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THE ONLY EXCEPTION
♫ now playing - the only exception by paramore
bakugou x reader
word count: 1,827 words
IN WHICH each time your friends caught bakugou only being nice to you.
a/n: still 'fool for you' just changed the title (≧ω≦)
“i've never seen him so.. calm.”
“right? he's always so uptight.”
the two friends were peering over the couch as they watched bakugou and y/n sleep soundlessly. there was a serene look drawn on his face while he held y/n closely to him, her hand resting softly on his chest as their chests rose up and down simultaneously.
“how come he's so much nicer to her than any of us?” kirishima complained with a pout stitched on his lips. he'd been friends with bakugou way before (two months) him and y/n got together. where was his special treatment?
“they're dating duh. why wouldn't he be nice to her?” mina replied as gazed at the couple with a soft gaze in her eyes. their young, teenage love was truly admirable.
even if bakugou seemed to have a stick up his ass 24/7.
the couple twitched softly in their sleep. it had been a long and stressful day of endless amounts of training, and lord knew that they both needed a break. a thin blanket was all that covered their bodies, but anybody could make out the way bakugou held her waist and the way y/n laid her hand on his chest underneath the sheet.
the usually quiet library turned into a circus as it filled up with bakugou's grumbling, denki's whines, and y/n's giggling. the sight of bakugou repeatedly smacking denki on the head with rolled up paper was an entertaining sight to distract her from her note-taking.
“are you seriously this stupid?” bakugou growled as he peered over the blonde's notebook, erasing and scribbling over any mistakes he made. denki pouted while rubbing his head on the spot that bakugou smacked. “c'mon.. it's really not that easy!” denki whined.
bakugou's vermillion eyes narrowed at denki. “it's basic algebra! how did you even get this far if you can't do simple math?!” he snapped.
denki continued to pout as he grumbled under his breath, something about bakugou lacking basic respect.
“uh.. katsuki?” y/n called out hesitantly.
though he still kept the glare on his face, the way his body language softened was visible, and how his tone contrasted from denki to her was plain obvious. “what?”
she turned over her notebook towards him so he can see her work. “i think i did it wrong.. can you check it?”
bakugou grabbed her notebook and skimmed over her work. “yeah.. here, let me explain.” he leaned over closer to her, close enough to where she can smell caramel on his skin.
denki's mouth fell agape as he watched how the guy went from raising hell on him to looking like he was practically skipping in a field of flowers inside his head. “that is SO not fair! how come you're so much nicer to her than me?!”
“cause she's not an idiot! keep working!”
it was far past midnight, and it was already one thing that izuku couldn't sleep, but on an empty stomach? it made it far much worse. he tried everything in the book from counting sheep to counting his breaths, but nothing could beat his racing mind and the sound of his stomach growling.
izuku didn't want to disturb anyone, but would it really hurt if he just tip-toed to the common room? he sighed as he ran his hand through his curly green hair, quietly making his way to the kitchen to not wake anyone.
but as he walked through the common room, a taller figure appeared in front of him.
“GAH!” he yelped, hastily smacking a hand over his mouth as he realized how loud he'd screamed. “shoto!” he half-whispered. “what are you doing?!”
todoroki stood still, his expression unwavering. “i couldn't sleep.” his direction turned towards the kitchen. “i wanted to get a snack, but i think someone is in there.” he said.
that's odd. it was almost one in the morning, and the only people that izuku thought could be awake fell asleep ages ago. he asked todoroki who it was but he only shrugged, showing he only heard the person but never checked who it was.
he never thought he'd be met with the sight of bakugou resting his chin on y/n's shoulder as she made them snacks.
“at 12:47 in the morning? that's way past bakugou's bedtime…” todoroki muttered under his breath.
bakugou's tone was softer, softer than anyone had ever heard besides y/n herself. “you better not burn it.” he huffed.
y/n giggled, slightly turning her head to face his side profile. “i'm not going to burn our snacks,” she assured. “i'm an expert.”
“expert my ass.”
“hey!”
izuku and todoroki looked like a deer in headlights looking at the scene before them. they wanted to walk away, believe them, they really did. but the sight of bakugou being so domestic was such a rare and amusing sight to see.
“do we… leave?” izuku suggested.
“i don't know…” todoroki answered. “this is really weird.”
bakugou’s head shot up from her shoulder and turned to look at the two voices faster than the speed of light. his ruby eyes were narrowed as he glared them down as his lips curled. “the hell are you guys doing?”
izuku's hands flapped around in a panic. “w-we were just about to leave! i swear-”
“you're very affectionate, bakugou” todoroki said, as blunt as ever.
“shut up!” he yelled, his face turning as a red as a tomato and his hair puffed up. y/n giggled once again at the dramatic scene that laid in front of her. “do you guys want snacks too?” she offered.
“why are you giving our food to extras?” “suki!”
brutal wasn't even the word to describe today's training session. everyone was curled up on the ground, hands over their stomach as it even hurt to breathe. the sounds that filled the room were heavy breathing and complaints. and y/n— was nowhere to be found.
mina, jirou, and ochaco all wandered the hallways, a worried look etched on their face as they searched for their friend. “i'm really worried about her y'know.” mina was the first one to break the silence.
both girls nodded in agreement.
“so am i,” ochaco said. “she just disappeared right after training ended.”
the trio kept wandering the halls, looking in every corner and every turn where y/n could be hiding.
suddenly, through the glass window, they see their little y/c haired friend sitting on the bench, with her fingers intertwined on her lap and her head hung low.
“there she is!” jirou yelled, quickly running to the nearest door to go outside and get y/n while the other two girls trailed closely behind her.
but something made them stop dead in their tracks. the closer they got to the window, the more they were able to see someone elses silhouette sat next to her.
“is that bakugou?”
bakugou's arm was wrapped securely around y/n's shoulders, intently listening to her rambling about whatever she needed to get off her chest.
“i did really bad today.” she mumbled, her voice filled with sadness and frustration.
“and that’s okay.” bakugou comforted her. “one bad doesn't mean you suck. everyone has bad days.” he reassured her, rubbing light circles on her shoulders.
y/n shrugged, playing and picking at her fingers as they rested on her lap. “i just think i’m weak, y’know?” she mumbled once again.
“you're not- hey. look at me.” bakugou squished her cheeks and turned her head to face his. “stop. you think i'd be talking to you like this if you're so weak? hm?”
“no?” she muffled due to how much bakugou was squishing her face.
“exactly. you're strong, so stop putting yourself down because of one off day and keep training.”
“you're hurting my cheeks.”
bakugou let go of her face, lightly patting her cheeks as an apology. “my point is, one bad day doesn't mean you're weak. think about every other time you've kicked ass.”
y/n laughed softly, her face changing from what looked like a kicked puppy to her usual grin. “thank you suki.” she said.
“this is the cutest thing I've ever seen.” mina whispered while clenching her shirt where her heart is tightly.
“who knew the pomeranian could be such a romantic?” jirou teased as ochaco and mina giggled along side of her.
bakugou lightly ruffled the top of y/n's hair, lightly blushing from the way she looked at him with such a lovestruck glance. “you're strong. don't start with that ‘i'm weak’ shit cause i won't hear it.”
“you're so sweet when you want to be.”
“now you're pushing it.”
“why are you only nice to me?” the question caught katsuki off guard.
the couple had been in y/n's dorm room simply sitting in silence, with their legs entangled together and the light noise of the TV playing in the background.
he turned his head slightly to face her, their eyes meeting instantly as she was already looking at him so softly. “why wouldn't i be?” katsuki questioned as his fingers lightly played with her hair.
y/n shrugged, not having a response to his question. it just seemed out-of-character for him. he was the type of person to not let anyone change him, good or bad.
but the crude boy would come to be a puddle of sap when it came to her. even if it wasn't obvious verbally, the ways his eyes softened when they laid upon her was enough said.
“i asked you a question first.” she retorted.
katsuki exhaled sharply, his gaze turning from her to the ceiling as his heart rate sped up a bit. “you're just.. different.”
y/n's eyebrows raised slightly as a smirk stitched itself onto her face. she scooted closer to katsuki's side, leaning her head on his bicep as she stared lovingly at his side profile. “i'm.. different? there's more to that, isn't there?”
“of course there is. you just don't get to know that stuff right now.”
y/n knew that katsuki wasn't one to talk about his feelings. she wasn't looking to change that. but the simple thought of him just looking at her differently from the rest, like shes the only person in every room, made her heart flutter.
“don't think i'm getting soft though.” katsuki grumbled, an arm slipping around her waist as he pulled her impossibly closer.
“you're just… the only exception.”
©LOOKINGFORURAVITY 2024 | please do not copy, translate, or repost my work onto other
TAGLIST: @kaerotica @sweetlike-sugarplum @misfortvne @iridescencefae @awesomesauce-oo @kalulakunundrum
#rea writes !#mha x reader#my hero academia#bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou smut#bakugou x you#bnha#mha bakugou#mha
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Let me tell you some things about American plumbers probably almost none of you know, especially because I've seen people complaining that plumbers make "$42 an hour while I can't even make $15!"
[Note that much of this is state-specific, so ymmv, but most states have an interest in keeping it pretty similar to what I'm going to outline.]
First of all, you have to be licensed, and anything licensed takes forever and costs a fortune. You spend 7 years as an apprentice plumber, which means taking full-time classes on top of full-time work, for which you definitely do not get paid $42 an hour, and you're lucky if you get $20. You're on the hook for all of the tuition and books and whatever else, tools and whatnot, and we all know tuition and books are out of control, but have you seen what decent tools cost these days? This in addition to all of the regular school stuff like a computer, an internet connection, probably a mobile phone of some description, etc. Some you may have already and some you may not.
That's just the education part. Next, even after you've completed your 7 year apprenticeship under extremely strict and exacting standards, for which you get paid almost nothing and have tons of expenses just like any other student, you're still under some kind of supervision for another few years. So you've put in about 10 years into this already and you're nowhere near pulling in the kind of income that people say plumbers make.
But once you actually get into being licensed and bonded and the whole shebang, maybe you get a job with a company, because it's really hard to hang your own shingle, especially in the larger communities where nobody knows anybody else or the quality of their work. You'll work for a plumbing company like anyone else, and let me tell you, it's like any other company where profit matters most and it's for shareholders and not anyone else.
Now comes the part you probably have never heard about: many, many, many plumbers don't really have health insurance for most of their careers, and if they do, it's like the shittiest insurance possible and they have to pay for much of their healthcare out of pocket. Except that these are plumbers, they're constantly on hands and knees on hard, unyielding surfaces, bending, lifting...really physical, difficult work. How many of you actually know how much a toilet weighs? it's anywhere between 50-120 lbs depending on a variety of factors. All that, in addition to actually diagnosing whatever the problem is and knowing how to fix it. Do that for the next 20 years of your life and you're not going to have any knees left, you're going to have a bad back, probably most of your other joints are shot or on the fritz in some way, and this is if you were healthy to begin with and didn't have many health problems during your career. Depending on the collective bargaining agreement, sometimes the unions will cover your healthcare at close to 100% after that, but when it was easier to prevent a lot of it by having time off and the ability to afford care? None of that is covered.
Not only that, but most plumbers don't really get paid time off from work, either, depending on what the agreements are. I know it doesn't seem like plumbers ever work timely, but everyone thinks they have an emergency when the plumbing breaks, and you've got to triage the for-real emergencies alongside the "Timmy backed up the toilet again because he keeps flushing his toys and now there's water and poop and who knows what else everywhere." That's not including the emergency answering services where they're relaying that stuff 24/7/365.
How is that different from most of us today, you might wonder? Because they're literally knee-deep in your shit from morning 'til night. All of the weird stuff you do to screw up your toilets, your sinks, your showers, your fixtures, your pipes, they have to deal with all of it. All of the clogs, the gross hair masses, the half-eaten food from when the disposal stops working, the people who don't know not to flush things they shouldn't, the people who do know and don't care, the floods when the sump pump stops working or there's so much rain it just completely overwhelms it, the people who are sure they can "fix" it, the people who listened to youtube or tiktok and picked the wrong accounts for advice, and most of all, metric tonnes of your actual shit and vomit and whatever other bodily excretions you've got. That is all hazardous enough on its own, and if you think it's gross, I don't think plumbers feel any differently, but it is a part of their job and there's no getting around it. They are paid to deal with all of the stuff no one else wants to even think about. And after they've been exposed to your biohazards for 10 hours a day, they themselves have to pay for any care they need to make sure they don't die from it. You know how many people have dangerous mold in their bathrooms and don't know it? I bet a plumber can tell you.
Those are the conditions with unions trying to fight for them.
[As one more note, not everyone wants to leave home, and that's fine! Why does anyone assume there are no tradespeople in cities when that couldn't be further from the truth? Don't be arses about geography.]
tl;dr: plumbers don't make the money you think they do, they spend half their career earning next to nothing and then when they finally start catching up their bodies are so shot they can't enjoy it; in the middle they have to deal with everybody's grossness and basic repair illiteracy, and they pay for most of it themselves.
source: I was an external auditor for a lot of trade unions.
some of the worst classism is white collar middle class americans against blue collar & minimum wage workers. “why does that plumber make more than me” because he’s been perfecting his craft for 30 years and you send emails. “they’re in the trades bc they’re too dumb to do anything else” ok take that engine apart and put it back together real fast babe. “they’re boring bc they never left their home town” have you considered they financially couldn’t? I am not saying it is anyone’s job to educate, nor you need to respect people who do not respect you, but while you maybe never sympathize we need to learn to empathize. consider why (who) allowed for massive parts of country to be uneducated and how many impoverished areas of this country haven’t had a voice for a very long time. we are all victims of the rich. remember it is up vs down
#yeah your grandpa or your dad or your aunt could do it too#but could they do it RIGHT?#without fucking up anything else in the guts of the house?#and up to code?#you get what you pay for#plumbers#leave them alone#they work hard#trades are extremely important
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Prada's Star
Twice Sana x Male Reader
10K Words
Content Warning: Smut and some plot
Minors DNI
A/N: Good Morning, I was supposed to finish this and post it last night but I ended up falling asleep while editing. I have class in a few hours so I decided i'd get this finished for you guys.
This is NOT the "longer fic" i've been working on. It's a request, but due to the length of the ask, I've decided that i'll post the ask in a separate post. If you don't want spoilers, then don't read the ask...
Enjoy!!! The smut is kind of long
-
This is dangerous, she’s dangerous
-
"Why her?" The first words that you were able to muster after your boss told you that you'd be looking after Minatozaki Sana, the ambassador of Prada who's coming from Korea to attend the Men's show here in Milan. You could've been assigned to literally anyone else—you wanted to be assigned to literally anyone else. Definitely not the woman that's going to get the most attention.
That only meant more work for you.
It was from then on that he explained to you that you're the only bodyguard who's qualified and fluent in Korean so you'd be able to communicate with her as needed. That and the fact that you're getting paid more than usual because of Sana's status.
So there you are, standing by to protect the true star of the show. The moment she steps out of the car it's all eyes on her. When she turns around to reveal her face you can hear the frantic screams of the fanboys and fangirls from across the street. She smiles politely and waves the best she can before she's practically barked at by multiple different assholes holding a camera.
Her dress is short—like really short and you only notice when you catch the way she subtly reaches to pull it down. You step behind her and you pull it down properly for her and when she feels the slight tug she looks back a little shocked to see you there. The eye contact you make in that moment is a bit unnerving but you keep your eyes on hers. You realize there's something about her aura and the way she looks at you that's nearly captivating. She parts her lips slightly to say something to you but then her attention is drawn away by a photographer.
"Miss!! Miss!! Over here" and you have to bring yourself back down to earth, blinking as you force yourself to look elsewhere.
You step out of the way but you still keep her within your reach as a mere safety precaution, counting out the time that you're supposed to give it before she has to go inside. There's nothing else to do but just watch—watch the bright flickers and flashes of the many cameras only hungry to capture her. They barely even budge when another car comes to drop off the other attendees because compared to Sana, they're irrelevant.
There's no doubt she's got a pretty face, from her captivating eyes to her perfectly sculpted nose and the beauty mark placed so perfectly on her cheek. But instead of strictly appreciating the efforts of her make-up artist, your eyes only hopelessly drift downwards. Down to her chest where the dress squeezes her breasts just right to show off her cleavage.
And it's not only that, that has you nearly leering like a pervert.
Just a bit further down, you notice her long and beautifully slim legs. They're covered by a pair of dark stockings and despite the fact that you went to pull her dress down a few seconds ago, it's still so criminally short. So short that if it weren't for the big coat she's got on over it, she'd be exposed.
It takes a few seconds before you're able to completely drink in her appearance because she's a tall glass of temptation—and you're thirsty. The kind of woman that you'll only see once in your entire life, then never again but you'll spend the rest of it thinking about her and comparing her to any other woman that comes into your life. Spoiler alert, they'll never be the same.
You blink, then peel your eyes off of her body and you find it in your weak mind to look somewhere that wasn't her. When you do, you catch the slightest glimpse of Sana's face and she's looking at you with a smirk so sly and suggestive you can feel your cheeks burn red before you look away.
"Great, she probably thinks i'm some kind of perv now" You beat yourself up about it pretty bad, telling yourself that it's embarrassing and that she'll probably be uncomfortable with you touching her or getting too close from then on.
This isn't like you—no, not at all. No matter how attractive a woman is, you'd never eye her body like that. Especially when your job is to protect her. It's inappropriate, it's highly unprofessional and it's.. disgusting.
You hate yourself for it.
Soon, times up and you walk in front of the cameras, absentmindedly putting your hand on Sana's lower back—an accident that makes your heart sink. You pull your hand away quickly and you lean down to whisper, "We have to get going." She nods her head then waves at everyone else before turning around.
The mob of hungry photographers follow you closely, a little too close for your liking. You block them with your arm "Not too close" You say it loud and clear so they can hear over all the commotion. It's a whole mob of them, doing their best to get close all for a damn picture. You think it's ridiculous--which is why you have no tolerance or respect for these people. They aren't "fans" who long for cute interaction or a signature, they're vultures who only care about the profit they'll earn for invading privacy.
Sana's manager is on the other side, blocking people as best as she can. There's a guy who tries to sneak a grab at Sana's arm and you catch him quickly, shoving his shoulder away with ease before he can even touch her. You can tell she's a bit startled by it, but she laughs it off as you guys make it through the doors where only people with the invite are allowed.
"Thank you" Sana smiles
Your words almost get caught up in your throat when you begin to register that she's actually speaking to you right now. Also looking at you and embarrassingly enough you can't bring yourself to look her in the eye, still ashamed of how she caught you staring outside. "I- uh- It's no problem, just doing my job" You stutter, before she turns around to follow her manager to where they're holding the show.
-
On the inside it's boring. Just another fashion show where you'd usually respond to texts or emails and give your boss updates for the majority of the time. Occasionally you'll steal a few pictures of some outfits you find nice or interesting.
This time, your focus is completely on Sana. After what happened earlier, you promised yourself that you wouldn't do it again but here you are, staring once more. She's sitting with her knees pressed together so no matter how hard you look, you can't see up her dress—granted you shouldn't even be trying. What you can see though, her thighs. You catch yourself silently praying to God for forgiveness because the thoughts that cross your mind are just pure filth.
From this angle they look so smooth and soft, something your hands are just aching to touch, feel and squeeze. You think back to when you had to pull her dress down, you could've done it right there—reach your hand down just a little bit more to get a feel of those supple thighs. But you didn't—you couldn't.
You look up, just a bit as she leans over to get a view of the models strutting down the runway and you can see more. Her tits nearly spill out of her dress and you could only imagine what it'd be like if her dress was just a tiny bit tighter.
Once again, in the corner of your eye you catch the exact moment she turns her head to look at you. The sudden movement causes your eyes to catch hers and immediately a flood of shame washes over you as you almost break your neck to look off. "Fucking shit" You mutter under your breath as you pull your phone out, just to occupy yourself really.
You end up spending the first few seconds shakily opening and closing random apps to make yourself look busy. It's the guilt that starts to eat you alive afterwards. You're supposed to be her protector. Now you're almost ninety-nine percent sure she's disgusted with you because she thinks you want to fuck her. It probably makes her uncomfortable—the way you keep on staring at her fucking body with nothing but reckless lust in your eyes.
You should clear the air, apologize and tell her it isn't what it looks like. Then maybe she won't report you to your boss. Just maybe.
-
By the time the show ends, Sana needs to again be escorted to her ride to the afterparty.
You do so the best you can, staying near her at all times, blocking the mob of people waiting with your arm out to protect her. It's the least you can do after everything.
When Sana and her manager are safely in the car, you have to catch your own ride to the afterparty. As planned, you make it there before they do and you wait on the curb for them to arrive.
It's a bit more tame here, of course there's still the fans standing around in the cold weather waiting, but now they're behind a sort of barricade so they can't get too close. The photographers are limited to that space too, so you're sure that thing's will go smoother.
