face, Yeri’s eyes are screwed shut and she’s biting her lip.

You aren’t able to contain a groan, and her eyes snap open and look into yours. She gives you a smile and after one last pump of her weights, she tosses them (thankfully) to the sides. Her hands clasp over the top of yours. Her breaths are labored, but she speaks through them just fine.

“I’m helping now. What am I waiting for?”

You pull one of your hands from under hers. It takes you no time at all to find her clit. Her knees come up to trap your arm there, as if you needed the additional encouragement. You circle it slowly with your fingers.

“Oh, I see now.” Yeri’s voice is quiet and her mouth quivers. She looks down at your cockhead poking out of her cleavage with hunger in her eyes.

You take your other hand away from hers, but only so you can put it back on top, where you guide her into kneading her breasts around your dick. She quickly picks up on the hint and squeezes down. She even takes the initiative and lifts her head to try to lick you as you thrust.

Unfortunately, she can’t quite reach, but you’re not going to let her effort go to waste. You hover your now free hand next to her pouty lips. You quickly go back in your mind to when she was very interested in biting, but you’ve already sealed your fate, and her mouth is wrapped around two of your fingers.

Something about watching her dutifully crushing her tits against your thrusting dick and sweetly sucking on your fingers with her eyes closed sets you off. You barely have the time to say, “I’m cumming.”

In that moment, Yeri’s eyes reopen and catch yours. She makes no move to change what she’s doing. So with one last thrust, you groan in ecstasy and orgasm.

Your cum first hits the bottom of her chin, then lands on her neck, then seeps out onto her chest, directed into different directions by her collarbone. She hardly reacts where you can see it, keeping her eyes locked onto yours and wrapping her tongue around your middle finger.

On the other hand, literally, her legs wrap around your arm and roughly pull your hand until it’s fully connected with her pussy. Your brain is still in a mid-orgasm haze, but it’s easy enough to realize what you’re supposed to be doing. You oblige, dipping two fingers inside her. That gets a happy hum out of Yeri, which you feel directly vibrating up your hand.

After you blink the stars out of your eyes, you look down and see that Yeri is scooping at your cum to bring it to her mouth. She sucks it in without letting go of your fingers. You would protest at the awkwardness of feeling your semen being swirled around your knuckles, but the greediness she displays is way too sexually charged for you to care about things like that anymore.

Eventually, she vacuums all of it down and off your hand, swallows, and releases you. She gives you an expectant look, eyebrows raised and mischievous smile plastered across her face.

You continue to finger her, but her eyes don’t move from yours. “Um. Wow, damn,” you say, not sure what else she wants.

Yeri’s eyebrows go higher. “You’re not going to mention…”

“Your amazing body? Or how hot it is when you’re sweating like that?”

Her smile turns into an absolute shit-eating grin. “Protein shakes are good after exercise!”

You bite your cheek to keep from… laughing? An exasperated sigh? You’re not sure, with how terrible and cliché of a line that would have been.

“Yup. Definitely something like that.”

Yeri giggles and pushes you back so she can sit up. She takes the hand you were fingering her with now. “So you still up for more? Joy says Yerin says you can usually go more than once.”

She starts to lick her juices off of your hand. You can’t help but admire her weird pervertedness.

Deadline for the Part 5 vote will be 1/1 at 12:00 UTC (because I am guaranteed not to work that day!) Options for Part 5: 1. Of course you’re still up for more, as long as you don’t have to deal with more of this workout bullshit! 2. (Picked:) You’ll do more, but only after she does the squats she said she was going to do. She doesn’t get to half ass her workout just because you’re here! 3. Nope. You’re out of here. See you around, sloot! 4. Maybe. But you'd actually like to maybe get to know Yeri a little first? You kind of jumped into this real fast.

~~~~~

“What? You’re already done with your workout? You’ve barely done anything though.”

Yeri gives you a dirty look. “I’d normally do more, duh. But you’re here right now.”

“Yeah, to fuck you while you work out.”

“Yeah, which you did.”

“Did you cum?”

“No, but that’s fine. I got what I wanted.”

“Do you want to?”

Yeri looks over at the squatting rack, chewing her lip. “I wouldn’t mind, but it’s hard to make me cum. And it would be dangerous while I’ve got something really heavy on top of me.”

“Challenge accepted then.”

She raises her eyebrows at you.

“You go hard on the rest of your workout and I’ll do the best I can to make you cum once you’re done.”

Yeri doesn’t say anything. She walks over to the rack though, and leans back against it. She looks you up and down, straight-faced.

“If you don’t cum, it’s not like you’re not getting your money’s worth.”

She still says nothing, her eyes landing on your dick.

“Because you’re not paying me for this. Because I’m not a prostitute…” You shrug, unsure of how to proceed when you’re being stared down naked.

“Let’s do it. I want to see if you can do it.”

“If I can? Well, what is it that makes it so hard to make you cum?”

Yeri bends over to grab some weights to put on the bar. “I dunno. If I knew, I wouldn’t have the problem.”

“You nervous?”

“It’s not like I haven’t had sex before.”

“Uncomfortable maybe?”

“No, I’m fine. A bit restless, but who isn’t?” Yeri stands under the bar, adjusting herself so her back is comfortably in the curve.

“I know a couple other people like that. We’ll do a little bit of experimenting. Maybe it will work, maybe it won’t.”

“Good enough for me.”

“Good enough huh?”

“Yup.”

“Sounds unenthusiastic. You sure you’re up for it?”

“I asked you for another round, remember? I just don’t want you getting your hopes up.”

You laugh. “Everything I could have hoped for is standing in front of me nude and about to do squats.”

Yeri chuckles and picks the bar off the rack. “Greasy.”

You just smile and watch as she does the first squat. It looks effortless. You don’t know enough about form to judge it, but it seems like it’s been practiced for quite some time. It’s smooth on the way down, and smooth on the way up. Graceful, even.

The grace of the action is slightly undercut by the fact that she is of course still naked, a little sweaty, and her chest is completely covered in lube. But that makes it no less attractive to you.

As she does more, you walk around, getting a good view from every angle. The mirror wall ensures that if she wants to, she can see you as well. But she seems focused again, staring herself in the eye.

Her breaths are labored. She inhales deeply as she goes down and exhales loudly as she comes up. Her skin starts to glisten all over as her effort comes out in her sweat. You reach out to touch her, but you suddenly get an idea and step back. Shortly after, she sets the bar back on the rack with a heavy sigh.

“What’s up? You can touch. It’s encouraged.”

You go back to her purse and pull out a water bottle you had seen earlier. “I’m going to hold off on touching you for a minute. I like this. I’m changing the plan. I’m not touching you until I can see how much effort you’re putting into this.”

A smirk creeps up one side of Yeri’s mouth. “You’re on,” she says. She catches the water bottle when you toss to her and takes a swig from it. Then she puts another five kilogram weight on either side of the bar.

As she gets into the next set, you move next to her and sit down on the floor. “Look at these hard-working legs,” you say. She didn’t respond the last time you talked to her, but she can still hear you… you assume. This is mostly just you saying your thoughts out loud, but you hope she’s paying attention.

“Taking on all of this to maintain the look of a perfect idol, but healthy. Damn, I would kill for your dedication.”

Glancing at the mirror you see another tiny smile on Yeri’s face.

“What would you say the ratio is? Your effort and practice versus your natural talent. What amount of each is it that makes your performances look so easy? Because watching you right now it has to be at least sixty percent or more in favor of the exercise.”

You reach out again like you’re going to touch her as she comes down, but you keep your hand just far enough away.

“And not just what you do, but the way this body of yours looks. If I wasn’t watching you sculpt it right now, I’d have figured it was sculpted by some Greek god. Belongs in a fucking art museum if you ask me.”

Your hand hovers extremely close to Yeri’s leg. You can actually feel the heat of her body, way above what you’d normally feel coming off a person. It’s like she’s a human furnace. And the amount of sweat on her is very noticeable now.

The bar catches on the rack again and Yeri bends over to grab the water again, drinking a few more swallows of it this time. “Museum my ass,” she says through a breathy laugh.

“That’s what I’m saying! One more set, right?”

Yeri stretches her arms, prompting you to wonder why she didn’t stretch before the workout. Your narrator says you shouldn’t think about it because it’s really hard to remember all of those kinds of details, and that’s not the point of word porn. But yes, you should be careful and stretch before working out.

“That’s right. I hope you’re ready to go again because I’m seriously wanting more.”

“Absolutely,” you say. You stand up and run a hand over Yeri’s butt and up her back, pressing roughly. “I don’t think I’ve even gone soft once since I had this scene in front of me.”

Yeri groans and rolls her shoulders as you touch them. “I can stop now, you know. I could go for the fucking right now.”

“I know, I know. But you’re not done yet. And I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying watching this.” You take your hand away and look Yeri in the eye via the mirror wall. “Hell, I might just have to convince you to do more.”

Without another word, Yeri gets underneath the bar again and picks it up. “If you’re so eager to see more, then…” She cuts herself off and dips into another squat.

Your eyes trace her from the floor up as you circle around. Yeri's thighs tremble from the weight. Her ass spreads from the movement. Her chest heaves from her breaths. Her lips part in just a way that you consider telling her to drop the bar so you can kiss her, but you're committed to watching her finish.

Rather than tempt yourself with the sight of her lips, you look up at her eyes. But you quickly regret it, as she looks back at yours. Her normally bright, mischievous eyes turn into black holes that you can't escape from. You feel a drop of your own sweat curl its way down your cheek.

“Holy shit, Yeri. I can’t wait to fuck you again, but at the same time, seeing this is too incredible to stop.”

Yeri is the one who breaks the gaze first, scrunching up her eyes. You look down again to see the trembling in her legs has gotten pretty bad.

"This is more weight than you usually use, huh?"

"Y-yup."

"How many left?"

"Three."

"Five."

"What the fu--"

You interrupt her with a kiss, since she's fully upright. The heat of the fire inside her drafts into your mouth. You don't want to stop, but you manage to pull away. "Just do five."

She looks up at you, her mouth gaped open. "Kay,"

As Yeri dips down, you walk around her again. Behind her, you put your hands out over her shoulders to spot her when she's back at your height. "Four more."

Yeri glances at you in the mirror, but quickly shuts her eyes again and goes down. You follow to make sure she's safe, but keep your hands off the bar.

Back at the top again, you continue the countdown. "Three."

Yeri doesn’t open her eyes this time. You just follow her down again, lightly resting your wrists against her shoulders to make sure she knows you're there. Her whole body is quivering as she rises again.

She gasps loudly when she's upright. "Keep breathing," you remind her, "Only two more."

"Shit," is the one word she gets out before she goes again. There's a moment when she reaches the bottom that she hesitates, and you fear she's going to drop the bar. You brace your arms, but Yeri clearly isn't one to disappoint. She rises again, shaking like a leaf.

You feel a little bad when she's all the way up again, as she is clearly already beyond what she's comfortable with. Even so, you're confident you can keep her from hurting herself, so you lean forward next to her ear and say very softly, "Just one more."

It seems she's got nothing more to say, because she immediately goes down for the last squat. You nearly lose your balance following her this time.

She squirms as she starts to lift herself up for the last time. The sweat practically pours off of her.

Her form must be a little off too, because the bar knocks against one of the middle rungs on the rack. She jerks back. A struggled croak comes out of her throat, and you can see her face screwed up in the mirror, with the tiniest bit of black eyeliner running down one side of her face. You're just about to grab the bar and push it up the rest of the way, but you barely have the time to make the move when she huffs and practically jumps up the rest of the way.

The bar lands on the rack safely, but Yeri's knees buckle and she starts to collapse forward. Thankfully with how close you are, you're able to catch her almost immediately, and avoid smacking your head on the bar too.

Her skin, even through her sweat, is practically hot enough to burn your hands. You help her lay down on her back and grab her water bottle, opening it and holding it ready.

Despite your concern, you're feeling extremely turned on. Her beautiful chest rises and falls rapidly. Her whole body absolutely shines. And on her face, closed eyes and a satisfied smile.

You put the water bottle to her lips and tilt so just a little trickles into her mouth. "Stay hydrated," you say simply. Yeri complies and gulps down the stream of water.

When you take away the half empty bottle, Yeri groans and uses her arm to roll herself onto her stomach. "Fuck me already."

That's a request you're happy to fulfill. You position yourself over her and spread her ass apart with your thumbs. Your dick is still covered in lube from earlier, and she's pretty slippery right now too…

A pleased hum from Yeri is the last encouragement you need, and you slide into her ass much more easily than you would have expected. Yeri's moan is muffled by the floor.

"So I keep going, eh?"

"Mmmfffmm."

You lift her pelvis up a bit so you can get a hand underneath and on her clit like before. You rub slowly, to match the slow thrusting into her ass. She doesn't move at all, but her moans keep coming. Much like earlier, her pussy is absolutely drenching your hand, so you assume you're doing something right.

Now that you're in full contact with her body, you can feel her heat again. It's hot enough to be uncomfortable, but considering what you just convinced her to do, you don't think your comfort is worth stopping for.

"How do you feel?" you ask.

Yeri lifts her head enough to respond coherently. "My legs fucking hurt."

You chuckle. "Yeah, sorry about that. You just looked so good doing that. Do you need some time to cool do--"

"Don't you dare get off of me."

"Woah! Noted. Nice."

Yeri rests her head on her arms. "The burn is worth it."

"Good to hear. I enjoyed it too."

"Oh? You didn't do much though. After this," she takes an extra deep breath. Whether it's because of something you did or her exhaustion you're not sure. "After this, you can do an actual workout you know. I think it's only fair if you take a turn, right?"

Ummm… is it fair?

Literally only even putting this in because this part was starting to get too long and I need to try to keep them short for my own sanity LOL *dies inside*. So the deadline for Part 6 will be Jan. 4th at 12:00 UTC. Options for Part 6: 1. (Picked:) Of course! You’ve been looking forward to your chance this whole time. You’ll happily get your lift on! Save you a trip to your gym! 2. Sure, if you have to. But maybe it’s something you can discuss when you’re not in the middle of this? 3. You don’t want to work out. That wasn’t exactly what you had planned when you came in, but you’re not going to say that now. 4. No way. You’re here to fuck Yeri. If you’re going to work out, you’ll do it on your own time!