Once they get here, the door slides open and you put your hand out to help her step out of the vehicle. She holds onto you firmly as she gets herself out, you can feel her nails slightly digging into your skin but you don't mind it at all "Thank you" She tells you with a nice smile. You only nod your head as her manager comes out a little later.
After everything, you didn't expect her to look at you—much less speak at you so nicely. It seems like she doesn't completely hate you as much as you've made yourself believe.
On your way inside, Sana decides to stop a bit to sign a few albums and pictures. So you have to be quick in stopping random people from reaching out to touch her hair or her arm or pull on her clothes. People can get really weird when it comes to the people they idolize, it's like boundaries and personal space doesn't exist to them. "No touching please" You vocalize it for her as you push some wandering arms away quickly.
You've been doing this a while, so even when someone thinks they're being slick, you're still able to catch them before they make contact. You're good at what you do. "Enough autographs, lets get inside" You hear the manager say to which you just nod your head.
Sana signs one more photobook before she walks off into the afterparty.
You figure you can let your guard down because there aren't any fans or creepy photographers inside. Just famous and important people talking to other famous and important people. Some people are talking and others are drinking and dancing to the music on the inside. It seems very laid back and casual.
There's nobody here you know or honestly care to know. Yeah, maybe there's some people from the board of directors for Prada and maybe there are some brilliant artists and celebrities but you have no interest in getting to know them. You know they're all a bunch of old people with no personality and more money than anyone could possibly need in their entire lifetime.
However, you still don't forget who you're here for. Although you're only leaning on the wall with a cup of water in your hand, you're still watching her. Sana seems to be having a bit of fun and she's letting herself loose. She's taking shots and dancing with a couple of people she must know from previous events she's been to.
They seem comfortable with each other.
The way Sana dances, moving her hips all smooth and fluid has you staring again. You're aware of what this must look like to anyone else, you're now also aware of the lack of simple discipline you have.
You find out new things about yourself every day, today you realize that you have a thing for Minatozaki Sana.
Of course, the next song that comes on is slower, more sensual too so she's dancing accordingly. The people around her are cheering her on, calling her hot and telling her to keep going. God you wish she'd stop. It's too hot, Sana's too fucking hot. There's no reason she should be moving her body like that in front of everyone, swaying her hips and rolling her body without a care in the world.
You have to shift the way you're standing because now there's an ache in your pants. You're hard in the middle of the afterparty. There's no way you can subtly adjust yourself right now and it's so painfully obvious whats going on in your pant's right now. You set your water down on the table next to you and you're about to go to the bathroom to fix it when you see Sana walking up to you. For the thousandth time today, your heart sinks and you freeze when you see her taking her jacket off, the same jacket that was covering her up.
"Hey! Can you hold onto this for me? It's getting kind of.." You catch the moment her eyes drift down for a split second and you're absolutely mortified. First you open your mouth to apologize so you can then excuse yourself and you waddle to the bathroom with the small bit of dignity you have left but Sana only looks back up at you and strangely she just continues "sorry, it's getting kind of hot in here. Make sure you don't leave it anywhere, yeah?" She smiles at you politely.
"No- Yeah... I guess I'll just stay here with it" You chuckle before she turns off to go back with her friends.
The entire walk there, you can see up her dress and it's just so indecent. Some sick part of your mind is telling you that's she's doing it all on purpose, dancing all slutty just to get you all horny and hard for her. Maybe she likes the attention. You quickly void the thought when you realize just how fucking gross it is to think that way, shifting yourself around ever so slightly because the ache is getting worse.
You don't want to look and just watch the effortless masterpiece that she is. It's too much for you to handle but you just can't bring yourself to look away. Your mind goes places it shouldn't. You're beginning to think about what it'll be like to rip her out of that expensive dress. Well, the material isn't that rip-able but you'd still be able to tear those restricting stockings open and just- "Y/n" A familiar voice interrupts your sinful thoughts and brings you back to reality.
It's the manager and as soon as you realize, you slightly move Sana's jacket so it's hiding the bulge in your pants. "I'm going to be talking to that lady over there for a little bit, just keep an eye on Sana"
"Oh trust me miss, I've been watching her" A breathy chuckle escapes your lips"You have no idea"
You don't say that last part out loud, but you definitely think it.
-
Sana knows what she saw, she knows good and well that when she looked down it was your raging erection poking out of your pants. She wonders if it's her fault—she knows it's her fault. The moment you first locked eyes and when she first caught you staring she knew that she was fucking wrecking you. Just by existing really. She found it cute how embarrassed you'd get whenever she caught you staring.
It was flattering even—but now that she knows how pent up she's got you, she thinks she should help you out. Maybe it's because she's a bit tipsy or maybe it's cause she just finds you attractive, but the way she can feel your eyes on her turns her on. She doesn't even have to look in your general direction to know how much you're staring.
All day, she's managed break you down to this. A man who can't even muster up the will power to look away from her. It's pathetic.
So she get's an idea
"Manager Unnie!" She taps the shoulder of the shorter—but older—woman while she's very obviously in conversation. She turns around with a hum, noticing that Sana's a bit loose from the drinks she's had "I'm think I'm ready to go back to the hotel, I'm sooo tired"
Sana also briefly greets the lady that the manager was talking to "Ah, can you give us maybe another hour? We're talking about a few deals and it may-"
"It's fine! The bodyguard can take me" She cuts in quickly, like the ideas been on her mind since before she came up to them.
It has.
The manager looks back at you, then to Sana "Are you sure?" The tipsy girl only nods with a smug smile on her face. "Give me a second" She mouths to the lady she was speaking to before walking over to you with Sana.
"Hey, Y/n I'm sorry about all this. Sana's ready to go, so if you could possibly take her back to the hotel..." She's obviously a bit apologetic about burdening you with a task you aren't being paid to do.
"Oh yeah, no problem" You blurt out like the people-pleaser you are before noticing what you've just agreed to. You just put yourself in a car alone with Sana. It's not that you have some porn inspired fantasy about being able to fuck her brains out the moment you get her by herself. It's just, from a far you could barely hold yourself together—shit you're still trying to hide the fact that you're all pent up and hard for her right now.
You know you'll probably end up rubbing one out when the nights over. You're just afraid that her presence might just be maybe too much to bear. "Oh that's great! Thank you so much" The Manager smiles thankfully then bows to you out of habit "I have to get back, you two drive safe and text me when you get back, yeah?" She gives Sana a look.
"Of course" She nods to the manager before turning her back to you "Shall we?"
You tilt your head a bit in confusion before she prompts you verbally "My coat"
"Oh- Sorry" You apologize before straightening the thick material out. Then you carefully get her arms through the sleeves, "There we go, all set?" Sana hums with a nice smile before you're ready to escort her.
You have to take the car you drove here, so you escort her outside from a secret exit. There wasn't much time to deal with the fans and crowds of people tonight.
The car ride is mostly silent up until you make it a few minutes away from your destination. Sana sits forwards in the backseat of the car, she's seated directly behind you. You take a glance at the rear-view mirror, noticing how her hand is reaching over the front seat "Hey- uh, you have to wear a seat belt or else you..." You nearly lose your train of thought when she touches your shoulder "I could get a ticket..."
Sana ignores you and instead allows her sneaky hand to slide down your chest. "Y/n... is it?" She asks, still unsure because she's only going off of what she heard the manager call you. You don't respond because you simply can't. You don't know why she's touching you like this nor do you have the slightest clue about why she's using this soft and almost sultry tone of voice when she speaks—but it's making you feel like the airs getting warmer.
Maybe it's cause she had a few drinks, you've got no clue but you're sure of one thing—she's turning you on. It's a real shame. Just when you were beginning to get a grip from the scene at the after party, she touches you once and your pants are immediately getting tighter than they were before.
You only repeat what you said before because they're the only words you're able to muster. That and it's a fact that the police are strict about seatbelts here. But Sana merely hums and once again disregards your words "I just wanted to tell you that you did a great job protecting me today"
"Uh.. thank you. I try my best" You nod as her hands draw soft movements along your shoulder and to your chest "But, Miss you really need to-"
"Sana" She corrects you "You can call me that" She's leaning forwards a bit and her lips are so close to your ear that her words send a chill right down your spine. You choose not to say anything because there's nothing at all sensible that comes to your mind. She's got you panicking, your palms sweating as you switch lanes.
This is dangerous, she's dangerous
Then her eyes flicker down—down to where you've been so embarrassingly hard for her since the after party "How about I help you out with your little problem down there? You can think of it as a reward for protecting me so well"
Your throat goes dry as you pull into the parking lot of the hotel "I'm not sure what you mean by that miss" You feign innocence, reaching down to put the vehicle in park.
Sana only sits back in her seat, withdrawing herself from you so you can finally breathe "Come sit with me in the backseat and you'll find out." You notice that her tone is all cute and naughty. You sit there for a moment, not even being able to move your hand from the stick shift. You know you shouldn't. You should just ignore her and help her to her hotel room, she doesn't seem like the type to push if you tell her no.
Then you begin to think about the consequences—what might happen if anyone finds out. You could get fired. Somehow, someway, despite everything in your living being telling you not to—you step out of the car and you slide the door to the backseat open to get inside just like she told you to. You wipe your palms in your pants and Sana scoots over to you, pulling you in by the lapel of your jacket. Usually, you'd be upset by the rough way in which she's handling it—cause it isn't cheap—but not this time when her lips are colliding with yours.
You kiss her back and it's even better than you imagined. Her lips are so soft and plump there's no possible way that you could ever get enough of them. She hums softly while you kiss her and you reach down to do exactly what you've been longing to—what you've been thinking about since she first stepped out of the car earlier today. You grab her supple thigh and you squeeze it hard, feeling the way it nearly gives in your grip. She moans, then her hand slides down from your chest all the way to your pants. She rubs your cock softly through the fabric and the growl that bubbles in your throat is nearly primal.
Utter anticipation as she brings her other hand down to properly get your pants unbuttoned and your zipper down. She pulls away from the kiss and in the darkness you notice that her lipstick is slightly smudged as she gets her fingers hooked around your waistband "I saw the way you've been watching me, more specifically my body" She mutters as you lift your hips, just so she can pull it down along with your boxers. "My legs, my ass, my tits..." She emphasizes the delivery of each body part as if she were trying to prove some kind of point. When your dick springs out she gasps, then licks her lips before looking back up at you "and I also know you've been like this since the afterparty"
Sana wraps her fingers around your shaft and you can only throw your head back, exhaling softly as you feel the soft warmth of her hands. She begins to stroke you up and down nice and slow "It's your fault" You grit through your teeth to suppress a moan that almost creeps it's way out.
"Yeah?" She giggles as she repositions herself in the car. Sana shifts to her knees and pulls off her coat, letting it fall to the ground before she ducks her head down. She grabs a hold of your cock again, flicking her wet tongue on the head. You get your fingers threaded through her dark red hair and you're probably ruining an hours worth of hard work by her hair dresser but she doesn't seem to mind. In fact, it seems that she likes it.
Sana takes you into her mouth and continues to stuff you deeper "Oh my God" You mutter and she only giggles the best she can with her mouth full of you. The feeling of pure raw pleasure is dizzying, it's the way her smooth tongue drags up and down the side of your shaft as she bobs her head up and down. Then the enhanced sensitivity when it brushes up against your frenulum on the way up. "Sana.." You say her name for the first time and it feels so right, like it's only fitting for your voice. "That's so fucking good"
She moans, then hums when she feels a slight tug at her scalp. It's a silent plea your body makes to urge her for more as the greed overcomes you. Sana acknowledges this, then she begins to suck, creating an almost vacuum tight seal as she bobs her head up and down. It catches you off guard and your hips buck as you hiss at the feeling.
Her lips feel incredible wrapped around your cock. The moist suction has you moaning and groaning uncontrollably like you never have before. You bite your lip and shut your eyes as she goes faster with her hand at the base stroking you while she sucks you off and then her tongue begins to swirl around on the shaft. "S-Slow down" You let out a shaky breath, moaning softly and she releases you with a pop.
"What?" She licks her lips, a devilish smile on her face as she continues to jerk you with her grip tight. Then she playfully flicks her tongue on the tip.
"I'm close" You feel your face burning redder than it already is because she hasn't even done much and you're already about to lose it.
"What? You scared you're gonna blow a load in my mouth before we get to the good part?" You swallow and you open your mouth to say something, but Sana drags her tongue along the tip and you forget it all. She hums at the taste of your salty pre-cum thats been non-stop leaking down your shaft ever since she got her mouth on you. "Listen, this is what's gonna happen" She jerks your cock slowly as she speaks with her voice hushed "You're going to cum in my mouth... then you're going to take me up to my room where I'll let you fuck me senseless. Sounds good?"
You nod your head, unable to form any words as Sana lowers her head again. The moment she gets her warm mouth on you, your cock is already twitching. "Fucking.. hell" You moan, hearing and feeling the muffled giggle she makes on your cock. The way she works her tongue, the warmth of her mouth, the soft feel of her velvety inner cheeks... it's something you've never felt before.
Of course, you've had many blowjobs in the past but this is the first time you're getting one from Sana. You've gotta admit it's the best you've ever had.
The moment Sana begins to suck and swirl her tongue around your tip, you're a goner. She reaches her other hand to massage your balls and in a flash, you're cumming. "Sana... i'm gonna fucking.." When she feels the first rope hit the roof of her mouth, she hums, smiling the best she can as you pulse and throb in her mouth. You can't contain your choked up noises as your body heats up and the pure ecstasy takes over you.
You feel all of it leave your entire being—the frustration and the desire you felt from watching her all day, it washes away in a flash. Sana carefully takes you out of her mouth, making sure not to spill anything before she opens her mouth to show you how much you came. Her mouth's nearly filled to the brim with it. You can only just sigh, a dazed look in your eye as you watch her close her mouth to swallow it all in one gulp.
Sana licks her lips clean, then she leans in to kiss you. Of course, you let her and you don't even mind tasting the remnants of your seed on her lips. Already, you feel your cock hardening again just from making out with her and hearing the small noises she makes on your lips. Her moans sound different this time, it feels more raw and needy rather than cute but it's still sexy all the same. You quickly remember what she just told you.
She wants you to fuck her senseless.
"Let's go" You mutter against her lips before breaking the kiss completely to messily pull your pants up. It takes a moment, but you're able to get yourself together quickly and step out of the car. Outside is cold and windy, it greatly contrasts from the intense heat inside of the car so you shiver a bit, holding your hand out to help Sana exit the car.
When you make it into the elevator, the sexual tension is unbelievable. The only reason why the two of you aren't ripping each other's clothes off is because you have to wait. It's so tempting because you're standing so close together in this empty space where it seems like nobody can see you.
The cameras can
Finally, you make it to Sana's floor and the two of you walk all the way to her room. Sana swipes her keycard and unlocks the door, stepping inside with you behind her. You close the door and as soon as the lock clicks, your lips are together once again. You grab her coat and you push it back to help her get it off. Once it falls to the ground you don't care enough to step around it, you actually step on it as you get her to the bed.
Sana sits on the edge of the bed and you stand in front of her, pulling your lips off of hers as you reach your hand down to her thigh. You squeeze it and for a moment you think about taking her stockings off all nice and careful because you're not sure how much they're worth. Then you end up using both of your hands to rip them apart just like you thought of doing earlier. "Do you know how much this costs?" Sana squeals at the force that you use to tear the expensive fabric as you continue to pull them off.
"No" You mutter, getting her heels off as well. Once they're off, you get your hands on her soft and smooth legs and they feel even better like this.
"Me neither, it was a gift" Sana giggles as you reach to get her safety shorts off and her panties go along with it. You're not wasting any of the precious time you have with her tonight. There's no telling that you'll ever get an opportunity like this again. So you reach underneath her dress and you palm her wet cunt, feeling her warm juices seep between your fingers. "Fuck" She murmurs under her breath and you notice that the confidence in her tone that was just there a moment ago has vanished.
Now she needs you more than ever right now. The tables have turned, now you're the one in control and she's the one who's about to be a mumbling, stuttering mess under you.
"You have no clue..." You mutter when you bury your two fingers inside of her, eliciting a sudden gasp. You take note of how easily they go in and the look in Sana's dazed eyes makes it seem like she's not even there mentally "...what you've been doing to me today"
She moans, then bites her lip as you work your fingers inside of her clenching cunt. "I think i've got an idea" she mumbles, words coming out almost as messy as her make-up looks right now. Sana pulls you closer, then she unzips your fly and pulls your cock out of your pants "You're gonna ruin me with this thing" This sexy smirk appears on her lips and you only bury your fingers deeper inside of her.
Sana gasps, then pulls you by your suit to get you closer to her. "Sure, but first you're gonna cum on my fingers." She whines at this, but you value foreplay. Also, Sana looks too good in this dress for you to get it off of her just yet. Especially when she's got her legs spread for you. You take a deep breath in with your nose buried in her hair and you kiss along the flesh of her neck. Some hair strands get in your mouth, but you keep kissing her there, hearing it in real time as her sounds get needier.
There's no way you can just sit there and ignore the messy noise on your fingers as you pump them in and out of her. She covers it up real well with her pretty moans, but it's almost embarrassing how noticeable it is. Sana is so wet that it's leaking down your hand and staining the sheets beneath her and the dress she's got on. "You're so fucking wet for me, so ready to have me inside you" You mutter it into her ear and the way her body shudders is almost priceless.
Sana nods her head the best she can "Please..." She starts off, hands gripping at your arms . You pull back to look into her eyes "Please give it to me" She begs, giving you a set of puppy eyes that almost makes you question your own judgement.
A low chuckle escapes your lips when you notice the way her legs begin to shake as you glide your fingers in and out of her. You want to watch it all happen, the moment she first falls apart for you. You need to take it all in. This side of her is one that only few people get to see and you're lucky enough to have the privilege of witnessing it before your eyes.
The way her eyes squint as her brown pupils try to keep themselves visible, how her lips part to let out those beautiful high pitched moans. Everything is better this way "Fuck... I'm-" She can't even finish her sentence before her orgasm rips through her. A loud moan escapes her lips and her hips grind forwards.
"There you go, Sana" You hum "Cum for me" As you continue to move your fingers, Sana's eyes clamp shut and she throws her head back with loud moans flying freely from her mouth.
When she's finally done, you have to wrap your arms around her to hold her up. You kiss her again but this time you make it last longer. You move your lips against each others like it's a fight and you know you've won once she lets your tongue inside her mouth. You reach down to take off her belt and you toss it to the side, then you pull down the zipper to her dress.
You break the kiss to help her get it off fully to reveal her strapless bra "Take it off" You step back as you begin to get your own clothes off. Sana immediately does as you say, then she sits herself further on the bed, leaning back on her forearms to spread her legs. She bites her lip softly as she trails her hand down her body to tease as you struggle with the buttons of your shirt.
"Take your time" Sana giggles playfully while her fingers spread her cunt.
Once you finally get your shirt off, you kick off your shoes and you drop your pants and your boxers. There's no time to leave them anywhere else but the pile on the floor because you can barely control yourself when you climb onto the bed to get your body on hers finally. "You're dangerous" You press your lips against hers as you settle yourself in between Sana's legs.
You first notice how she's made you completely forget about using protection. It's a stupid fucking risk—you know it is but you just can't bring yourself to ruin everything and bring it up. She doesn't seem to mind so why should you? As you suck on Sana's tongue you begin to line yourself up with her entrance. It's wet but she's so tight, making it a bit hard for you to get it in smoothly.
To focus, you pull your lips off of her and you look down. Finally you're able to properly guide the head inside of her tight cunt. She moans softly when she first feels the stretch and you groan at the tight grip "Fuck- please don't tease I need it deep"
You're not teasing, you're giving yourself a second to prepare yourself before you sink all the way in. She feels too fucking good, better than you thought she would. You should've known, Sana's full of surprises. The way her walls hug you heightens every sensation and lights each one of your nerves on fire. You need to remind yourself that you can't just stay like that forever. You have to do something to let it be known that she chose the right guy to take care of her tonight.
So you thrust your hips forwards, feeling the way her nails immediately dig into your biceps as a response. She winces as you bury yourself all the way to the hilt but otherwise she takes you very well "You okay?" You ask softly, stopping your own voice from shaking as she clenches around you.
Sana nods so you decide to reposition yourself to sit on your heels, getting a good grip on her thighs before you begin to move. You start off slow, moving at an easy pace so she can get used to your size. "Sana... you feel so fucking good" You groan, fingers digging through her flesh so hard it's leaving red marks on her pale skin.
"Please- Just don't stop- okay?" The look in her eye tells you that she just might cry if you stop, so you speed up a little. Sana's back hits the mattress and she tries so hard not to close her eyes as she feels the intense stretch your thick cock gives her. She loves it.
You watch the way her tits bounce up each time your hips meet hers and you've got to admit it almost hypnotizes you. Her body looks so perfect, skin sleek, flesh red and warm as you give her everything you have to offer—every single inch that the angle will allow—she deserves that much simply for being who she is. A goddess who's decided to bless you with her body tonight.
Her moans fill up the room. At first she was trying to hold them in, now she's letting them out freely. It feels like an honor to hear her get this loud. The people in the next rooms can probably hear how good you're fucking her. It's so obscene and you love it. "Your fucking cock- fuck it's so-" She's barely able to formulate proper sentences, but she can get enough across with one word "Please- Deeper... need you deeper inside of my fucking pussy" She begs "Please.. more"
Without any words you lean forwards, pressing on the backs of her thighs to put her in a mating press. This allows you to get your cock deeper in her and you begin to pound into her roughly in this position. The force of your first thrust knocks the air out of her lungs, the only thing that can be heard are her gasps and choked up moans as you continue.
"Yes-yes-yes-yes-yes-yes" She chants, eyes slammed shut as you fill her to the brim with your balls slapping against her ass each time you bottom out. You can hear the wet sticky sounds getting louder and louder as you fuck Sana. You can also feel her cunt quivering around your cock and you can tell that she's already close again. "Please- keep fucking... Oh my God" She mouths the last part because her voice goes silent against her will.
"Yes Sana, cum on my fucking cock... you know you need to" You groan, feeling your balls twitch as your orgasm is also imminent.
You think about pulling out right after she's done cumming, but as soon as you feel that foreign feeling of her warm, tight cunt pulsing and clenching you, your mind goes blank. "You're gonna make me cum, you're gonna make me fucking- Ah!" Sana moans and she's cumming again, body shaking and stuttering more violently than it was before. She doesn't stop there though, it keeps going for a long while, like you've forced her into an ever-lasting orgasm.
"Jesus, Sana" You moan, thrusting feverishly into her as you watch her entire body snap and unravel before your very eyes. It's the last sight you see before you begin shooting your load deep inside of her without warning. You didn't even notice when you reached the point of no return, you were too focused on Sana to realize just how close you were. "Fuck.. I'm sorry" You slip your cock out and watch as your seed drips out of her.
That's not a sight you were sorry for
Sana only giggles, pulling you back down to lay on top of her again "It's okay, baby" She mumbles before she presses her lips against yours. You make out breathlessly for a little while before Sana reaches down to cup your balls in her hands "You got any more for me?" She asks to which you just sigh without really responding.
With a smirk on her face, Sana makes a move to push your shoulder lightly. You catch the drift and you lay back onto the bed, allowing her to straddle your lap. Her tits bounce slightly with the quick movement she makes as she hovers a bit to get you inside of her again. She holds your cock in place and allows the tip to part her lips just before she completely sinks down slowly until your bodies meet. You see the way her face gives into the pleasure, taking note of how she attempts to hide it before she leans down to kiss you again.
She can't contain the small moans she makes into the kiss when she begins to move at her own pace, hips moving forward and backwards. A groan bubbles in your throat because the way she takes control is destroying you. Sana breaks the kiss and straightens her arms out so she can plant them on your shoulders. This gives her more leverage to ride you a little faster.
You reach your hand around to leave a light tap on her butt, then you end up using your hands to hold both cheeks. They're just as soft as the skin on her thighs and you just can't keep your hands off of her, it's almost like your palms are glued there.
Sana smiles, then guides one of your hands away from her ass. She stops moving her hips for a second as sits still as she puts your hand over her belly "You're this deep right now" She reveals, pressing your hand into her body so you can feel just how deep you are. You don't exactly know what to say to that, Sana once again leaves you speechless.
There's no time to talk though before she begins to bounce on your cock again, this time moving up and down with the roll of her hips. You knew she'd be good at this from the way she was dancing at the after party, it's crazy that she knows how to move her body in just the right ways.
You take some time to admire her entire being, from her beautiful lust-filled eyes to her swollen pink lips. Your eyes drift to her chest and you're stuck staring at her breasts again. You move your hands from her ass and you reach up to grab two handfuls of the warm flesh. "I really can't get enough of your cock" Her tone is so fun and playful when she says it and you can't help but smile back at her when you notice the subtle glimmer in her eye.
She grinds down nice and slow, then leans forwards so your hands slide down to her waist. "and I can't get enough of you" You mutter just before she kisses you again. Kissing Sana feels oddly nice, it gives you this fluttering feeling inside that you've never felt with anyone else before. Your tongues dance together in the same smooth and soft way that she's riding you, matching the pace. It's really slow and almost intimate—as if you're life long partners who already know each other's bodies.
Even if it's not the case you let yourself believe it and live in it for the moment. That's until the unhurried pace becomes unbearable for you. There's a burning desire for her in the pit of your stomach that creeps it's way in and your hips begin to move, thrusting up involuntarily. Sana whines at the first shallow thrust you make up into her sopping cunt and it only tells you that she needs more. "Please"
So you tighten your grip on her waist and you begin to fuck her, rough and fast. Maybe it's the angle, or maybe you've got her close again but her moans are louder this time. She's nearly screaming, head buried into the crook of your neck as you pound into her relentlessly. "Oh- Fuck yes- just like that baby! Please don't stop.. don't fucking stop" She begs you like her life depends on the event that your cock keeps hitting that same spot inside of her.
It's taking a lot of energy and strength for you to hold this position, it doesn't take long before every single muscle inside of you begins to burn and you don't know how much longer you can hold out. The way she's begging keeps you going though, so you don't stop. You push through, gaining some sort of fuel from her moans and the punishing slapping noises that are coming from between your legs.
"Oh fuck- If you keep-" You barely even hear what she's saying so you write it off as dumb ramblings "You're gonna make me-" Then all of a sudden, she gets tighter—so unbelievably tight that your cock slips out of her and Sana squeals then a warm sticky river spills all over your abs as she trembles in your grip.
You slap her ass, a cocky chuckle escaping your lips when you realize that you just made her squirt. "I didn't think you'd be a squirter" You grab your cock and slide it back inside of her, continuing to fuck her as if nothing happened. Sana doesn't respond, the only thing that can come out of her are broken moans that hurt her hoarse voice. Then of course there's the curses and pleas for you to go faster, harder, deeper inside of her. You try your best, but you're only a man after all.
So against Sana's demands, you pull out mostly because you're tired and partially because you were getting close. "N-No... please" She begs, trying her best to guide your cock back inside of her but she can only whine tiredly when you slip from beneath her. "I was so close.." A tired sigh escapes her lips as she lays there all naked, flushed and sweaty.
You stand up from the bed, hand fisting your stiff cock as an idea pops into your mind. You look over to the door to the balcony "Get up" You order, grabbing Sana by the arm and pulling her roughly to help her up because you're not too inclined on waiting for her to register what you've just told her.
Sana only moans softly as you get her on her feet "What are you doing?" She asks as you reach for the balcony door. "Wait- no" She pulls back as you open the door.
"I want you on the balcony"
"But... what if someone sees?" You can tell that she looks a bit scared about it, but it doesn't seem like she'll fight you on it.
"Then i'll make sure we give them a show"
Sana just looks as you, blinking as if she didn't hear what you said. However, when you pull her through the door and into the cold night she doesn't resist. Sana lets you bend her over the black metal railing where she's exposed to the entire city. You guide your cock to her entrance and you slide yourself in nice and easy before you grab her by the arms.
That's when you begin to fuck her from behind with the view of Milan before you. With her status, you can't deny the fact that you're surprised that she's actually letting you fuck her out in the open like this. It's reckless, it's degrading, it's slutty and maybe it's everything she's ever wanted.
The noises your hips make on impact with her soft ass are so loud that you're sure it can be heard on the ground but still you don't slow or stop. Sana's trying her best to keep quiet, but she can't help the whimpers and the whines that escape her lips when the head of your cock nudges past a specific spot inside.
You watch how perfect her body looks while she's being fucked like this. It jolts forwards with each thrust, her head unable to keep still from the force. Her ass jiggles each time you make it to the hilt and the way the skin ripples is almost like water. Then there's the perfect shade of pink her skin has blended into from everything.
You're quite literally fucking her senseless, just like she asked you to and she's fucking loving it.
There's something that you don't quite like though—she's too quiet. So you let go of one of her arms to instead thread your fingers through her hair to get a firm grip on her scalp. You pull Sana's head back and for the first time, she moans out loud. "Go ahead and let it all out darling" You hear her gasp and then, like you've flipped a switch in her you feel her juices spilling between her legs and staining the floor.
Maybe she took your words literally
You decide to keep your hand in her hair because she obviously likes it and you tug a bit harder just to test things out. Sure enough, she moans even louder than before and so you reward her by changing up the pace. You slide yourself in all the way, deep and slow to ensure that she feels every single throbbing inch of you.
The way she clenches around you doesn't help in the slightest, in fact she's already got you nearly ready to burst. Sana's pussy just feels too good. It's so unbelievably wet, warm and tight and each time you pump into her you feel some sort of obligation to savor the moment. "Look at you, Sana... you take my cock so fucking well" Your words make her entire body shudder "I wonder what people would say if they saw you getting fucked like this"
Sana only gasps, words getting caught and stuck in her throat as your cock slides in and out of her. "If they could only hear how wet you are for my cock right now" You mutter, speeding up just a little bit, hearing her whine and moan into the night.
"Please- please fuck me faster" She finally musters up some words and of course it's a plea for you to continue your punishing pace from before. You only hum as if you couldn't hear her, tugging on her hair again for emphasis "I said I want you to fuck me faster! Just fucking- please! I need your cock pounding into me until I can't speak anymore"
You chuckle, then you begin to slam your body into hers at full force "Like this?" You grunt shakily because this is a real work out for you.
"Oh- fuck yes" She nods "Yes, that's right fucking destroy me with that big cock of yours" She moans loudly and you let go of her other arm just so you can slap her ass again so hard that it leaves a red handprint behind. You then grab her waist, allowing Sana to use her hands to brace herself on the metal bars on the balcony in front of her. "You're so fucking deep- fucking stretching me so good- just like that baby! Don't stop, please don't fucking stop"
"I wouldn't fucking dream of it" You growl "I'm going to make you fucking cum on my cock for the entire world to see"
"Fuck- yes please!" Sana's body begins to shake uncontrollably in your grip and her legs go weak. So you hold her up and you continue to pound into her. "I'm so fucking... close" Her moans sound loud and labored now, like she's maybe two seconds away from giving in.
Just a few more hard and rough strokes and... "Oh shit- I'm cumming baby!" She keens with her body nearly seizing in your grip. You let go of her hair and you wrap your arms around her weak body to hold her close, grinding your hips into her to help her ride it out.
"Don't worry Sana, I've got you" You whisper sincerely as you allow her to fall apart in your arms. You feel her pulsing wildly inside and it's only a matter of time before it's your turn.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" She moans wildly as you thrust into her slowly all the way until you stop and then you pull out. You don't waste any time to spin her tired body around and pick her up, holding her by the thighs as she wraps her legs tightly around your waist. You slide yourself back inside of her familiar cunt that's now shaped of you. "Oh my fucking god" Sana bites her lip, wrapping her arms around your neck.
"Sana" You mumble through your heavy breaths "I'm going to cum inside you again" You warn, knowing that there was no other appropriate place to do it tonight. By this time you've forgotten about the freezing temperature and all the eyes that could be on you right now. All that mattered right now was Sana, and the pleasure her body was giving you.
"Yes!" She moans as your cock glides in and out of her "Please fill me up! Give me everything baby.. need to feel your warm cum deep inside"
You feel your balls twitch and that's when the first rope shoots out and pools inside of her cunt. "That's right baby" Sana coos and you groan deeply, thrusts getting messy and indirect as your cock pulses out endless ropes of cum inside of her. You're stuck in a different realm, head cocked to the night sky as your vision goes blurry and your lips part to let out the only noises you can make.
You're stuck like that for a while before the wind of the cold air hits your body and you begin to shiver. So you carry Sana back inside of the room, closing the door behind you before you lay her body onto the bed. You crawl in after her and you end up falling asleep in each other's arms.
-
You're woken up in the morning to some persistent tapping on your arm. You groan groggily and your eyes flutter open "Hey, get up. You have to go" You hear her voice and your ears perk up.
"What?" You mumble, sitting up and wiping the sleep out of your eyes. The sight before you is pure beauty. Sana's fresh out of the shower, wearing a robe with a towel wrapped around her head.
"My manager's coming over soon to take some pictures and stuff, so you have to leave" She repeats once more.
You nod your head, then you remember everything that happened last night. It's like the flashes of random moments and echos of her beautiful moans that you hear faintly. She's about to walk back into the bathroom but you stop her "Wait" She turns around upon hearing your voice, a kind of impatient look on her face as she waits for you to say something "Last night was... amazing"
A small smile forms on Sana's lips "Yeah it was, handsome" You smile a bit when you hear the nickname she gives you. "But seriously, you've gotta get your things and-"
"Will I see you again? How long are you staying in Milan for?"
"Not long, I've got to get back to Korea in a couple of days" She shrugs, then gives you these pitiful set of eyes "and no, we probably won't see each other again"
For some reason, her words feel like a punch in the gut. The thought that you'll never see her again after everything that happened just hurts. "You've got someone waiting for you back in Korea?" You break eye contact, not being able to stand the way she's looking at you. It's more of an assumption than a question because you've already made your mind up. She's probably got a nice guy waiting for her back home and you were just one fun night for her.
You notice how she practically ignores the question before she sit's at the edge of the bed "Listen, you just gave me a night that i'll probably remember for the rest of my life... but I hope you can understand that that's all it was. One night."
So with that, you left
You didn't argue, you didn't get upset and you didn't sulk about it. You just gathered your things and left without even a number. You still think about her often, mostly when you see her on the news or when you see someone that slightly resembles her.
Sometimes you smell the scent of her shampoo or her perfume on someone else and it takes you back to that night, leaving this sinking feeling in your chest. Maybe it's your mind playing tricks on you but there's been a few instances where you could've sworn you heard her voice or maybe even her laugh.
It's embarrassing to admit but you've spent so much money to only see her whenever she goes on tour. You get barricade in hopes that she'll remember you and you can recall a time that you think you made eye contact with her but she gave no reaction.
You miss her.
You spend almost every night replaying the one you spent together, wondering if you could've done something to make her need you.
#twice#anon ask#kpop gg#sana twice#twice sana#minatozaki sana#kpop idol#kpop smut#smut#girl group smut#sana x male reader#male reader#sana x reader#sana smut#sana minatozaki
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Melting Pot IV
McFoord x Child!Reader
Ruesha Littlejohn x Child!Reader
woso-dreamzzz Kids x Child!Reader (Kiddo)
Summary: Sports day with a bunch of hyper competitive people
"Ouch!"
Caitlin sighs, massaging her temples as she comes down the stairs.
It had already been a loaded morning, crammed full of everything and nothing at the same time.
"Stop it!"
She'd only been upstairs for a moment, separating Gremlin's kitten from your own.
They were two vastly different cats.
Gremlin's Spicy was angry, a walking ball of fuzz that leapt first and asked questions later. He was liable to throwing up hairballs while making eye contact and bringing in dead rats from the railroad tracks.
Your Baby was the opposite, a demure little lady who groomed herself all the time and took naps on your blanket. She craved affection and wound herself around ankles whenever anyone even so much as looked at her.
Two vastly different cats like their vastly different owners.
"Hey!" Katie snaps as Caitlin turns the corner," Gremlin, knock it off! Leave your sister alone!"
A very clear bite mark is on your wrist as you sob, curled up on Katie's lap as she struggles to get your sister's shoes on her feet.
"I've got her," Caitlin says, nudging her girlfriend away," Go and put Kiddo in the car."
Usually, a Saturday morning meant a chill day.
Sleeping until noon and having some brunch. Most of the time pancakes, sometimes waffles if Katie could be bothered to get out the waffle maker.
But today was Sports Day at the school so you were all up bright and early to make it there in time.
Caitlin already knew how this was going to go though.
Gremlin would get hyper competitive and most likely push someone over in her haste to win and you would linger at the back of your pack of peers with no hint of athletic ability in you.
Your little sister was much younger than you so she was separated with the other nursery age girls while you were included in your class.
"That wasn't very nice," Caitlin says as she slips the leash straps over Gremlin's shoulders," You know your sister is sensitive. Why did you bite her?"
Gremlin shrugs. "Dunno."
"Well, I think you should apologise."
"Dragons not say sorry!"
"And dragons don't exist," Caitlin replies, hoisting Gremlin up onto her hip," Maybe you should think about that."
You've stopped crying by the time you're all in the car, a few fingers in your mouth and the other hand out for Katie to hold during the drive, Gremlin's ring of teeth marks displayed so obviously.
"Sorry," Your sister mumbles to you, kicking the seat in front of her.
"For?" Katie prompts.
"Bitin' you."
You mumble your thanks through your fingers just as Caitlin pulls up in front of the school.
She can see a few of the parents she knows well heading into the gates.
Life working at the fire station tended to bond people.
Leah is corralling Bean inside while Jordan (who used to work at the fire station but left after one too many near death scares) crosses the street with their Bug. Lia, their constantly exasperated admin person, is crossing the street with her Guppy as well, joining up with the two of them with a smile.
"Alright," Katie says, turning to look back at her two daughters," Remember what I said about today?"
"It doesn't matter if we don't win because you'll still love us the same," You recite through a mouthful of your fingers and Katie smiles.
"That's exactly right."
You hold Mammy's hand as you all cross the road.
Mammy holds Caitlin's hand. You hold Mammy's. Your little sister holds yours.
She raises your wrist up to her mouth and you tense but all she does is give you a little kiss on the bite mark.
"Sorry," She says again.
"It's okay."
Gremlin smiles at you and you smile back,
"Hey," Katie says, swinging your joined arms," Ma's over there."
It wasn't your week with Rue but she's still come to your sports day and the only hint of athletic ability you possess is put into running over to her.
"Ma!" You cry and she hoists you into her arms instantly.
"Look at you! Looking good, kiddo!" Rue says, bouncing you up and down as you lean into her, breathing in her familiar smell. "You ready for today?"
Your stomach suddenly starts swirling a little.
You know Katie's views on your sports day performance. You don't know Rue's.
"I won't be very good," You say softly, barely above a whisper.
"You don't have to be good," Rue says decisively," Listen, I've got permission from your Mammy that after this is over, we can go to that fancy bakery you like and get some cakes before I take you back to her. Would that be nice?"
"And we can get cupcakes?"
"As many cupcakes as you like!"
Like you thought, you don't do overwhelmingly well at sports day.
You lag behind in the races and in the big jumping. You do fairly well at throwing the beanbags into the hula hoops but that's about it.
Sports day finishes with the sporty girls winning like everyone thought and a big barbecue to celebrate.
Your little sister eats a lot, Caitlin gets you cotton candy and your mothers even end up being civil.
"Caitlin," You say as your eyes rove around the school field," Why are the mummies and big sisters stretching?"
"Huh?"
Caitlin has a piece of beef hanging out of her mouth.
You point.
Over on the far end by the fence, Alexia and Jenni are stretching their legs. Leah is a few feet away doing the same. Alessia is jumping up and down a few times, warming up her muscles.
Even Katie is doing the same, chatting away to one of Bear's mummies.
"Well that's for the parent race."
"Parent race?"
"Uh-huh." Caitlin takes a wet napkin to Gremlin's face. "So the mummies can all race each other to see who's the best."
"But why?"
"Because adults can be competitive too. They get bragging rights."
That sounds...
Well it doesn't exactly sound weird.
Mammy and Caitlin work at the fire station together and you know all the firefighters there are super competitive with each other.
You didn't know that other adults were competitive too.
"Be careful, Magda," You hear one of Princesse's mummies say," You're not as fit as you used to be."
"Please," Princesse's other mummy scoffs," I'm not letting anyone beat me."
"If you pull a muscle, you get no sympathy from me."
You turn back to Caitlin in alarm. "Is Mammy going to hurt herself?"
"No...Probably not...Hopefully not."
That doesn't fill you with much confidence as Katie takes her place on the starting line.
It's carnage the moment the start is called as adults shove each other and get their legs tangled and fall to the ground in heaps.
Katie goes crashing into the ground in a heap with Leah, Steph and Lucy. Alexia and Jenni collide with each other and Irene. Mapi somehow trips over herself.
Against all odds, it seems, Duckie's mummy Jessie comes first.
Squish's mummy Frida is second and Conejita's mummy Caro ends up in third.
"Get off!" Katie says, shoving the pile of people off of her as you, Caitlin and Gremlin approach.
You crouch next to her.
"It's okay, Mammy," You say," You didn't have to win. I still love you the same."
#woso x reader#mcfoord x reader#katie mccabe x reader#katie mccabe#caitlin foord x reader#caitlin foord#ruesha littlejohn x reader#ruesha littlejohn#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso#melting pot
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❝ It was twelve in the morning and Rafe still hadn't come to bed as he promised he would. ❞
As you step into the doorway of his study, Rafe doesn't look up, though his shoulders tense and the grip on his pen tightens.
"Ever heard of knocking?" He remarks, eyes glued to the papers strewn across the desk before him.
“You said you'd be in bed by nine," She steps inside, "It's twelve.” She sighs, slipping into his study fully. The material of her night gown flowing behind her like a second shadow.