~~~~~

In the time it takes you to pull almost all of the way out and slide all the way back in, you’ve made a decision. “Yeah, fuck it. Maybe you can give me a solid tip or two. I could probably use the exercise anyway.”

“I don’t know. Feels like you’re fine to me, but I’m happy to help if I can.”

“Aw, how flattering. And to think I considered saying no.”

Yeri fidgets a little bit. “That would have been okay. Either way, I don’t want you to stop what you’re doing now.”

“That’s good. Because I don’t want to.”

“But don’t forget. It’s okay if I don’t cum.”

“You know, that’s alright. I’m just going to make this as pleasurable for you as I can while I have you underneath me. Let’s not worry about the orgasm right now.”

Yeri holds her head up long enough to look at you in the mirror and say, “Oh my, you caught on. Thank you. But about the orgasm… I do like the idea of your cum in my ass.”

You’re not going to bother arguing against that. If that’s what she wants, you’re happy to provide.

You give Yeri’s ass a few more long, slow, languid thrusts. All the while, you keep a steady pace on her clit.

For as tired as she must be, Yeri doesn’t leave all of the work to you. She grinds her hips in tiny circles and clenches down on her pelvis. She must be doing some kind of exercise for that too, because you know for a fact both Eunha and Yerin have never been able to do that quite as effectively as Yeri is now (though you do feel a sense of deja vu and the name Seungyeon briefly pops into your head). You have to pause each time she does it, and you’re not sure if you’re annoyed by it or if it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced.

At the end of an extra long stroke, Yeri reaches behind herself and lays her wrist on the back of your neck, pulling you down so your mouth is next to her ear. You take it as a hint, so you nibble and kiss around the outer edge.

Yeri giggles in a low tone. Her fingers stretch their way into your hair and lightly scratch back and forth.

The sensual tone of the moment overtakes your sensibilities for just a second. Just long enough for you to back up and drive in with one powerful thrust. You hear Yeri’s breath catch in her mouth and you bite down where her shoulder meets her neck, just above and behind her collarbone.

It wasn’t your intention to bite especially hard, but you were a little caught up. Yeri’s caught breath turns into the very first bit of a scream before it catches once again. Her fingers spasm on the back of your head, and every other part of her body that’s in contact with yours tenses up.

You also don’t intend to stop. You don’t quite pound into her the same way, but you do move faster than you were moving before. You change your angle to be more vertical, and you manage to get a couple of fingers around Yeri’s clit.

“Oh god,” Yeri manages to say.

Her ass clenches down on your cock painfully hard. Her whole body freezes up, and the hand on your head feels like it’s stuck. You’re just able to keep thrusting. It seems that’s exactly what you needed to do, too.

Yeri screams out incoherently. You’re a little thankful that she’s facing away from you and into the floor, because you feel like you might have lost your eardrums otherwise. Even as it is, your ears hurt.

Her hand falls away and pats the floor. Her voice is much weaker now. “I came… I came,” she mutters.

You cock an eyebrow up. It wasn’t as hard to make that happen as you were led to believe, especially for anal sex. Fully hilted in, you grind your hips around. “That was easy.”

“Shut uuup,” her voice sounds hoarse. You look to the side to make sure the water didn’t get knocked over at any point, because you get the feeling she’ll need it. “It doesn’t usually happen… like that.”

“What do you think was different?”

“I don’t know… the clit stuff maybe?”

“You don’t get your clit played with often?”

“No, I… I said shut up! Can you… let me up?”

You hold back a laugh and do as she asks. Untangling yourself is slightly difficult with her dead weight on your arm, but you help out by pulling her over onto her back and handing her the water bottle.

Looking down at your hand now that it’s free, you see it’s completely soaked. You must not have noticed how wet she was getting with all of the heat and being distracted by the intense fucking. And right where she was just lying down, there’s practically a lake. You’re not sure where her sweat ends and where her sexual fluid begins (but you have a pretty good idea).

Yeri drags herself up into a sitting position against the squatting rack and finishes off the rest of the water. “Well now my legs and my ass are going to be sore for days. Good thing I’m only MCing stuff I can sit down for.”

“Are you going to be okay with that? After that scream, your voice is a little bit…”

“Yeah, I’ll just tell them I’ve got a little cold. They’ll buy anything.”

The two of you smirk at each other.

“God damn though, that was good. Is it weird to say thanks for that?”

You chuckle. “Nah. And you’re welcome. Will you need more water?”

“I’m dehydrated as fuck now, so yes. But there’s a vending machine right down the hall. But this was enough to hold me over for a minute. What are you looking to do?”

Yeri gestures around the room. There’s quite a bit of equipment you could try out.

This will be another short vote period! Voting will close on 1/6 at 12:00 UTC. Options for Part 7: 1. The bench is free. That’s pretty basic stuff, and probably where you’re most confident in showing off. 2. She’s got a leg press machine so you can destroy your legs like Yeri just did. Actually that would have been very convenient earlier… 3. (Picked:) Try your hand (and the rest of your body) at pilates! You don’t know what to do, but you’re sure to get a laugh! 4. You lied! You’re out of here! HA!

~~~~~

You point up at the pilates setup and Yeri laughs.

"Yeah! This will be great! You're totally the graceful type."

You're not sure if that's sarcasm you detect in her voice, but you shrug it off. Her laugh is what you wanted to hear and you're already successful in that.

"Oh of course," you say with a very false confidence, "You know they call me the pilates master? Because they do."

You step over and lift yourself onto the device. You grab a hold of it the same way Yeri did before. At least, you’re close. You're not exactly sure.

Very carefully, you step your way up the bars and find yourself horizontal. Then you go further and completely lose your sense of direction, though you think you might be upside down. The blood rushes to your ears but you still hear the sound of Yeri giggling across the room.

“You weren’t kidding. That’s a super advanced move.”

“Yup. I invented it,” you say, pretending to be sure of yourself despite the disorientation, “I call this move the Reverse Crab with Lion Splash. It’s really good for your kneecaps.”

Looking up, or down, or sideways, one of those directions, you see an upside down Yeri covering her mouth to attempt to hold in her snickering.

You complete your sort-of backflip, so that you’re facing the padded table below you, your knees caught on the middle bar. You can feel your hamstrings, back, and shoulders straining to keep from falling right then and there.

Yeri’s barely contained laughter bursts out. You didn’t think it was that funny, but she’s an odd person, so you’re not surprised. Until, that is, she says, “You’re just freeballing up there with those gymnastics huh?”

It hits you that the sight of your lubed up and mostly softened dick flopping around as you awkwardly twist your way around the bars probably is fairly humorous. And a bit embarrassing to match. You suddenly feel a little bit self-conscious. And yet, you manage one last retort, “Uh yeah. Haven’t you heard of penilates?”

Yeri snorts and pats the floor. “You’re funny, you know that? I like it. Get back down here and I’ll show you how to do some basics if you really want to do pilates.”

Well, as long as she claims you’re funny.

You maneuver yourself out of the bars and drop off the rack. “Alright coach! What do I do?”

“First, come over here and lay down on your stomach. Put your hands to the sides like you’re going to do a pushup, but like, right under your shoulders.”

The lightly padded floor makes the action relatively comfortable. Yeri rolls on her hips so that she’s able to put a hand on the small of your back. A strangely comfortable chill runs up your spine at the feeling.

“Now push yourself up with your arms, but make sure your legs stay attached to the floor.”

You easily follow her instructions.

“Good!” she says cheerfully. She lifts your chin up, putting more of a stretching sensation on your chest. “Make sure you’re looking straight forward. This is called a Swan. It’s not a big deal, but it helps you with stretching out your core.”

“Yeah, I feel that for sure. I was expecting something a little more intense.”

“Most people are. Pilates is pretty easy though. Mostly.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the hard stuff?”

“Calm it down! We’ll get there. Probably not today though.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Because I’d like to do this with you and I can barely feel my legs.”

“Wow, I’m that good of a fuck?”

Yeri runs her hand over your butt. “Yup. It was all you and your sexual prowess and had nothing to do with anything else that happened since we got here.”

The two of you share a chuckle.

“So how long do I hold this?”

“About now would be good. For you, I’d say… do that for about thirty seconds at a time. And three times of course.”

“What if I normally only do two sets?” you ask as you lay yourself back on the floor.

She lightly smacks your ass. “Hey! What did we agree on about not calling me a liar!”

“Oh, sorry. I would never call you out for lying.”

“That’s… pretty much right. Now, up up!”

Once in your second Swan, you have a thought. “Hey, old reference at this point, but I’ve got a question about what you were talking about in The Lounge.”

“Shoot.”

“I asked why the three of you don’t just have sex with each other, and Seulgi said it was about wanting different things and being uncomfortable with it. So uh, have you tried to bite them before?”

“Oh god. Yeah, I tried that once or twice. Real good reactions out of all four of them.”

“Four?”

“Yup. Well, five. All five of us have tried having sex with each other. Still do sometimes, if we’re feeling desperate.”

“But you’re not into it?”

“Basically. Seulgi is in mad love with Wendy but she’s scared to admit it. Wendy is obsessed with Joy, but Joy is trying to convince herself that she’s straight. Irene and Wendy are both only interested in soft, nice sex, but they both want to be penetrated and can’t seem to get their act together with a double ended dildo. Seulgi wants to be a domme, but ever since Wendy was nearly murdered, she has to go easy on her hips. I’m totally into being dommed, but Seulgi is a wimp and when I talk back to her she gets all nervous and shit.”

You assume thirty seconds have passed, so you lower yourself to the floor again. You knew you would get some kind of explanation when you asked, but you weren’t expecting so much information. You think you may have already forgotten some of it.

Yeri keeps rambling, “Irene used to fuck Seulgi all the time, but during their sub unit promotions they got really busy with each other and I think they just kind of lost the mood, you know? Plus, now that Seulgi wants to explore her rougher side, Irene’s just not into it. Joy used to be the perfect fuck buddy for everybody because she was so good at accommodating everyone and enjoying it. Oh actually, she even did the pet play thing with me once! No clue what we were thinking though. I tried to be a puppy, but then I made a joke about Haetnim and that totally shut the whole thing down. And I’m pretty sure that it isn’t a healthy thing for Wendy, because of how hard she’s crushing for a quote unquote straight girl. But yeah, that’s the point with Joy. She’s claiming that she’s totally straight and started dating Cheungae, but I don’t know how long that’s going to-- Oh no, stay on your stomach.”

You had started to roll over after finishing your third Swan, but Yeri holds you back by your shoulder. “Next I’ll have you do a T.”

“A T? Like the letter T?”

“Exactly.”

“Is it like this?” You stick your arms straight out to either side and point your feet straight down, keeping your face on the floor.

Yeri laughs. “Basically, yes, but now pick your head, chest, arms, and legs up as far as you can, looking forward. Hold that for five seconds, five times.”

This move in particular is actually a bit harder, as it sounds like the only part of you meant to stay on the floor is your stomach.

“Sorry by the way. I rant on like a gossipy bitch sometimes. Was that too much information?”

The voting deadline for Part 8 will be 1/13 at 12:00 UTC! Options for Part 8 [IMPORTANT]: 1. “Well, it was maybe a bit much.” You can’t blame her for oversharing, but it’s no big deal. She seemed extremely eager to bring all that up, after all. 2. (Picked:) “Nope! In fact, tell me more!” Should you know all of this? No. Do you want to know more? Absolutely yes. 3. “Yeah, you really shouldn’t say so much.” It was pretty rude of her to say all of that stuff about her members’ personal relationships. Your question was much simpler than that.

~~~~~

"Nope! In fact, tell me more!"

Yeri chuckles. "Just as long as you don't spill any of what I tell you, alright? We could both get in some real trouble."

That's how secrets always work, right? You can keep the secrets and the non-secrets separate and never tell anyone anything that would be a problem, right? Yeah, no problem.

Right?

"Well, I don't think Joy's relationship is going to last much longer. She is trying really hard, but the strain is going to get to her. And one of our members is absolutely going to fuck her soon and restore the balance."

You snort, forcing you to put your hands and legs down. "Restore the balance? What is this, an epic fantasy novel?"

"You know what I mean! She's the perfect fucker or fuck toy for every member, and in the past, she's loved that. She told us so herself. But we've been together for years, so we know when she's not alright. About a month after she started dating Cheungae, she said she couldn't have sex anymore. And it's just been downhill from there. They're fucking each other, but she has said more than once that she misses fucking other people too."

"The things people do for the sake of relationships."

"Yeah, it's cute, but…" Yeri grips your ass cheek as you come out of your last T. "You know how freeing it is to not be in one."

You sigh, thinking for a second about something SinB told you. "Yup… but hey, has Joy talked to this guy about an open relationship? Or like some other kind of arrangement? Just taking a wild guess here, but I'd imagine any guy would die for a threesome with Joy and you."

"I offered. I heard from Wheein that Cheungae's got a dick the size of the DMZ, so I'm all for giving that a spin. Joy rejected the idea though."

"Damn, why?"