The nightgown she had bought and worn just for him.
For tonight.
Suffice to say, Rafe forgot.
"What're you doing in here, hon'? It's late." he questions, voice hoarse from the lack of sleep. His eyes flicker over to his laptop screen— but not to her.
“We were supposed to spend tonight together, Remember?” She relays, she could feel the flush at her cheeks.
God. This was embarrassing, she was practically begging for her own husband's attention.
He looked up from the stack of paperwork on his desk as she stepped into the study. His eyes softened, his furrowed brows now lay relaxed and he leaned back in to his chair. What was she going on about?
“Rafe?” She calls out, awaiting his answer.
"Hon' I'm trynna' work here— I'll— we have tomorrow 'kay?" His eyes shift back down to his computer screen.
“You promised— tonight.” she cuts in, eyeing him through her lashes.
"We shouldn't do this, hon'. I've got this deadline and the client's being an ass—" he begins softly, his voice betraying his own internal conflict.
Fine. If he wanted to work so bad, then she'd let him work.
She didn't notice the way he shivered at the sight of her though. She didn't notice how the way she gazed at him sent waves of desire coursing through his body. He clenched his jaw, trying to resist the urge to simply get up and take her then and there.
Her head tilted slightly, prompting him to continue,
He felt his pants tighten and his skin tingle at her gesture, sending his desire spiralling. He knew he should resist, that he should push her away and focus on his work, but the thought of his skin meeting hers was too strong to ignore.
"We— I shouldn't be doing this." He repeated, his resolve weakening.
His hands tightened around the edge of his desk, knuckles whitening from the force of his grip.
Fuck this deadline.
Fuck the client.
She was right there, his wife. Looking absolutely divine— but he couldn't.
He just... couldn't.
“Should I… head back to bed then?”
His eyes take her in again. Hair cascading down her shoulders, loose strands dancing around her face. He let out a sharp breath, torn between his desire for her and his sense of responsibility. His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, but finally, his desire won out.
"No." Voice barely above a whisper.
"Stay."
She felt her chest swell with pride at his words.
Slowly, she paced over to his desk
“Yeah?” she lets a small smile grace her lips.
Rafe's eyes followed her every movement as she made her way over to his desk. He leaned back in his chair, watching her intently, mind racing with desire and anticipation. When she spoke, he could only nod in response, his voice catching in his throat.
"Too tired for words now, hm?" she pressed.
"Please." He murmurs, to her though, he was practically begging— and it only fuelled her further.
She sets herself on the edge of his desk, thigh grazing against the back of his hand.
His breath hitched at the contact of her thigh against his hand, the sensation sending small chill throughout his body. He swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the way her thigh rested against the edge of his desk.
"You're being a tease." He murmured, voice low and gravelly. His hand itched to reach out and touch her, to pull her closer, to throw all the shit on his desk to the floor and take her right then and there.
“You wanted me to stay.” She reminds him, a hint of a smirk ghosting her lips.
"I... I did, but you're making this so hard for me." He laments, eyes roaming over her form, taking in every curve and contour as she perches herself beside him.
“Hard to what?” Egging him on.
He inhales deep, trying to steady himself as he fought the overwhelming desire to give in to his urges. Her proximity was driving him mad, and it was taking all of his self-control to keep himself from pouncing on her.
"Difficult to keep my hands off of you." He admitted, his voice filled with desire and a hint of desperation.
“And… why should you?” She purred.
"Fuck." He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her, to feel her skin under his fingertips, but he held himself back, his mind racing as he tried to think of a response.
"Because... because we shouldn't." He admits weakly, voice betraying his own inner struggle. His heart was pounding in his chest, the desire to give in to his desires growing stronger by the second.*
“'kay then, do your work. I’ll watch.” She instructs, nodding her head at the papers splayed across his desk.
He follows her gaze to the mounds of files and papers. Imagination buzzing at the image of her splayed across this desk, chanting his name like some prayer.
Raferaferaferaferaferaferaferafe—
"Rafe?"
He's pulled out of his thoughts.
"You're a fuckin' vixen." He muttered under his breath, voice tight. Reluctantly, he turned his attention back to the paperwork on his desk, trying to force his mind to focus on work rather than the way she was sitting there, tempting him in every way possible.
She hums, hair brushing against the nape of his neck as she watched him. He shivered at the sensation. Mind hazing over with the tought of her lips running over that same spot. He gripped the edge of his desk, hard, attempting to keep himself from getting distracted.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He questions gruffly, not taking his eyes from the paperwork in front of him.
“Enjoying what? I’m not doing anything?” She quips.
He scoffed. The feigning innocent act driving him mad. He could feel his self-control slipping, the desire to have her in his arms growing stronger with every passing second.
"You know damn well what you're doing." His jaw clenches, his grip on the edge of the desk becoming almost painful.
She hums once more, taking in the sight of his whitened knuckles as he gripped the edge of the desk. She slips her hand under one of his and sets it on her thigh, “There. Now keep working, Rafey."
Rafey. God, he almost groaned aloud as he felt her hand slide beneath his, his fingers resting on the smoothness of her thigh. It was torture, having his wife so close, feeling her touch.
He did his best to stay focused on the paperwork, he really did. But knowing that her eyes were on him and the fact that his hand was so deliciously close to her core—
"You're fuckin' killing me, you know that, right?" He muttered through clenched teeth.
"You wanted to work. So, work."
He let out a ragged breath, torn between wanting to give in to his desire and the need to focus on his work. He could feel the heat radiating off her body, the way her thigh felt under his hand, and it was driving him to the utmost point of insanity.
With a monumental effort, he managed to force his eyes back to the paperwork, his mind struggling to focus on the numbers and words before him. But his thoughts kept slipping back to her, sitting there, teasing him with her mere presence.
Eventually, he fell back into focus. Unknowingly, and while deeply concentrated, his fingers kneaded the plush of her thigh as he set his eyes on the paper next to him.
A small whimper slips past her lips
He turned his gaze up to her, eyes lidded as he took in the sight of her— head tilted back, bottom lip between her teeth as she attempted to muffle the sweet sounds escaping her mouth.
She gripped the edge of the desk, a flush setting over her cheeks as she glanced at him, “K-keep working.” She wouldn't give in just yet.
"You’re a damn tease, you know that?" He spits, voice thick with barely suppressed desire. His hand continued to knead her thigh, his touch almost possessive as he tried to maintain some semblance of control.
She doesn’t reply, too lost in the warmth of his hand at her thigh, “Work.” She lets out alongside a shaky breath as his fingers graze dangerously close to her core.
He clenched his jaw, his hand still kneading her thigh as he forced himself to look at the paperwork in front of him.
Fuck. He should've gone to bed.
not proofread... oops! Also idk how to write actual smut... so yeah...
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WOVEN FATES (1/???)
Here I aaam! Remembering that the posts will be every Saturday.
So, enjoy it!
*I'm a little drunk rigth now, so, I'm sorry if you find mistakes*
MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT
Pairing: AgathaRio X Fem Reader
Summary: A serie of events makes you fall into the good graces of two older women.
Hey! I've a masterlist
Fascination
You wake up to the first rays of sunlight slipping through the gaps in the curtains. Your bedroom is small, just 23 square meters, but it’s the only space in the world you can truly call your own. A study desk pushed against the wall, shelves crammed with books and notebooks filled to the last page, and plants scattered in every corner—ferns, succulents, and a small cactus that stubbornly clings to life even when you forget to water it.
After stretching, you get up and head straight to the window, where your plants greet the day. You talk to them in a soft tone as you mist them, almost as if expecting a reply. “You look beautiful today. I promise I won’t forget you again.”
Lucky, your overly talkative black cat, meows at your feet. He wants nothing but your attention, and you oblige, stroking his head with a tired smile. “Good morning, Lucky. Seems like you’ve got a lot to say, huh?” He meows back, and you laugh.
In the comfortable silence of the morning, your mind drifts, as it often does, to the past. You grew up in the suburbs, in a small house that was always full. Your father did his best to raise you and your five older siblings, but there was a gap that was never filled: your mother. She left when you were just a child, and though no one in the family spoke openly about it, her absence was a constant shadow in your life.
You remember the nights when your older siblings would laugh and argue in the living room, while you, the youngest, hid in a corner with a book or a notebook. Writing was your escape, your way of creating a world where you had control, where mothers didn’t leave and bad things always had a solution.
She left when you were little, leaving behind you, your five older siblings, and a father who never knew how to handle her absence. You remember the nights when the silence of the house was broken by questions no one dared to ask. Why did she leave? Was it us? Was it me?
No matter how hard he tried, your father couldn’t fill the void she left behind. He worked all day, came home exhausted, and did his best to keep the house running, but affection and kind words were never his strong suit.
“You’re strong. You don’t need to cry over this,” he’d say every time tears threatened to spill. Gradually, you learned to swallow your tears and convince yourself that you needed to be strong, even when everything inside you wanted to collapse.
Her absence shaped much of who you are today, though not in a way you like to admit. It’s hard to look in the mirror and not feel... inadequate. You wonder if she left because you weren’t good enough, because you weren’t good enough.
These thoughts are like shadows that appear at the most unexpected times, especially when you try to open up to someone. Intimacy is terrifying. You fear that if people truly know you, they’ll abandon you, just like she did.
In school, this made you shy and reserved. You always felt like a puzzle with a missing piece, unable to fit in. Your siblings tried to shield you from the worst, but they had their own battles to fight.
You were the youngest, the “baby” of the house, and yet you never had the chance to be treated as such. While they laughed and argued, you hid in your room, writing stories that transported you to worlds where mothers didn’t abandon their daughters.
This absence also gave you a fierce determination. You promised yourself that if no one was there to take care of you, then you would take care of yourself. You studied late into the night, devouring books on screenwriting and filmmaking from the public library.
When the college acceptance letter arrived, it felt like the world had paused for a moment. You’d made it. The first in your family to set foot on a university campus. Despite the pride, the insecurity is always there, lurking. The fear of not being good enough, of failing, of being discarded. You work hard because you feel you have something to prove, even if no one asked you to.
The sound of the bell above the door announces another day of work at the small café. You walk in, adjusting your apron with a resigned sigh. The air smells comforting, like fresh coffee, but the weight of the shift ahead is always present. You do everything there: serve tables, clean counters, even organize the stock. Your boss is an unpleasant man, known for his sexist jokes and invasive behavior. But you need the money, so you swallow your anger and keep going.
América, your coworker, is the opposite of you. Rebellious and fearless, she confronts the boss without hesitation, even knowing it could cost her the job. You make an unlikely team, but somehow it works.
As you wipe down the counter, you hear the sharp click of heels echoing through the café. The sound has a weight to it, cutting through the usual hum of the room. A barely perceptible pause spreads through the space, as if the air itself had been suspended for a second. It’s not just curiosity—it’s reverence.
Your gaze lifts almost instinctively, and it’s impossible not to notice the woman who just walked in. Tall, with perfectly styled dark hair and a black blazer that looks tailor-made, she exudes power. But it’s more than that. There’s something in the way her eyes sweep the room—a sharp coldness, as if she could dissect everyone there with just a glance. And people notice her. Some whisper her name, others try not to stare too long.
You swallow hard, trying not to seem intimidated. But when her eyes finally land on you, it’s as if the world around you has disappeared. She doesn’t look away, and the intensity of that moment makes your stomach churn. For a split second, it feels like she knows exactly who you are—all your fears, insecurities, and dreams laid bare before her.
Summoning what little courage you have left, you adjust your apron and force a smile you’ve practiced hundreds of times. “Good morning, what can I get for you today?” Your voice sounds calm, but your heart is racing.
The woman continues to stare at you, silent. Her dark eyes analyze every detail: the slightly worn apron, your hands gripping the notepad too tightly, even the stray strand of hair that escaped your bun. It’s unsettling, as if she’s assessing every tiny aspect of your existence.
“A caramel latte... and a black coffee. No sugar. To go.” Her voice finally breaks the silence. It’s low, gravelly, like distant thunder, and carries a strange familiarity—as if she’s used to being obeyed without question.
You nod, trying to stay professional. But as you prepare the orders, you feel her eyes on you, watching every move. The weight of her gaze is almost unbearable, like a test you didn’t know you were being forced to take. Your hands start to tremble, and an anxious heat spreads through your body. The feeling of being judged grows.
When you turn to hand over the drinks, the tension in your muscles is so tight that your hands falter. Before you realize it, the hot coffee cup slips, spilling the brown liquid all over the woman’s immaculate white blouse. The sound of the cup hitting the counter is muffled by the low, controlled sound of frustration that escapes her lips—not a scream, but a deep, restrained noise.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” you exclaim, your voice trembling. Grabbing napkins in a panic, you lean in to clean up the mess but freeze when you see the stain spreading across the expensive fabric.
The murmur in the café grows louder. Someone lets out an audible sigh, while another mutters something about “the mighty Rio” being treated so carelessly. The name hangs in the air, and only then does it fully hit you.
You knew she seemed powerful, but you hadn’t realized you were standing in front of Rio Vidal—one of the world’s most renowned visual artists. Like her wife, Agatha Harkness, she’s an icon. Together, they’re one of the few openly gay couples to dominate and be celebrated by the industry. Her fame precedes her, and now you’ve just spilled coffee on her.
The woman doesn’t say anything immediately, but her eyes—once analytical—now seem to pierce through you. There’s something terrifyingly calm about the way she looks at you, as if she’s deciding how much of a reaction you’re worth.
Before you can stammer out more apologies, your boss’s voice cuts through the air. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” he shouts, his anger exploding. “How can you be so clumsy? A client of this caliber, and you do this?! I should fire you right now!”
The embarrassment spreads through you like the coffee on her blouse. Your eyes well up as you try to explain, but the words won’t come. All you can do is look at the woman, hoping she’ll say something—anything.
She, however, doesn’t even glance at your boss. Her eyes remain fixed on you, as if he doesn’t exist. Finally, she breaks the silence with a low, sharp voice: “That really isn’t necessary.”
Your boss stammers, surprised. “But, ma’am, she—” He doesn’t finish the sentence. Her gaze silences him, and for the first time, you see a man who thrives on authority shrink back.
You try to catch your breath, your face burning with shame. With a thread of courage, you murmur, “Please, come with me. I—I can fix this.” Your voice falters, but there’s something in your insistence that makes her tilt her head slightly, as if weighing your determination before nodding.
In the restroom, the silence between you is heavy but not empty. You grab the spare blouse you always carry and try to gather your thoughts, but when you turn around, the air seems to leave your lungs.
The woman unbuttons her blazer with precise movements, and when she removes the stained shirt, she reveals a black silk blouse so delicate that the light highlights the curves of her collarbone and the edges of her lace bra.
Your gaze involuntarily drifts to her shoulder, where the skin reddened by the coffee looks almost fragile. The sight is intimate in a way you weren’t prepared for, and your face burns.
“I... I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have...” you begin, but your voice falters. Your mind is torn between the embarrassment of the accident and the hypnotic presence of her, which seems to fill the small space of the restroom.
“Do you always get this nervous?” Her question is unexpected, her voice low and laden with something you can’t decipher. It’s almost a challenge, a test, and her gaze remains fixed on you, as if expecting more than a simple answer.
“I... I don’t know. Maybe?” You look away, shrinking slightly as you hand her the clean blouse. It’s cheap fabric but carries the faint scent of your homemade perfume. When her fingers brush against yours as she takes it, a shiver runs down your skin, quick and unexpected.
She puts on the blouse slowly, unhurried, and her words follow like an echo: “You shouldn’t apologize so much. Especially when you don’t know what for.” The statement is intriguing, almost disconcerting. Your heart races, as if you’ve just stumbled upon something you don’t fully understand.
Before she leaves, you blurt out, the words tumbling out in one breath: “Please... let me wash your blouse. I want... I need to make it up to you.”
She pauses at the door and turns, her eyes locking onto yours once more. There’s something different now, a genuine interest, almost calculated.
Without a word, she pulls a black card from her pocket, elegant and scented with a faint woody aroma. “When it’s ready, come to this address.” Her voice is low but layered with meaning you can’t interpret.
She leaves before you can respond, her posture impeccable and her steps controlled, as if every movement were rehearsed. You’re left alone in the restroom, holding the card that feels heavier than it should.
Rio Vidal.
The name echoes in your mind. A short, strong name, as enigmatic as she is. And for some reason you can’t explain, you feel like you’ve just opened a door to something that will change your life in ways even the worst coffee spills couldn’t predict.
A few minutes later, you gather enough courage to leave the restroom. Your heart is still pounding in your chest, as if trying to remind you of the disaster that just happened.
You find your boss standing near the counter, wearing the same disdainful look that always makes your skin crawl. But something is different today. He doesn’t explode into shouts as you expected.
“Rio Vidal. The Rio Vidal—” He crosses his arms and sighs, as if he can’t believe what he’s about to say, “—said it was fine. And she was very clear that you shouldn’t be punished.”
You blink, confused. The black card in your hand feels heavier now. Why would she do that? Was it pity? Some kind of veiled charity because of your desperation? Or... something more?
The woody scent of the card wafts up to you, a tangible reminder of the woman who, even with coffee spilled on her expensive blouse, had remained impassive and enigmatic.
“Get back to work before I change my mind,” your boss grumbles, but his tone has lost its usual edge. You don’t argue, just tuck the card into your pocket, still feeling every embossed letter like a secret waiting to be unraveled.
[...]
You practically run to the university. Your legs ache, but it doesn’t matter because today is important. When you finally reach the worn-down building that houses the film department, you can barely catch your breath. The room is packed with anxious students, and excited whispers fill the air.
“You’re almost late!” Darcy whispers, pushing a notebook aside to make room for you. Her eyes are wide, nervous. “Agatha Harkness is already here.”
Her name makes your heart race, in a completely different way from the panic you felt before.
Agatha Harkness.
The legend. The queen. The woman who made actors cry on set and screenwriters question if they were good enough to write even a single line of dialogue. She was a monster… but undeniably a genius. Everything that came from her hands was masterful, and you secretly harbored an absurd admiration for her.
Peter, sitting in front of you, whispers to Darcy, “Do you think she’s going to rip someone’s heart out today? She did that the last time she visited a university…”
Darcy, next to him, makes a face. “On the first day?”
“Without a doubt,” Peter replies, shrugging.
Before you can respond, the door swings open. The sound of her heels is the first thing that fills the sudden silence. And then she enters.
Agatha is everything you imagined and more. Tall, dressed in an impeccable purple suit that seems to radiate authority, with a smile that borders on cruel and eyes that scan the room as if evaluating every soul present. Her presence is a punch to the stomach, yet at the same time, something in you feels magnetized by her. It’s impossible to look away.
She wastes no time with warm introductions. Instead, she tosses a stack of papers onto the desk and begins speaking. Her voice is deep, firm, and filled with an intensity that makes the air feel heavier.
“Writing is an act of courage. And from what I’ve heard, many of you have been content with mediocrity.”
The students exchange nervous glances. Darcy practically sinks into her chair beside you. You, on the other hand, feel your heart race even more. There’s something hypnotic about the way she speaks, as if every word is carefully sharpened to cut.
“Now, here’s what you’re going to do.” Agatha steps up to the blackboard and writes something with an elegant pen. “Write a scene. Any scene. But make it something worth reading. Because if I think you’re wasting my time…” She lifts her gaze, and the silence that follows is more threatening than any word. “—your nonexistent careers won’t even start.”
Agatha picks up the first stack of papers and starts reading in silence, her eyes moving rapidly from side to side. The room is absolutely silent, so quiet that the sound of students breathing feels deafening.
After a few seconds, she lets out an almost exasperated sigh and lifts a paper, holding it up as if it were evidence of a terrible crime.
“Who wrote this?”
A girl in the back of the room timidly raises her hand, almost regretting existing.
Agatha narrows her eyes at the paper, then at the girl. “Is this a love story?”
The girl shakes her head, mumbling something about the plot being deeper than it seemed.
“No. It’s not.” Agatha cuts in, her voice as cold as steel. “This is a cheap fanfic disguised as a script. Characters with no substance, dialogues recycled from a teen drama. Where is the humanity? Where is the real conflict? This isn’t writing. This is a murder of art.”
The girl seems to shrink into her seat.
Agatha tosses the paper onto the desk and picks up the next one. This time, she doesn’t read for long before looking up. “Who thinks it’s acceptable to start a scene with ‘Once upon a time’ in an academic assignment? Are you trying to sell an idea or put a child to sleep?”
A boy in the front row tries to justify his choice, but Agatha raises a hand, cutting him off.
“I’m not here to hear excuses. I’m here to see talent. And so far, I’ve seen nothing worth my time.”
The silence in the room is palpable. You see Darcy whisper something to Peter, probably something like “Yeah, definitely heartless,” but you can’t focus. Your own script is in your hands, and the weight of the paper feels like lead.
Finally, your turn comes. With trembling hands, you hand the sheet to Agatha Harkness, feeling as if you’re handing over a piece of yourself. She takes the paper with an almost deliberate calm, and for a moment, you’re sure she’s going to toss it onto the “failures” pile without even looking.