"Well Cheungae isn't the problem. Joy is. I don't know if it's selfishness or if she is just trying way too hard to make a normal relationship work, but she doesn't want to share, herself or her man."

"That sucks. I'm sorry."

"Ah, it's okay. Like I said, I don't think it'll last much longer. And as far as I'm concerned, I've got myself a solid replacement!"

"I'm not a commodity!"

"Sure, ho, sure." Yeri giggles and slaps your butt.

You reach between her legs and push a couple of fingers into her pussy. "Sounds like you're trying to get me mad."

"Why would I do that? You… degenerate sack of shit who can't even fuck the right hole?"

Suddenly, you hear the sound of Yeri's phone going off. It's Wendy's voice. "Are you ready for this? Zimzalabim!"

Yeri scowls. "Hurry up and pound my twat into the core of the planet."

You hold in a laugh and push Yeri onto her back and climb on top of her. Your sweat mixes with hers as you press your bodies together. She’s not burning hot like before, but she’s still pretty warm, and there’s certainly fire in her eyes as she pulls you to her lips--

“Are you ready for this? Zimzalabim!”

Yeri’s tongue invades your mouth forcefully. Your practiced cock finds its way into her with no trouble at all. There’s no hesitation from either one of you. She pulls you into her, and you--

“Are you ready for this? Zimzala-- Yeri! I’m calling you on the important line! Why aren’t you picking up?”

That doesn’t sound like a ringtone anymore. You pull away from Yeri’s kiss, but she suddenly sticks a finger against your cheek. “Don’t you dare stop. I don’t want to feel my legs.”

“Didn’t that already happen?” you ask, with no small amount of snark.

“Yeri? Are you still? Oh god. I’m sorry--” Static crackles through the speaker for a moment. “This must be really awkward for you.”

“Oh don’t mind me,” you say, “I’m just doing my job, apparently.” You back up just a bit and start thrusting hard and fast. Yeri’s breath gets pushed out of her with the force of the first one, but she quickly adjusts and matches your rhythm.

There’s a pause from Wendy. “O-okay. That’s good. I mean, wait! No! Yeri! Irene is on her way to pick you up to take you to the studio!”

“God- dammit- Wendy-” Yeri is having difficulty speaking, only managing to get a word or so out for each time you slam into her. “He’s so- fucking- good- Tell- her- to- wait!”

You could swear that you can hear Wendy blushing through the phone. “We can’t! You’ve got to record…”

“He doesn’t- care- about- spoilers!”

“I mean, I kind of do… How did the call start if we’re over here?”

“I had to install an app on her phone to automatically answer the call-- I mean, you’ve got to hurry and pack up! Irene is going to be there any second!”

Yeri whines in staccato, and is about to say something but is interrupted. And you’re suddenly forced to stop fucking her by a voice that chills your spine like being lost in a blizzard.

“Wendy’s right, Yeri. We’ve got to go.”

Looking to the side, you and Yeri both see Irene standing in the wide-open doorway. The lack of expression on her face is unnerving in a way you can’t accurately describe.

“Come on Irene, please! We can just record later! Just give us five more minutes!”

You feel like you could comment on the fact that Yeri sounds like she’s complaining to her mother to stay in bed, but Irene lifts her eyebrows a few millimeters and your motivation to make a joke is suddenly gone.

“Uuugh!” Yeri reluctantly, slowly, pushes you to the side.

Well, seems like that’s over with. But maybe you can convince Irene to let it not be over with… Or not. Hard to say.

The voting deadline for Part 9 will be 1/17 at 12:00 UTC! Options for Part 9: 1. Irene doesn’t scare you! Tell her you’re not done with Yeri yet! SM can wait for her! 2. Okay, Irene scares you. You should apologize and see yourself out of here. 3. (Picked:) Eh. No big deal. Yeri said that Irene is basically just the same as the other RV members.

~~~~~

You lean back against one of the vertical bars of the squat rack. The metal is very cold, making you flinch. But you play it cooler than the metal, propping your chin up on your wrist by putting your elbow on your knee.

“Hey Irene,” you say casually, as if you weren’t naked in front of one of the most powerful idols in the business, “How’s your morning so far?”

“It’s fine.” Irene is just as casual as you are. She seems more interested in watching as Yeri crawls around the gym on her arms, gathering clothes.

“So you have a new comeback soon, huh?”

Her eyes seem unfocused for a moment, as if she’d just spaced out.

“Oh. Yes,” she eventually says.

Irene’s not especially talkative, you surmise.

“Well, if the recording isn’t too urgent, you can hang out with us for a bit longer. I bet Yeri would be willing to share, assuming you were also wanting in on this situation.”

“Oooh, hey yeah. You want some Irene?” Yeri asks. A cheesy grin spreads across her face. “I got him all warmed up for you.”

Irene gestures softly at Yeri’s bra in the middle of the floor. Yeri rolls her eyes and reaches out for it.

“I appreciate the thought.”

You shrug and move to grab your own clothes. Putting them on feels gross considering the sweat and cum all over you. You resolve to take a shower as soon as you get home. “It was worth a shot.”

Yeri gets her sports bra back on and lets out a long sigh. “You sure though? My voice is a little fucked up right now. We could say I’m sick and that you’re just taking care of me like a good leader.”

“Yes. Let’s go.”

A woman of few words, this one.

With your legs fully functional, you’re able to finish dressing much quicker than Yeri, and approach Irene, giving her a standard bow. “Good to meet you, by the way. Sounds like you’ve already heard about me.”

“From Joy, yes.” Irene bows back to you. “Is it okay if I get your contact from Wendy?”

You blink in shock. That was easy enough. “Yeah, sure. Sounds good to me.”

Irene nods, expression still inscrutable. “Do you prefer calls or texts?”

“Either works for me.”

Yeri pops in. “He’s not actually a prostitute you know.”

For the first time, Irene makes a face you can decipher. It seems to be a bit of minor, subtle shock. “Oh, so this…” She points back and forth between you and Yeri. “Was for…”

You finish for her after she pauses. “The hell of it, yeah.”

“I paid you in salmon bagels,” Yeri says.

“Well that and a free pilates lesson, sure.”

The tiniest smile curls up the corners of Irene’s lips. “How fun.”

It gets silent again, besides the sounds of Yeri huffing as she works to get her pants back on.  You nod quietly, unsure of how to respond.

Thankfully, Irene looks you in the eye and motions for you to come closer, which you do. While Yeri is occupied with pulling her hoodie back over her head, Irene leans in close to you and whispers into your ear, so quietly it takes you a moment to process what she’s saying.

“I heard you earlier. Stay away from Joy.”

You back off again, a little struck by what sounded like a very calm threat.

“I’m parked downstairs Yeri. No more than five minutes, okay?”

“Oh come on, you tell me that now?!”

Without another word, Irene turns and walks back out the door. You’re still a little stunned, watching the back of her head, when she looks back over her shoulder and gives you a coy smile and a wink. Your head swims with questions.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring at the now-closed door, but you’re snapped out of it by a loud smack on the back of your jeans, just below your ass. Yeri’s next to you, keeping herself upright with her hand on the wall. “A little help here?”

You look down and see her legs are shaking like leaves. “Oh shit, yeah, I’ve got you.”

Scooping your arm under hers, you support as much of her weight as you can on your shoulder. It feels like she’s mostly able to stay on her feet on her own, but she definitely wobbles a bit.

“You going to be okay?” you ask once you’re in the hallway.

“Oh totally! I’ll be able to walk... mostly normally once we’ve reached the studio. But you know how it is. Squat until your legs give out and then immediately get ass-fucked to an unexpected orgasm, and that’ll give you a few minutes worth of trouble.”

“That’s not actually a sensation I’m familiar with.”

“Who knows? Maybe Seulgi will get her domme act together and then you will be!”

You’re not so sure how you feel about that.

“Hey by the way. Irene was asking about getting your number, right? Can I get it now? Faster than getting it from Wendy since she’ll probably be out all day.”

This will be the last vote for Yexercise! *Wipes away tears* The deadline for this vote will be 1/23 at 12:00 UTC, at which point we’ll be talking on the Discord server about what’s next! Options for Part 10: 1. (Picked:) Of course she can have your number right away! You had fun, she had fun, you should have more fun! 2. Don’t let this crazy have your contact info. In fact, you should let Wendy know to give her a fake number…

~~~~~

You don’t even need to say anything. You pull out your phone, open your contacts, and hand it to Yeri. She puts her info in and sends herself some random gibberish in a text.

“Awesome!” she says, slipping the phone back into your pocket expertly as you make your way down the hall together, “No requests for sleazy pictures though. Can’t have anything getting out if something happens to your phone. Or mine.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream-- well, I would dream of it. But I won’t ask.”

Yeri giggles. “Ah, hey. The water’s right there. Wanna stop for just a second?”

At the machine, Yeri swipes her key card just like she did at the door to the gym. It only contains what you recognize as the cheap water brands, unsweetened tea, some dried fruit snacks in plain packaging, and a variety of protein bars. There’s no indicator for payment anywhere though.

“Perks of the personal, private gym?” you ask.

“Perks of the personal, private gym,” Yeri says.

A couple of water bottles are pushed out at arm’s height. Yeri hands one to you, takes the other for herself, and you both gulp down about half before continuing.

“I’ve got to say, I was expecting this to be one of those expensive waters. Blessed by monks, imported from Egypt, shit like that.”

Yeri smirks. “You know what they say. SM water tastes like water. No reason to spend wastefully.”

She finishes her water off, and you get to the stairwell. You think that three flights of stairs might be a little difficult at the moment, but fortunately there’s an elevator nearby you hadn’t noticed when you were following Yeri up earlier.

As you’re gradually taken to the ground floor, Yeri nudges your side. “If I ever share something juicy with you by the way, I expect at least five words in response. None of that ‘LOL’ followed by silence stuff.”

You laugh. “What if I can’t think of anything to say?”

“You can just bullshit an answer. No biggie.”

“What if my life is threatened because I know your gossip?”

“Your life, huh?”

“Well, not specifically. I just assume Irene will break every bone in my body. I guess I can live through that, right?”

“God, she better not be doing that again.”

You stare at Yeri. “Doing that again?”

“Making people uneasy. Point is, don’t worry about her. She’s just got a… uh, an unusual way of communicating, we’ll say.”

“Something like that, sure.”

Yeri puts her free hand on your chest. “She’ll warm up to you, I promise. I’ll put in a good word for you! As long as you do me one more favor.”

Anything to get a good word in to Irene so you don’t end up murdered. “What’s that?”

“Just give me one more, real good kiss in front of her. Right up next to the car window!”

You wrap your arms around her waist and shift Yeri so she’s in front of you. “Like this?” you ask, and half-lift her to your height. The moment your lips touch, you feel the elevator jerk to a stop and the door opens.

“Maybe a bit more than that, but I like where your head’s at.”

“It could be between your legs,” you say, mimicking Yeri’s seductive tone from earlier at The Lounge.

“Don’t tempt me like that!”

All smiles, you help Yeri feebly get outside. You spot a car with dark windows, where you can barely see Irene’s silhouette inside. It also happens to be the only car on the street, and Yeri easily confirms that it’s the correct one.

Yeri is thankfully able to stand on her own once you get to the passenger side. You open the door for her, but before she gets in, you spin her to face you and dive in for a real kiss. She moans and her arms wrap up under your shirt instantly, so you respond by sliding one hand down the back of her yoga pants. It should be right where Irene can see your fingers outlined through the fabric.

Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a reaction from Irene. You wonder what it will take to crack her neutral act.

“Mmm, even more than that next time, okay?” Yeri pulls away from you and turns to get into the car.

“Of course. I might charge you one extra water bottle next time though.”

“Uh-oh. I’ll be sure to save up for it.”

You laugh together before she sits down. You lean over to pop your head in after her. “See you next time then. And good to finally meet you Irene!”

Irene looks up at you from the book she was reading. “Hm? Oh yes, a pleasure.”

Yeri catches your gaze again. You can see the moment of sudden, unbridled thrill in her eyes, so you wait for her to say…“No Irene! The pleasure was mine!”

Her hand shoots up, and you meet it for an excellent, but questionably deserved high-five. Irene sighs heavily.

You laugh and back up again. “Nice one, Yeri. See you later.”

“See ya, ho!” Yeri shouts before closing the door. As is the case with Yerin, you’re pretty sure you’re stuck with nicknames like that from now on.

You wave the car goodbye and turn back around to make your way back home. You could use a shower.

THE END

~~~~~

Post-story notes:

Hey everybody! Thank you again for joining me for one of these crazy vote stories. I’ve really appreciated the participation, and I think we’ll be getting even more next time!

We’ll be discussing the subject and characters for the next story on the Discord. Suggestions so far include (forgive me if the capitalization is incorrect on these)… Dreamcatcher, WJSN, Mamamoo, Momoland, CLC, Oh My Girl, Lovelyz, more Gfriend, and Fromis_9! But nothing’s set in stone yet! Fill out the form in #announcements if you have even more suggestions to add to the hat.

As for when the next story starts, I’m going to say probably the first week of February. As you may have seen me mention, I’ll be writing some shorts just to spill some of my creative juices. On top of that, I quit my day job! Because I’m starting school! So exciting and nerve wracking! Given how stupidly stressful my day job was, I’m hoping I should be able to pump out stories a little more frequently moving forward.

The storyline unlocks from Yexercise are going to look pretty obvious: [Yeri - Workout buddy] [Yeri - Gossip girl]

And just like with Movie Night, here are some fun facts about unpicked options! At least one of you read these last time, and made a very astute observation about Sowon, so you’ll be getting your wish for that fairly soon.

Part 1. Picking Wendy or Seulgi would have (obviously) resulted in a different name for the story altogether! The names I had in mind weren’t finalized, but the top contenders were “Snow Day” for Wendy and “Dom-Flavored Pringles” for Seulgi.

Part 3. Yeri had two animals in mind for the pet-play: She could have been a cat or a cow. The option to be a puppy would have also been there, but she would have been skeptical about it given her history trying that with Joy.

Part 4. At first, I wasn’t planning on there being any anal in Part 6, but because the vote for Part 4 was SO close, I went back and changed my plans, just so y’all could get what you wanted. :P

Part 5. Again, just mentioning how close the vote was. I was very interested to see that for most of the voting period, the options to keep Yeri working out and to stop and just talk to her were neck and neck. I’m still feeling out what the best balance is between fluff and smut, and you guys are surprisingly wholesome!

Part 7. If you had chosen the leg workout, you’d have been too exhausted to help Yeri out of the gym, resulting in Irene rescheduling the recording session. She’d have stayed to hang out, and that would have blocked off the [Yeri - Gossip girl] storyline (which does have some smaller impact on the relationship with Irene moving forward as well, btw).

[formulawonu]

flutters / mick schumacher

(not my gif! creds to owner <3)

warning: kissing, getting a little touchy,, and just being flustered idk

summary: *requested by @gpiggy98​ <3* mick has just finished an intense race and you’re the only person he really wants to be around at the moment since you’re his best friend. you’ve secretly liked him for a while now and offer/give him a massage to cool down after the race and you can’t help but get flustered at the intimacy of the moment.

a/n: honestly. what would i give to have mick as my best friend. what would i give to basically have mick in my life. FOR REAL. ugh mick schumacher supremacy. anw i didnt know how to end this one properly so idk if im 100% satisfied but it was fun writing hsjakdhasd but enjoy anyway x (i’m always open to requests btw!!!!)

It’s the end of the Hungarian Grand Prix and you feel like you can finally breathe properly after a couple of hours. You’d think you’d have gotten used to going through race weekends by now but you always seem to find your breath caught in your throat and worrying over the safety of your best friend. Mick had finished in p12 - his current best finish throughout the season - and you were extremely proud of him. Despite how well he did defending from other cars on the field in the car he has, you can tell from the way his brows furrow together after removing his helmet that he’s far from satisfied. Watching him go through the procedure after each race required by the FIA from the garage, you decide to make your way back to the hospitality in order to not get into anyone’s way. You figured that you would just talk to Mick when he was free and tell him proud you are of him. What you were not expecting was Mick to show up at the hospitality earlier than you had expected, his body language clearly still tense, and motioning you with just his head to follow him up to his assigned driver’s room. He doesn’t really stop to wait for you or anything because he knows you understand that he doesn’t want to be around a lot of people right now. It leaves you feeling pleased that you’re still the one he wants to talk to. Perks of being his best friend.

“Hey, you.” You say as you enter Mick’s room, shutting the door behind you. You stand there for a while, leaning against the door as you take in Mick sitting down on the couch, his eyes shut with his head thrown back. His hair is all messy from wearing his helmet but it looks good anyway. You knew this wasn’t the right time to be thinking it, but you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t acknowledge how Mick made looking stressed extremely attractive. Sexy, even. Mick pops open one eye as he lazily looks at you. “I’m so frustrated.” He mumbles. He then pats the space beside him, telling you to come sit beside him. You make your way to the couch and plop down beside him, trying not to mind the way your heart beats faster as the distance between you both has marginally decreased. Immediately after and without warning, Mick drops his head on your lap. You want to blame the lack of AC for the sudden rise of temperature in the room you’re both in, but you know that the heat is really just rising in your cheeks as you imagine how close Mick is to your body. “I’m so tired.” He continues, shutting his eyes again. You can’t stop the way your heart is rapidly beating inside of your chest and you wouldn’t be surprised if Mick could actually hear it. The vibrations that come from Mick’s voice run through your whole body, leaving you to slightly shift your thighs closer together. You bring your hands to run through his hair, hoping to distract yourself from your own thoughts by giving him a small massage. Mick hums in response. You rub small circles into his temples, picturing him doing the same thing to you in another area of your body. You have to stop yourself there. You seriously cannot be thinking about this while you’re trying to distract yourself from the fact that Mick, your best friend, is all hot and sweaty. Well, there’s always points for trying. 

You don’t realize you’ve stopped the small massage you were giving him until you feel Mick’s hand grip your knee. “Why’d you stop? That felt so good.” The heat rushes to your cheeks and you can feel Mick’s eyes on your face. You can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes because you’re flustered at how dirty your thoughts had gotten because of a few words Mick had muttered in passing. The fact that his hand was still on your knee also did not help your case. It was something you had come to terms with a while ago: you deeply liked your best friend - that was why you were acting like this around him. You had tried your best to ignore the fuzzy feelings that came up every time you thought of him or the way your stomach would drop whenever he was around. You tried to deny and cover it up by saying you just really appreciated him as a person, but you eventually gave in and realized it was pointless to fight your feelings. It didn’t matter anyway. Mick was still your best friend, regardless of whatever feelings you had for him. 

“Oh. Sorry.” You mutter, still refusing to look at him as you try to will the heat in your cheeks to disappear. You knew not to make eye contact with Mick because those damn eyes knew you almost better than you knew yourself so meeting them would just spell out disaster for you. He would figure out something was off immediately. You begin moving your hands again through Mick’s hair, kneading in a new pattern. Your eyes land on the hand still resting on your knee. You focus on it as you continue to massage Mick when suddenly it begins to draw circles of its own nearer your inner thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat and you accidentally tug at Mick’s hair because of your unguarded reaction to his hand. You quickly look at his face to see if he’s felt that (though surely he has) and you find yourself looking into a pair of amused eyes. There’s a hint of playfulness in them as he’s probably made the connection that you are... well... currently going through it. “You okay, there?” He whispers, raising an eyebrow at you. You try to play it off, as you usually do. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I-” His hand moves higher up and you involuntarily pause. “-be.” You swallow and desperately try to focus on anything else but the hand that is now closer to you than you had ever imagined it to be. How white the wall is, how cool Mick’s helmet is, how comfortable the couch is. Mick suddenly shifts his position and the hand on your thigh disappears. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. The place where Mick’s hand once was now feels incredibly bare. Mick is still moving around until he’s positioned himself to be facing you, still lying down, with his head propped up by his hand. The arm propping his head up is over your legs - suddenly, you feel like you’ve fallen into a dangerous trap. 

“Hey there.” He whispers, smiling at you with those damn eyes filled with amusement. Like he knows. “Hi?” His free hand moves to trace lines up and down your arm. Goosebumps immediately come and you shiver. He smiles even wider, noting the way your body has unintentionally reacted to his touch. “Are you cold?” He continues to run a finger up and down your arm, mindlessly drawing his own patterns. His eyes never leaving yours. You know you should be answering him now, replying with anything really, but his hand has made its way back down and is now drawing circles on the part of your thigh he’s resting on. “Am- Am I what?” You ask, not remembering what he’s just said a few seconds ago. Your eyes move to glance at Mick’s hand then back to his face. Mick then fully sits up, this time lifting your legs to rest over his lap. “Something’s bothering you.” He says, gently turning your chin to have you face him. Your eyes land on his lips before you meet his eyes. “Not at all. I am just peachy.” He chuckles as you inwardly cringe, knowing full well that you didn’t sound convincing at all. What were you supposed to do when his other hand was now drawing those same distracting circles this time on your side. You had never been this close with Mick. You weren’t supposed to be this close to Mick. His eyes drop to your lips. “Can I try something to get whatever it is off your mind?” He whispers. You nod before you can think about what he’s just offered, too taken by how Mick’s face seems to be inching ever so closely to yours by the second. Your eyes flutter shut when you feel the touch of another pair of lips on yours. It starts out slow, almost shy, as if he’s checking to make sure you’re okay with what’s happening. But then you pull him closer to you, slightly parting your lips to invite him in. Your hands make their way around his neck and tugging at the ends of his hair. The pace has suddenly shifted and Mick has lifted you on top of him, letting you straddle him as he now moves his hands up and down the sides of your body. 

There was no way this was actually happening. All you wanted to do a couple of moments ago was tell Mick how proud you were of him. You push your body closer to his, trying to eliminate the almost nonexistent space between the two of you. Mick moans in your mouth, his hands gripping your waist tighter. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long.” He says in between kisses. He’s trailing kisses down your jaw then your neck. “Me too. You have no idea.” You breathe into his ear. You’re about to kiss him again when suddenly you hear a knock at the door. You both pause, looking at each other wide-eyed. 

“Mick, it’s Guenther. We need to debrief quickly. Won’t take long, I swear.” You slowly move off of Mick, trying not to make noise. You were sure no one thought you guys were doing anything weird anyway but you didn’t want to be caught looking like it. Mick is still sitting next to you, both of you trying not to laugh. It’s almost like he doesn’t want Guenther to think he’s in the room. “Mick,” You hear knocks coming from the other side of the door. “The earlier we start, the quicker you can get back. Hi to Y/N, who is in there too.” You both burst out laughing, the jig obviously up. Mick finally gets up, chuckling and accepting he has to go and start debriefing. 

“I’ll see you when I get back. Still need to get that thing off of your mind.” He says, winking at you as he steps out of the room. 

[reidgraygubler]

pretty little treat (hotchniss/reader)

title: pretty little treat 

Requested: no

Couple: Emily Prentiss/Fem!Reader/Aaron Hotchner

Category: SMUT

Content Warning: Sexual Content (daddy kink, lots of praise, lots of degradation, threesome (F/F/M), fingering, oral (fem), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, groping, heavy petting, teasing, hair pulling, penetrive/safe sex, implied condom use, D/s & BDSM themes, orgasm denial (1 instance), slight humiliation, fem masturbation, handjob), dirty thoughts, dirty talk, Dom!Emily, Dom!Aaron, swearing, Bi!Reader & Bi!Emily, kissing/making out, brief aftercare (consists of cuddling and praise), mentions of canon-consistent trauma (hotch’s injuries w/ foyet, emily’s injuries w/ ian doyle)

Word Count: 7,433

Summary: Emily brings home a little treat for her girlfriend.

A/N: in my rewatch I got to demonology and I suddenly wanted to write prentiss/reader/hotch smut. Thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins​ , @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff​ , and @reidetic​ for helping me come up with a few ideas and a few other nitty-gritty things. Please, this is just pure smut that i probably had way too much fun writing. I also… binged dharma and greg while i wrote this… so this is totally domestic!hotch too o.o  ALSO thank you to @princessmooshie and @newportonmymind​ for beta-reading this for me! I totally appreciate you!  ANYWAY, thank you all so, so much for all the love and support! I seriously hope you enjoy reading this! check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{**}

“I finished early. So I’m gonna go home.” I looked down at Emily as I wrapped my arms around her neck. She looked away from her file and turned her head to face me. 

“Okay, text me when you get home,” she whispered before pressing her lips to mine. I hummed as I leaned into her display of affection. “I have a present for you too. But you won’t get it till I get home… So don’t try looking for it.” She smiled before poking my nose. I wrinkled my nose before kissing her again. 

“Fine. I’ll see you in a bit,” I whispered as I looked at her with a soft smile. “Goodbye, BAU Family. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I stood up and looked at all the team members with a smile. 

“Have a nice night,” Aaron said as he looked at me and nodded. I smiled at him and returned the nod. I stared at him for a moment longer. I hoped it wasn’t too obvious because I didn’t mean to stare at him. It just happened. My lower lip was pulled between my teeth as my thoughts suddenly ran wild. I was just happy no one noticed, other than Emily. She totally noticed.

“Right,” clearing my throat as I spoke, “Bye guys.” I looked back at Emily before finally leaving. I kept my head low as I walked, and when I stepped on to the elevator, I noticed the way Emily was staring at me. I couldn’t tell if it was a good stare or a bad stare. I wouldn’t be surprised if I get a talking to later about that.

When I finally got to my car, I pulled my phone from my bag and looked at all the missed messages and notifications from the day. All the texts I had meant nothing to me the second I saw Emily’s name show up at the top of my screen with a new, unread messages. Swallowing roughly, I tapped the notification and read the text.