But then, something in the title seems to catch her attention. Her eyes, previously indifferent, narrow slightly, and she begins to read.
Seconds turn into eternities as you watch her. The room around you fades away; all you can hear is the sound of your own heart pounding against your ribs. Your mind drifts back, inevitably, to the moment you wrote those words—the weight of the story, the piece of your soul you decided to share.
Agatha turns the page. Once, then again. Her silence is like a knife. You don’t know if this is good or bad.
When she finally finishes, she places the paper on the desk. Unlike the others, she doesn’t discard it immediately, but she also doesn’t show approval. Her eyes lock onto you, assessing, and there’s something new in her expression: a trace of curiosity.
“Interesting.” Her tone is neutral, but there’s something hidden in it—a hint of intrigue, perhaps? She leans forward slightly, crossing her arms. “Are you trying to tell a personal story?”
Your face burns instantly, and you feel the weight of all the eyes around you. Still, you find the strength to nod in confirmation, even as shame nearly swallows you whole.
“Hmm.” Agatha raises an eyebrow, pressing her lips into a thoughtful line. “You have no technique. No structure. The writing is messy, almost amateurish.”
Her words cut deep, and you bite your lip hard to keep the bile from rising in your throat.
“But…” She pauses, looking at the paper with unsettling intensity. “You have—” then, she focuses on you, and seeing those ocean-blue eyes so close makes your body tremble. “—something.”
Her choice of words is as vague as it is provocative, and you feel the weight of that “something” hanging in the air between you. She narrows her eyes, as if trying to figure out exactly what it was in the text that caught her—or in you.
“Stay after the bell rings.”
Her voice is final, like a sentence, but there’s no hostility. She dismisses you with a slight wave of her hand, and you feel a mixture of relief and anxiety as you return to your seat.
While the others hand in their scripts, you remain restless, trying to decipher Agatha’s expression and the reason behind her words. What in your text could have caught her attention? The room around you is filled with muffled murmurs, but in your mind, it’s as if you’re trapped in a storm.
As soon as the bell rings, only three people remain in the room besides you. The silence is dense, heavy with expectation, as Agatha moves with the same deliberate calm as before.
Of course, she already knows exactly what she’s doing. This special, hand-picked mentorship was clearly a strategy to appear more "kind" to the public, even though, so far, there had been nothing friendly about her approach.
You watch as she begins the individual feedbacks, calling Darcy first. The girl in front of you seems to be caught between hope and terror but agrees to step forward. As Agatha starts speaking to her, you try to distract yourself, but you can’t stop your eyes from wandering back to the director.
She is... magnetic. Even as she crushes Darcy’s creative dreams with precise, cutting words, there’s something about her that simply demands attention. And then it happens.
For a moment—or perhaps for all eternity—her blue eyes meet yours.
Your throat goes dry instantly. It’s impossible to interpret what’s in that gaze, but it hits you hard. Curiosity? Judgment? Or something else? You try to look away, but it’s as if you’re trapped. She stares at you for only a few seconds before returning to her conversation with Darcy, as if nothing had happened. But you know it did.
Your heart pounds so loudly it feels like it echoes in the empty room. Nervousness is consuming you, but there’s something else, a sensation you weren’t expecting. A tightness in your stomach.
Desire? Nervousness? Anxiety?
You close your eyes for a moment, trying to take a deep breath and organize your thoughts, but it only makes things worse. It feels like she has pulled a piece of the air around you away with just that look.
Time moves slowly. Agatha finishes Darcy’s feedback, moving on to the next student. And then, when your turn finally comes, you don’t know if you’re ready—or if you ever would be.
She calls your name firmly, and you stand up. Your legs feel weak as you walk toward her, carrying the weight of her expectation and your own desire to impress her.
“So,” she begins, crossing her arms, her sharp gaze settling on you. “Let’s talk about what you wrote.”
As soon as you sit before her, Agatha picks up your sheet of paper, holding it carefully, as if she were carrying something precious—or something dangerous. She doesn’t say anything right away, just fixes her eyes on the text for a few seconds before beginning to read again, this time out loud:
"One day, I had a dream about my mother. She was married to the man she truly loved, and without children. There, I had never seen her so happy."
Her voice is deep, but it carries a softness you didn’t expect. It’s as if she’s savoring each word, analyzing every nuance.
When she finishes, Agatha places the paper on the table with a controlled gesture and looks directly at you. The silence that follows seems to last an eternity.
You swallow hard, feeling the weight of that gaze, as if she could see every secret you tried to hide.
“Is your mother the main character here?” The question is direct, blunt—like everything about her.
You feel your face heat up, looking away. “I... maybe?” you murmur, the words hesitant.
“No need to lie,” she interrupts, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. “The text screams it. Every line, every word choice… it’s as if you were exorcizing a ghost. Tell me, is that what you tried to do? Exorcize the guilt of loving and hating at the same time?”
The brutality of the question leaves you speechless. You shift in your chair, uncomfortable, but she doesn’t seem inclined to ease the tension.
“Did she leave you?” Agatha presses, her eyes locked onto yours, as if she could pull the truth out of you by force.
You hesitate but finally let out a shaky sigh. “Yes.”
For a moment, her face seems to change. Something in her gaze softens, but only for a fraction of a second before she composes herself again.
“And yet, you chose not to hate her.” She tilts her head, as if studying a particularly intriguing piece of art. “That is… rare.”
“I think that… she did what she thought was best for her,” you reply, your voice almost a whisper. “I don’t blame her for seeking happiness, even if it hurt me.”
Agatha remains silent for a few moments, as if processing something. There was something in the text—or maybe in the way you spoke—that seemed to touch an old wound in her. A shadow passes over her face, but she quickly pushes it away, replacing it with a neutral expression.
“You have talent,” she declares, breaking the silence. “Still raw, but it’s genuine. And, more importantly, you have courage. The kind of courage I’m looking for.”
You blink, confused. “Looking for?”
Agatha leans forward, her eyes gleaming with dangerous intensity. “I’m assembling a team for my next project. I need minds that think like yours—that see beyond the surface and aren’t afraid to explore the shadows. Would you be interested?”
Your heart races. Working with Agatha Harkness? The woman you admired, even feared? It was more than you could have imagined, but the answer was obvious.
“Yes,” you respond quickly, barely able to contain the excitement in your voice.
Agatha smiles, and the gesture is as enigmatic as the rest of her. “Good. Get ready, little gem. I’m going to shape you piece by piece," The way she spoke was hypnotic, pulling you in. “and it will be… painful.”
As soon as you answer affirmatively, Agatha pulls something from the pocket of her purple blazer: a business card. It’s blue, with purple lettering in an elegant cursive font. The floral scent of the paper fills the air as she slides the card across the table toward you.
“Come to this address tomorrow,” she says, her voice firm but low, as if each word were chosen with care. “Seven at night. And don’t be late.”
You take the card with trembling fingers, its weight feeling heavier than it should. The moment you touch it, a wave of déjà vu washes over you. The texture, the scent, even the sophistication of the design remind you of the card Rio gave you earlier.
Two women so different, and yet… so similar. Both had a presence that seemed to capture the room, leaving you breathless. Both seemed to see through you, as if they could decipher your deepest thoughts with a single look.
You feel your heart speed up, confusion mixing with excitement. Why had these women, so powerful and enigmatic, captivated you so much? Rio had left something in you—a sense of unresolved mystery. Now, Agatha was doing the same, but in an even more intense way.
“Something wrong?” Agatha’s voice cuts through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present.
“N-no,” you reply quickly, slipping the card into your backpack. “I’ll be there.”
She only tilts her head, her eyes lingering on you for a moment before turning and leaving the room. Her silhouette disappears through the door, but the weight of her presence still lingers—heavy, inescapable.
As you gather your things and prepare to leave, a single question echoes in your mind: What the hell were you getting yourself into?
And more importantly, why couldn’t you stop feeling excited about it?
~*~
Y/n... How lucky you are, huh?
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#lgbtq#lgbtqia#wlw post#mommy k!nk#mommy k1nk#mommys little girl#domme mommy#agatha x fem!reader#agatha x reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness#agatha all along#agathario#agatha coven of chaos#rio vidal#rio vidal x reader#agatha x rio#rio x reader#congratulations my love#Spotify
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★𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙣𝙚★
𝙀𝙠𝙠𝙤 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧
✩𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 - you help Ekko relax a little
✩𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 - Smut with plot, fingering, oral(reader receiving)
✩𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - heyyyy😅 ik it's been a while, I kinda disappeared off the face of the earth, MY BADDDDD😁 I figured since I've been gone for a good second, I should come back with a treat, so here you are lovebugs❤️ I hope you guys like it🩷🌺
Sweat trickled down his forehead as he worked. He was hunched over his desk, hands aching and mind clouded as he continued his repairs to his hoverboard. It was late –3 am to be exact– and Ekko’s been sleepless since the battle on the bridge with Jinx. You were worried about him. You knew how stressful this was for him; between failing to save his former best friend and making sure everything stays afloat with the firelights, he was basically drowning in his work and stress. Ekko was a relatively calm person, but whenever you tried to talk to him about everything, he would just shut down and push you away, so you learned to give him space, but tonight you couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m surprised you haven’t frozen to stone like that,” you spoke softly, not wanting to startle him. His workshop door was cracked open and all the lights except for the one that sat right above his desk were dimmed. “...you should be asleep,” he whispered, not looking up from his work. His voice was weary and tired, you could hear the stress in his voice, it made your heart crack. “So should you, love,” your voice stayed soft, calming. The last thing you wanted was to be another harsh thing in his life right now. “The bed misses you,” you joked softly as you came up behind him, your soft hands landing on his shoulders. They were tense, his whole body was, and the tenseness didn’t falter when you touched him like how it usually did. “I’ll be there soon,” he uttered. “How soon? By the end of the month? Because I haven’t seen you in bed in 3 weeks,” you were sincere with a half joking tone as your hands gently ran down his body as you hugged him from behind, “I miss you baby…just…come on for tonight, get some rest. It’ll be here in the morning- I’ll even come in and help you with it,” you pleaded softly, your lips against his neck as you eyed his work from his shoulder. You didn’t want him to open up before he was ready, you didn’t want to push his limits, and you didn’t want to bitch to him about how closed off he’s been, you just wanted him to get some rest.
He sighed at your words, his hands pausing their movements for just a small moment, “Just-...let me finish this up, okay?” he uttered, his tone slightly softer than before. You huffed as you felt him lean into your arm, planting a small kiss on your upper arm as he started working again. You knew him, he wasn’t going to come to bed any time soon, he would just magically find something else that needed his attention and forget all about getting rest. “You’re helpless, you know that?” you huffed out against the shell of his ear, “your whole workshop is gonna be renovated before you come to bed.” He could hear the slight irritation in your words as you removed your touch from him, it made him tense up more. He knew you were being patient with him, and knowing that he was making it harder for you somehow made him feel worse than the stress did.
“Wait,” he uttered out before you got too close to the door. You immediately turn around, as if it was a reflex, “yes Ekko?” “...c’here,” he uttered, his hands abandoning his work as he looked over his shoulder. You didn’t fight the urge to walk back over to him. Soon, you were standing in between his legs and his hands were on your hips. “I’m sorry baby,” he sighed, his hands giving a loving squeeze to your body. His stress seemed to melt away the more you were around him, and you loved that, but constantly trying to get him to melt was frustrating, so you wanted to milk this as much as you could.
“Prove it,” you huffed, feigning irritation as you crossed your arms. For the first time in a while, he cracked a smile, chuckling as he immediately picked up on your game. “You want me to prove that I’m sorry?” he chuckled, his hands running up your waist, pushing up your (his) shirt as he did so. “Yea,” you huffed, your act almost breaking as he tugged you down on his lap, making you straddle him. “And tell me princess, how do you want me to do that?” he smirked as your hands rested on his shoulders as his hand gently grabbed your chin, running his thumb across your bottom lip. “Surprise me,” you smiled, finally breaking your act. It felt like he was a magnet, slowly pulling you closer, the space in between you closing at a steady pace. “Surprise you, huh? I got you~” he uttered before pressing his lips into yours.
This was the quickest you’ve ever seen Ekko forget about a project. Your lips danced with his as his hands roamed your body, running from your waist to your hip down to your thighs before finally resting on your ass, his hands giving it a soft squeeze. Your hands weren't much different; running from his shoulders down his chest to his abs and then back up to his blonde locs. It didn't take long for all restraint to disappear once his tongue slipped into your mouth, a soft whine escaping your throat as he explored your mouth. You felt him smile into the kiss, making your heart melt. If this was all it took to get him to loosen up, you would’ve been tried this.
You felt him remove one of his hands off your body, reaching behind you to tug his hoverboard off the table and onto the floor, giving him space to grab your hips and lift you up onto the table. You stayed connected in a messy kiss as he gripped your thighs and toyed with the waistband of your night shorts. You finally broke away, strings of saliva connecting you both as you panted softly, trying to catch your breath as you smiled down at him as he tugged at your waistband, a smile on his face as while. “There we go~” you cooed, your soft hands cupping his cheeks, “Finally got you to smile f’me,” you giggled, his smile only growing bigger. “Who wouldn’t for you, baby?” he chuckled as he tugged down your waistband, silently signalling to you to lift your hips, which you happily obliged.
He pressed soft, wet kisses all along your jaw and neck as he tossed your shorts somewhere behind him, pushing your thick thighs apart, revealing the damp spot on your orange, lacy panties, bringing a smirk on his face. “All that for me?” he smirked slyly, gripping you by your thighs and tugging you closer to the edge of the table. “No one else but you,” you giggled. “You must have really missed me,” he chuckled before pressing a kiss into your lips, swallowing the soft moan you let out when the pad of his thumb pushed into your clit through the flimsy fabric. The pretty sounds continued to spill out as he drew tight circles into the little bud.
At some point, he slowly stood up, his lips still locked with yours and his fingers still moving. “Lay back f’me baby,” he muttered against your lips lowly, but you weren't giving much of a choice when he placed a hand on your stomach and gently pushed you back. A shiver went down your spine as he placed soft, wet kisses down your body, making his way between your thighs, sucking hickeys over top of the stretch marks on your inner thighs. You leaned up on your elbows, looking down your body and watching him work on your body, allowing your eyes to lock with his. God damn it, he was fucking gorgeous like this; in between your legs, looking up with hooded but loving eyes, blonde locs falling in his face just a little. A gasped escaped your lips as he kissed your clothed cunt before he tugged the messy fabric to the side. Ekko bit back a groan as he watched strings of your arousal fall from the fabric as your pussy shimmered under the dim lighting. His dick leaked in his pants a little at the sight. “You’re so fucking pretty~” he cooed softly, making your heart melt and your cheeks flush, but before you could even respond, his mouth was on your cunt, coaxing struggled whines and moans from you as the sound of him slurping and licking your core filled the room. Your fingers tangled in his locs, tugging his head deeper between your legs as your head lulled back, your hips grinding against his face as he gripped your thigh with one hand, tugging you impossibly closer to him as he slipped one of his long, thick fingers into your tight hole.
He ate you like a starved man, but honestly the way he’s been locked up in his workshop, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was one. He now had two fingers pumping in and out of you, curling perfectly against that one gummy spot inside of you as he slurped and sucked at your clit, the juices from your previous orgasm pooling in the palm of his hand and on his desk under you.
He reluctantly detached from your cunt after your third orgasm leaving you a panting and shaking mess in front of him as he smirked down at you. “How’s that for proof?” he smirked, earning a breathless giggle from you as he licked your juices off his now dripping hand. “Ya know, I came in here to try and help you un-stress~” you giggled. “Hm, then you did a amazing fucking job baby,” he chuckled lowly, leaning down to lock lips with you, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips.
“Lets go to bed~” he uttered, scooping you off his table, leaving a mess for him to clean up later.
#ekko arcane#arcane#ekko#ekko x reader#black!fem!reader#black!reader#lilixoxo writes#arcane smut#ekko smut#lilixoxo smut#ekko x fem!reader#Ekko smut
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to not know who i am, but still know that i'm good long as you're here with me - jack hughes
pairing: jack hughes x original female character
warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, nothing much else i can think of!
inspired by + title: i like me better by lauv
word count: 6.4k
author's note: hello everyone!! i feel like i've been in such a rut lately but i'm glad i managed to write this one out! this is for the lovely @wyattjohnston for her winter fic exchange 2k25. demi, thank you as always for your hard work in putting this together and i hope you enjoy. sorry that it's a few days late! to everyone, please let me know what you think!!
*****
When Maia Flaherty left her usual lunchtime coffee run with a number from one very Jack Hughes, she didn’t really quite know what to think.
“No pressure,” he had said with an easy smile. “I just think you’re pretty and the glare you gave that couple that was making out at the table next to you sold it for me.”
As she stares out on her train ride home, she’s deep in thought. This might be just a one date thing and then they find out they have nothing in common and they move on. But she knows herself. She doesn’t fall fast, but when she falls, she falls hard. What if she ends up falling harder than him, setting herself up for heartbreak. But she knows that’s also unfair to him, especially because she doesn’t know him. She appreciates his boldness in asking her out, but she doesn’t understand how he can be so confident and sure that he wants to go on a date with her. To be fair, maybe he’s only looking for something casual, to which she has even less of an idea of how to handle it, because she has never done casual and doesn’t think she could do it.
As she’s walking the streets back to her place in West Village, she thinks about how to approach this. Knowing her, she’s too curious to not text him and she probably will think on it over the weekend. But, should she protect herself and go into this as just meeting a friend or go into this romantically? She admits that he is cute and she was the slightest bit charmed by him, but she knows that she knows nothing else about him. She takes the time to look up some of his highlights of his career (he had dropped his Instagram handle to her “just so you know I’m a real person”) and she knows that he’s good. Almost annoyingly good. As a University of Minnesota alum, she’s familiar enough with hockey as a whole. She stalks his Instagram and doesn’t find anything much besides posts with family, friends and teammates. Pretty average. But she’s still weary.
Monday morning rolls around, and on her train to work, she takes a deep breath, clicking on his contact and copy and pasting what she had written last night.
hi!!! it’s maia from the cafe. if the offer still stands, i’d love to go out on that date
Not even a minute later, and she gets a response.
what a wonderful text to get on a Monday morning
the offer absolutely still stands. what’s your schedule looking like this week?
not around during regular people work hours so monday-friday 9-5 won’t work
my weekend is pretty empty atm but idk if that works for you? i’m assuming you have games this week
no games this weekend, for once. all weeknight games.
lucky timing
lucky indeed. you around Saturday for lunch?
works for me!
you’re in jersey right? i can come out to you if that’s easier
are you kidding me?
i’m not gonna make you come out to me, especially because I’m the one who asked you out
where are you in the city? I’ll come to you
She smiles to herself.
I’m in west village, but i can meet you anywhere
i’ll do some research after practice and get back to you?
sure
i also can suggest some places as well!!
appreciate it. i got it though. i’m the one who asked so I feel like it’d be unfair to ask you to plan
Huh, she thinks, being surprised again. She doesn’t have much to compare to, but she can’t remember a single date she’s been on where she hasn’t been the one planning.
okay lmk if you need my help! no rush we have a whole week
(Jack has a break in a morning practice and he’s just staring at his phone with the biggest smile on his face. His teammates are all making fun of him, but he pays them no mind. It’s not new for them to poke fun at him for texting girls, but he knows, he just knows that this one is different.
He also kinda likes the idea of “we.”)
kinda wish we didn’t
oh?
saturday is so far away
you’ll survive
She gets into the office just then and her phone is forgotten as she’s thrown into spreadsheets and meetings. It isn’t until 4 p.m. where she has the mental energy and time to look at his responses. The last text he had sent was two hours ago.
i found a place. well, a couple
i asked some of my friends who know the city better than I do
*screenshot of list in Notes app*
i tried to find places in different parts of Manhattan, mostly in West Village. i don’t know where exactly in that area you are and how easy or hard it is for you to get wherever
sorry, just realized I’m spamming you and you’re probably working
I’m so sorry i left you hanging work was literally insane until now
honestly all of these places sound wonderful
i’ve been to a couple of them before so tell your friends they have good taste
any one in particular you like?
you choose
since you’re planning it after all
lol
i really don’t want you having to travel that far
i literally live in nyc so if I want to see any of my friends who don’t live by me I have to travel far
and you’re literally coming from jersey
i’ll be fine with any choice you make
seriously
He chooses one of her favorite Greek food joints about 10 blocks from where she is and she tries to put it away in her mind. She still has this whole week to go. She’s known for years that she gets overwhelmed and stressed if she thinks ahead occasionally, and this is definitely one of those times.
(There’s a game on Wednesday night, and her best friend and roommate Carrie urges her to put it on TV in the background while they’re eating dinner. Carrie knows next to nothing about hockey, so Maia tries to explain it to her. But most of the time, she’s quiet and her eyes are zeroed in on 86. Or trying to, because everyone skates so fucking fast. He scores a goal and assists another, and she knows that that’s literally his job, but she can’t help but feel something watching him skate around so confidently.
She’s always respected the skill it takes to play hockey. Skating is hard. But the hockey attitude wasn’t always something that she loved. She understands that she’s projecting a lot of unwarranted judgement. But she doesn't think it’s all based on lies.
As the minutes wind down in the game, she zones out. She really doesn’t understand how or why this literal superstar of the sport just approached her and after knowing literally nothing about her, asked her out. This shit doesn’t happen to her. She also knows the usual crowd that hockey players go for. She’s not blonde. She’s not a model. She’s not anything like that.
What does he want from her?)
*****
She wakes up Saturday morning a bit groggy, thanks to the glasses of wine her and Carrie had the night before. She goes through her morning routine, but decides to forgo the coffee and make a smoothie instead. She usually likes to sip on her coffee for hours rather than down it all in one go. And she knows if she downs it, she’ll start shaking.
She doesn’t need to be shaking today.
Carrie stumbles out when Maia just leaves the bathroom and offers to make a smoothie for her. With a yawn, Carrie nods as she slides past her to go into the bathroom.
It’s 9:48 a.m. They’re meeting right at noon, so she has a bit of time. Her phone buzzes right after she finishes cleaning the blender.
good morning! see you soon
She just sends back a couple of emojis, before scrolling around on her social media accounts, sipping on her smoothie. It’s just the waiting now that’s making her more nervous.
She already knows what she’s gonna wear. An olive green sweater she bought recently that she’s been loving, black leggings, brown booties and earrings that she got years ago when she studied abroad. She’s leaving her hair down and putting some light makeup on. Nothing crazy. This is literally lunch. And she’s not gonna overthink for a boy.
Carrie proves to be a good distraction, simultaneously hyping her up, assuring her and talking about other things to keep her head level. She walks to the subway station and goes on the train, airpods in. This is all routine. The way there is no stranger to her, often meeting up with her brother for dinner around the area.
She checks the time. On time.
She approaches the restaurant’s front at 11:57 and decides to walk in and grab a table. She stops in her tracks when she sees that he’s already there, in the corner by the window that she usually loves to sit at. He’s wearing a gray sweater and blue jeans, a baseball cap flipped backwards on his head. She waves off the hostess and heads in his direction.
He looks up from his phone and immediately locks it, standing up. She smiles in greeting and he comes around to grab her bag as she shrugs off her jacket. She thanks him softly, to which he just smiles back at. As she’s sitting down, he pours out some water.
“You didn’t get lost getting here?” She jokes.
He rolls his eyes. “I’m not that directionally challenged. Just not used to it.”
“That’s what you get for living in Jersey.”
“Oh. So that’s how we’re gonna play this?”
And that just sets the tone for the rest of the date. It’s…surprisingly easy. The follow up question immediately is if she’s from the city, to which she snorts and says “absolutely not,” but she’s been living here for over two years now. She grew up in Buffalo, she says, and went to college at University of Minnesota, to which he, of course, widens his eyes. “You went to Minnesota, and you’re not a hockey fan?” She rolls her eyes. “When did I say I’m not a hockey fan?” She talks about how yes, she went to a couple of games when she was there and they were always fun, but she wasn’t necessarily an avid fan.
He talks about growing up in Toronto even though he was born in Orlando and then going to Michigan and how hockey was literally just his life from a young age, especially with parents who were also involved, as well as an older and a younger brother growing up to play too. Sure, she knows all of this (she couldn’t help herself and did enough research), but it is nice and different to hear from him directly. She does slip for a second and makes fun of his private school upbringing (“It tracks.”) but the shocked delight on his face lets her know that he doesn’t take offense.
As they order the food and it comes and they start eating, she lets herself be charmed. She didn’t expect him to be so…normal. Normal in the way that she often forgot that he was one of the best hockey players in the country. Normal in the way that parts of him remind her of her closest guy friends. But then he would mention something about his career or just a random detail in his life that would make her remember.
She notices that he also is very aware of how much he talks. It’s natural for her to ask more questions, because that’s just how she’s wired, but he turns questions back to her that excite her or make her laugh, and then she goes on a minor tangent. It’s very back and forth. Balanced.
She’s having a really good time.
She expected him to be more…straight-forward in terms of flirting, due to how he asked her out, but he’s not. He seems a bit nervous at times even, chuckling adorably and avoiding eye contact, but then he says something that’s so just so incredibly confident that makes her flustered or let out a scoff of disbelief.
Before they know it, they’re done eating. She protests when he immediately grabs the check and pulls out his card, to which he just playfully glares at her for. She does relent and thanks him, and she’ll never forget the boyish smile he gave her.
They’re both on the same page, not wanting their time together to end quite yet, lingering to leave. And then she suggests grabbing a coffee from a place around the corner and walking to a nearby park. She teases him, asking if he’ll get cold to which he scoffs at (“I’m basically a Canadian and I live at the rink. I’ll be fine. Will you?” She laughs. “I was born and raised in Buffalo. Don’t worry about me.”)
They grab coffee (to which she puts her foot down and pays and he lets her), him a black coffee and her an iced chai, and she leads them leisurely to a nearby park. It’s a little chilly, but it’s not windy which is good, and they find an empty bench and sit down, their conversation and battering just coming so incredibly easy. Even to the point where sometimes, she’s not necessarily calling him out, but she’s challenging some of his thoughts. She’s not shattering his confidence at all, but definitely subtly giving him a reality check and just being honest.
And not even purposefully. It’s just how she is.
(He really appreciates it, actually. It’s been awhile since someone who he’s just met isn’t afraid to challenge him off the rink. He loves the attention and always has, and she’s giving that to him, but there’s also something innate in her that’s so grounded and in turns, grounds him.)
But it’s also different. It’s different when he randomly throws out a compliment here and there, saying how he loves her laugh and how cute she is. The way he’s paying attention to everything she’s saying. The way he just can’t help but chuckle almost incredulously because she’s so much more than he imagined, even though he’s the one who asked her out.
Before they know it, it’s almost 4 and they’ve been chatting the whole time. Yet somehow, it still feels like they could keep going. She walks him to the nearest subway station since it’s on her way home. She gives him a farewell hug and he follows his gut and kisses her on the cheek, promising to text her. She smiles one more time before turning to walk back to her apartment.
When she gets back to her place, Carrie’s there and ready for a recap. She says everything she can remember them talking about, which is a lot, while Carrie just listens carefully. Throughout it, she’s trying to downplay it, probably for self-preservation purposes, looking back. Carrie lets her dwell on it occasionally, but also interrupts when needed to try to assure her friend that she’s a catch and there’s a reason he asked her out in the first place and she can’t play herself down like that.
What she knows for a fact at this point is that she likes spending time with him, and she does have romantic feelings for him. Everything else? She has no idea. She has no idea if they’d pair together well. She has no idea what he wants from this. She has no idea how he actually feels about her, because he could’ve just thrown out those compliments because he’s naturally flirty. It wouldn’t surprise her. And god, she can’t help but let her mind wander into his career and being in the spotlight and how that just affects…everything.
She just doesn’t know.
(Meanwhile, he returns to an empty place, Luke out with some friends for the night. He can’t stop smiling, replaying the whole day in his head. She’s just so much more than he expected, able to keep up with his quips, often beating them. She laughs and smiles so freely. She’s so damn smart. She’s beautiful.
He’s had his fair share of hookups and casual things, but this? This is different. It’s scary, he thinks, that he’s this invested after one date. It’s unfamiliar territory, and there’s so much more he wants to know about her.
He needs to know everything he can about her. Before she figures out that she’s way too good for him.)
*****
Four weeks pass, and they haven’t seen each other. There have been some sporadic texts here and there, but with the chaos of both their jobs and then Thanksgiving, it hasn’t accounted to more than that.
(She’s trying to get over it and let it pass. He wants anything but that)
On an early December evening, Maia’s just finished cleaning up the dishes when she gets a call. When she sees his name, she blinks. She clicks accept.
“Hello?”
“Hi. It’s Jack.”
She can’t help but chuckle a bit. “Yeah, I know. What’s up?”
“How are you? How was your Thanksgiving?”
“I’m doing okay. Thanksgiving was good! I got to go back home for a few days. How about you? Did you even have a break?”
“Not really. I had some family come to watch some games though, so that was nice.”
“I’m sure it was,” she hums.
“Listen-I…I know it’s been awhile.”
“Almost a month.”
“Yeah,” he breathes out guiltily. “I-I’m really sorry about that. I’ve…the season’s just been so crazy and, yeah. I’ve been meaning to reach out sooner, but just, like. Yeah. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she replies automatically. “I get it. Your schedule is crazy. I feel like you have a game every other day.”
“You’ve been keeping up?” He teases lightly.
She rolls her eyes. “A bit more than I used to, sure. But that really doesn’t mean anything.”
He laughs a bit, before settling down into a serious tone. “If you have time, or if you even want to, because I totally understand why you wouldn’t, I’d love to go out again. I just, I had a really good time with you last time. Again, I know I…if you say no, I get it.”
It’s silent for a couple of seconds, but she knows her answer. “I’d love to.”
“Really?”
“Really,” she smiles to herself at his surprised tone. “You surprised?”
“A bit. I mean, I kinda fell off the face of the planet. I would understand if you didn’t want to see me again.”
“Jack.”
“Yeah?”
“When are you free?”
He sighs. “This week? Not much, unfortunately. I’m only around for dinner tomorrow and Friday, and then I’m gone for a few days on a stretch of away games.”
“Wanna do tomorrow?”
“You around?”
She snorts. “I’m not as busy as you are, Mr. NHL. I’m free most weeknights.”
He lets out a low laugh. “Okay, yeah. Tomorrow night’s perfect. I’ll actually be in the city in the afternoon to meet up with a friend so I’ll just stay and meet you around there.”
“Oh good. I don’t have to pretend I want to go to Jersey.”
“This again?”
She laughs. “I can choose this time. Do you know where you’re meeting your friend?
“Yeah. I have his address. Hang on, I’ll send it to you.” Seconds later, her phone buzzes and she briefly looks at the location on Google Maps.
“Oh. Battery Park. That’s close to where I am. You must really like this friend if you’re willing to travel that far. It’s a pretty long way from Newark.”
“Right? That’s what I told him. So, tomorrow night, yeah?”
“Yeah. I can figure out a place and I’ll let you know tomorrow morning the latest if that works? What kind of food do you like?”
“Anything you like.”
“Jack.”
“I mean it.”
“Okay, okay. How does ramen sound?”
“Perfect. I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I’ll text you,”
“See you tomorrow.”
“Can’t wait.”
Tomorrow comes, this time at a lowkey but busy ramen place where they’re sat side by side and their knees are touching. Jack’s hair is out this time, and the waves are falling across his forehead and she just loves the way it looks. He notices the two rings she’s wearing as one quickly catches a light in the restaurant. They continue on from the last time they talked but this time, swimming the surface of deeper conversations.
She talks about her constant doubts about her job and how she sometimes just wants to pick up and movs somewhere else and start new. He talks about how he knows he’s good at hockey and knows this is the only path for him, but how he recognizes that outsiders look and sometimes see a sell-out or someone who doesn’t work hard. But he’s learned to just put his head down and play and to do it well. That’s something she can also relate to.
She talks about how her relationship with her older brother is one that she’s found to be very grateful for, especially because they’re so far apart in age. A lot of who she is is based on his personality. He talks about being the middle child and being close in age to his brothers, and how competition was always just built into every activity they did. He’s realized, especially as he’s gotten older, how much he appreciates his brothers and having all three of them being in the same league, with Luke on the same team, and going through similar experiences but also completely different trajectories.
(Somewhere, they both take a few sake shots and Maia’s not quite drunk, but buzzing, her laughter more free and her face redder).
Even semi-intoxicated, she decides not to ask the questions she really wants to yet that focus around them and what they are, unclear of where they stand. They’re sitting so close to each other and she relishes in it, wanting more. When she runs a hand through her hair to push it back, she notices his eyes flickering at that action, which means…nothing. She has to break away eye contact sometimes because he’s just staring at her so intensely.
No wonder he has girls wanting him left and right, she thinks. She’s kind of no better.
Towards the end of the night (he paid again and she only let him after he said he would let her pay next time. Next time), they plan out vaguely when they’ll see each other next. He’s away for the next week or so, and she just shrugs. She gets it. It would be naive of her to think she can change it. “I’ll let you know the second I land,” he says, and she just nods. She then jokes that maybe their next date could be skating, and he rolls his eyes, though he takes it into consideration. When he asks if she’s serious, she snorts, “I mean, sure. But you’re not gonna have to teach me how, if that’s what you’re going for.” He laughs. Loudly.
When they part ways, he hugs her tightly and for a long time. She breathes him in subtly, her eyes fluttering shut when she feels him press a lingering kiss on her forehead.
Maybe that’s when she should’ve asked. Because that act was way too intimate to feel friendly. But she didn’t, and she watched him walk away, chuckling as he turned around to shoot her a parting wink.
She went to sleep that night, somehow, with so many thoughts circling around her mind)
*****
Maia has an idea of when he’s landing, so she’s not surprised when she gets a call on a Thursday night.
He seems a bit out of breath, and she asks him if everything’s okay. Everything’s fine, he says. He just landed back in Newark and is heading home. He cuts to the chase, and asks if she’s around the next night. She blinks, because she knows he has a game. He clarifies. Is she around after the game? (“Or for the game,” he adds quickly. “If you want to come, I can get you tickets.”) While she’s flattered, she knows that’s crossing a line at this point and she politely turns down his offer. But yeah, she says. I’m around after. What’s up? He asks if he can take her out on a date. And she knows her answer (it’s obviously yes) but she says only if she’s allowed to go to him in Jersey. He protests immediately, but she shuts him up (“Both of our dates have been way closer to where I am. It’s only fair, Maia.”)
It’s gonna be a late night date, since the game (assuming no overtime) won’t end until at least 10:00. He’s not sure what he has in store, but she’s okay with not knowing. The only thing he assures her of is that he’ll drive her back into the city afterwards. Traffic should be light, so she doesn’t fight him.
(That should’ve been another hint that this was something worth pursuing. She has a hard time letting go of control of plans, especially with people she hasn’t known for awhile.
She trusts him already)
When he hangs up, she thinks for a second. He had told her during their last date that he would let her know the second he landed.
And he did.
Huh.
*****
The next night, she’s nervous.
Dinner’s already been eaten. She caught the first period of his game, but had to leave to catch her trains to meet him. With encouraging words from Carrie paired with some hype up music, she’s on her way.
When she steps out of the station on this abnormally warm December night, she immediately sees him leaning against his car. His hair is damp from the shower he probably just took, and he’s sporting a peacoat over a sweater and blue jeans.
He perks up when he sees her and she practically skips over to him. She smiles and pulls him into a hug, and she feels him press a light kiss in her hair.
“Hey.” She says softly.
“Hi,” he mutters in her hair, pulling away to lean down and place a kiss on her cheek. “It’s good to see you.” He opens the door for her as she slides in, and she’s thankful that she followed her instincts and dressed comfortably in her beloved Minnesota sweatshirt, stifling a yawn as she thanked him. She puts on her seatbelt and leans back, watching him climb in.
He turns to her, “Wanna aux?”
“Are you sure?” She asks, already fiddling around to connect her Apple carplay.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” He chuckles, looking behind him to pull onto the road.
She shrugs. “What kind of music do you want?”
“Whatever you want.”
She snorts. “You don’t mean that.” She scrolls through her playlists and debates on which one to do. “I saw that you guys lost. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he replies automatically and she catches his eye and gives him a look of doubt. He corrects himself. “Okay, it’s frustrating, but none of that right now. I wanna hear about you. How’s your week been? Did that thing with your boss get resolved?”
She blinks. Right. She had mentioned that briefly when he called her earlier in the week. “Kinda.”
“Kinda?”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “I don’t know. You gotta learn which battles to fight, you know? This one is one I don’t have to win.”
He nods with a soft hum, stopping at a red light. “Do you like milkshakes?”
She chuckles a bit at the change of topic. “I don’t mind them.”
“Wanna get some right now?”
“Would it matter if I said no?”
“No,” he admits. “Because I want one.”
“That can’t be on the diet plan you athletes have going on.”
“Oh, it definitely isn’t. Worth it though.”
“Do they have oreo or cookies and cream?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes.” He grins, and she takes a couple seconds just to watch it. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
“Thanks for coming out to Jersey at 10 pm.”
She chuckles. His heart drops to his stomach. “I had nothing else to do on a Friday night.”
He snorts. “Yeah, okay. I don’t believe that.”
“Really?”
He shrugs.
She leans back into her seat. “I don’t have the energy to hang out with people every night. Respect to the people who do. That’s just never been me. I can sit for hours and not talk to anyone.”
“You’re an introvert, then.”
“Is that surprising?”
He takes a second to think about it. “Yes, one, because you always talk about your friends so I know you have a lot. And two, because we literally talked for four hours on our first date.”
She shrugs, looking straight ahead of her to get the courage to respond. “There’s very few people in my life who I can talk with for hours.”
“I’ll consider myself lucky, then.”
She looks back over to him, watching as he shoots her a quick smile before he focuses back on the road. “How’s your week been?”
“The usual. Practices and games and travelling in the west coast, so I’m a little jetlagged, which isn’t great.”
“I didn’t realize that you guys play games like, every other day. Which is dumb, because like, it makes sense, but that just sounds exhausting. What am I saying though? It’s literally your job.”
He laughs softly and she tries to ignore the warmth spreading across her skin. “It can be tiring, for sure. But yeah, I love it, you know? Wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” Just then, they pull into this small, unassuming diner and roll right through the drive-thru. He orders a chocolate milkshake and she gets an oreo one, and before he can think about it, she forces her credit card in his hand. He laughs and relents, and they pull out and are back on the road quickly. She sips on her milkshake and smiles to herself, not even asking where he’s driving them to next.
(She thinks they could be anywhere and she’d still want to keep talking to him forever. He thinks that practically every worry in his life could fade away if he could look at her smile for the rest of his life)
He rolls up to one of his favorite views in Jersey of midtown Manhattan, finding an alcove and backing his car into it. Hamilton Park. They both get out and all she can do is stand there and admire the stunning view, milkshake in hand. She’s literally breathless. The last time she remembers feeling like this is when she saw the Pantheon for the first time nearing midnight with her brother when they were in Rome in 2022. She doesn’t notice him unlocking the trunk and setting up the backseat with blankets and pillows until he softly calls her name.
(When her eyes met his, the glow of Manhattan in her eyes, he swears to this day that his heart skipped a beat. He was hers already then)
They settle into the makeshift couch, not quite touching but really freaking close.
“It’s beautiful,” she says softly, just looking at the view.
He hums, his eyes flickering between the view he knows too well and the girl who makes him feel better about who he is simply for just being around. It sure is.
She lets herself admire the view silently for a minute or so more, before she can’t take it anymore. “Jack?” She asks, still looking out.
“Yeah?”
“What are we doing?”
“What do you mean?”
Wrong answer, if the unimpressed expression on her face is any indication. She nudges her knee with his. “Come on. You know exactly what I mean. What are we doing? What are we?”
He shrugs, trying to ignore the frogs in his stomach. He should’ve known she was gonna bring it up first. She’s too smart not to. “I-I like you. Wouldn’t have chased after you if I didn’t. You-you’re amazing, you know that? I don’t think you realize how much you can just stay on someone’s mind. I know this is only our third date, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life and I like who I am when I’m around you.”
She swallows, pausing to sip her milkshake and wiggling into the blankets. He thinks she’s adorable. “I haven’t liked someone in so long. I thought I forgot what it felt like. But then you asked me out and I see a text from you or hear you through my phone or see you on TV, and I’m like oh. I think I remember what it feels like now. It feels like this.”
He has to take a second because oh, maybe her dreams of becoming an author aren’t just words. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She swallows again. “But I, I can’t do casual. I never have. I really, really wish I could
sometimes. So if that’s what you want, I can’t do it.”
“What makes you think I want casual?”
She snorts, “Because you’re a hot and talented hockey player? You can’t blame me for making the assumption.”
“You think I’m hot?”
Maia smacks him in the stomach. Jack laughs. She takes a breath. It’s now or never. “I just, I know you have girls in your DMs and your comments and everywhere else that are prettier and maybe could give you more of what you’re looking for or something that’s not…me.”
“You’re beautiful.”
She lets out a small noise and smiles slightly. “Thanks. But, I-I know that you have so many options. I won’t be hurt if I’m not the one you choose.”
He taps her knee so she’s paying attention and listening to his next words. “I-I’ve done casual before. I don’t think I can do that with you.”
“You can’t? Why not?”
“Well, A, because you don’t want to, which leads to B, I don’t want to. Not with you.” It’s his turn to swallow now as he looks at the skyline. “I really, really like you, Maia.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“All in?”
“All in.”
“You completely sure?” She interlaces her hand in with his and raises his knuckles up to her lips. He’s utterly floored. But he’s nervous. And she can sense it.