Emily>Me: Dirty girl… I saw the way you were staring at Hotch… Dirty… Dirty… Girl…

I stared at the text with wide eyes and my breathing growing shallow. Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK. I am so fucked. She’s going to come home, drag me to bed and fuck me over. I couldn’t tell if I was scared or excited, but the way my thighs pressed together told me I was more excited than scared.

I chucked my phone back into my bag before starting my car. My hands were clenched around the steering wheel, my knuckles blanching from the tightness. Tapping the radio on and turning it up so loud to drown out my thoughts. 

But the loud classic rock, metal, jazzy blues, or any genre didn’t help me at all. I was still in my head thinking. And, they weren’t about Emily either. They were about Aaron.

The thought of sitting on Aaron’s lap, wearing nothing but his shirt. His lips on mine before trailing over my jaw and down my neck. One hand resting on my chest. While the other was resting high on my legs, his thumb brushing against my bare thigh. It was only a matter of moments before his fingers were against m- “Fuck,” I whispered before shaking my head.  

I had to pull over on the side of the road for a minute because I was starting to get distracted. And, if I wanted to get home safely, I had to stop for a minute. My head had to be clear of that. Hopefully Emily wouldn’t be home before me. I think she’d rather me be safe and show up at home later, rather than find out I got horny and in a wreck.

After a few minutes of just sitting on the side of the highway with loud music playing, while I thought about one of the grossest cases I could think of, I was finally ready to continue driving. 

My fingers tapped the top of the steering wheel, while I muttered the words to whatever song was playing over the radio. 

When I finally got home, I took a quick, and very cold shower. My thoughts were slowly becoming normal as I read over an old case file. I guess the focus on all the blood, guts, and gore help me out. It was still hard though. 

I was home alone for maybe 45 minutes, tops. Just long enough to make me be alone with my thoughts. Maybe the shower, old case, and loud music didn’t help as much as I wanted. 

I could hear the lock on the front door click to be unlocked, and the door opening. My body froze with anticipation.

“I’m home! Hope you didn’t go poking around for that little present,” Emily called from the front room. I cleared my throat slightly before speaking.

“Thank god!” I shouted from my spot on the chair. I kept my eyes on file in hand as I waited for Emily to enter the room. “Longest hour of my life…” I tried to let my tone be desperate. But I don’t think I had to try very hard. She just had to know what I wanted, without me actually saying it. I closed the file when she finally stepped into the living room.

“Sorry I kept you waiting, Kitten, I know how needy and impatient you are,” Emily spoke as she smiled at me, “Especially when you’re waiting for me.” I smiled as I stared at her for a moment. Though my smile was quick to melt away as someone stepped around her and entered the living room.

Aaron stood beside Emily, a slightly smug smile on his lips. His arms were folded over his chest as he stared back at me. I stared at him, my lips parted slightly. The feeling of shock and excitement grew in my chest, and I remembered the thoughts I had on the way home. 

“Oh, h-hi, Aaron.” I looked at him with a nervous smile on my lips. I shifted in my seat as the pair walked in my direction.

“I hope you don’t mind that I brought Aaron over. I needed his help with something.” Emily smiled as she stood behind me. I swallowed roughly as Aaron stood beside me. It was hard not to shift in my seat. A familiar… feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.

Something told me Emily didn’t need help with anything. And there’s something else to this. Why else would Aaron be here? I wouldn’t know. They’re always secretive at work. So I wouldn’t expect anything different here.

“What’s this about? Really?” I finally spoke after a long moment of silence. I looked up at Aaron as he stood beside me, his hand delicately cupping my cheek. He was looking back down at me with a certain softness in his eyes. It was weird seeing him be so… gentle. I was so used to seeing him as a hardass at the office. But here, now? I was at a loss for words. I was so lost in the way he held and caressed my face. I’m not gonna lie, forgot about Emily for half a second.

“Well, kitten, you wanted me to be nicer,” Emily started as she stood behind me. I was honestly too involved with how Aaron was looking at me and touching to actually pay attention to Emily. “But... I’m afraid I can’t do that,” she continued before she placed her hand on my chin, forcing me to look up at her. I took a deep shaky breath as my attention was now on her. “So, I brought someone who could help with that. A pretty little treat.” Her tone was deep and rough as she spoke. I swallowed roughly as we stared at each other. I could feel my heart begin to race, and my breathing pick up with each breath I took. At this point it was impossible to keep my excitement at bay.

“Emily,” Aaron cut in, forcing me to look over at him. Emily kept her eyes on me. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see a smirk growing on her lips. “Be careful with her.” He looked up at Emily with a stern expression on his face. There was the Aaron Hotchner I was so used to seeing.

“What? She likes it when I’m rough with her. Don’t you, Kitten?” Emily asked as she looked down at me with a sarcastic smile. Suddenly I couldn’t take my eyes off Emily. I mean, of course, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was my world, and I was hers. I’d move Heaven and Earth for her if she asked.

“Y-yes, Ma’am,” my voice was thready as I kept my eyes on her. That was when I noticed a wandering hand going down my chest and towards the hem of my shirt. And then I remembered, we had a guest. 

“Well, maybe this one time she doesn’t want to be manhandled,” Aaron spoke softly as he slipped his hand under my shirt. My breathing grew ragged as I looked over at him. My eyes were wide as I stared at him. "Isn't that right, Princess?" he asked as he rested his hand over my bra.

“Please,” I whimpered, not taking my eyes off him. I ignored Emily as she stood above me, taking in what was happening between her girlfriend and her superior. Part of me thought she liked it. But, I know Emily well enough to know that she doesn't like it when people play with things that belong to her.  

Aaron’s smile grew soft as his fingers finally touched the soft tissue of my breast. I couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief and let my eyelids flutter shut. He was doing a great job for a minute there. My legs pressing together the longer he went on. 

That was until there was a sudden absence under my shirt. My eyes snapped open and I instantly looked at Emily. She looked down at me, a wicked grin on her lips.

“What… What was that for?” I whispered, staring at her. She smiled at me before looking up at Aaron. I glanced at Aaron and noticed he was looking back at her with the same smile as Emily. I didn’t appreciate the way they were silently having a conversation with each other with their eyes. They did that a lot too, especially at the office. 

I’m not sure what I was expecting them to do…. But I wasn’t expecting them to kiss. My mouth fell agape and my eyes widened more than before. I almost jumped out of my seat to protest, but Emily was quick to rest a hand on my shoulder to keep me in my place. I struggled watching them. Emily’s hand pressed on his chest before pushing it over his chest, then up over his shoulder under his jacket.

“Emily,” I whined, watching her finally push his jacket over his shoulders, but not yet off his frame. I stared at them as I grew increasingly impatient. “This isn’t fair,” I cried before I bit my lips together. It was getting impossible to not get frustrated at that moment. Watching two people, who I wanted to ruin me, kiss right there in front of me was so hard. They both knew that too. It was her form of tourture to me. Punishment for how I stared at Aaron before I left the BAU.

Of course, Emily knew any thought I had. She read my mind back at the office, when I was staring at Aaron the way I was. She probably knew that I had more thoughts while I was driving home. It was also probably why she brought specifically Aaron over. This was killing me.

The pair parted before they lowered to the ground on either side of me. My body instantly turned towards Emily, someone who I was familiar with in an intimate setting. She seemed happy with my action too. I just hoped Aaron wasn't upset. 

"This night's about you, Kitten," Emily whispered as she carefully ran her fingers through my hair. I hummed happily as I leaned closer to her. Our faces were inches apart, and all I wanted to do was kiss her. I wanted to kiss her the way Aaron kissed her moments ago. 

At that moment, I wanted her to do whatever to me. I was so used to it being that way. Some nights I was used for her own gratification. Other nights she would give me what I wanted, but not till she had her way with me. It was about me. But that was why Aaron was here.  

"Please, Em," I whispered as I lifted a hand to her face. She smiled as I cautiously pulled her face closer to mine, our lips connecting. Again, I wasn't used to her gentleness. Although I could tell she wanted to take me right then and there. She was struggling to hold herself back. Part of me wanted her to just go for it. To take me then and there, and to let Aaron watch.

Emily hummed as she opened her mouth and further deepened the kiss. At the moment I couldn't get enough of her. My body wanting to move closer to hers. I was already willing to let her play with me. 

A breath of air got caught in my throat as a hand appeared on my shoulder. I slowly moved away from Emily and looked over my shoulder at Aaron. He was waiting patiently. 

I glanced at Emily, making sure it was okay before I went for him. She smiled softly and nodded. I looked back at Aaron, turning my body more to face him. I leaned into his touch the closer I got to him. 

"You have to use your words, Kitten. Tell Aaron what you want," Emily whispered as she sat behind me on the chair. Her hands slowly ran up and down my back, almost causing me to forget what I was doing. 

"K-kiss me… please," I whispered, trying hard to not sound too nervous. I took a deep breath as I looked up at Aaron. He looked at me before placing his hands on either side of my face. 

The wind was knocked from my lungs the second his lips touched mine. My hands found their way to his tie, pulling him closer to me. His face moved with me, the light stubble he had left the slightest burn across my skin. My hands moved from his tie to his shoulders, just barely pushing off his jacket.

I was so lost in him that I forgot where I was and who was with me. I couldn’t stop the soft moan that came from me, but Aaron seemed pleasantly surprised with my reaction. A smile grew on his lips as he kept them against mine. 

Then my world came to a screeching halt when Emily pulled my hair back so I was away from Aaron, and instead looking up at her. My eyes were wide as we stared at each other for a long time before either of us said anything. 

"Why don't you go get ready in our bedroom for Aaron and I? We'll be in shortly, okay?" She asked as she lowered down to me. The grip she had on my hair loosened slightly. I nodded as I swallowed roughly. I knew before she even opened her mouth that I was to use my words.

"Yes, Ma'am." I nodded before stumbling to my feet. I turned and looked down at the two. The way they both looked at me gave me butterflies. 

I watched as Aaron fixed his jacket, readjusting it so it was back on him. Two shades of lipstick were smeared on and around his lips. A light pink blush grew like wildfire across his cheeks.

I stared at the two for a moment longer before dropping my gaze and turning away. My feet quickly moved, bringing me to the bedroom. I tried to be even quicker when I got ready. Redoing my makeup, changing into something more… appealing. I wanted this moment to be perfect. Thank god I had showered when I got home. 

When I was good, and sure, that I was ready, I sat on the dead center of the bed. My fingers anxiously pulling at the bedding beneath me. I wondered what they were talking about. Emily was probably setting down the ground rules of what would happen in the bedroom and with me. This is the first time we’ve ever done something like this. I just hope she would give a little leeway for both Aaron and I. Surely she would…

I jumped slightly and looked towards the door when it clicked open. Emily was the first to step in, coming right up to the bed. She very slowly undressed, keeping her eyes on mine while doing so. I smiled as my eyes trailed down her body. Even with her imperfections, she was still perfect to me. I didn’t even see the old scars she got from Ian Doyle, I just saw her.

I swallowed roughly, watching her crawl on the bed. She placed her hand on my shoulder, pushing me back so I was lying down. Her body hovered over mine, her arms on either side of my body. I just knew Aaron was standing behind her, watching the scene unfold.

“Now, I know I said tonight was about you, Kitten… But you still have to be my good girl and follow our rules,” her voice was low, and she had a sly smile on her lips, “Are you going to be a good girl for Aaron and I?” she asked, keeping her voice low as she looked at me. I stared up at her, suddenly feeling dizzy as she rested her hand on my face. I nodded slightly as she moved down my body. She halted her movement as she got right to the waistband of my underwear.

“You have to use your words, Kitten, you know that.” She smiled as she tilted her head to the side. I swallowed roughly as she snapped my waistband against my skin. I almost couldn’t breath as she finally slipped her hand in my panties. “Are you going to be a good girl,” she asked again as she dragged a finger up my folds.  

“Y-yeah. Y-y-yes,” my voice was shaky as I spoke. 

“Yes what?” Emily asked as she moved her finger around my clit. I took a deep shaky breath and nodded.

“Yes, I can be a good… A good girl for you… an-and Aaron,” I whimpered. Emily smiled again before pressing her lips to mine. Her movements between my legs moved faster as time went on.

“That’s my good girl. Aaron already knows our safe word, and knows the rules… If you’re extra good, maybe Aaron will come back.” She pressed her lips to mine when she was done talking.

A moan fell from my mouth and into hers as she slipped two fingers into my entrance. She smiled before pressing her lips down my neck and chest. 

“Aaron, are you undressed yet?” Emily spoke against my skin. My lungs constricted and felt like they were on fire the longer she touched me. Her free hand lightly touched across my chest, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Emily,” I whimpered, my hands instantly gripping the bedding beside me. I could feel my chest tighten the deeper the breath I took. It was so hard not to make any whimpers or cries as she continued her ministrations.

The bed dipped beside me, causing me to open my eyes and look in that direction. Aaron was sitting beside me, sitting in just his boxers. He looked down at me, a soft smile on his lips. 

“Hi there, Princess,” he whispered as he brought a hand to rest gently on my face. I bit my lips hard as I stared at him.

“Oh, so now you’re his Princess,” Emily spoke before Aaron could say anything else. I looked up at her with a mild fear in my eyes. She smiled before quickening her movements. “You know what you are, Kitten,” her voice was low, a hiss. 

“N-n-” I was briefly cut off by a soft moan, my eyes fluttering shut and lips falling open slightly. The familiar tightness of the foreseeable end grew in my stomach. As the seconds ticked by, it got harder to be quiet.

“You’re a slut. A dirty, rotten, little slut,” she spoke her words harshly. I gasped as I looked up at her. 

“No, no you’re not.” It was Aaron’s turn to talk, causing me to look up at him. His eyes were still on me, and his hand slowly moved back down my body. His hand was back where it was earlier, under my bra and over my breast. “No, you’re perfect, Princess. And you’re doing so good. I bet you feel so good right now,” he whispered as he lowered closer to my face. His face was inches from mine. I could feel his breath fan out across my skin. I just wanted his lips against mine, it was right there.

“I wouldn’t believe anything he says, Princess,” Emily mocked and scowled when Aaron and I were moments away from kissing. I swallowed roughly before moaning. “He’s just saying that because he can’t feel how wet you are. Soaked even.” She looked over at Aaron with a smirk. He looked away from me and up at Emily. I watched as he clenched his jaw as he stared at her. 

“Em… Em, I’m so close… S’close...” I slurred as I clenched my muscles around her fingers. She looked back down at me with a smug smirk before she pulled her hand from between my legs. “Emily!” I whined feeling the tightness in my stomach slowly melt away.

“Not yet, Princess,” she mockingly whispered before lowering down to my lips, “Not yet,” she murmured against me before sitting up away from me. I looked at her with annoyance on my face. She looked over at Aaron with a smug smile before nodding at me. 

“This is… This is torture!” I shouted as I propped myself up on my elbows. She moved from between my legs so she was straddling over my stomach. Her eyes were still on Aaron, I wished so desperately that she would look at me. She firmly pressed her hand to the center of my chest. Her other hand was lightly against my face. My heart picked up it’s pace as I stared at her, it was so hard to breathe with how she looked at me.

“You spoiled, little, brat,” Emily hissed as she squished my cheeks together. I wrinkled my nose as I stared at her. I could feel my chest lift with each breath as I stared at her. The smirk she wore on her lips made me dizzy. 

“Just think about how much I’ll spoil you,” Aaron then cut in, forcing me to look over at him. Emily’s hand was still holding my face as I struggled to look over at him. “Because that’s all I want to do,” he cooed before lifting his hand to Emily’s. He glanced at Emily before gently pulling her hand off my face. “I’ll spoil you so much. You won’t even know what to do with yourself, Princess,” he whispered as he looked back down at me. He kept his eyes on me as he carefully brought a hand down my stomach to my underwear. 

“Aaron,” Emily warned as she looked over at him. 

“Do it,” I whispered as I stared at him. He looked between me and Emily for a moment before slipping his hand into my underwear. If Emily really didn’t want him to do this, she would have stopped him before he even touched my stomach. 

I gasped lightly once his hand met my center. My back arched the slightest bit as his finger started to slowly move against me. My head fell back against the pillow as I looked up at him. 

My hand went up to his head, my fingers getting lost in his hair, as I pulled him down to me. Our lips connected, and it was harsher than before. I wondered what Emily thought while she watched her superior kiss and finger her girlfriend. 

I just assumed she was annoyed that someone other than her was making me feel this way. That was until I heard her soft moans come from above me. I don’t think I’ve moved away from someone so fast. I moved away from Aaron to see Emily looking down at me, with her hand down the front of her panties. I took a deep breath as I stared at her. Great, now I was the jealous one. 

“Mhm mmm, nope. You get Aaron.” Emily smiled at me as she watched my facial expression change. 

“Please, please,” I half whined-half moaned. My head fell back against the pillow, and my mouth opened a little bit. It was so hard to stay quiet the closer I got to finishing. 

Aaron’s hand appeared back on my face as he guided me to look at him. That was when Emily rolled off my body and laid beside me on the bed.

“You’re doing such a good job, Princess,” Aaron whispered as he pressed his lips to the side of my head. I took a shaky breath as he looked back at me before pressing his lips to mine. He seemed to eat up the moan that came from me.

“A little too nosy for me, Princess,” Emily mocked, causing me to look over at her. I could tell she was getting closer, and would probably finish before me, because that’s always what happened. It was one of our rules. “Fuck,” she moaned as she dropped her head back. I took a deep breath as I looked up at Aaron.

“Please, Aaron,” I stared at him as I bit hard on my lower lip. He looked over at Emily, looking to see if it was alright. I struggled to stay still the louder she was beside me. “No, no it’s up to-fuck… you… Please.” I could feel my hands grip the sheets hard. I wondered if I wasn’t holding the bedding if my palms would have bleed. 

“It’s okay. You can do it. Cum for me, Princess,” Aaron whispered as he pushed my hair away from my face. I stared at him, watching him nod to reassure me. His hand fell from my face and landed on my breast. I cried out as my body shook.

Emily’s hands were back on me when she finished. Her hands moved quickly over my body as she pressed her lips to the side of my face and down my neck. My mind was going fuzzy the longer they both touched me.

“Mm, Daddy,” I moaned as my back arched slightly. I looked up at Emily. She looked back at me with a smile before pressing her lips to mine, making me feel really good. The overall feeling was caused because of the two people near me. But also because I was so close to finishing. 

“You like that,” Aaron asked, his voice low as he spoke. His lips were still pressed against my neck while his hands still worked between my legs. I looked at Emily, and she looked back at me with an amused smirk on her lips. I really didn’t have the heart to tell him.

“I… I was talking to… to Emily,” I whispered as I looked over at him. He moved away from my neck. Emily looked around me, causing me to look back at her. Her amused smile grew smug as she looked at him. Aaron slowed his movements, forcing me to look over at him. Emily went back to letting her hands roam my body. I could feel her move one hand towards Aaron’s, helping him back to the pace he was at before.

 “But… But I can call you daddy too if you want,” I whimpered as I stared at him. Aaron laughed and shook his head.

“That’s okay, Princess,” he whispered before returning his lips back to mine. A lengthy moan came from me as I finally reached my high. Emily kept her hand, and Aaron’s, between my legs for a moment as they helped me come down from my high. 

“Hips up, Kitten,” Emily whispered as she moved back between my legs. I looked up at her before carefully lifting my hips off the bed. She smiled at me before hooking her fingers on my underwear and pulled them off my hips and legs. “Good girl,” she cooed as she tossed my panties towards Aaron. I glanced over at him watching as he held my underwear in one hand. 

“Kitten,” Emily spoke again, causing me to look at her. She smiled before leaning closer to me. Her lips were close to mine, and I wanted so badly to just kiss her. “You’re gonna stroke Aaron’s cock while I eat you out, you understand,” she mused while her hand cupped my face. I huffed a deep breath and nodded, possibly a little too excitedly.

“Yes, ma’am. I understand,” I whispered before going to kiss her. She moved away from me before I could connect our lips. The smile she wore on her lips drove me crazy. I just wanted her. 

“Is that alright with you, Aaron,” Emily asked, her fingers running up and down my inner thigh. My legs tensed up and I could feel goosebumps across my skin. 

Aaron sat up more beside me, looking at Emily with a smirk before looking down at me. I stared up and between the two of them, waiting for the next activity of the night to happen. 

“I think it’s more than alright, Emily.” Aaron smiled down at me as he carefully touched my face. My breathing stuttered in my chest as he cupped my chin. His thumb brushed my lower lip, pulling it down to my chin slightly. My mouth fell open slightly and my tongue stuck out. Aaron smiled before carefully pressing his thumb in the center on my mouth. My lips closed around it. I moved my tongue around his thumb and kept my eyes on his. 

And then my eyes snapped shut and a soft moan got caught in my throat. Emily’s mouth attached to my pussy. Her tongue lapping at the previous mess her and Aaron had caused moments ago. It was so hard to even focus on one thing, that I had forgotten what she wanted for Aaron.

I opened my eyes and looked back at him. A small smile grew across his lips before he kissed mine. A deep breath escaped my nostrils and my eyes lightly closed. I carefully, and slowly, moved my hand across his stomach, and towards his boxers. My hand slipped under his waistband and my fingers wrapped around his cock. 

“Shit,” Aaron breathed against my lips. I struggled to smile as I carefully moved my hand up and down his length. My other hand went up to his head, gently pulling his hair. This time it was Aaron’s turn to try and be quiet. But thank God he was struggling. All the sounds he made were… Heavenly.

 He was so painfully hard. I felt bad it took so long for him to be touched like this. But it was worth it. Emily must have loved all the desperate sounds that were coming from Aaron and me. 

I tried to keep my pace quick, but it was so hard the closer I got. I could feel his face falter against mine the lazier my movements went. It was so hard to keep my attention on anything as Emily got more enthusiastic with her actions. I, really, honestly didn’t care that I was getting lazy with Aaron. And I don’t think he did either.

A small whimper came from me, and my hand stopped moving. My free hand moved from Aaron’s head and down towards the back of Emily’s. My fingers got tangled in her hair. It was even worse, or better, when Emily hummed and sent vibrations through my body. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I cried out against his lips. I bit hard on my lower lip as the hand around Aaron’s cock slowed to a stop, and came. It was hard to stay quiet, not that either of them would care. Frankly, I think they rather enjoyed it, especially Aaron. 

“Emily, Emily, please,” I cried when she didn’t let up and move away from me. My body squirming away from her, but failing when she placed an arm over my hips to keep me in place. Aaron kept busy by kissing my face and down my chest.  

All I could do was breathe, or try to breathe. I thought everything was too much before. But this… This was too much. Once Aaron started nipping at my skin, I couldn’t even breathe. My eyes just stayed glued shut, while my body squirmed. 

“Emily,” I whined, trying to lift her arm off me. She hummed, again, instead of moving away from me. It was driving me crazy! I couldn’t even do anything other than just be there, and well, enjoy myself. I don’t know why I was complaining. I was basically in heaven. Two people I… I loved were here… Worshiping me, and loving on me, and making me feel really fucking good. And I was starting to complain. It was just starting to become too much. They were good complaints… even though that’s an oxymoron.

“Come on, Princess. You’re doing such a good job.” Aaron whispered as he gently moved his hands around my body. My body shook slightly and my vision blurred white, and I finished again for the third time.

Emily came up from my legs and looked down at me. I stared at her as my body fell limp against the bed and close to Aaron. She smiled for a moment before pressing her lips to mine. I hummed and couldn’t stop myself from smiling.

“I’ll be right back. Aaron,” Emily started as she looked between Aaron and I. She looked right at Aaron before leaning closer to him. “Go easy on her,” she whispered before pressing her lips to his. She climbed off the bed and grabbed her robe, slipping it on before leaving the room. I looked up at Aaron just as he looked down at me. 

“W-what is she doing?” I stared at him as he moved so he was over me. My legs fell open to accommodate the space of him. But he didn’t yet answer my question. Which I was happy for because I got otherwise distracted.

My eyes trailed up and down his body, getting distracted as they landed on long bumps across his abdomen. I couldn’t help but lift my hand to trace my fingers over the old, healed wounds. They were jagged and ridgedy, like the person who put them there intended to kill him.

I almost asked what the scars were from. But then I remembered what had happened. I tried to not to feel bad, but it was hard. I did the same thing to Emily the first time we had sex. They’re things I don’t think about very often…  

Aaron rested his hand over mine, forcing me to look up at him. He had a soft, yet sad, smile on his lips. He pressed his hand against mine, pressing both of them to his stomach. His semi-toned stomach was warm against the palm of my hand. 

“Sorry,” I looked up at him, my eyes scanning across his face. Aaron furrowed his eyebrows before shaking his head. He was careful as he lowered his face back to mine, his lips reconnecting to me. It was so weird to me how soft and gentle he was with his kiss. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Aaron whispered as he kept his hand on mine. I looked up at him, enjoying the way he looked back at me. There was a certain appreciation in his eyes that made me happy.

"Where'd Emily go?" I whispered as I kept my eyes on him. He stayed quiet as he looked at me, his silence giving me a clue as to what could happen. In fact, it was telling me what was going to happen. “She’s okay with it?” My voice softened as I spoke. 

“She knows. We talked about it. We don’t have to do-”

“No, no I know. I mean, Aaron we made it this far. I want this.” I swallowed roughly after I spoke. Aaron smiled softly before removing his hand from mine and brought it to my face. I smiled as he lowered to my face. 

For a brief moment, he moved away from me to take his boxers off. Thank God I wasn’t dead tired yet because this is the best night of my entire life and I didn’t want it to end now. Maybe after he fucked me.

Once he was back on the bed, his lips reconnected with mine. My arms wrapped around his neck, and my hands rested on his back shoulder muscles. Aaron’s arms wrapped around my lower body, holding me up to his body. 

“Ready,” his voice was low and gruff as he spoke. I swallowed roughly and nodded. My face was pressed into the nape of his neck. I took a deep breath when the head of his cock pressed against the entrance of my sex. 

“Oh,” I whined as he slowly moved so our hips were together. My lungs tightened as he quickly, and gently, bottomed out. We both stayed still for a moment, adjusting to each other.

I carefully wrapped my legs around his waist, and held him against my body. Aaron carefully moved his hips, making me squirm beneath him. His lips stayed on my face, moving along my jaw, over my cheeks, before moving around my neck. I swallowed back the moan as my nails dragged down his back. 

Aaron’s pace was slow and steady. He wasn’t painfully slow, because he knew I’d get overstimulated, and I knew he didn’t have very long. 

“Please, please,” I cried, my voice whiny as my body tensed. Aaron moved his head away from my neck and looked down at me. Even though his eyes were blown and fueled by lust, there was the sweetest look in them. 

“What do you want, Princess? Tell me what you want.” He whispered as he brought a hand to cup my face. My chest heaved with each breath I took. And I jerked my hips to meet his.

“Kiss me,” I whimpered as I stared back at him. Aaron smiled before pressing his lips back to mine. I hummed as I moved a hand to the back of his head. 

My whole body tensed just as Aaron’s pace grew sloppy. I knew he was getting close. The room filled with our noises and the sounds of skin hitting skin. Through groans and grunts, Aaron whispered soft things to me. 

“You’re doing so… So good, Princess.” He moaned into my ear. I whimpered and nodded slightly.  

I couldn’t stop myself from crying out as a familiar feeling grew in my stomach. I wasn’t exactly sure if the familiar feeling was my own oragasm, or Aaron’s. But it felt really good. Aaron’s head dropped to the bed beneath me as he groaned. 

I finally took a deep breath for the first time tonight. It was such a deep breath of air that my lungs felt like they were on fire. Although my head was mildly dizzy, it felt equally as clear. 