“Yes. I just…it’s, I’m not trying to backtrack. I mean, you’ve already seen some of it. Like, during the season, it’s intense. Game every two or three days, practice pretty much everyday, stretches of roadies and being away. I feel like, not that I doubt you or us or anything, but that’s not, I won’t be around as much as I should be. How is that fair to you?”
“Yeah, I mean, yeah. I figured that from the first day. I get it. Well, as much as I can get it. I’m sure it’s gonna be tough. I know it will be.” She squeezes his hand, leaning on his shoulder. “If you’re willing to try, then so am I.”
“You’re too good for me.”
She scoffs, grinning as he places a kiss on her temple. She places her milkshake by her side, summoning up some courage. She adjusts herself so that she’s fully facing him, and he just watches her intensely. With her white BU crewneck, a blanket around her shoulders, hair falling just past her shoulders, and the soft smile on her face, his mind goes quiet. Peaceful.
She kisses him first. Innocently and softly, before pulling back to gauge his reaction.
He responds quickly, cupping her cheek and pressing his lips against hers again. They’re both smiling into the kiss and everything feels calm. He wraps a hand around her waist as she maneuvers her hands around his neck, playing with his hair. She’s so lost in him that she doesn’t really realize that she moves herself so that she hovers over his lap, knees on either side of his hips. He has his hands placed on her lower back.
He lets out a low groan, “Baby.”
Her brain short circuits, both at the nickname (she’s always flinched at it before, but she loves the way he says it) and the timbre of his voice, but she has enough sense to pull away. They’re both breathing heavily. “Sorry,” she breathes out, leaning her forehead on his shoulder. She closes her eyes. She needs a second.
“Don’t be,” he says, bringing her face back up to his and brushing his thumbs on her cheek. “God, you’re so beautiful. I’ve been wanting to do that since the minute I saw you.”
She chuckles, sliding off of him and settling into his side, staring out at the skyline again. “You’ve had plenty of chances.”
“I kinda knew if I kissed you before knowing what we were, it would be more heartbreaking if you rejected me.”
“If I rejected you?”
“Yes.”
“In what world would I have rejected you?”
“I don’t know. But I’m glad it’s not this world.”
She keeps herself from rolling her eyes, and just leans up to kiss him on the cheek. Because, you know, she can do that now.
(That night, staring out at the stunning skyline of a city she has grown to love, with the warmth of the blankets over her legs and over her shoulder, a boy she was very quickly growing to care for deeply pressed by her side, telling her he feels the same way, she felt lifted. Free.
Unstoppable)
(When he drops her home, it’s 1:18 a.m. and she doesn’t want to get out of the car. With the way his hand has been attached to her thigh, it seems like he doesn’t want her to get out either. But he has an 11 am practice tomorrow and he just had a game. He’s exhausted.
He kisses her once, twice, a third time before letting her go. As soon as she steps through the lobby of her apartment building and out of view, his grin practically splits his face. He smiles all the way home)
#k writes#hockey fic#hockey fanfic#hockey fiction#hockey rpf#jack hughes#devils#new jersey devils#jack hughes x oc#jack hughes x ofc#jack hughes fic#jack hughes fiction#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes writing#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes fanfiction#nhl imagine#nhl#nhl fanfic#nhl fanfiction
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I’m a sucker for Angst, so a heaviest of heavy Angst will always do it for me, like I need my insides to feel like it’s being stabbed and overwhelmed with all sort of emotions. Bonus point if it’s long. Hope this isn’t too much to ask for maybe I’m getting too carried away loll Could you do it with Justin Herbert please?
No Strings?
a/n: nonnie you sent this at the perfect time! I've had justin on my schedule for a while, but couldn't figure out what to write for him, so this worked out perfectly! this does not have a happy ending but i might be open to a part two if enough people want it. enjoyyyy :)
masterlist | NFL Masterlists | Justin Herbert Masterlist
You swore you could handle casual. When you started whatever you had going on with Justin, you swore you were the kind of person who could have a casual relationship, but now you aren’t so sure. When Justin asked you out four months ago, you never would’ve expected to be where you are now. It had all been going so well. The dates had been everything you could’ve asked for and more, and Justin was the perfect gentleman. It all began to go downhill after your third date. You had invited Justin into your apartment when he dropped you off, your intentions clear, and he had followed you inside. You two had been sitting on the couch when things began to get serious, the kiss you were sharing heating up.
Justin pulled away, looking slightly guilty. “I feel like I need to be honest with you about something before this goes any further.”
“Um, yeah, okay,” you were a little confused, but you let him speak.
“Look, because of the job I have, I really can’t do anything serious right now. I know I’ve probably led you on a little bit, but I swear I’ve never had any intentions to hurt you,” he stared at you, looking nervous.
“That’s okay!” you speak up too quickly for your liking. “We don’t have to stop unless that’s what you want. I can do casual.” Surely, you could. It couldn’t be that different from a normal relationship.
“You sure? I don’t wanna overstep if casual isn’t something you’re comfortable with.”
“Yeah, of course. No strings attached. Just having fun.”
As Justin leaned back in, you were thinking that this could definitely work. Justin was great, and this would keep him in your life without overstepping any boundaries. You could do casual.
~~
Turns out, you can’t do casual. You’ve been trying to stay normal, but you realized two days ago that you were falling for Justin, hard. You’d been keeping it to yourself, not wanting to scare him away, but it’s getting more and more difficult. He’s just so sweet, and the things he tends to do for you simply cannot be casual.
Is it casual when he plays with the ends of your hair before you get out of bed in the morning? Is it casual for him, even though he keeps all your favorite snacks at his place for when you have movie nights? If it’s casual, why does he keep a drawer free so you have space to keep a few clothes at his place? If it’s casual, why does he know you better than you know yourself? Why has he gotten you your favorite flowers every two weeks since you went on that first date with him? Why does he know “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days” is the perfect movie to cheer you up after a long day? If it’s casual for him, why is he acting like he’s in love with you?
Eventually, it had gotten to a point where you couldn’t stand lying to him or yourself anymore. After four months of no strings, you had to talk to him. You finally got the chance one night when he invited you over for a movie night. Before the movie got started, you decided it was time to break the news.
“Justin… I actually think we need to talk,” you wiped your hands on your pants, feeling them already starting to sweat from the nerves.
“Oh! Uh, yeah, sure. What’s up?”
“I just really need to say this, and I know you probably won’t like it, but I need you to listen until I finish,” you pause, waiting for him to nod. “Okay, so, I just feel like we’ve definitely crossed some lines in this arrangement, ya know? Like we both have a drawer at each other’s places. We’re spending the night together, and sometimes, we hang out without even having sex. I just… this isn’t what we originally agreed to,” you were avoiding saying what you were truly feeling.
“So we’ll step back some? I don’t know. That doesn’t seem like something to be worried abou-”
“I caught feelings for you, Justin,” he just stares at you, shocked, “I know we said no feelings, but we’ve just gotten a little too close. We don’t have to stop or anything. I’m a big girl. I can handle-”
“No. No, we should stop,” he cuts you off, and it’s your turn to stare.
“Seriously?”
“We said no strings. I told you I can’t do relationships because of my job. If you have feelings for me, this needs to stop now before it can get worse.”
“Right,” you stood robotically, grabbing your things and walking out of Justin’s house with tears in your eyes. The worst part? He didn’t even try to stop you. Somehow, with one sentence, you ruined something that could’ve been so good for you, that had been so good for you.
~~
Now, it had been three months since that night, and you hadn’t spoken to Justin since. You’ve been going through the motions, just doing a fairly normal routine to make it through your day. You wake up, get dressed, go home, shower, cry while you eat your sorrows away, sleep, and then do it all again the next day. Nothing has felt right since your breakup with Justin, if that’s what you would even call. How can you break up with someone you were never really dating.
You’ve found your confidence to be much lower recently, too. You couldn’t count the amount of time you’ve wondered where you went wrong. Why did you have to tell him? Why would he not even try? Why didn’t he follow you? Today, you found the answer.
You had decided that a day out would do you some good, so since you had the day off, you got dressed and walked around the city. You were about to go into one of your favorite coffee shops, one that you had brought Justin to many times. As you neared the door, you caught a glimpse of something that shattered your heart in a second. There sat Justin across from some girl you’ve never seen, looking too close to just be friends. You watched as she stood, kissing his cheek before she wandered off to the bathroom. A bright smile made its way onto Justin’s face, a smile you had never managed to bring out of him. With your heart broken all over again, you made your way to a close friend’s place. It was closer than yours, and you knew you didn’t want to be alone right now.
He had told you he couldn’t be in a relationship, but what he really meant was that he couldn’t be in a relationship with you. The questions began to set in again. Were you not pretty enough? Not popular enough? Did he need someone in the same tax bracket as him? Did he really just not like you? Did he think you weren’t good enough for him? Was he lying the entire time, every time he told you how special you were to him
Even with all the questions you had, you knew two things for sure. You were done with Justin Herbert, and you definitely could not do casual.
taglist: @heartsforjh @irishmanwhore @heartforherbert @jusaints @one-sweet-gubler
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#em's inbox#em's nonnies#em's writing#justin herbert#justin herbert x reader#los angeles chargers#la chargers#nfl#nfl x reader
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'' LONGING ,,
|| pairing: hawks x gn!reader / keigo takami x gn!reader
|| warnings: hurt/comfort, this is so self indulgent
|| word count: 0.8k
It had been around 2 weeks since Keigo left for his mission. He had told you that he was coming back in a week and a half. You were worried sick for him, pacing around your shared living room as you constantly checked your phone. Though, you knew Keigo wasn't allowed to use his phone on these missions, it'd be too much of a risk. Undercover missions, y'know?
It didn't make it easier, of course it didn't. When the two of you got married, you knew what you were signing up for. You knew that he'd be gone for weeks on end. That his hero work wouldn't be sympathetic towards your relationship.
He'd come home at late hours of the day, leave when daylight barely breaks. It was heart wrenching. And you didn't know what to do but worry. Ah, well, let's hope he'll be home by tomorrow. It was already 2 AM, if he was home he'd probably kill you if he knew you were up at that time. That damn hypocrite.
You changed into your pajama's, it was the matching set that Keigo INSISTED on getting. It was the stupid, childish pj's that had llama prints on the bottoms while the top had some cheesey llama pun. God, it was so stupid.
You climbed into bed, hiding underneath the fluffy comforter that Keigo had hated, yet you absolutely loved it. He claimed his wings were warm enough, which was true. But now that he was out, you needed the comforter. Yet all you could think of was the fact you wanted that stupid fucking bird man to wrap his arms and wings around you.
You closed your eyes, hugging your fluffy pillow, nuzzling your face into it. Pretending as if it was Keigo. God, what did that man do to you?
.
.
.
You had drifted to sleep, your dreams filled of nothing but a dark void as a small creak came from your balcony. Heavy boots against the smooth tile as Keigo made his way through the living room. He hadn't received terrible injuries, thankfully, only a few cuts and bruises, allowing him to fly home, quick and easy. He threw off his jacket on the couch and kicked his boots. He'll deal with your lecturing tomorrow.
Silently, Keigo made his way through the hall up to your shared bedroom. As much as he hated being in his hero costume, he desperately needed to cuddle with you in bed. He'll change in the morning. He needed his spouse.
He climbed into bed, pushing the comforter away and pushing your back flush against his chest. His wing over the both of you, acting as a blanket. Keigo let out a small sigh as he pushed his face into your hair, memorizing your smell. Oh, how he missed this.
"Kei?" Your voice felt like a whisper in the wind. Something that couldn't be heard even by the sharpest of ears.
"Shit, I'm sorry for waking you, baby" You turned to face him. A small smile on your face as you put your forehead against his own. Your hand reaching up to feel his scratchy stubble.
"Don't apologize for waking me up.."
"I'm sorry, love"
He placed a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips. A small smile spreading on his face when he did. How sweet you were, your lips as sweet as honey and as soft as a cloud that Keigo would fly in. Oh, how he would trade the skies to kiss you a million times over. He'd trade everything just to stay with you everyday.
"How was-"
"I don't wanna talk about it," Keigo pushed his face into your hand, placing gentle kisses on your hands. "just wanna be with you.. Don't wanna think about-"
You placed another kiss on his lips, your eyes filled with love and affection as he looked over at you. What was he even talking about?
"It's okay, love," You reached over and wrapped your arms around his neck. Pulling him close, as if you were trying to meld yourself to him. "I'm glad you're home, I've missed you."
With a shakey breath, Keigo wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling into you as his grip on your shirt tightened. The days he would come home were always the best, yet also the worst. He could have prevented the hurt, the longing, if he had stayed home. If he had stayed with you.
"I missed you so much, my love, God.. All I thought about was you.." His voice was barely above a whisper as you hugged him. At these times, he acted as if you were a precious treasure that he desperately did not want to let go of. Well, you were a precious treasure. To him, at least. "I'll stay home tomorrow. I promise, my songbird, I promise, I-"
You pushed his face away from you, his face cupped between your hands as you gave a soft smile. "It's okay, Keigo.. I promise, I'm okay."
"I love you."
You let out a small chuckle.
"I love you too, Keigo"
|| chat idk wtf came over me but i was feeling sad and i wanted keigo SIGH!
#bnha hawks#hawks#hawks x reader#mha#bnha#boku no hero academia#my hero acedamia#hawks x gn reader#hawks x gn!reader#hurt/comfort#fluff#domestic fluff#soft hawks#mha takami keigo#keigo x reader#takami keigo#keigo takami#keigo takami x reader#x gn reader#mha x reader#mha x gn reader#bnha x reader
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Renting a two-bed flat share in Crawley with a charming man in his mid-to-late twenties whom before moving in, you had never met. His name is Kyle. His working life establishes itself in London, though he chases a train to Hereford from time to time. He turns up the volume on the living room television whenever he prepares his meals for the week so he's able to hear it from the kitchen, though, negating that, will wear headphones and hum along to soulful Mowtown that sparks enthusiasm into each one of his dancing steps.
Kyle gifts you his leftovers with a smile and a wink, and though he's out of the door by six in the morning, he has never once woken you up. His footsteps are light, his gestures considerate, his opinions about cluttered dishwasher shelves gentle but commanding. Kyle does his part around the house to hoover, mop, sweep, and disinfect, and you do them in turn, too, engendered by his vigour. It's a wonderful balance, and you're forever grateful for such a hospitable flatmate because Crawley could have contractually bound you to much worse.
You are aware, vaguely, of what Kyle does for work - only that he's a Sergeant for some version of a mystic stratocracy which doesn't much bother you - and it's always a lovely sound to hear his keys jingle in the door and his muffled shouts that he bought takeaway on his way home for the both of you, dressed in crisp fatigues. Muffled, of course, in particular, as he is always carrying more than he can handle - one of the takeaway bags is between his teeth, the other in his left, and his keys and phone in his right.
A bond forms between the two of you over months - a predictable, comfortable, and ultimately complacent bond. You come to know the Kyle who prefers his bread straight from the freezer, in that you buy a loaf and immediately throw it in without so much as separating the individual slices, despite the limited space within the unit. You're concertedly familiar with the Kyle who triggers the smoke alarm from searing his well-seasoned and certainly not charred steak, and who shouts 'I've got it!" as he wafts a sofa cushion before the detector. You adore the Kyle who laughs unabashedly at television stand-up routines, and the same Kyle on the same evening who wipes the tears from his eyes after agreeing to watch any Pixar film.
Equally, you come to know the Kyle who returns one smoky night, in light of the recent terror plaguing London and the bastards who bombed Piccadilly Circus, who falters despondantly through the front door like a man who once knew joy, and takes his seat plainly on the sofa, glowering at his reflection in the black mirror of the television, apathetic to your concern after he responds with listless silence to your question of;
Is everything alright, Kyle?
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#cod gaz#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz#kyle gaz garrick x you#gaz x you#kyle garrick x you#kyle garrick x reader#kyle garrick#kyle gaz garrick fluff#kyle gaz garrick angst#gaz angst#gaz fluff#call of duty gaz#gaz call of duty#call of duty fanfic#this is probably nothing#but i like the idea of sharing a house with gaz#and watching him slowly become consumed by his disillusionment to the government and military power#that's just so interesting to me#call of duty#call of duty fanfiction#cod
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Work in progress.... this fandom has become my Doomscrolling Palette Cleanser, apparently. This is two mornings in a row where the news has made me mad, and then I went on Tumblr, and some photo comes up that I want to turn into Eggspresso. On the bright side ... hey ... you guys all like action/comedy/fantasy as a mix ... I've got these books I'm republishing post-deadname ...
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Bull hybrid cowboy x chubby fem reader. He runs a little ranch all by himself no one for miles and her car just so happens to break down near his road. He offers her a ride into town but ends up kidnapping her. Would love it if he ties her up and shows her all the reasons why she should stay with him.
Hmm... Now do I write another hucow scene or don't I? Only kidding, you all know where this is going.
Kabr0z Writes Episode 34: Free Range
Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!
CWs: kidnap; dubcon; noncon; lactation; impregnation;
A/N: Thanks again for the steady stream of requests, you lot! Remember if you want to see something, want me to revisit a kink or scenario I've done before, or have a totally new idea, let me know and it'll probably happen!
######################################
You loved that little shitbox of a car, mid 2000's spec, old enough to drink and still going strong. Up until about 5 miles back. You were on a tiny country road in the middle of the night, cruising at 60, when you heard an almighty bang followed by a jangling noise. Your revs went through the roof for a moment before you started to coast. By the time you stopped and inspected the damage you'd already figured out what happened. The jaunty angle of the gearstick and the lack of any resistance on it meant your gears were probably strewn across several hundred metres of road. At least your engine still worked so you had light, heat, and BBC 2.
You didn't, however have any phone signal.
So you sat in the layby in your car, idling the engine to keep the battery running and listening to the 80s. Sleeping in a running car seems like something that's probably illegal, but you figured if the police found you, they could probably give you a tow to go with the fine. Hopefully you'd make it to morning and then walk however far the nearest town is to call your insurance.
A horn behind you shocked you out of your thoughts. You looked around as a rugged 4x4 pulled level with you. A window rolled down and the driver motioned for you to do the same.
He was a bull hybrid, horns wreathing his head, a thick gold ring adorning his nose. "Need a tow?"
"Yeah, I think my gearbox is fucked" you smiled at him
"That'll do it for you, I can get you to town if you want, climb in"
You got out of your car and into his, grateful for the save. He hooked a rope from his car to yours and pulled away, your stricken vehicle in tow.
You didn't think anything of the route he took, country lanes are far too narrow to turn around in, especially in a big vehicle like this one, but you'd been travelling for a while. It's not like he wasn't charming, softly spoken with just a hint of an accent, apparently he had a herd of dairy cattle that he pastured around the area, and you were being regaled about the trade. The radio in the car gently playing some tiny local station or other, predominantly focusing on spinning old records and talking about the weather.
Suspicion set in when you turned off the road, he was taking you up a gravel track in the pitch-dark. He seemed to know the area pretty well but you figured that to get to civilization, you should probably be following the asphalt rather than abandoning it.
He pulled up at a house and turned off the engine, shoving the keys into his pocket "Come on, let's get inside"
You got out and bolted away from the house. You're not stupid enough to follow him in, you'd only just met!
He was faster than you. You'd barely made it twenty yards when you were tackled to the ground. The bull huffed as he tied your ankles together and hefted you over his shoulder. You hit and struggled against him, but he only chuckled at your assault. "Spirited, aren't you?" He opened his door and carried you over the threshold "You'll do fine here"
He put you down onto a plush sofa and sat in a chair opposite to you. Minutes passed in silence, you sullenly staring at him, him eyeing you up like a cut of meat.
"What will you do with me?" You spat at him
"Honestly, I'm not sure. You seemed like a soft townie when I picked you up. I'd thought maybe let you call for a tow, give you a coffee, and maybe a roll in the hay." He was still staring at you
"But?" You felt like there was a but coming
"But, you're not badly built, and you're not such a pushover. Now I'm deciding if I want a wife or not"
You recoiled at his comment "If you think I'm marrying you, you can fuck off!"
He shrugged and got up "Plan B then. With hips and tits like those you'll be a good fit"
He lifted you into a seated position and tore off your top, baring your chest and the rolls of your tummy. He grabbed one of your tits and hefted it "Natural, very good"
If looks could kill, you would've atomised him. As it was he merely met your gaze as he roughly inspected you.
"I was right, you'll do excellently" He picked you up again and swung you over his shoulder before carrying you outside. He crossed a field, not caring about your yelling and screaming for help. He knew nobody was around for miles, even if someone heard you they wouldn't be able to help you. He pushed open a barn door and carried you in, putting you down on a pile of straw "I'll see you tomorrow"
He left you there. The ropes were tied tightly around your ankles. You struggled against them until your fingers went numb to no avail. The other occupants of the barn stirred with your struggling. Your eyes were adjusting to the gloom, you could just about make them out.
They were other women. Some cow hybrids, some not. All of them plump, many pregnant. They looked at you with big doe eyes, curiosity on their faces as they regarded you.