Aaron nearly had to pry my body off his to kneel away from me. I almost didn’t let him. Even though he was literally in me, I still needed someone’s touch on my body.

He fell to the bed beside me. He readjusted so a blanket was over us. I let out a deep sigh as his arms were back around me, pulling me closer to his body. We both turned to face each other, and he pressed his forehead to mine. I really appreciated that he just knew that I wanted to be held and close to another person. I hated that I was so clingy after sex… It’s Emily’s fault, honestly.

“Did you have a good time,” Aaron asked as he kept his voice low. His lips still centimeters away from mine. Our foreheads remained pressed together. And I swear I could just stay in his arms for an eternity. Emily would kill me though if she knew that.

“Yeah, that was a lot of fun. Thank you, Aaron.” I slightly opened my eyes and looked at him. He breathed out a laugh and nodded.

“You’re welcome, Princess.” Aaron smiled before pressing his lips to mine. It didn’t feel like a long time that we were like that, but our moment was cut short by the clearing of someone’s throat.

I peeled away from Aaron first and looked over my shoulder to see Emily. She stood on her side of the bed, looking down at Aaron and I. She had three bottles of water and a couple granola bars in her hands. The way she looked down at us with a joyful look in her eyes. How long had she been standing there watching us?

“Wow, didn’t know you’d replace me that quick.” She smiled at us as she placed the water and snacks on her nightstand. I furrowed my eyebrows as I moved away from Aaron. 

“You were the one who left me,” I scoffed as she sat beside me. Emily smiled before pressing her lips gently to mine. “Thank you,” I whispered against her lips. 

“Anything for you, Kitten,” she smiled before pressing her lips to mine again, “Now, drink up. You did a lot of strenuous activity. I don’t want you getting any cramps. You too, Aaron,” Emily grabbed two bottles of water and handed them over to Aaron and me. I grumbled quietly as I cracked the lid off my bottle. 

“What was that, Kitten?” Emily watched as I sipped my water.

“Mmm, nothing. Thank you for the water, Emily.” I smiled as I held up the water bottle. Emily smirked at me and shook his head.

“That’s what I thought. Now, hurry up. I want to cuddle,” she sighed deeply as she looked between me and Aaron. I looked over at Aaron with a raised eyebrow.

“Jeez, didn’t know you could be so needy,” Aaron spoke into his water bottle. I tried not to sputter my water, but failed miserably. 

“I swear to God, you two are children,” Emily scoffed and shook her head. I looked back at her with a smile.

“Yeah, but you love us… Well me anyway.” I went up to her to kiss her. She glared at me as she took my water bottle. I smiled as I shimmied down the bed, pulling the blanket over my body. Emily looked down at me before moving closer to me to cuddle.

My body instantly clung to Emily's. Her arms were wrapped around my body, holding me as close as she could. Aaron was quick to put his bottle down and wrap his arms around me. I could tell it would be a fight to the death for cuddles. I couldn’t stop the smug smile that grew across my lips.

"Can we do this more often?" I murmured into Emily's skin. She laughed and nodded. 

"Of course we can. But I think that's a question for Aaron, Kitten," Emily spoke softly as her hand brushed down the back of my head. I hummed, not really wanting to turn to ask him. I could feel Aaron breathe out a laugh as he wrapped an arm around my waist. 

I looked up at him, the smugness in my smile turning shy. Aaron looked down at me, his smile warm and friendly. I sighed deeply as I stared at him.

“Yes, Princess,” Aaron spoke as he lifted a hand to rest gently on my face. I wasn’t sure if he was answering my question or asking me. So I just stayed quiet. “We can do this as often as you’d like.”

if you want to be a part of a taglst or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

[gallifrey1sburning]

Hi 👋 a prompt you can take or leave: Draco is very unsure whether he is being flirted with or this is an extension of their office rivalry that he doesn't understand (or the reverse!) Ty!

@skeptiquex and @ihavesomeideawhatimdoinghere, I read both of your prompts back to back, and they worked really well together, so I squished them into one. I hope you enjoy! Thank you both for sending me things, and thanks to @mxmaneater for the fast beta ❤️

—

The Tally

“One more for me!” Harry crowed, scratching a new tally mark next to his name on the chalkboard behind Draco’s head. “Better luck next time, Malfoy.” The board had a partner behind Harry’s desk, and the tallies recorded on one would reflect on the other, but Harry took great joy in invading Draco’s space and rubbing his victories in his face at every opportunity. Not that Draco was any better. It was part of the fun.

“Please, that one hardly counted,” Draco objected reflexively. “You only caught him because you tripped, for Merlin’s sake. Hardly an impressive arrest.” 

Harry shrugged and grinned, perching on the edge of Draco’s desk. “An arrest is an arrest.”

“Whatever,” Draco grumped. He and Harry had been playing this game for over a year now, and the margin was always extremely close. Harry was just barely ahead, at the moment, but Draco would catch up to him soon. He and Parvati had a potions ring bust coming up that Harry and Weasley weren’t involved in. Once that was done, he’d have overtaken him, and the smug expression currently gracing his colleague’s face would disappear along with his lead.

“So, any big weekend plans?” Harry asked, ignoring Draco’s pout.

Draco dropped the expression when it failed to produce the desired reaction. “Nothing too exciting. Yourself?”

“I’ve got tickets for the Puddlemere game on Saturday, actually. Ron was supposed to come, but something came up, so I’m trying to find someone else who might want to go. It would be a shame for the ticket to go to waste.” Harry was biting his lip and looking hopeful, and for just a moment, Draco thought— but no. If he’d wanted to ask, he would have asked, he told himself firmly. 

Taking care to keep his expression light, Draco pondered for a moment before saying. “I think McCutcheon is a Puddlemere fan. Maybe try him?”

“Oh, right.” Draco almost thought that Harry looked disappointed for a moment, but on second glance, his expression was clear and friendly. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll see if he’s free. Have a great weekend, Draco. Parvati.” He knocked his knuckles against the desktop twice before straightening and walking off, hands in pockets. Draco watched him go, sighing as he rounded the corner. It really was a pleasure watching him walk away.

He was brought back to reality by his partner smacking him in the back of the head with a stack of paperwork. “Ow! What the fuck, Patil?”  

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she hissed, looking even more exasperated with him than usual. “Every time he’s over here, you spend the rest of the day mooning, and he finally asks you out, and you say NO?!” 

“I do not moon!” He did moon, and he knew it, but he wasn’t about to say so. He still had his pride. “And he didn’t ask me out, either.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“He didn’t! He just said he had an available ticket! He very clearly had an opening to invite me, if he wanted to, and he very clearly didn’t.” There had been a number of moments like this, in recent months, and Parvati kept insisting that Harry was flirting with Draco. For his part, Draco kept insisting that she mind her own business, because she obviously could not read Harry Potter at all if she thought he was interested in Draco.

“You are an absolute moron.” Parvati shook her head in disbelief, but let it drop.

— 

They made the bust on Tuesday. Monday had been a rush of preparations and contingency planning and final logistics, and the stakeout had lasted all day, but in the end, it had been worth it—they’d brought in six players in one sweep and were confident that at least one of them would give up the rest in exchange for sentencing leniency. Draco had dropped into bed exhausted but elated.

He was still riding high when he sauntered into Harry and Weasley’s office on Wednesday. He leaned ostentatiously over Harry’s desk, stretching almost directly over his perpetually-tousled head to grab a piece of chalk and carefully add six perfectly straight tally marks to his own side of the board, giving him the lead by three. 

“And that’s how you do it,” he gloated as he straightened, smirking smugly down at Harry. “Suck it, Potter.”

Across the office, he heard Weasley groan and mumble something that sounded suspiciously like ‘he wishes’ under his breath. Harry looked a bit pink, but still smirked right back up at Draco, so it was probably just the heat. “Played that one close to the chest, didn’t you? But don’t worry, I’ve got something in the pipeline. I’ll be back on top before you know it.”

In Draco’s peripheral vision, he saw Weasley bang his head against his desk. “I’m getting tea,” he announced, stalking out of the office. Draco raised an eyebrow at Potter, who shrugged. 

Now that he was here, Draco didn’t quite want to leave yet, so he searched for something else to talk about. “How was the game?” he finally asked.

“Huh? Oh, the Quidditch game. Yeah, I didn’t end up going, actually.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, not making eye contact. “Wasn’t really in the mood.” 

Draco wrinkled his brow, not really sure what to make of that, but then Harry asked a question about the potions bust, and Draco forgot about it, instead focusing on a dramatic retelling of his glorious victory.

— 

Harry’s next arrest came after a particularly brutal double homicide. It was all anyone was talking about when he arrived that morning, but, despite Draco’s expectations (and perhaps anticipation), Harry didn’t appear at his desk to brag about it. He was feeling a bit anxious by the time he finally saw him passing by his door in the late afternoon, and the feeling only grew when he did. Harry had bags under his eyes, and his usually confident posture was slumped. He didn’t look as though he had slept. He also didn’t look like he was going to stop.

“Hey,” Draco said, rising from his desk to catch him before he passed by completely. “Haven’t seen you today.” Are you okay?, he didn’t say, but he thought it was probably audible in his tone anyway.

“Oh. Hey, Draco.” Harry looked up at him, seeming a little lost. He looked hollow behind his eyes, and Draco could feel his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Yeah, I’ve been…” he trailed off and glanced past Draco, into his office, to where the chalkboard hung prominently on the back wall. He seemed to curl even further in on himself. “I don’t want to count this one, okay?” he said, finally. “It doesn’t really feel like a victory.”

“Yeah, of course,” Draco said immediately, and he suddenly felt completely helpless. “Can I—” he hesitated, and then put a tentative hand on Harry’s slumped shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

He was half sure that Harry would pull away from his touch, but he didn’t. If anything, he seemed almost to relax into it. “I’m okay,” he said, and it wasn’t convincing, but Draco didn’t want to push it. “Thanks, though.” He reached up and gripped Draco’s hand where it lay on his shoulder, so briefly that his hand was gone before Draco could even fully register it, and then stepped back, continuing on his way.

Draco stood and stared at the chalkboard for a while when he got back to his desk. Then, he picked up his eraser and carefully removed one tally from his own side.

— 

Their next bust, they were on together. A small Neo-Death Eater group that the department had been keeping an eye on, but who hadn’t done much of anything until now, had suddenly decided to make a grand statement by threatening a large-scale attack on Diagon Alley if their (entirely insane) demands weren’t met. Needless to say, the Ministry was not interested in negotiation, and the whole Auror force had been called out en masse. 

Somehow, Harry and Weasley had ended up working in tandem with Draco and Parvati, and now Harry and Draco were back to back in a dead-end alley, dueling a pair that seemed to be the last desperate stragglers, while Parvati watched the street, ready to block anyone who might try to interfere, and Weasley stood to the side, clutching his ribs and sweating but still managing to hold a fairly steady shield charm. There was an unconscious, Incarcerous-ed body on the ground near him; his Stunner’s aim had been true, but the assailant had gotten off one last hex before it hit. He wasn’t in imminent danger—Draco had been hit by the same spell before, and it was extremely painful but didn’t cause any lasting damage once reversed—and although that would be easy enough to do, they didn’t have a wand to spare at the moment.

Harry and Draco worked together like they’d been born to it, and if their respective partnerships hadn’t been working so well for so long, Draco might have considered it a waste that they weren’t paired together. Spells flew around them like fireworks, and they cast and dodged and shielded and attacked without speaking, without pause, until, suddenly, it was over. 

“Ron!” Harry cried as soon as his wand dropped, but Parvati was already by his side, countering the spell, and Ron’s body relaxed almost immediately.

“I’m fine, mate. Great work.” 

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief and then turned to Draco, chest still heaving with exertion. Draco couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face even as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel sweat tracking down his face, his neck, his back, and he was streaked with dirt and—he suspected—blood; but they had won, and no one had died, and he was almost high on the rush of it. “I’m not sure who those count for,” he said, half laughing. “It happened too fast. Did you catch who took them down?”

Harry was grinning now, too, the buzzing energy of their win almost visibly coursing through him. He beamed at Draco, and he looked so fucking beautiful, even though he was just as dirty and dishevled as Draco was, that Draco couldn’t help but glance, just for a second, at those lips that he’d surreptitiously observed for so long as they stretched wide with joy. When he snapped his eyes back up, however, it was clear that Harry had seen, because the smile had morphed into something that Draco couldn’t put a name to, and his eyes were searching Draco’s for something. And then— 

“Fuck it,” he heard Harry say, and then there were hands on either side of his head and he was being—quite thoroughly—kissed, right there in the alley. He melted into it immediately, pulling Harry closer to himself almost instinctively. There was an iron tang of blood as their tongues met, and Draco wasn’t sure whose it was, but he didn’t particularly care. He didn’t care about much of anything, right now, besides Harry’s hands, and Harry’s lips, and the press of Harry’s chest and hips against his own, and whether Harry might want to reenact this moment later but somewhere with a bed and a lot less clothes.

“I TOLD YOU!” Parvati yelled triumphantly in the background.

“Fucking finally.” Ron sounded both amused and exasperated.

Draco ignored them in favor of sliding his hands into Harry’s birdsnest of hair, pulling lightly and making him groan into the kiss. He supposed this one counted as a win for both of them.

Also on AO3

[bestiesenpai]

Spoiled Rotten - Toji Fushiguro

Half baked gangster/shady business dealer toji fushiguro idea...hope ya like it lol. Femme reader, 3k words

Content warningsss: a lot a lot of the word daddy lol, drinking, biting, drug usage(cocaine to be specific)

“There’s my little minx.” It’s his deep, smoky voice that you hear first when you open your door one late Friday night, dripping in an expensive borderline too short silk dress. A cropped white fur coat is your only protection against the crisp night air, the rest of your body - bare legs, open chest and feet clad in high heels - is exposed.

“Hey daddy.” You purr, sliding into his waiting arms. The scent of Toji’s cologne engulfs you, the warmth from his own thick fur coat surrounding you as he kisses the top of your head.