The first one put her arms around you in a hug, then another and another until you were smothered in a dozen round women, their full breasts pressing against you as they started to doze off on you. Stuck there in the centre of the cuddle pile, you couldn't help your eyelids getting heavy, your head cushioned against a plush belly as sleep claimed you too.
You woke with the dawn. The other women mooing eagerly and dispersing around the barn. The bull man from last night opened the door and stepped in. He looked over at you before settling to work. One by one he attached milking cups to the other women, who each settled down contentedly as the machines pumped them, the milk being drawn into tanks at one end of the barn.
Finally he got to you.
"Enjoy your night?"
You spat at him. He laughed.
"Damn, I wish you'd reconsider being my wife. As it is, I can still put a calf in you." He lifted you and carried you to a fence, tying your arms to it before cutting your ankles free.
Your tits swung below you as he pulled your hips up and hiked your skirt up. He tore a hole in your tights, revealing your pussy. You screamed as he started to lick you, his thick tongue penetrating you already as he fingered your clit. You felt your skin flush as your body responded to him, getting wet and ready for him. His licking and stroking was drawing you in, until you quivered with a tearful orgasm.
You felt him straighten up behind you. He lay his cock on your back and you shivered with the length of it before he pulled back and started to ease the tip in, crooning as he went "You're doing great, girl, just a little more, a little more"
The sound of his voice was making you wetter than his tongue did. You whimpered from the fullness from his cock pushing slowly into you, stretching you out. Your hips were pushing back against him, sending waves of motion up your body. He started to push harder, move faster. Your whimpers turned to blissful sobs and whines as you sped towards your next orgasm, the length and girth of him getting you off all by itself. When he squeezed your hips it was too much. Your body tried to push back, but it didn't need to. He could feel your impending orgasm and hilted himself in you, tiny thrusts slapping his balls against your clit and driving you over the edge. He started to throb and pulse in you as your cunt clenched around him. His thrusts were fast and deep, he was close and wasn't going to cum anywhere but inside you. His pounding on your cervix was getting to you, as was his gripping your waist and your hips, and the jolting swaying of your tits. He pushed a hand between your legs and circled his fingers over your clit. You came again. This time he joined in. Your moans and grunts mingled as the other women watched you, still mooing in euphoria from being attached to the pumps.
He stayed inside you, his cock still giving occasional pumps of cum. His huge hands tracing patterns on your back and rubbing your aching muscles. Then he pulled out, and you heard a spatter of his cum fall out of you and onto the straw below. He cut your arms free and helped you off the railings, laying you on the straw.
"I treat my ladies well, you'll see"
A month has passed since you joined the herd. You spend your mornings hooked up to the milking machines, your afternoons lounging in the fields munching clover and enjoying the company of your new friends, then in the evenings Aaron, as you leaned his name, would often visit you and put another load in you. You're already late on your period, you just haven't told him yet.
Yeah, you're giving up some freedoms, and you're pretty sure you're getting dumber
But it sure beats your old job
###################################
Postscript: A bit of an experiment in trying to split the difference between "awful human farm" and not being overly horrible to the POV character. Hopefully it hits the mark nicely. Who knows, I may do a continuation or a "what if" where it goes into fluffy marital sex between Aaron and Fem!Reader...
At any rate, this is your periodic reminder that my ask box and DMs are always open, and to not hold back on your requests! I'm not in the habit of airing anyone's dirty laundry so if you do cross some unforeseen line the worst you'll get is a no
#kabr0z writes#textposts#original content#fem!reader#monster smut#monster fucker#monster fuqqer#monster x fem!reader#huc0w#hucow fantasy#hucow training#fat hucow#huccow#monster x human#monster x reader#monster#monster x you#bull hybrid#minotaur x reader#minotaur x human#minotaur smut#minotaur#plotless smut#plot what plot#send asks#cr3ampie#send me asks#send me dms#send anons#send requests
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Spellbound Part 5
Hey guys!! Here we have the next part of this lovely fic. I've been steadily working on it, just not on WIP Wednesdays because... well... it's getting really spoiler-y and I don't want to ruin your fun.
In this we Chrissy acting suspicious and Steve deals with a couple of Fey. Yep. Fey.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
~
Steve decided that he was going to do his own errands this morning, as he had been using the kids after the attack on Bav to make sure she was going to be okay. But she nudged him out the door today with a basket full of his medicines.
His nosy curious nature brought him to the Munson’s door first, Wayne’s arthritis medicine in hand.
He knocked on the door and wasn’t surprised when Chrissy came out of it when it opened. He nodded. “Miss Cunningham.”
“Oh!” she cried, blushing bright red. “Hello, Steve! Wayne isn’t in right now, but I can take that for him.”
Steve stepped back, clutching the basket to his chest. “I’ve got other errands to run, I’ll just come back.”
She reached out for the basket and he took another step back. “It’s fine, Steve. I’ll make sure he gets them.”
Steve shook his head. He didn’t trust her. He tried scrying on her after Robin’s pronouncement that she was visiting Eddie and couldn’t. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to find out.
“I’ll come back,” he said, firmly. “Have a good a day!” He turned on his heel and hurried down the path, careful not to look back. His heart was going a mile a minute and his lungs tightened around his quickening breaths.
Behind him he heard Eddie’s voice call out, “Who was that?”
“No one,” was the unsettling response and then the sound of the door closing, echoed in his ears.
Steve hurried down the path. He didn’t know what her reasoning for lying was, but it sent a chill down his spine. There was something rotting in this town, but to be fair, that was why his mother sent him here in the first place. It was too closed off for a town of it’s side to be normal.
He quickly finished his errands, with the head of the watch’s house last. Jim Hopper was a good man who had left Hawkins to start a new life, but had come back after the death of his daughter and his wife subsequent descent into madness.
Wayne wasn’t the only one to use his arthritis medicine, Jim used it often too. Especially after a long day out in the rain.
Steve enjoyed visiting Jim for another reason.
“Steve!” a voice cried out and suddenly he had a armful.
Steve wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “Good afternoon, Elinor, is your dad home?”
The little girl looked up at him with a big grin. “Yes, he’s home. But so is Father and Mother...”
Ah. That would explain how gleeful she was.
Elinor Hopper was a changeling. She had been swapped with another child like they always were, but what they didn’t count on was the baby being dropped off at a way station and picked up by Jim Hopper. He, still grieving the loss of his own daughter, Sara, nursed the changeling back to health and properly took care of her.
And when the fae came to take back the stump they had used to swap create her, they found a happy, healthy child instead. A child they could not take back to the faerie lands without Hopper’s permission. One he refused to give.
Steve had managed to intervene in time before the sidhe got upset enough to raze the whole town. He got them all to agree to terms that Jim would raise Elinor as his own and she would return to the faerie lands when she was grown and could make her own decisions and they would pay for her upbringing.
After all, it was their fault she was created in the first place. It did make for some awkward moments over the years. Most when the fae got tired of paying for her upkeep and would show up to demand her back.
Honestly though, Steve thought it was the funniest thing because try as they might they could never get his name to bend him to their will. Because he would go by Jim or Hopper, never James. Steve didn’t think there was a single soul anywhere who knew it was for sure, James.
“I’ll go smooth things out again,” he promised kissing her forehead.
Steve walked into the house and there stood the most graceful, elegant beings you had ever seen. Both were tall and thin, but in an uncanny valley kind of way. Their hair was long and blond, coming to the middle of his back and her waist. Their eyes were a bright, unnatural blue and their clothing screamed wealth in ways no human could match.
“Lord Eanethreal, Lady Melisande,” he said bowing, “it is good to see you again.”
Both pairs of blue eyes and a third more natural pair of blue eyes turned to him. Steve looked unassuming most days, but not in that moment. Not then.
He stood up straight and his clothes that were a warm, olive green most of the time, had shifted from an earthy tone, to a glittering emerald green and on his head was a matching pointed hat that denoted his profession and rank. The change made the green in his own eyes stand out, making them more hazel than brown.
“Steven,” Lady Melisande said with a nod, though Lord Eanethreal just ignored him with a sniff. “We have come to take the child you call Elinor. She is missing vital teachings as she wastes away up here in the mortal realm.”
“That was not the bargain, my lady,” Steve said with a gentle smile, “as you well know. Would you really go back on our deal?”
That was when Lord Eanethreal took notice of him, spitting in anger. “It was a trick! A low down dirty trick and I refused to let it stand!”
Jim chuckled. “Don’t like it when it’s you on the receiving end, huh?” He shook his head in amusement.
“To break your word,” Steve warned, “once it freely given will bring a curse upon you for one hundred years. Is that really what you would like happen here today? Because you could take her, but there is no prison strong enough or deep enough to stop her from clawing her way back to Jim. So not only will you be cursed as the deal states, Elinor will have wrecked havoc on the faerie lands that will be felt for centuries and all because you doubt the love of this human man for that little girl.”
He pointed at Jim who glared at them, daring them to refute Steve’s statement.
Steve held Eanethreal’s gaze for a long moment before the fae lord broke contact first. He snarled something feral and dark, but suddenly pantry was full and the coffer overflowing. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the house, the smell of lightning crackling behind him in his wake.
Melisande shook her head. “My apologies, yet again. It is a sore spot for my husband to be bound to the mortal realm thusly.”
Steve bowed his head respectfully. “I understand, but the usual laws don’t apply here. He not the person you sought to punish by swapping out their baby for the changeling, and Elinor did not die as most do. So it created an unique situation that must have unusual rules.”
“There is wisdom in that,” she murmured. “I will try harder to convince him of such wisdom.” She nodded to Steve and swept out the door without so much as a backward glance to Jim.
Then Steve was back to his normal every day self. His head began to pound and he swayed on his feet.
Then everything thing went black.
~
When Steve woke up, he wasn’t surprised to see that he was laid out on Jim’s bed. No, what was surprising was that Eddie was there at the bedside looking concerned.
Steve blinked up at him in confusion. “Did I hit my head on the way down?”
Jim chuckled from behind Eddie. “No, kid. I caught you in time. Eddie was passing by when he saw our visitors and was curious as to the nature of our little get together.”
“That’s a whole story for someone other than me to tell,” Steve huffed, staying lying down. He knew his limits and he had blown past them. “Short version. I make the fae pay child support.”
Jim chuckled. “Steve just used too much of his power forcing the bastards to back down.”
“Why the hell would you need to use your powers to tell them to fuck off?��� Eddie asked, frowning.
The room stopped spinning so he carefully sat up as Jim passed a plate of food over Eddie’s head. Steve took it with a grateful smile.
“Because they would only negotiate with those they deem equals,” Elinor said grimly. “If his power wasn’t half the level it should be, he wouldn't need to be using glamour to make himself look bigger to them.”
“Well, Miss Thing,” Steve teased, “unless you have a solution about unlocking my full potential that isn’t finding my soulmate, shush!”
Elinor giggled. “Nope, pretty sure that’s the only way.”
Eddie looked over his shoulder at her and then back at Steve. “I thought you didn’t hold to the notion that you were that ultra rare super witch or whatever you called it was.”
Steve sighed around a piece of bread and cheese, putting down the piece he had in his hand. “That’s what everyone thought were I grew up. That I just wasn’t as powerful as my mother because I’m a male witch, but...”
“Well that’s sexist,” Eddie huffed. “And I’m guessing that every soul powered super witch were lesbians?”
Steve burst out laughing. “Well no. A lot of male/female pairings in the centennial sorcerers as my Auntie Muriel liked to call them, a handful of lesbians, too. But the reason they didn’t–um... think it was me because there’s never been a male/male pairing in any record. Granted there hasn’t been that many because it’s once every hundred years...”
Eddie smiled. “Still out say the last ten or so, it’s never happened?”
Steve nodded. Not many people in the village knew that he was gay. In fact with the current mayor, it was a safe bet that no one outside his very intimate circle knew that fact.
“Still sexist, Steve,” he said softly. “You just said that about of a third of the most power witches were men if there were heterosexual powerful prestidigitators in the past. So your family just dismissed as being male without cause.”
Steve opened his mouth in shock. “Oh shit. I never thought of it that way. You’re right, that was pretty awful of them.”
Eddie smiled at him and then got to his feet. “Well, now that I know you didn’t kill yourself protecting the little miss, I’ll be on my way.”
“Since you’re here,” Steve said, pointing to the basket on the table, “you might as well take your uncle’s medicine with you. He was going to be my last stop.”
Eddie picked up the basket and one of the packets, frowning at them. He picked up the rest of the packets and tucked them into the safety of his inner pocket of vest.
“I’ll make sure he gets them,” he murmured. “Seriously though, you need to stop using up all your power to protect others, or you might just burn out before you meet your soulmate.”
Steve huffed a laugh. “I’ll probably never meet them here, this town isn’t very friendly for people like me.” He tilted the head to side. “The witch thing doesn’t help either.”
Eddie burst out laughing. “You really are something else, Harrington. Take care of yourself. you hear?”
“Will do,” Steve murmured softly. “Say hello to Wayne for me.”
Eddie nodded and then slipped out of the house. Both Jim and Elinor turned to Steve.
“He didn’t touch you or Dad,” Elinor said succinctly, tilting her head to the side. “But he rustled my hair, why?”
Jim huffed a breath through his nose. “Probably for the same reason Steve here doesn’t touch men. He knows his soulmate is a man and it would be pitchforks and torches if happened to be the wrong man.”
She nodded sagely. “I’m sorry you were forced to use your powers so soon after the incident with the Carver boy. I hope you find your soulmate quickly. I fear there is a storm coming that will alter this town forever.”
Then she smiled and skipped out of the house as if nothing had happened.
Jim and Steve looked at each other in concern.
“Well,” Jim said darkly, “that was fucking ominous.”
Steve could only agree.
~
Tag List: CLOSED
1- @itsall-taken @watermelonmite @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs
2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @cryptid-system @kultiras @kimsnooks
3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006
5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate
6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman
7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth
8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss
9- @wheneverfeasible @micheledawn1975 @gloomysoup @dotdot-wierdlife @tartarusknight
10- @ollyxar @yesdangerpls @two-vampires-kissing @themoonagainstmers @estrellami-1
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Soooo because I can't write this properly, so I'm entrusting you with this.
Nik hurt Price comfort.
Thank you for coming to my ted talk
Nikolai knows he isn't a young man anymore.
He hears men in their twenties make internet references that go over his head, they all sound like gibberish but apparently, they're humorous to surrounding 20-something year old men.
There are specks of grey starting to appear when he lets his stubble grow out and one stubborn steel strand behind his left ear that he can't seem to hide when he tucks his hair back.
But the excruciating sharp pain that spreads throughout his knee more often than not when he gets out of bed in the morning is a slap in the face to the man he once was.
Realistically he'd always known that the work he does would catch up with him but something about taking that extra minute in the morning just so that he can move without his right knee going out from under him is humiliating.
It isn't just his age, old injuries have a way of making themselves known but it would seem that the older he gets, the longer the list of pains that ail him.
Nikolai is a grown man, he can admit that it awakens an insecurity inside of him that he thought buried. Is he still good enough for John? He had proven himself many years ago but he no longer has the same vitality and agility that he had so often taken for granted.
John is a man in his prime. When did he pass his?
There are many things that a man can ponder whilst waiting to regain the full use of his right knee and yet Nikolai always seems to fall back into that swirling pool of shame and self-doubt. He has yet to find a way out of the water without letting himself drown, choking back into awareness.
One hand rests on the edge of his nightstand, holding him steady as he keeps his weight on his left leg. It's a practised routine by now.
Curling his toes into the carpeted floor beneath him acts as a source of amusement, it is one of few actions that can offer him a distraction as he waits out the aching.
John's string of curses as he batters his pinky off of the doorway is as close to a greeting as he'll receive, he believes that the phrase Sergeant MacTavish would use to describe his partner's ordeal is Fucked It.
The captain somehow manages to overcome his anguish as he approaches Nikolai, stopping in front of him and offering his knee a look of contempt as if the joint had assaulted him personally.
When will it become an inconvenience to him? A flaw that he just can't see past.
"Still playing up?"
He offers John a reluctant nod, there's no use in denying the obvious.
"Why not sit down? It's clearly worse than usual and you're only doing yourself more harm standing, give it a bit of time as you sit down then try to walk around again later."
John's suggestion is deliberately gentle and by the look on his face, Nikolai knows that he's expecting a fight. Maybe he expects the pilot to blow up at him like he has before on one of his worst days, a memory that causes guilt to hack away at what little parts he has that remain undamaged.
Instead, he lowers himself onto the edge of their bed and pretends to miss John's obvious relief.
The other man is quick to park himself beside Nikolai only to fall back until he's sprawled on top of the duvet, fingers hooked on the edge of the mattress as he stares up at their ceiling.
"Back's fucked today. Was thinking of staying in for a bit but if neither of us are up to it then we could go for a lazy day. Bed and Bond, best way to go."
He glances down at his partner, catching the faint grimace on his face as he tries to shift his weight off of the lower left side of his back.
"Okay."
For both of their sakes, he can succumb to his desire for laziness in the name of pain relief.
"C'mere, lie down with me. Can get a catnap in if I've got a good-looking man in my bed and he'll let me use him as a pillow."
The sincerity in John's tone is almost sickening, as is the warm look as he lifts his head just to admire Nikolai. There's an undeniable honesty about the devotion that the other man dedicates to him, his very existence even in its worst state is something that John cherishes. It almost makes him feel bad for doubting them both.
So, he nudges John's shoulder and waits for the other man to settle back onto the side of the bed that he had abandoned only an hour ago before he makes the move to lie down. The pain in his knee is no longer torturous, throbbing lessened to a mere irritation.
The pilot feigns exasperation almost as well as the captain often hides it. "Flattery will gain you nothing."
In lieu of responding, John just plants his face on one of his tits and nuzzles into his chest hair.
#sorry that this isnt my typical angst#its surprisingly light for something written by me but i think i like it#captain john price#john price#cod nikolai#nikprice
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For those who're following Flynn's health problems… update is below the cut. Not a great one, sadly.
We went back to the vets on Fri 31st Jan. Flynn had been on his new medicine - telmisartan - for 2 weeks. He's taking it in an effort to reduce the "leakiness" of his remaining kidney. I'd collected a sample for urinalysis a couple of days prior & we got blood taken on the day. Vet spoke to me Sat morning.
I'll start with the positives. Flynn's weight is still good. Actually, at any other time, I'd say he was actively too chubby but I've been intentionally stuffing his face with as much kidney-safe food as he'll eat & it's good he's heavy & good he's managed to gain a bit. As for blood work - Flynn's blood count is good, he isn't anaemic (a worry), electrolytes are normal.
However.
Urinalysis… unfortunately, Flynn's protein loss in his pee is sky high & still maxing out their machine. I wasn't shocked by this result, as telmisartan can take a bit of time to fully work & have an effect… & Flynn's only on a 1/2 dose for his weight. Still, I was obviously hoping for better news. I wish we could at least tell if we're heading in the right direction or not.
Blood work. Urgh. Sadly Flynn's now in Stage 2 of Chronic Kidney Disease. Technically, Stage 2 CKD is considered relatively "mild" & often manageable for a considerable length of time. The worry though, is that Flynn's kidney function seems to be deteriorating pretty fast. From what I've read, this isn't uncommon in dogs who've had high protein levels in their urine, plus, again: Flynn is down 1 kidney… Also, we're already doing what we can to support his kidney, & currently it doesn't seem to be helping much, if at all. Vet's previously said he fears Flynn's kidney has just sort of... reached the limit of what it can cope with.
For now, we're keeping Flynn on a 1/2 dose of telmisartan. Yes, we could increase it but telmisartan can cause side-effects (we're seeing some), including even kidney damage (tbh, I am worried it may be harming not helping… but then again, Flynn has seemed better able to keep weight on since taking meds so, who knows). Vet & I are concerned a full dose could be too much for Flynn to tolerate. We'll monitor, may increase the dose… may take him off it entirely. We are going to add a phosphate binder to his food, which can help maintain kidney function. Flynn's been on a renal diet for 18+ months. Some dogs with his symptoms are put on immunosuppressants, but my vet hasn't brought it up as an option & tbh, I'd be concerned about potential side-effects, although I may look into it more.
As for Flynn… eh, he's OK, for now… mostly, I think? He's sweet & wanting gentle pats, so I don't think he's hugely sore, or distressed. He's feeling sick at times (picky about food) but not sure if it's telmisartan or kidney disease. He's definitely tired & quiet & wanting to be home, warm. That's fine. We get out once or twice a day for a short walk, & he still seems interested in things. I've pulled old Barney's buggy out & started encouraging Flynn to hop in, for if/when he's at a point of wanting to go out but not walk far at all. Obviously, I am still very much trying to hold onto hope we can get him stabilised & keep him happy for some time to come but gosh it's hard & I am struggling to be overly optimistic. I guess all we can do is take each day as it comes.
Sorry for the long read, partly this is for me... I find it helps writing stuff down. Hug your dogs, guys & please think good thoughts for Flynnie.
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