“See you got the purse I sent.” He pulls away slightly, thumbing the chain of the purse he had sent over this morning.

“Mhmm, I love it. Exactly my style.” Beaming up at him, you giggled as he slid an arm low around your waist.

“Daddy knows his girl well.” His hand dips down to squeeze your ass and then he’s closing your door, nudging you to the chauffeured blacked out SUV waiting on the street. “Now let's get going.”

As soon as you’re in the car, you’re seated in Toji’s lap, his thick legs spread out to support you. He keeps a hand on your back to keep you steady as the car rocks, and the other hand is high on your thigh, thumbing the hem of the dress just barely covering you.

“You look so fucking sexy.” Gripping your thigh, Toji lets out a low groan. “Gonna be the prettiest girl in that whole place.”

“Thank you daddy.” You press a few kisses to his jaw, lightly staining his skin with your lipstick.

“I got you a gift, I want you to wear it tonight.” Leaning over, he flips a compartment open in the center console and pulls out a velvet box. Curiously, you take it and unwrap it quickly.

“Oh wow!” Inside the box is a drop pearl necklace, delicate gold chain weighed down by a single pearl and then a slightly smaller one above it.

“Lemme put it on for you.” Shrugging your jacket down your shoulders, you sit as still as possible as Toji places the necklace on you. The pearl dips down your chest, nestling right at the curve of your breasts. “What a fucking treasure.” His fingers skim along the edges of the necklace, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You kiss him as a thank you, the scar on the edge of his lip a familiar sensation. He smiles into the kiss, hand coming up to grab your chin softly and open your mouth. Sliding his tongue past your teeth, you let out a squeak as the car comes to a full stop.

“We’re here, sir.” The chauffeur announces, knowing better than to say anything else or to look at Toji without permission.

“Let’s go doll.” Sliding you off his lap, Toji opens the door and helps you out. There’s a gust of wind that whips as you step out, almost making you jump back into the car. Pulling you closer to him, Toji doesn’t let you escape that easily.

“This the new club you opened?” Fixing your gaze on the bright, warm flashing light bulbs in front of you, you do your best to ignore the cold. It looks like something straight out of a movie: overly buff doormen, a long line of people dressed to the nines hoping to get in before the club closes. There’s VIP guests mingling outside, some smoking cigarettes while some are clearly high.

“Boss.” One of the bouncers nods and lets the two of you in without question. Immediately you’re thrust into the hustling club, scantily clad waitresses passing by with trays of drinks for wealthy clients sitting at semi-circular tables along the wall. Red velvet lines every seat and gold accents drip from the ceilings.

There’s a dance floor in the middle of the club, crowded with people trying to have a good time. Toji always knew how to throw a party, a star DJ headlining the opening night. All it takes is a nod to a member of his security team and you’ve got a strongly mixed drink in your hand, the fruity pink color doing nothing to hide the hard bite of alcohol.

“Whaddya think?” Toji asks over the music, taking your jacket off your shoulders and handing it to someone along with his own coat. With the garment now off you can see his physique more clearly in a crisp fitted black button up and slacks, the tight shirt highlighting his muscles perfectly.

“It’s great!”

“There’s more floors, follow me.” To the side of the room is a stairway tucked away he leads you to, a few people mingling along the steps. The sound of the pumping bass fades away and the atmosphere shifts.

Coming upon the second floor, you’re greeted by a room full of card games. Poker, blackjack and roulette tables were full of people playing, mountains of chips just waiting to be bet.

“I thought you weren’t allowed to open a casino?” His proposition to open this part of the club had been rejected last you’d heard.

“Yeah well the mayor owes me a few favors.” Patting your shoulder, Toij flicks his chin out to the room. “Wanna play a game, baby?”

“Okay!” Flitting away to a blackjack table, you could feel the eyes following you, sizing you up first and then landing Toji. There were several people here that would love to take you home, you could feel it in the way they eyed your legs and bare shoulders and it made a satisfied smirk worm its way onto your face, putting a bit more obvious sway in your hips as you walked.

“Putting on a show I see.” Toji chuckled as he sat down at an open table, immediately pulling you onto his lap. Waving his hand, a stack of chips are brought to the table and put in front of him, and another drink is brought for you.

You played the game of blackjack marginally well, not particularly caring if you won or lost. It was all Toji’s money after all, he would win it back and then some by the end of the night. There was no need to worry about playing smart, all you had to do was have fun.

“Shit, lost again.” You huffed, seeing the last of your chips taken away.

“Let’s play some poker, some friends of mine just walked in.” Getting up and moving tables, you greeted the friends Toji was talking about. They were people you’d seen before, and you could make decent conversation with them, but when you were seated at the poker table there wasn’t space to talk.

Toji kept you snuggly in his lap, one hand cupping just under your ass every time you moved and kissing the top of your head as you snuggled into his shoulder. Following along with the cards, you helped him play, earning back a few chips and slightly redeeming yourself from blackjack.

“Daddy, I wanna go dance.” You whispered in Toji’s ear forty-five minutes later, getting antsy and bored.

“Go have fun baby, I’ll catch up in a few.” Sliding you off his lap, Toji kissed your hand and sent you on your way. There was a security guard trailing you, one he’d hired to be with you whenever the two of you went out.

“Can you get me a drink? Just the same one I’ve been having will do!” Patting the burly man on the shoulder, you grinned widely as he nodded and left to the bar. You didn’t have to wait long for him to come back, handing you the drink silently.

Downing it quickly, you hopped onto the packed dance floor. The bass vibrated strongly from the floor up your legs, making your feet go numb the longer you danced. You tried to keep an eye out for Toji, see when he came downstairs so you could drag him onto the floor, but he took far too long to keep your interest.

Dancing with multiple different people, you paid no mind to the hands that glided along the small of your back or across your arms. It all added to the experience of the club, the music drowning out any attempts at conversation.

The ache in your feet couldn’t be ignored any longer now. A good number of songs had passed and you were tired. Not bothering to look for Toji, you sauntered over to the bar, the security guard snagging you an empty seat with ease.

Downing a glass of water and ordering another drink, you spun around in the bar stool and scanned the club. It was packed with even more people and as the front doors swung open you could see the line to get in was still as packed as ever.

“Hey, how’s it going?” A voice cut into the little bubble you’d made for yourself, a flash of white streaking across the corner of your vision.

“Hm?” Turning to face whoever had just sat down, you were face to face with a lanky man with wild white hair, black sunglasses low on his nose to reveal sharp blue eyes.

“I saw you dancing earlier, you looked really sexy.”

“Thanks.” You were unimpressed and he could tell by your tone. Crossing your legs, you turned fully back to the bar and swirled your drink, the scent of alcohol wafting up to your nose as you took a sip. The stranger’s eyes roamed all over you, drinking in the expanse of slightly sweaty skin before him.

“I’m Gojo.” He stuck a hand out, flashing you a grin as he waited for you to shake it.

“(Y/N).” Grabbing his hand with your thumb and forefinger, you shook it. You weren’t really interested in the man, but after taking another look over your shoulder and not seeing Toji, you shrugged slightly. No harm in entertaining yourself for a bit.

“Such a pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“Thanks.” The cheesy line made you snort, a smile spreading on your cheeks despite yourself.

“Even prettier when you smile.”

“You really are a charmer, huh?” Leaning your head on your fist, you sized him up. He wasn’t particularly well dressed, just good enough to get in.

“Depends, is it working?”

“Depends. Buy me a drink?”

You end up making conversation with Gojo far longer than anticipated, somehow getting wrapped up in a story he’s telling that sounds too good to be true. He’d bought you two more drinks and you were certainly feeling the effects.

You were leaning far too close to him, nearly sliding off your own stool as your legs tangled with his. Your chest had dipped forward, the necklace dangling off your neck and the neckline of your dress plunging lower. A hand was now resting on his forearm, gripping it tighter as you laughed at something stupid he said.

“You’re so stupid!” You’re laughing far too loudly but you’re too tipsy to care. Toji’s prolonged absence had irked you enough that you didn’t care who saw you cozying up to this new guy; you wished someone had the nerve to say something to you, or better yet go right to him and tell him that his little minx had her eyes on a new prize.

“I’m tellin’ ya it’s the truth!” Gojo laughs right back, stretching out his long arms and putting one around the side of your seat, caging you in even more. Giggling at the absurdity of what he just said, your gaze snakes out across the club, out past the intimate little space you’re in.

Toji is sitting right at a VIP table a few feet away, his jaw cocked to the side and a pissed off look in his eyes. When you make eye contact, you giggle again and blow him a kiss, turning back to Gojo and putting a hand high on his shoulder, nearly wrapping it around his neck as you laugh extra loud in spite.

“How’s the liquor treating you, baby?” Gojo asks, rubbing a hand up and down your arm. The sound of his voice calling you that name doesn’t hit the same as with Toji, but you let it slide.

“Just fine.” You croon, fixing Gojo with your best smile and making his already pink cheeks flush a little deeper. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Toji sit up a little straighter and his sleeves have been pushed up to his elbows, baring his flexed forearms.

Looking directly at Toji, your fingers slid up the back of Gojos neck, finding the hair at his nape and twirling it between your fingers. Scraping your nails lightly against his neck, you’re not listening at all to what he’s saying now. An excited ripple runs through you, settling in your stomach as Toji stands up.

“Alright, funs over.” He huffs, yanking your hand off Gojo and pushing him away from you.

“What the fuck!” Gojo shouts, clearly startled by the sudden intrusion.

“Look who decided to show up.” You quip, pulling your hand from his grasp and waving over the bartender. “I’ll have another, thanks.”

“Get lost pal.” Gojo attempts to push Toji away but the man doesn’t budge. He tries to grab your wrist again but Gojo stops him, grabbing onto his arm tightly. “Hey, don’t touch-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Toji grunts, glaring harshly at Gojo. “Don’t get involved with shit you don’t know about.” You have to bite back a giggle behind your drink as Gojos mouth hangs open slightly. Grabbing your shoulder, Toji gets you to turn halfway to him. “You’ve had your fun, lets go.”

“Mmmm…” Tapping your chin, you pretend to think it over. “No thanks.” You can practically see his blood boiling, even more so when you put a hand on Gojo’s knee.

“You really want to play this game, baby?” Cocking his head to the side, Toji fixes you with an intense look. He’s pissed at how flirtatious you’ve been, but you know he loves it - otherwise there wouldn’t be the slight uptick to his mouth.

You get to take one sip from your drink before it’s taken out of your hand and you’re pulled from the bar stool. Toji has a tight grip on your wrist, almost enough to hurt as he drags you away from the bar.

Pulling you back up the stairs, he takes you to a side hallway and into a room tucked away, quickly locking the door behind him.

“Just can’t fucking help yourself, huh?” Toji barks when the door closes, pushing you into the room. It’s a decent sized office with two small plush couches facing each other, an opulent circular coffee table in the middle.

“I was bored, you took too long.” Pouting on one of the couches, you cross your arms under your breasts and push them up, looking away dramatically as Toji sits down next to you with his legs spread wide.

“S’not my fault, baby. Daddy had to take care of some business.” Throwing an arm over the back of the couch, he tugged you closer. “I’m all yours now.”

“Hm.” Still not done with your act, you kept your body turned away from him.

“You really gonna act like a brat right now?” He hums, curling his fingers around your upper arm. “I’d hate to smear that pretty makeup when I start spanking you.” As he speaks, he hauls you over his body, seating your ass right in his lap and giving your thigh a harsh spank. “But maybe you’d like that, huh?”

“Daddy!” Throwing your head back against his shoulder, you whine loudly, rubbing your ass into him. “You promised not to do that anymore!”

“Yeah and you promised to be a good girl.” Tilting his head to the side, Toji smirked at you. “Seems you didn’t hold up your end of the bargain.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, quickly moving to straddle his lap. Spreading your legs wide, your dress rides up, revealing the special thong you’d worn to go with this dress. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you give Toji a quick peck.

He chuckles against your lips, hands sliding down your back to grab your ass firmly, holding you tightly against him. His fingers dig into your flesh, grazing the fabric of the thong and hooking it under his fingers.

“You know I love it when you wear this.” Toji hums, toying with the fabric. You giggle coyly, kissing his jaw and wiggling your hips in his hands. A low growl comes from his chest as Toji descends onto you, latching his lips onto your neck and kissing you roughly.

“Daddy!” Your fingers tug at his hair as his teeth sink into your neck. You moan loudly, tugging his hair again when he smacks your ass.

“Fucking brat.” He snarls, licking the teeth marks he’d left in you and smacking you again. “Love to get me all riled up huh?” Grinding you on his lap, Toji trails kisses up your neck and behind your ear.

Moaning in his ear, you nod drunkenly. Your fingers fumble to grab the collar of his shirt and unbutton it, eager to feel his skin underneath. Just as you get one button undone, Toji snatches your hands away.

“Who said you get to touch me?”

“Please, daddy.” You pout, trying in vain to get your hands free. “Wanna feel you so bad.”

“What about that chump at the bar? You seemed pretty happy touching him.”

“No, I don’t want him, I want you!” Bouncing on his lap, the alcohol was clouding your senses, making you way more desperate way faster than normal. “Just wanted you to pay attention to me.”

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” Toji chuckles, letting your hands go and helping you unbutton his shirt. Pushing his shirt off his shoulders, your hands greedily felt up his body, diving down to give a few kisses to his neck and chest.

“Love you daddy.” Your words are slurred, fingers already dipping down to his lower stomach.

“Fuck yeah you do.” He shivered, pushing you away slightly and digging in his pocket. “Bet you’ll love me even more with this.” In his fingers is a small baggie of white powder that you’re all too familiar with. Dipping his finger into it, Toji holds it under your nose and you sniff it up obediently.

“Thank you daddy.” As the drug begins to take effect, you smile stupid at Toji, dragging your nail across the edge of his lip and along his scar.

“Don’t ever say your daddy ain’t spoiling you rotten.” Taking a hit for himself, Toji throws his head and back and grunts, rocking you in his lap. “Completely fucking rotten.”